Free Secrets of the Tudor Court Boxed Set by Kate Emerson Page A

she believes is of little importance so long as you and I know better. But if that is not why you wished to talk to me, then what is it that troubles you, Harry?”
    “Not my mother, but my father.” Heaving a great sigh, hereached inside both cloak and gown to fumble at his doublet. At length he produced a piece of paper folded in thirds and handed it over. “Read this. Then you will understand.”
    “It is from Sir Richard to you.” I hesitated to peruse the private words written by a father to his son, in part because Harry and I had never spoken openly of his father’s disgrace.
    Sir Richard Guildford’s letter stated that he wished to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. He wrote that he had a great sin on his conscience he hoped to have absolved through this penance. This notion troubled me not at all until I realized that Sir Richard wanted Harry to go with him. Suddenly, I felt a giant fist clench around my heart at the thought of losing yet another person I cared for. I could barely find breath to speak. Wordlessly, I returned the missive.
    Harry tucked it away inside his doublet. “I do not know what to do, Jane. It would be a great adventure to travel to foreign lands.”
    “If you desire to visit shrines, there are plenty right here in England. Surely you do not want to go on a pilgrimage?”
    He gave a rueful laugh. “Can you not see me in a pilgrim’s cloak?”
    “I cannot imagine that you would want to give up the pleasures of the prince’s household. All your life, you have been trained as a courtier.”
    “My father was once accustomed to those same luxuries.”
    “Perhaps your father has reason to seek forgiveness!”
    “You think his mismanagement of crown funds is the ‘great sin’ he refers to in his letter?” Harry did not seem convinced.
    “What else could it be? But whatever sin it is that he carries upon his conscience, you have nothing to atone for. If he wants his own flesh and blood with him on this journey, let him take Edward.” Harry’s brother was the son of Sir Richard’s first wife and fifteen years Harry’s senior. “You cannot go to the Holy Land.”

    “Because you say so?” Harry gave a short, humorless bark of laughter. “Careful, Jane, or I will think you do have designs on me after all.”
    I stuck my tongue out at him as I shifted position on my cushion. Roused from a nap, the little dog yawned, stretched, and abandoned me for a spot on the truckle bed.
    Harry sighed again and seemed to fall into melancholy.
    Clasping my knees to my chest, I buried my face in my arms, pulling the cloak more tightly closed around me on the pretext of being cold. In truth, confusion enveloped me, relentless as an incoming tide. Our childhood was over, but the old bonds were strong. I yearned to keep Harry at court but knew not how.
    The silence between us stretched until it was pulled taut as a bowstring. At last Harry stirred and spoke. “I am bound to serve the prince, but my father is…my father.”
    “The first loyalty is stronger than the second,” I said slowly, thinking the matter through as I spoke, “for your father, in his turn, serves the Crown.” As I obeyed the Lady Mary, Harry was Prince Henry’s to command. I added, carefully, “The Prince of Wales depends upon you, Harry. He listens to you.”
    “He has others to—”
    My head shot up. “He needs you, Harry! You have known him almost longer than anyone. When he loses his temper, everyone relies upon you to calm him down.”
    “What of Will Compton?”
    “Oh, yes. Will can also restore Prince Henry to his better self, but it takes him twice as long.”
    “Do you ever wonder what he will be like when he becomes king?” Harry asked, his face pinched with worry. “You know Prince Henry lacks his father’s self-control.”
    Snaking one hand out from beneath my cloak, I reached acrossthe brazier to touch Harry’s forearm. “As long as he gets his own way, or thinks he has, all will be well,” I