Dear Heart, How Like You This by Wendy J. Dunn Read Free Book Online

heavens? You know, Tommy, when I die I will go up a staircase just like that, and maybe when all earthly breath has gone out from me, God will let me become a small part of the air all around us. I feel so akin to the wind, Tommy. I almost feel as if the wind is my brother, and, if I wanted to, I could call it to do my bidding.”
    Anna then rushed out from beneath the trees, back into the rain, to the clearing close by. I followed and saw her raise her arms, and spin around and around.
    “Brother wind, brother wind,” she sang as she spun.
    I laughed at her, and came close to teasing her, but lo and behold the wind did begin to increase its tempo.
    To the children we once were, magic seemed to be just underneath the surface of everyday life. Scratch and we would find. It did not completely surprise me then (nor does it now) that the wind appeared to answer Anne’s call. But it was no witchcraft. We three as children felt so deeply about so many things that it was as if all these invisible cords connected us securely to what we loved.
    *
    Often, when we were out riding, Anna would frighten me, especially since we, her elders and male protectors, were supposed to ensure her safe return. She frequently rode as if the devil himself was on Astra’s tail. However, I took great heart from the knowledge that Anne was a born rider, a girl who grew up to be a woman who immensely enjoyed the chase. Unfortunately this appeared as one of the many things the King would later find compellingly attractive about her. I believe the King had never before met a woman willing to match, even excel, him in any of his own pursuits as Anne often did.
    Without any doubt, Anne and the King had a love of music in common. Many, many years later, when our lives began to be deeply shadowed by what the fates had in store for us, Anne told me this. The King first became interested in her when he stood outside Queen Catherine’s door and heard a lovely voice accompanied by a skilful lute player. Opening the door, he found to his great surprise that the voice, and the lute, belonged to the same person. It was at this exact moment—the King himself would one day tell Anna—he made his decision to begin his wooing.
     
    By the Good Lord’s Holy Passion! Why am I tormenting myself with what I know will be? It is the long-ago past I want to look back on; the beginnings of our tragedies can wait for a later time. For the present moment I wish only to stay with the boy I once was. Yea, stay with the boy who possessed such simple, complete faith that only good would befall us in the future.
    *
    If Father Stephen was mentor to our developing minds, then Simonette, the girls’ governess who also cast a loving, motherly eye in George’s and my direction, was like the guiding star of our hearts. She must have been married and widowed while yet a very young girl because I can never remember her striking anything but that of an exceedingly youthful note—especially compared to the mature auras surrounding our priest and the other adults of our childhoods.
    Simonette, in those early years of our childhoods, was a very comely young woman endowed with deep auburn hair, lovely, soft, porcelain skin, and clear blue eyes. She was a laughing girl who spoke with a pretty, lilting accent. She also played and taught us how to play various musical instruments. Verily, we all received our first lessons on the lute from Simonette.
    She always seemed one of those individuals who took great delight in just being alive. Therefore, I remember her as an extremely happy person, with a smile that would dimple both cheeks and light up her eyes.
    When not busy attending to her other duties, Simonette did not hesitate to sit with the good Father and the three of us. Her hands were kept busy completing yet another one of her delicate and exquisite embroideries, while we children sat under the green shade of oak trees in the midst of some lesson.
    At eventide often we gathered into the