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

me rudely from behind, constricting my arms so I cannot fight. As helifts me from the ground I feel the warm gush of blood between my thighs, andpain shoots through my body, but the humiliation of his manhandling hurts mefar more.

I kick out andstruggle against him but he is broad and strong, and I am just a girl. Lettingloose a torrent of abuse, I fling words at him that would destroy my mother ifshe heard them. With my body held firmly against his, he carries me forward anddrops me onto the floor of the litter with my skirts about my knees. I sit up,straining forward, the tight bodice cutting into my ribs.

“You benightedwhoreson!” I scream above the pounding of my heart. “I will have your headfor this! Do you hear me? You will burn in hell for what you have done!”

My curses arenot meant for Norfolk alone but for the concubine and all her cohorts, forCromwell, and even for the king himself.

1535

And so it goes on. Year afteryear of humiliation and misery. I miss my mother, I miss my father, I miss MargaretPole, I miss my aunt Mary – all who were so dear to me, so vital to myhappiness, have been taken away. I have only Nell and, to some degree …Elizabeth who, although the cause of most of my pain, is only a baby and cannotbe held responsible. Her mother, on the other hand, is solely to blame.

Far toofrequently, the concubine visits Hatfield to spend an afternoon with herdaughter. I keep to my chambers; I have even less desire of her company thanshe has of mine. When the coast is clear, I go quietly to the nursery and takemy sister onto my lap. I recall the way she sat so happily on her mother’s kneeand tugged at her jewelled bodice, dislodged her splendid cap. I realise I’vebeen imagining some bond between us, a fantasy in which Elizabeth loved me. I’dplayed a game where she was mine alone, and witnessing her affection for thewoman I hate taints our time together. Ignoring her playfulness, I pass herback to the nurse and quit the chamber to seek the solace of the gardens.

The years Ihave spent here have been long and irksome. Sometimes I wonder how I havewithstood it all. Nobody cares how miserable I am, or how ill I become for afew days each month. Sometimes, it takes me a week to recover from the megrimand then, as soon as I am recovered, it is almost time for the next month’sbleed. In the privacy of my chamber I give way to tears, but in the company ofthe household or when Norfolk comes to bully me into agreeing my parents’marriage was no marriage, I maintain a grim and steely demeanour.

They think mehard and intractable but since the day I was thrust bodily into the litter, Ihave concealed every hint of personal pain. My misery is tucked away, out ofsight, but inside I am broken, my heart as tangled and torn as a bunch of discardedribbons.

They try everytrick they can think of to break my resolve. They make false promises; theymake false threats. The concubine wheedles, pretending friendship andpreference at court if I agree to her demands, but I see straight through toher vile black heart. I refuse to look at her and will never acknowledge her asmy queen.

In the end, theking sends Cromwell to deal with me, but still I refuse to concede. He doesn’tshout and storm like Norfolk but speaks in whispers. He is too wise to bawl atme; he employs the stealth and duplicity of a snake.

“I have triedto intercede with the king, Lady Mary, but since you refuse to do his bidding,I must support my king. I cannot stand against him, not even for you.”

His sneeringwords appear to wash over me as water washes from a duck’s back but, in truth,they hit every mark. I am terrified he will carry out his threat to throw me inthe Tower. When it is over, and I am safely back in my chambers, my body startsto shake. I can do nothing to control it. As the tears come, I fall to my knees.Dear God, provide me with the strength to endure this.

The noose aroundme has drawn so tight that there is no way even for Chapuys to find a way toget Mother’s letters through. Nell brings me news but it is second or thirdhand and I cannot rely on it. There really is very little for me to live for.Nothing but endless misery. I wonder if the world has forgotten me; if perhaps,sometimes, one of my old friends remembers me and asks: Whatever happened toMary?

Afraid to eat anddenied the liberty of the park where I might take exercise, I soon become sosick that Shelton is alarmed enough to inform the king. He does not comehimself, of course; Father is fearful of any contagion. Instead, he sends DrButts, the royal physician, straight from court. I am abed when he arrives. Heenters my chamber, a ghost from the days of my childhood, and places his coolfingers on my brow. His smile is so kind it almost breaks my steely reserve.

I grasp hiswrist.

“Have you seenmy lady mother, sir?” I whisper, to avoid the keen ear of Lady Shelton, whowaits a little way off by the window. His eyes meet mine and he shakes hishead.

“Stick outyour tongue, Lady Mary,” he says loudly, and I do as he bids. He frowns at it andasks about my diet. I open my mouth to answer but Lady Shelton breaks throughmy words, afraid I will damn her.

“She is stubbornand refuses proper food. It is no wonder she is frail. She has brought this onherself. I do my best, but she is defiant and stubborn.”

“Hmm.”

He presses mystomach, making me wince, and we both stare at the tight bloated belly protrudinglike a huge boil beneath my shift. My torso is thin, my arms and legs likesticks, but at this time of the month when the curse is upon me, my bellyswells and