Reluctant Queen: Tudor Historical Novel About Mary Rose Tudor, the Defiant Little Sister of King Henry VIII by Geraldine Evans Read Free Book Online

litter; of cloth of gold, embroidered with gold lilies in wrought gold, it ostentatiously proclaimed that while Mary might be the new Queen of France, she was also the sister of Henry—a Henry, moreover, determined to impress others by this display of wealth. And while, on the back and front were French lilies, they shared the honours with the parti-coloured roses of York and Lancaster, the two horses which bore the litter trapped in like manner. Mary could only hope her behaviour, when she met King Louis and his court, would prove a match for such splendour.
    In deference to their recent travails, they approached Abbeville in easy stages. The Duke of Norfolk, riding beside Mary’s litter, took it upon himself to point out places of interest along the route. And as they approached the north east of Abbeville, close to the village of Crécy-en-Ponthieu, he reminded her that, one hundred and fifty years before, her ancestor, Edward III, had defeated the French at the Battle of Crécy. And, in 1066, from the village of St Valery, the glorious conqueror, William, had sailed to invade England.
    Mary, her nerves stretched taut as lute strings, had scant interest in his anecdotes. Finally, even Norfolk that bluff soldier, noticed her distraction and fell silent. Shortly after, he took himself, his battle tales and his horse back to the head of the column.
    They were within a few miles of Abbeville when a party of riders approached. Norfolk rode back to tell Mary that they were led by Francis, the Duc de Valois, King Louis’ son-in-law and the heir-presumptive to the French throne.
    Mary studied him with curiosity. Francis was tall like her brother, but all likeness between them ended there. The French heir-presumptive was swarthy and, given his lusty reputation, had a suitably huge priapic nose. Francis was Louise of Savoy’s only son and she was said to be very ambitious for him. They must have thought, given Louis’ increasingly poor health, that it was only a matter of time before Francis stepped into Louis’ shoes. What must they think now? For the Louis they must have thought halfway to the grave had instead climbed from his deathbed and made of himself a bridegroom. If Louis managed to father a son on her and thus destroy Francis’ hopes of succeeding... Mary shuddered at the thought and its implications for her future. How he and his mother must hate her.
    Mary had naturally felt some trepidation at meeting this Valois heir-presumptive, a trepidation made worse when she remembered what her sister-in-law, Catherine had endured at the hands of the two ruthless kings: her father and father-in-law. The thought did nothing to relieve Mary’s growing anxieties. But, to her astonishment, Francis proved to be charm itself. After bowing low and trailing his expensive hat in the muddy road, he approached her and made a pretty speech welcoming her to France. Tall, dark and sardonic-looking, Francis, while far from conventionally handsome, with his long nose and devilish looks, carried himself with such a confident, rakish air, that these could be discounted. He enquired after their voyage and threw up his hands in horror to hear of their ordeals and the loss of the ‘Great Elizabeth’ and so many men.
    He gazed at the golden-haired Mary in her matching golden litter, the light of admiration in his eyes and said, ‘But, Madam, surely not. You all look so blooming. How the sea dared to toss such loveliness about I can scarce comprehend.’
    After her recent dalliance with a watery grave, Mary felt a little hysterical. She gave a nervous, girlish giggle. Lady Guildford, who had little time for flowerily-worded compliments, couldn’t restrain a snort.
    Francis ignored her and addressed himself solely to Mary. ‘I shall expect Cardinal Bayeux to chastise such an impudent sea strongly in his next sermon.’
    ‘I’m sure the Almighty knows what he’s about,’ Lady Guildford told Francis, piously. ‘And we’re here now, safe