Free The Secret Bride by Diane Haeger Page A

generally most wanted the things he could not have.
    Strangely, though he could have had any girl at court, Henry seemed far more interested in securing a wife than a paramour.
    “Father is unwell.”
    “And you are the very picture of strength and health.”
    “The old die away as the young come to full bloom. Just like you, sweet sister. Just look at the beauty you have become already,” he declared with a strangely easy smile, touching her cheek with a long finger that bore a gold and ruby ring that had once belonged to Henry V, famous for the battle of Agincourt.
    “There are grand things in store for the two of us, Mary.”
    “You shall be king and I shall be chattel,” Mary said with a sudden frown.
    Henry laughed in that robust way, deep and full of spirit, that she loved. “Ah, no. When it is my turn, I suspect I shall make you a queen.”
    “You told me once you would keep me here with you.  Name a great ship after me.”
    “That was a childhood fantasy. Surely you knew that. But there will still be a ship. And perhaps some wonderful king to give you to.”
    “I am betrothed to the Prince of Castile and you well know it,” Mary shot back, angry that her brother should toy with her in that way when she had no control over anything in her life, yet the world would one day belong to him. 
    “The only thing constant, my Mary, is change.”
    They walked a bit farther, out past the octagonal wooden pavilion and the little lane of fruit trees, pear and cherry, beyond. But they were close enough still to hear the lute player who had begun to strum a tune for the others back beside the splashing stone fountain.
    “I need you to show me a kindness.”
    “Anything,” Mary replied.
    “Do you have a dress with which you could part? One of those exceptionally pretty new ones I have seen you wearing here at Richmond?”
    She glanced at Katherine, surrounded by her sober-looking group of Spanish attendants, and knew that what she had thought before was true. The once elegant green silk dress she wore now almost daily, lined with brocade and ornamented with exquisite dark Spanish lace, had become noticeably frayed at the hem and sleeves, and the bodice was increasingly threadbare. It looked oddly out of place on so regal and proud a girl as Katherine. Still, her thick waves of black hair were done up meticulously away from her soft rounded face by Dona Elvira, as if Katherine were Queen of Spain. Thinking about what she was being forced to endure because of her own father, Mary felt angry, and defiant. Like Henry, she wanted to do anything to help her, and keep Katherine with them.
    “Which would become her most?” she asked her brother.
    “You have but to choose. Anything I have is hers.”
    A smile broadened his face and she saw that happy, carefree Henry reemerge, the one she adored. “I owe you a great deal, my Mary.”
    “You do at that! But one day I shall find a way for you to repay me,” she said, smiling in response. Of course she had agreed out of devotion to them both, and she did not mean he actually owed her anything. At least not then.

    Two days later, Mary watched Jane burst out of the maze suddenly, as though someone had pushed her. Jane was out of breath, her pale hair wispy and springing out in random places from her small French hood. In the shallow silver of afternoon light, Mary was close enough to see that Jane’s nose and cheeks were flushed pink, her delicate lips were chapped, and she was smoothing out her skirts.
    Mary had been walking with Lady Guildford out near the pond, and past the stone urns newly filled with bright pansies and forget-me-nots on a day that was cooler than the others. Not seeing them, Jane paused. When Mary took a step toward her, prepared to speak, Lady Guildford clutched her arm firmly, drawing her back.
    An instant later, Henry emerged from the maze. He paused as Jane had done, but for only an instant. He glanced both ways, and then went on in the opposite