The Heretic Wind: The Life of Mary Tudor, Queen of England Judith Arnopp (best books to read in your 20s .txt) 📖

I writestraight away to my father, striving to conceal my pain behind dignity andreason.

…when Iheard, I could not a little marvel, trusting verily that your Grace was notprivy to the same letter, as concerning the leaving out of the name ofprincess, forasmuch as I doubt not in your goodness but that your Grace doth takeme for his lawful daughter, born in true matrimony. Wherefore, I were to say tothe contrary, I should assuredly your Grace would not that I should…

I sign it Yourmost humble daughter, Mary, Princess knowing full well the onslaught of royaldispleasure this will bring. I am not surprised when, a few days later, theEarl of Oxford leads a deputation to Beaulieu with a clear message from theking as to his expectations.

At first, theyare polite, but when it becomes apparent that I will not concede, they rail atme and make the folly and danger of my conduct quite clear. My knees shake and myvoice is tremulous as I attempt to refute their words. These men are tall, theyare broad and they fill my chambers with contempt when by rights they should kneelto me as the princess of this realm.

It takes allmy strength to quell the fury that rages within me. I close my lips so firmlyover my teeth that it makes my jaws ache. My eyes sting with tears and my chestis so constricted I can scarcely draw breath. For hours they harangue me withthe king’s expectations, demanding that I do my duty and adhere to his wishes.It takes all my reserve to repel them.

At last, whenthey ride away, I watch from the window, glad to see the dust from their hoovessettle, leaving the bailey empty and Beaulieu Abbey in peace again. But for howlong? I tilt my head back and call down the vengeance of Heaven upon them.

Stilltrembling with rage, I turn on my heel and return to my chambers, sit down towrite a letter to my father. He may be the king but even kings must answer tothe law, and to God.

As long as I live,I will be obedient to his rule but I will never, NEVER renounce thetitles, rights and privileges with which God has endowed me. I will never castdoubt upon the validity of my mother’s marriage, or upon her virtue, byacknowledging illegitimacy. They can kill me if they want to.

December 1533

Shortly afterwards, I learn I amto be evicted from Beaulieu and must attend upon the ‘Princess’ Elizabeth atHatfield … as her servant. While humiliation clangs like a great bell in my ear,I stare at the letter. This cannot be happening. I want to hide myself away inmy rooms, lock myself in and refuse to see anyone, refuse to eat, refuse topray, refuse to live – but I do not. All I can do is write again to the king,informing him of my unhappiness, begging that he take pity.

In response, hesends Thomas Howard, the great whore’s uncle, to force my compliance. I amnot yet fully grown but while I wait for him to speak first, I clench my fiststight and stand as tall as I can.

“My lady,” hesays, his lips twitching at the glee of using the reduced address. “The kingdemands that you attend the Princess Elizabeth at Hatfield.”

I clear bilefrom my throat and look down my Tudor nose.

“Sir.” I curlmy lip at the word. “Pray inform my father that the title ‘Princess of England’belongs to myself and no other. By rights it should be she who serves me,when she is of an age to do so.”

His cheektwitches, but not from any sense of humour; it is disdain I see in his eye.Were it not for fear of the consequences, it is clear he would take a rod to myback.

“I am not hereto debate but to do my master’s will,” he growls, “no matter what it takes.”

I standsilently before him and wonder that a man with so much nasal hair can stilldraw breath. He is a brute and a bully, and I am at a loss as to how to breachsuch coldheartedness. I realise there is nothing I can do but comply.

Refusing tolook at him, I keep my gaze fixed on a rich tapestry hanging behind him; a blurof gold and red, with a splash of green.

“I cannot justleave. I need time to prepare myself, my servants…”

“You’ll not betaking servants with you.” He cuts rudely through my speech and mentally I vowthat if I am ever in the position to revenge this day, he shall receive nomercy.

“I must haveservants.” I speak through clenched teeth. “My cousin, Lady Pole, mustaccompany…”

He cuts meagain.

“My orders arethat Lady Pole will no longer be required in this household...”

I stand up,clench my fists and shout in his face.

“Lady Pole hasbeen with me my entire life!”

“Until now.”

A movementbeside me. I had forgotten Margaret’s presence. She clutches my wrist and holdsout her other hand beseechingly to Howard.

“Sir, showmercy. I ask no payment but will gladly serve the … the Lady Mary … at noexpense to the king.”

Norfolk turnshis back. The guards at the door snap to attention. “Make arrangements, LadyMary,” he snaps rudely over his shoulder. “You depart for Hatfield tomorrow.”

With the soundof his footsteps still echoing along the corridor, I turn to Margaret and find myown hopelessness mirrored in her face. We have been together for so long shehas become a second mother to me. I will never be happy without her. It ishard, cruel, to be separated from the queen, but from Margaret too? She is myGodmother, my friend…

“Oh Margaret,”I whimper. “How am I to endure this?”

Her fingerswrap about my wrist and she squeezes reassuringly, her nose close to mine.

“You shallendure it, my lady. You are stronger than you know. Look how you have borne thebrunt of the king’s displeasure thus far.”

“Because I hadyou. You made me feel safe. Your love … gave me hope and courage. Without you,I am just a girl … a weak and feeble child…”

“Just as Iwas, my dear Princess. There have been times