Free Secrets of the Tudor Court Boxed Set by Kate Emerson

stocking.
    Left alone, I found myself gazing with real longing at the bed. A lump marked the location of the spaniel one of my bedfellows kept as a pet. Braveheart, she called him. I usually ignored the annoying little creature, but I envied him the warmth of those blankets and fur coverlets.
    The Lady Mary would not miss me, I thought. She had a bevy of young women surrounding her. Unfortunately, the same could not be said of Mother Guildford. Nothing escaped her notice, and of late she had paid particular attention to my comings and goings. Resigned, I left the chamber and slowly made my way along the deserted passageway.
    I had not gone far when I saw a gloved hand emerge from behind a tapestry. When I stopped and stared, it beckoned to me. The thought crossed my mind that the hand might belong to Charles Brandon. Was he waiting there, in an alcove just large enough to hide two people from passersby?
    I had not forgotten Mother Guildford’s warnings aboutlecherous courtiers. I was curious to know who might be lurking behind the arras, even if it was not Charles Brandon, but this could be some unknown man waiting for any court damsel who might happen along.
    “Come out where I can see you,” I called, careful to stay more than an arm’s length distant.
    “Are we alone?” The words were muffled but I recognized the voice.
    “Harry Guildford, what are you playing at?” A trace of disappointment colored my question.
    “Are we alone?” he repeated.
    “Yes!” I stepped closer, reached around the side of the arras, grasped him by the arm, and pulled him out of hiding.
    It had been a great game, when we were younger, to conceal ourselves behind a convenient hanging or piece of furniture, then jump out and startle one another into shrieking aloud. Prince Henry in particular used to do this. Now, however, we were much too old for such foolishness. I saw at once, by the earnest expression on Harry’s face, that he knew it, too. He had not been in hiding simply for the fun of frightening me.
    “I must talk with you, Jane.”
    “Now?”
    “We will not be missed.” The desperation in his voice suggested that whatever troubled him was no small matter.
    “Come to my chamber, then,” I said. “No one will bother us there.”
    We were in luck. There were still coals in the brazier that sat in the small square of open floor between the bed and the chests full of clothing.
    Harry hesitated. “Your maid—”
    “She has gone to break her fast, and then will attend theCandlemas ceremony along with everyone else.” Except, it seemed, for Harry and me.
    A few minutes later we had tugged pillows off the bed and were ensconced on the floor next to the firebox. Its heat dispelled some of the chill, but not enough that we were willing to remove our cloaks or gloves. I allowed Braveheart to climb onto my lap, happy to absorb the warmth from his small, wriggling body.
    “What troubles you, Harry? Has the prince thrown you out? I cannot keep you here, you know.” I indicated the spaniel burrowing deep into my skirts. “I am allowed either a lapdog or a singing bird, but you are neither.”
    My teasing failed to cheer him. He sat tailor fashion, hunched over the brazier, elbows on knees and shoulders slumped. I had never seen him look so wretched.
    “Why is it so important that we speak in private?” Now that he had my full attention, he seemed loath to confide in me.
    “I did not want anyone to overhear what I have to say to you.”
    “Well?”
    “This is not easy for me, Jane.” He stared at the glowing coals.
    I narrowed my eyes. “You are not about to ask me to marry you, are you?”
    “By the saints, I swear I am not!” The shock of my suggestion jerked him upright. His eyes all but popped out of his head. “How came you by such a mad notion?”
    “From Lady Guildford.”
    “My mother thinks I want to wed you?”
    “Your mother thinks I might try to trap you into marriage.” I waved a dismissive hand. “What