by Jean Plaidy
“There are matters which must be accepted without question,” said Lady Bryan. “One's faith for one, loyalty to the King for another.” Even at that stage, I was beginning to have doubts of sustaining either.
Lady Mary's mother, Katharine of Aragon, had died a few months before my own, and my sister was stricken with grief because they had been especially devoted to each other. Before her mother's death, Mary had not liked me at all. On the rare occasions when we had met, young as I was, I had sensed that my presence angered her. Now it was different. We had both lost our mothers; both had died outside the King's favor. We were both branded bastards. It was because of her uncertain position that Mary was not married, and it was strange for a King's daughter to reach the age of twenty without having a husband found for her. But now she was quite tender towards me and since I tried to please her, we were becoming friends. When one has no mother and one's father is a king whom one rarely sees, it is very pleasant to have a sister. I hoped Mary felt this too.
I was very sad when Mary left Hunsdon, but she was delighted to go, for Queen Jane had asked for her to go to Court. Much of this I learned later. Because of my extreme youth, I must have been very much in the dark at this time. It was when Katharine Champernowne came to be my governess that I made my discoveries through her. Katharine—I was soon calling her Kat—was the most indiscreet and delightful person I had ever known and I grew to love her dearly.
It appeared that the King could deny his new wife nothing; fair where my mother was dark, docile where she was vivacious, Queen Jane was the greatest possible contrast to Queen Anne for whom out of the white heat of his passion had grown a burning hatred. Moreover, Jane was almost immediately pregnant after her marriage, which took place, most shamefully, ten days after my mother's death by the sword.
Queen Jane, it seemed, asked the King if Mary could come to Court and be with her during her pregnancy.
“She shall come to thee, darling,” Kat told me he had said; and so gladly Mary went.
I missed her, but like everyone else, I wanted to hear of the birth of the child.
When Lady Bryan took me to her own private chamber, I knew I was going to learn something important. She put her arms around me and drew me close to her.
“The Queen has given birth to a son,” she said. “The King and the whole country are very happy.”
I felt my face go hard as it did when I was angry. Lady Bryan had told me of it many times. “A bad habit,” she said, “and one which can bring you no good.” I tried to curb it but on this occasion it was difficult, for how could I prevent the resentment that rose in me, when I heard another than my mother called the Queen? Moreover, this new Jane had given birth to a boy—the son I should have been.
“The bells are ringing all over the country,” said Lady Bryan. “The King is so happy. This little boy will one day be King though, God willing, not for a very long time. His Grace the King has sent word to Mr. Shelton and to me that you are to have the very special honor of carrying the chrisom at the christening. There! What do you think of that?”
I thought very well of it. At last I was going to Court.
How happy I was on that October day when I sailed along the river to Hampton Court, most sumptuously attired as befitted one who was to take part in such an important ceremony.
There lay the palace, majestically beautiful seen from the river. Small wonder that my father had said when it had belonged to Cardinal Wolsey that it was too fine a residence for a subject and had taken it for his own. I was enchanted by its enormous gatehouse, its privy gardens, its tennis courts, and its fireplaces, each of them large enough to roast an ox. It was in settings such as this that I belonged.
Copyright © 1973 by Jean Plaidy
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Published by Three Rivers Press, New York, New York.
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Originally published by Putnam, New York, in 1973
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Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Plaidy, Jean, 1906–1993
The thistle and the rose: a novel / Jean Plaidy.
1. Margaret, Queen, consort of James IV, King of Scotland, 1489–1541—Fiction. 2. Scotland—History—James IV, 1488–1513—Fiction. 3. Queens—Fiction. I. Title.
PR 6015.I3T455 2004
823'.914—dc21
2003050730
eISBN: 978-0-307-49828-1
v3.0