Jean Plaidy - Mary, Queen of France: The Tudor Princesses

ALSO BY JEAN PLAIDY

From Three Rivers Press

THE WIVES OF HENRY VIII

THE TUDOR PRINCESSES

The Thistle and the Rose

THE TUDOR QUEENS

THE NORMAN TRILOGY

THE PLANTAGENET SAGA

THE TUDOR NOVELS

THE STUART SAGA

THE GEORGIAN SAGA

THE QUEEN VICTORIA SERIES

THE FERDINAND AND ISABELLA TRILOGY

THE LUCREZIA BORGIA SERIES

THE MEDICI TRILOGY

THE FRENCH REVOLUTION SERIES

The English SCENE I
The Betrothal of Mary

ALTHOUGH THE WIND blew from the northeast, whipping the cold waters of the Thames, bending the rushes and long grasses on the banks and throwing itself, as though in anger, against the Palace walls, the barges continued to arrive, and great personages alighted at the privy steps.

The young girl kneeling in a window seat watched them with satisfaction.

Why, Katharine, she said, without turning to look at her sister-in-law, who sat sewing on her stool near the window, my lord Dudley and my lord Empson are arriving now. Who next, I wonder. She pulled at her plentiful red-gold curls. And to think, Katharine, that they are coming to honor me!

Nay, Mary, you are over-vain. You should remember that it is not you they honor, but your fathers crown.

By Gods Holy Mother, retorted Mary, is it my fathers crown then who is going to solemnize its nuptials tomorrow in this Palace?

We know it is yourself who is going to do that. But the honor these men do is not for an eleven-year-old girl, but because she is the daughter of the King of England.

I am twelve, I would have you know, retorted Mary. Twelve and She began to count on her fingers. Twelve years and nine months. Almost thirteen. So there!

That is not so very old, and it is unseemly that you should use such oaths, which are in truth blasphemy.

Oh, Katharine, you are such a dull creature.

She jumped from the window seat and, running to Katharine, put her arms about her. There, I did not mean that. But you are so good and I can never be good. At least I dont intend to be until I am so old that I must think of repentance. But you are not of that age yet, Katharine. Why dont you stop thinking about what is right, and think more about what is amusing?

She put her head on one side and regarded Katharine. Poor Kate! A widow alreadyand of some years standing. It must be she tried to count again six years since Arthur had died, and poor Katharine had been growing older and sadder ever since.

We are not put on earth to amuse ourselves, Mary, said Katharine quietly.

But I was, persisted Mary.

You are young, and you are not as serious as you should be; but as a Princess you have your duty, and that is something you should never forget.

Duty! cried Mary, and she swung round so that her tawny, damask petticoats showed beneath her green velvet gown. She pointed her toe and went on: Oh, Katharine, have you tried the new dance? It goes like this. Henry showed me. She danced awhile, her hair streaming out behind her, her round face pink with the exertion, her blue eyes brilliant. Katharine said a prayer for her. She was so beautiful, so passionate, so self-willed, so spoiled; for even the King, who thought of little but enlarging his exchequer, softened at the sight of his youngest child.

And, went on Mary, coming to a sudden halt, I should like to remind you that Henry uses that oath, and if Henry does, then so shall I.

You should not imitate his bad habits.

Henrys bad habits! He has none. He is my wonderful brother. Do you know, Katharine, I love him better than anyone in the world. Her face darkened suddenly. I should love Charles, I suppose, but he is not like Henry. She ran to the picture which she had propped up on the window seat, and coming back, sat at Katharines feet holding it out before her. It showed the Prince of Castile, a boy with sleepy eyes and a heavy jaw; his mouth was slightly open, and it was scarcely a prepossessing face. Now can you imagine anyone less like Henry? went on Mary. And that is Charles, my bridegroom. Oh, what a wonderful thing it would be if Henry were not my brother. Then I might marry him.

You are very frivolous and talk a great deal of nonsense, said Katharine primly; but in spite of herself she was smiling. She thought: It is the same with us all. We tremble for her; we deplore her frivolity; and yet there is not one of us who is unaffected by her charm. After all, she is but a child. She will grow up. Dear sister, she went on, tomorrow is a very solemn occasion for you. If you would like to pray with me

Mary shook her head emphatically. I have said my prayers for the day, and you are quite wrong, Katharine. It is a joyous occasion. Did you not hear the bells ringing out this morning? There will be music in the streets and the people will make bonfires and dance round them. They are all so pleased because I am going to marry Prince Charles. There is nothing solemn about it. My father says it is a good marriage. So do all the old men from Flanders. They say that trade will flourish because of me and that in marrying Charles I shall be doing my duty to England and my fathers House. So if I am doing all that, Ill not be solemn too. How the wind howls! They say it is hot in Spain. Is it? You know, because it was once your home. Katharine, one day I shall be Queen of Spain.