Royal Courtship Read online

  She gulped. How had he known what was in her mind?

  'Of course not,' she replied indignantly.

  'If I catch you sneaking down after me I will make you fear me more than you do Henry Tudor!'

  She gurgled with laughter. 'That's impossible! You will never be a gross, old man so fat I could never get my arms about you!'

  Before she was aware of his intention he'd drawn her close, and without conscious thought her arms slid round him, her hands meeting as she clung to him. Swiftly he bent his head towards her, and kissed her briefly.

  'I trust you will never regret those words,' he whispered, and then set her aside. 'Get Amy, saddle the horses, then do not move from here, or I will not be able to find you when I come back. We may need to move swiftly if the men are still about,' he warned, and before she was aware of it he vanished silently into the deepening gloom.

  ***

  Chapter 6

  Shaken and bewildered, Bella sank down on to the grass. That kiss had revived all the feelings she had tried so hard to repress after she realised Pedro would betray her. When Pedro had kissed her it had been exciting. She had believed he loved her and had responded by giving him her love.

  Now another man's kiss reawoke in her the trembling delight she recalled from those stolen meetings in the gardens of Hampton Court Palace. But it was ridiculous. She didn't love Charles, and since Pedro had betrayed her by allowing her to see he would connive at a marriage with the King, she had fallen out of love with him, too. Hadn't she?

  Bleakly, Bella found herself concluding that physical pleasure could be experienced with any attractive man, and her brother and Pedro were right it had nothing to do with love. If that were true, how could it matter whom one married?

  With grim determination, she set herself to compare her feelings towards Pedro and Charles, and came to the doleful conclusion that although there was a difference, she could not explain what it was.

  The physical attraction towards a personable man was a snare, she decided. Just because a man was kind, attentive, and flattered her with compliments, it did not mean he loved her. It was naive and gauche for her to assume that and respond by thinking she was in love with him. And it all meant nothing when she couldn't even decide what love was.

  Amy seemed to know, Bella thought suddenly. Should she ask her friend to explain? Then she thought of the abject misery which had wrapped itself round Amy since they had left Court, and decided it would be unkind to try to persuade Amy to talk about a man who had hurt her so deeply.

  It seemed hours to Bella before Charles returned, as secretly as he'd gone. One moment she and Amy were alone in the velvety darkness, not speaking and unable to see one another, for the moon had not yet risen. Then Charles was by her side, his hand seeking hers.

  'Is everything all right? Did you see Grandmother?' she demanded, her heart racing from the fright of his sudden reappearance.

  'The King's men left some days ago, although they were reported to be searching all the inns between Burford and Oxford.'

  'Thank goodness!' she gasped in relief. 'Grandmother was not hurt, or frightened?'

  'She wants to see you at once. Come, it's quite safe. We can take the horses down and there's a man waiting to stable them.'

  She asked no more questions until they had retrieved the horses, and Bella was leading the way along the familiar path.

  'How is Grandmother? Did you see her? What did she say? What had the men told her?' she asked eagerly as the track was joined by another and became wide enough for all three of them to ride together.

  'Bella, my dear, she is ill. I spoke with her for a few minutes. She wants to see you.'

  'Ill? Did those devils harm her? What sort of illness?'

  Bella's voice was shrill with fear, and Charles stretched out a hand to restrain her as she would have kicked her horse into a heedless, headlong gallop.

  'It is nothing to do with the King, Bella. She's a very old lady, and has been ill for some weeks. She forbade anyone to tell you, as she knew you would insist on coming home. She didn't want to spoil any of your chances of advancement now Lady Mary is at Court again.'

  'Spoil my chances! If only she'd known what they were! But how ill is she, Charles? Is she – '

  Her voice broke and she struggled to compose herself.

  'She is in very little pain, my dear. She's prepared for death, and delighted she'll have the chance to see you again before she goes. You must not distress her by showing your own sadness.'

  Bella gave a shuddering sigh.

  'I know. But somehow, I had expected her to be always there. She was, ever since my mother died. I cannot imagine life without her.'

  'She wants to ensure your safety, then she can die happily. Try to show her everything will be all right.'

  'Of course I will!' Bella sniffed and scrubbed her eyes with the edge of her cloak.

  One of the old menservants was waiting in the courtyard in front of the house and with just a few subdued words of welcome to Bella, he took the horses.

  Bella, forgetting Amy and Charles, almost ran to the door, which stood open. A buxom woman of about forty waited there, and Bella threw her arms about her.

  'Oh, Meg! How is she?'

  'Overjoyed she will see you once again, my lassie. Come, she is waiting, so impatient! The lady and gentleman will wait here, in the parlour.'

  Old Lady Davenport was propped high on pillows. There were candles in every possible place, and Bella thought with dismay the bed looked like a bier already, ceremonial candles surrounding it.

  'Bella! How good it is to see you! Come close that I may see how you look.'

  She smiled and held out her hand. Bella suppressed a gasp of surprise. The hand was so thin and almost transparent. Before it had been thin, but sinewy and brown, for her grandmother had spent most of her time out of doors.

  'Grandmother! Why did you not tell me you were ill?' she exclaimed as she crossed the room and kissed the old lady, then perched beside her on the high bed. 'Why did Aunt Anne not send for me?'

  'I forbade her. I didn't want to drag you away from Court. But from what that young man tells me I would have been doing you a service if I had! Never mind, you are here now. And you look remarkably well in your masculine attire.'

  Lady Davenport chuckled. Her voice was thin, but quite strong, and there was still a wicked glint in her eyes.

  Bella blushed. 'Oh, I had forgotten! I ought to change.'

  'No, now you are here I do not wish to lose a minute of your company. Tell me about this dashing Comte. Where does he come from?'

  'His estates are in the Loire Valley, not far from Orleans. His parents are both dead, and he has been at the Court of Francis the First for some years. He came to England on an embassy to negotiate the Lady Mary's hand for the Duc d'Orleans.'

  Lady Davenport's eyes twinkled.

  'That tells me some of the practical details, but what of the man? Is he as thoughtful and kind as he appears? Do you like him?'

  Bella's flushed face made it impossible for her to deny it.

  'He – is very kind. I do not know why he should have taken it upon himself to help me, but without him I would have been in the Tower by now, I think!' she replied as lightly as she could.

  'Hmm. And what of Thomas? Jane does not come here often, so I have little news of him.'

  'He grows more ambitious by the day! He wouldn't help me. He wanted me to attract the King! All he saw were the possible advantages to himself!'

  'I take it you have no desire to return to Court, then?'

  'No, never! Please may I stay here with you, Grandmother?'

  'We must see. Now tell me all about the latest fashions. And what has the King done with Hampton Court? It is many years since I was there, and I hear there have been great building works to enlarge it, make it fit for a King.'

  An hour later she sighed, looking suddenly pale and weary.

  'Go and fetch the Comte, Bella. I wish to speak with him before
I sleep. In the morning we will make the necessary arrangements.'

  When she had relayed this message and shown Amy to the room they were to share, Bella went to find her aunt.

  Anne Davenport was fifty years old, the younger sister of Bella's father. Once she had been a pretty girl, if the portrait painted when she was sixteen, which hung in the parlour, was accurate. Now she was still handsome, with a wide forehead and high cheekbones, but her body and face were gaunt and there was deep sadness in her eyes.

  She smiled in genuine pleasure when Bella came into her small, bare room, and rose from the praying-stool set before a statue of the Virgin.

  'Aunt? Oh, I am sorry. Do I disturb you?'

  'Of course not, child. You are always welcome. Come and sit on the bed. I have nowhere else.'

  The room was small and comfortless. Even now, at the height of summer, it was cold and smelled of damp. The bed was a thin, straw mattress placed on a wooden base, with just one thin blanket and no pillow. Anne Davenport wore a heavy, woollen gown, and as Bella hugged her she felt the rough, coarse material scrape uncomfortably against the bare flesh of her hands.

  Clearly her aunt, banished from her convent, sought to make her present home as much like it as she could, with its poverty and bodily mortification.

  'I was with your grandmother when that Frenchman saw her. So that impossible Henry Tudor has been casting sheep's eyes at you, has he?'

  'I am afraid so.' Bella sighed. 'Thomas was overjoyed, but I could not bear the thought, not even to advance the Davenports, and I am far from convinced it would have done that even if I had produced a dozen sons!'

  Her aunt laughed scornfully.

  'Thomas was always a dolt. If he had the slightest scrap of sense he would never have married that dreadfully opinionated woman.'

  'Aunt Anne, I'm surprised at you!' Bella reproved gaily. 'Should not nuns always speak kindly of people?'

  'We should also speak the truth,' her aunt said drily. 'It would have been better for the family if you had been the man.'

  'Never mind me. How ill is Grandmother?'

  'She will not last many more days, Bella. But she has not suffered, and now her vigour has gone she will welcome death. Do not mourn for her. She would be sorry for that. She's had a full life and is ready for the next world.'

  'But I shall miss her so much! She has always been here. She brought me up after my mother died.'

  'We will all miss her, but that is our selfishness. She deserves to rest, to join those who went before her. Her main concern is what will happen to you.'

  'And you,' Bella said slowly. 'Will Thomas permit you to remain here?'

  Anne laughed in genuine amusement, and spoke with no trace of bitterness.

  'Of course not. It would offend His Majesty. He cannot do anything while my mother lives, for he is afraid of her! But when she is gone, he will be more afraid of spoiling his chances with the King, and would not dare to shelter a nun in one of his houses.'

  'Then what will you do? Where can you go?'

  'I have plans to travel to France. It is all arranged for me to join a convent there, and I would have gone many years since if Mother had not persuaded me to remain with her until she died. It is a more urgent problem to decide what you will do. I believe Pedro was also at Court, representing the Emperor?'

  'He was in the party which came for discussions, yes.'

  'There was talk some years ago of a marriage between you. You have a good dowry, and though he is a younger son he is not poor. Do you favour such a match?'

  Bella was silent for some while.

  'I don't think I do, not now,' she replied eventually. 'When we met, he was attentive, and I thought I loved him. He spoke of helping me to escape from the King and taking me to Spain, where Henry could neither forbid us to marry nor punish us if we did, but during the last few weeks he changed, and began to think as Thomas did. I suspect he believed a widowed queen would be a better match than a mere cousin!'

  'Then we will forget him. If you had any desire for the religious life you could come with me to the convent, but I do not think that would serve. Is there any other man you might marry?'

  Bella shook her head.

  'There is no one, but even if there were, no man would dare to offend the King by marrying me. He would soon find himself in the Tower. Whether the King still wanted me or not he would consider it a slight and be intent on punishment. I could not endanger anyone in such a way, either.'

  'We will see. But you are safe here for a few days while we make plans. The King's men were convinced you had not been here. They won't return until they have searched elsewhere and still not found you. Now, it is late and you must go to bed. God bless you, my dear.'

  That night Bella was restless, and Amy, in the other bed, tossed and turned all night, too. It was the first time for a week Bella had slept in the softness of a feather mattress, but it was also the first time for a week she had slept without the comfort of Charles's presence nearby, the feeling of security it gave her to know he would protect her from harm.

  She woke early and looked across at Amy. The girl had been crying, and looked worn out with the journey and the anxiety of the past week.

  Bella dressed quietly so as not to disturb her. She pulled on one of her old, cotton gowns. It was now faded and straining at the seams for she'd last worn it when she was fourteen or so, but it made her feel at home. She crept downstairs to where Meg, her old nursemaid, was already in the huge kitchen, baking bread in the long oven set in the corner of the big fireplace.

  'I missed your bread,' Bella said as she tore a chunk off a new loaf and began to spread it with butter and honey.

  'You mean the King's bakers cannot make bread as well as I?' Meg asked, her eyes crinkling as she laughed.

  'No, nor cook pastry or roast meat as well as you do.' Bella suddenly sobered. 'Tell me the truth, Meg, how ill is Grandmother?'

  'I did not think she would last so long,' she confessed. 'I believe it was those men, the King's soldiers, coming that rallied her. She knew you would be here as soon as you could, once she had heard what they had to say. She was determined to stay alive until she could help you.'

  'Has she suffered?'

  'No more than the usual aches. She's a great age, Bella love. It is age, nothing more. And she has had a good life. She will be happy to pass on to the next, so she would not want you to grieve for her. There are many she loves waiting for her on the other side, and one day you will meet her there yourself.'

  Bella nodded. 'It is always worse for those left behind, is it not?'

  'You must not fret. Tell me about this handsome young man you brought with you. French, is he not?'

  Everyone wanted her to tell them about Charles, Bella thought. What could she say, apart from the fact he was handsome, kind, gracious, a good companion, a safe protector? She could not tell even Meg or her grandmother that she'd forgotten her resentment and suspicions he was spying on the Lady Mary, and come to depend on him more than anyone else. She could hardly confess she dreaded having his support removed as much as she feared being left alone when her grandmother died and her aunt went off to France.

  At that moment Meg's husband, the farm overseer, came into the kitchen. After greeting him, Bella escaped to wander over the old, familiar house she had loved as a child.

  She longed to go outside, but last night both Charles and her grandmother had expressly forbidden it, saying they did not know what spies might be around, to report her presence to the King's men.

  Her aunt, Meg had warned her, spent every morning at her devotions in a small room which had been furnished as a chapel. Amy was still fast asleep when Bella peeped into their room.

  Charles was nowhere to be seen, but when Meg called her to go to her grandmother, Bella found he had been closeted with the old lady for some time.

  Lady Davenport looked even weaker than on the previous night. Her voice was faint, although it was clear she had lost none of her force of char
acter.

  'Bella, come in. We have been discussing where you are to go.'

  'Can I not stay here?' Bella pleaded anxiously.

  'It is impossible, child. As soon as I am dead the vultures will gather. You do not imagine Thomas would agree to hide you, do you?'

  Bella shook her head. 'No, nor Jane. So where must I go?'

  'It would be dangerous for them, even if they were willing. And you could not hope to remain hidden until the King died. That is what it would mean, Bella,' Charles said gently. 'It is too dangerous for you to stay in England.'

  She looked from him to her grandmother, who was nodding her head.

  'I do not want to leave you,' she said quietly.

  'You must. I shall last very little longer. I want to have your promise so I may die peacefully.'

  'Where must I go? Have you friends I could go to, perhaps?'

  'You might go to your mother's people in Spain.'

  'But I know nothing about them! I can write a little Spanish, and have written a few letters to them, but I don't speak Spanish and they would not want me.'

  'It would be hard for you, my child, I know. In Spain they keep women secluded, far more than here. After the freedom you have enjoyed, it would be difficult to conform. But there is little alternative.'

  Bella wondered suddenly whether they would constrain her to marry Pedro. Would he want her still? Or would he be angry she had spoiled her chance to become Queen of England? She had never been really sure whether she wanted to marry her cousin, or whether she had been misled by the physical excitement his kisses awoke in her. After his willingness to see her wed to Henry Tudor she knew she could never marry him.

  'I think I would prefer almost anything else,' Bella said, trying to smile cheerfully.

  'That is what I thought. Charles, would you leave us for a while? Bella will come to you later.'

  'Of course.'

  He bent to kiss Lady Davenport's hand, and they smiled like old friends. Bella wondered briefly, for her grandmother did not normally choose to address virtual strangers by their given names on such short acquaintance. But she had little time left, Bella recalled with a pang. There was no more leisure for her to cultivate friendships.