FLAME OF DESIRE by Katherine Vickery Read Free Book Online Page A

misery, the currency had been debased and prices had soared. Was it any wonder that many of the poor had turned to a life of crime?
    “Would that I could help them,” she murmured, but knew in her heart that there was little she could do. There were so many poor. What would be their fate with Northumberland in power? He was known for squeezing the poor of their life’s blood and had put to death Edward Seymour, the only friend in power who had shown them any sympathy.
    Heather continued along her way, feeling the rough stones beneath her slippers. She passed the colorful wooden signs which marked each shop: a unicorn for the goldsmith, the head of a horse for a harness maker, three round pills for the apothecary, a white arm with stripes of red for the surgeon-barber. Standing in the doorway in his checkered apron, the barber raised his hand in greeting to Heather. She was well-respected in the area, being one who bought their wares.
    Next to the barber was the baker’s shop, where an apprentice was removing loaves of bread from the oven with a long-handled wooden shovel. The whispers of the housewives standing in a circle around the baker came to Heather’s ears.
    “Who is this Jane Grey Dudley that she call herself our queen?”
    “A half-cousin of Edwards, the granddaughter of Henry’s sister.”
    “Ha, she is no queen. Mary is our rightful ruler. She is her father’s true daughter and the king’s sister.”
    “Mary is a papist. It will be much better with one of our own for queen. She is virtuous and learned, this Jane, though just a chit of sixteen.”
    “Mary is just as virtuous and learned and she is of royal blood on both sides. Her mother was a Spanish princess.”
    “Poor Mary. She has suffered so these many years. Would that she were to be our ruler. Perhaps she would govern us with gentleness. I fear this Jane and her father-in-law, Northumberland.”
    Heather heard many rumors, that Jane was reluctant, had fainted, had protested that she was unfit for the perilous honor forced upon her, that she had accepted only after her relatives had pleaded with her, telling her their lives would be forfeit were she to refuse.
    Heather felt pity for this young woman, only a couple of years younger than she. Perhaps the crown would prove a heavy burden for one so young. And Northumberland, what would he do now?
    Northumberland. She could not think of him without being reminded of her father. Although she had tried to put it from her mind, Heather was bothered by her father’s actions, his reluctance to let her see inside the moneybox. Had it anything to do with the meeting of the Privy Council, that meeting that Northumberland himself had called? Her father was one of its newest members.
    She thought: I wish that my father would stay far away from the duke. Was the duke perhaps bribing her father? Heather decided that it could not be true. Thomas was miserly, but he had so far proven to be an honest man.
    Perhaps instead he feared that I would ask for a new dress if I were to see the abundance of coins within the moneybox , she reasoned. Looking down at the plain linen gown she wore, a simple frock of brown with long sleeves, at the plain apron covering it, she thought how well she fit in with the surroundings. She could nearly be mistaken for a servant or a simple housewife.
    Adroitly dodging a foul-smelling drunk, Heather was shocked to realize that she had come farther than usual, no doubt lost to her thoughts. The area was a haunt for sailors and the like, a dingy narrow street where taverns dotted the landscape. Although unfamiliar with the area, she had no fear for it was still daylight and honest men were still at their work. Besides, Heather had lived in London all her life and was no country miss. Keeping her wits about her, she merely turned around in her tracks with the intent to retrace her steps and return to her father’s counting room. It was then that she saw him. There could be no mistake. How