“Listen, little sister. We of royal blood cannot choose our brides and bridegrooms. We must remember always our duty to the State. We have to be brave and patient, and in good time we grow to love those chosen for us because we know it is our duty to do so.”
“You married whom you wished.”
“Kate is the daughter of a king and queen. Had she not been I should not have been able to marry her … however much I wished for the match. Nor should I have done so, because I have always known that to consider the advantages to the State is the first duty of princes.”
“Henry, something must happen. I cannot go to that boy. He is but a boy … and I thank God for that, otherwise I should have been cruelly sent away from my home and all I love, ere this. He is about twelve years old now. When he is fourteen they will say he is old enough to have a wife and then … then … unless you save me …”
“It is two years away, sister. Dismiss it from your mind. In two years’ time you will understand more than you do now. You will be reconciled to our fate. Believe me, a great deal can happen in two years. Why, at one time I repudiated Kate … then, when I was King, I married her.”
Mary stamped her foot. “Henry, stop treating me as a child.”
He smiled at her as indulgently as ever, but there was a sharp note in his voice. “Remember to whom you speak, sister.”
“Henry,” she said vehemently, “it is because I never want to leave England. Let me marry in England. Greenwich … Richmond … this river … this King … these I love.”
He patted her hand. “Methinks,” he said, “that I am over-soft with you, sister. It is because of the great love I bear you. I no more want you to leave us than you wish to. But I can no more keep you back than I could have kept Margaret.”
“You did not care that Margaret went.”
“I had no wish for her to go to Scotland. I love not the Scots.”
“And you love these Flemings, these Spaniards?”
“My wife is a Spaniard, sister, remember. Oh come, smile. Do not grieve about tomorrow when there is so much to make you smile today. I will tell you something. We will have a masque to beguile the time. You shall help me plan it, eh? And it shall be in your honor. How is that?” He turned and called: “Brandon! Compton!”
And it was when they were joined by these two that he noticed the look which Mary bestowed on Charles Brandon. She was too young to disguise her feelings and Henry believed he knew why she had suddenly become so eager to avoid the marriage with Charles of Castile.
So she had cast her eyes on Brandon. Well, Brandon was one of the most attractive men in his Court …
Oh yes, he could quite understand the effect a man like Brandon would have on an impressionable girl.
It was nothing, though. A passing fancy. This happened with young girls now and then.
Brandon at the moment was unattached. It might be well to deal with that matter. When he had time he would remember. In the meantime he must keep Mary amused, for he was too fond of the child to be able to look on unmoved when she was unhappy.
She would have to go to Flanders or Spain at some time, but that time was not yet. He had to remember that she was a young girl with a young girl’s fancies.
All the same he would do something about Brandon.
Henry’s friendship with Charles was greater than ever during that year, and the King appointed his friend Keeper of the Royal Manor and Park of Wanstead and Ranger of the New Forest. Instead of Squire of the Royal Body he was now Knight of the same, and they were rarely out of each other’s company.
One winter’s day when they were returning from the hunt together Henry said to Charles: “I should like to bestow some title on you, Charles, and I have been turning this matter over in my mind for some time.”
“Your Grace has been so good to me already …”
“It gives me pleasure to honor my friends. But you who are so often in the company of your King should have a title. It has been brought to my notice that Elizabeth Grey is the sole heiress of her father, John Grey, Viscount Lisle. I propose to make the girl your ward. Then it is up to you, Charles; marry her and you will take over the title. Viscount Lisle! What think you?”
“I thank Your Grace.”
Henry slapped his friend’s arm. “Go to,” he said. “You have our leave to visit the girl. She has more than a title to offer you, Charles. There’s a fortune to go with it. Now go, and come back and tell me you have become Lord Lisle. It grieves me to see you without a wife.”
Charles renewed his thanks to the King and left Court, wondering whether Henry was more astute than he had imagined. But perhaps no great shrewdness was necessary. Mary, with her passionate vehemence, could so easily betray her feelings. Doubtless she had already done so to her chief lady-in-waiting, Lady Guildford, who had been her governess since her childhood; could it be that Lady Guildford had thought it her duty to inform the King?
If he were to prove that he was not to blame for the Princess’s passion, he must obey Henry’s command with speed. If there had been a hope of marrying Mary he would have worked with all his might to bring about that desirable end; but there was not. Why, he thought, even if she were not affianced to Prince Charles, she would never be allowed to marry plain Charles Brandon; and if Henry thought he had raised his eyes so high he would feel it imperative to slap him down. Who knew, that could be the end of the brilliant career which was opening out before him.
He arrived at the home of Elizabeth Grey to find a mansion which was an appropriate setting for a rich heiress. All this land would be mine, he thought. This house, a fortune, a great title. I trust she is beautiful.
He waited in the long hall for her servants to tell her of his arrival, but while he paced up and down he was thinking of Mary, picturing her fury when she heard that he was married. He murmured: “Mary, my Princess, it is useless. You would have had us both in the Tower.” She would answer: “Willingly would I endure imprisonment in
