The Heretic Wind: The Life of Mary Tudor, Queen of England by Judith Arnopp (best ereader for students TXT) 📕

their toll and I grow wan and weak, constantly ailing, a shadow ofthe girl I was before. We are moving to Hertford while the apartments atHatfield are thoroughly cleaned. On the morning of our departure, I wake to thenow familiar cramps in my belly. I cannot bear the thought of the jolting nightmareof travelling by litter and bury my head beneath the pillow. When they come torouse me, I groan, barely lifting my head from the mattress.

“I am too sickto travel. I will follow on after, when I am recovered.”

Footstepspatter away and I sink gratefully back into the feather-stuffed mattress. Ashort while later, the chamber door is thrown open and Lady Shelton’s voice cutsthrough my slumber.

“You will getup now, Lady Mary, and prepare for the journey. It is the king’s desire thatyou accompany us. If you do not wish to offend him, you would be better to doas I say.”

Father’s facefloats before my mind’s eye. I see his beaming smile, a look of love, akindling humour, but … it melts again. His lips tighten, his button mouthdisappearing in fury, his eyes narrowing into contempt. I cannot bring myselfto displease him. Throwing the pillow across the room, I thrust my legs frombeneath the covers and, cradling my griping stomach with both hands, I staggerto the close stool.

The screenthat offers privacy from the bedchamber is faded now but once it was a richtapestry of colour. While I attend myself as best I can, the grey faces ofancient huntsmen and washed out maidens of yore stare back at me. The hind theyhave slaughtered pours dark brown blood onto a bleached sward. I pull down myshift and creep, weak-limbed, back into the chamber. Lady Shelton watches meintently, unsure if I am shamming, but one look at my face and she softens,just a little.

“I will sendsomeone to help you dress,” she says, “but do not tarry. We leave at noon.”

I am tuggingat my tangled hair when Nell arrives. She is carrying a large covered ewer thatshe sets on the nightstand. “The water is still warm,” she says. “I brought itfrom the princess’ chamber.”

I smile widely,grateful for her small kindness. Softly and tentatively, for it is far outsidethe requirements of her usual duties, she wipes my face with a soft cloth, dabsmy fingers and the back of my neck.

“At least thesun is with us today, my lady. Your journey will not be so dour in thisweather.”

Although it isbarred, I look instinctively toward the shuttered window. I cannot see out andeven if I could, the chamber is north facing and subject to the coldest winds.It will be pleasant to see the sun.

“I hate ithere,” I whisper, “but I am loath to leave.”

“It’s only fora short while, my lady, and I will be among the company. Should you feel …uneasy, look for me. I will try not to be too far away.”

Once, I wasserved by only the grandest in the land. It was regarded an honour to sit at myside at dinner or walk with me in the gardens. Even to comb my hair and wash mylinen was a sought-after appointment, but now I am grateful to this lowlyservant for she goes beyond duty and shows me friendship. The first truefriendship I have ever known. She gains nothing from it and likely never will.Grateful tears well in my eyes but I do my best to smile. My cheeks are so tautI feel they will crack; my face crumples and I drop my head into my hands.

“Now, now mylady,” Nell says. “Tears never helped no one.”

I dash themaway with the back of my hand. She is right. Tears won’t help but I am damnedif I will be pushed around. I am a Tudor princess and it is I who should bedoing the pushing.

I stand up, momentarilyforgetting my indisposition. My head swims. I grab Nell’s shoulder and wait formy equilibrium to return. When the room has righted itself, I pick up my prayerbook and look around to see if I have left anything behind. For a moment, Ihave forgotten that I have few possessions now.

“Come along,Nell,” I say as if she was the one reluctant to leave. “I’d better not keepthem waiting.”

I make my waydownstairs as swiftly as I can manage but, on reaching the door, I find thetravelling party almost ready to depart. Elizabeth has been settled in thefirst litter with the foremost ladies of the household comfortably installedaround her. The lesser ladies have mounted the second litter, and I suppose Iam expected to take my place with them.

It is aninsult. I should have my own litter, attended by the grandest women at court!The very least I should expect is to travel with Elizabeth. My former resolveto be obedient dwindles away and the old fury raises its head again. I clutchmy prayer book and when Lady Shelton leans from her litter and urges me tohurry up, I stick out my chin and stubbornly refuse.

Her facefreezes.

“Do as I say,Mary. You will make us late.”

I shake myhead, just once, and glare defiantly at her.

“I will notride behind. I am a princess of this land and should be given precedence.”

She sighs andbegins to clamber from her seat; a servant rushes forward to assist her. Myheart almost fails as she strides toward me, no longer even trying to concealher contempt. Her face is white, her eyes slit with fury.

“Get in thelitter,” she spits through her teeth, pointing toward the waiting vehicle.

I shake myhead again and our eyes clash – this is a battle of wits that I am determined notto lose, but my courage is flagging.

I am MaryTudor, I tell myself. I am Mary Tudor!

There isnothing she can do to force me to her will. Let her tell the concubine. Let hersend for the king. Let him throw me into the Tower if he wishes. They cannotmake me submit to their orders.

Her eye shiftsfrom mine to focus on something to my rear. I turn my head and catch sight ofNorfolk, accompanied by a household guard. Before I comprehend what is happening,he grabs