meaning.”
“I am like my brother, Charles. I too believe that which I want to.” Her fingers dug into his flesh and the light pain was exquisite; he wished it were stronger. “But,” she went on, “I would not waste my energy pretending about a masque.”
“You would choose more serious subjects?”
“Charles, I tell you this: I do not believe I shall ever go to Flanders as the Princess of Castile.”
“It is a great match.”
“It is a hateful match. I loathe that boy.”
“It was once said that you loved him dearly.”
“My women used to put his picture by my bed so that it was the first thing I saw on waking; they used to tell me I was in love with him, that I could not wait for the day when we would be husband and wife.”
“And was it not so?”
“Charles, do not be foolish! How could it be? What did I know of love? I had never seen the boy. Have you seen his picture? He looks like a drooling idiot.”
“The grandson of Maximilian and Ferdinand could scarcely be that.”
“Why could he not be so? His mother is mad.”
“My lady, have a care. People are wondering what causes your vehemence.”
“Have I not reason for vehemence? To be given in marriage to a boy younger than myself … a boy whom I know I shall hate! If I could choose the man I would marry he would be a
“Alas, matches are made for princesses.”
“I would I were not a princess.”
“Nay, you are proud. You are like your brother. Your rank delights you.”
“That is true, but there are things that delight me more. Oh, have done with talking round this matter. I know my own mind. I know what I want. Shall I tell you?”
“No, my Princess. It would not be wise.”
“Since when has Charles Brandon become such a sober-sides?”
“Since his emotions became engaged where he knows they should not.”
“Charles! Are you a puppet, then, to be jerked on strings, to be told: Do this! Do that? Or are you a man who has a will of his own?”
“My lady, I should ask you to give me permission to leave your side.”
“Charles, you are a coward!”
“Yes, my lady; and if you have any regard for me, you must see how misplaced it is, for how could you feel friendship for a coward?”
“Friendship!” He heard the tremor in her voice and he knew that she was near to tears. “I am not a child any more, Charles. Let us at least be frank with one another.”
He was silent and she stamped her foot. “Let us be frank,” she repeated.
He gripped her wrist and heard her catch her breath at the pain. In a moment, he thought, she would attract attention to them and the first rumors would start.
He drew her closer to him and said roughly: “Yes, let us be frank. You imagine that you love me.”
“Imagine!” she cried scornfully. “I imagine nothing. I know. And if you are going to say you don’t love me, you’re a liar, Charles Brandon, as well as a coward.”
“And you, a proud Tudor, find you love a liar and coward?”
“One does not love people for their virtues. I know you have been married … twice. I know that you cast off your first wife. I should not love you because you were a virtuous husband to another woman, should I? What care I, how many wives you have had, how many mistresses you have? All I know is this, that one day I shall command you to cast them all aside because …”
“My love,” he murmured tenderly, “you are attracting attention to us. That is not the way.”
“No,” she retorted, “that is not the way. You called me your love.”
“Did you doubt that I love you?”
“No, no. Love such as mine must meet with response. Charles, what shall we do? How can I marry that boy? Is it not a touch of irony that he should be Charles, too. I think of him as
“My dearest Princess,” he said soberly, “you are the King’s sister. You are affianced to the Prince of Castile. The match has been made and cannot be broken simply because you love a commoner.”
“It must be, Charles. I refuse to marry him. I shall
He pressed her hand tightly and she laughed. “How strong you are, Charles. My rings are cutting into my fingers and it is very painful, but I’d rather have pain from you than all the gentleness in the world from any other. What shall I do? Tell me that. What shall I do?”
“First, say nothing of this mad passion of yours to anyone.”
