Read Online The Last Boleyn by Karen Harper - Free Book Online Page B

on shield and the solemn announcements of pursuivants clearly behind them.
    â€œYou, no doubt, miss the Dowager English Queen Marie whom you served before,” he chatted on. “At least she has returned to her homeland now. Did you know she had to bribe her brother, and stole some of her queen’s jewels to do it, and when she reached Calais to sail home she had to hide from an angry mob? The French royalty do not make such foolish marriage vows. She is fortunate the English
roi
forgave her.”
    â€œPlease, Rene,” Mary cut in, “say nothing unkind of her. I
do
miss her greatly. She was dear to me.”
    â€œAh, of course,
ma
Marie. And do you know when you blush you are exquisite? Your hair looks so golden, so adorable uncovered, and your eyes and face are that of a Diana,” he said, putting out his hand against a tall, trimmed privet hedge to stop her slow progress. “I have worshipped your beauty from across the room too long.” His voice broke.
    Now, she thought warily, this is a swiftly different tack. He has learned fancy court flattery well.
    â€œI thank you for your kindness, Monsieur Rene.” She hesitated on the brink of either fleeing or giggling as he moved the other hand slowly, tentatively to her narrow waist.
    â€œCould you not learn to address me as
mon Rene, cherie
?”
    Before she could step back or raise a halting hand to his chest, he dipped suddenly and crushed her lips with his. Her eyes widened in surprise, and she thought instantly that it was quite impossible to even fantasize that she could so intrigue a charming, dashing man like Francois with this whelp wrapped around her. She pushed hard against his chest, but he did not budge. Instead, he tightened his grip, pulling her full breasts against his narrow silken chest.
    She turned her head stiffly away and was surprised to hear the shrill pitch of her voice. “Rene, no,
si vous plait
!”
    She twisted away. They went slightly off balance and bounced against the sharp pricker hedge. She shrieked in fright and pain as he bent to kiss her throat and pulled jerkily at the low square decolletage of her dress.
    â€œMy precious Diana, I can do much for you here at court,” he was saying brokenly. He sounded quite breathless.
    He was from a powerful family. Perhaps her father would be angry if he ever heard she had offended a de Brosse. And that silly Jeanne would no doubt gossip and laugh.
    â€œNo, no,” she shouted, despite her fears as his long fingers plunged into her dress and brushed a taut nipple. Did he think her such an English simpleton as to lie with him here in broad daylight in the king’s gardens?
    â€œPardon, jeune monsieur,”
came a strange crackling voice, and a huge thin hand descended on Rene’s shoulder pressed close against her own now bare shoulder. Rene raised his head, his eyes wide, his mouth open. “The
demoiselle
does not wish your attentions now,
monsieur,
and it takes a wise warrior to know when to retreat,
s
?”
    Mary saw it was the old, white-haired artist from Italy whom King Francois so favored. Pray God, the king himself was not about to witness this shameful display.
    â€œSignor da Vinci,” Rene responded, taking his hands from Mary so suddenly that she almost tilted into the privet hedge again. The old man steadied her elbow, and she quickly shrugged her bare shoulder to pull up her dishevelled dress.
    â€œPerhaps midafternoon is a poor time for romance, especially in near view of the king’s tournament, eh? You are Monsieur de Brosse, are you not?”
    â€œ
Oui,
Signor da Vinci.” Rene looked suddenly like a huge whipped puppy. That he unhanded her so quickly and did not show anger at Monsieur da Vinci was no doubt because the whole court knew well how the king cultivated and honored the old man. It was said they often spent hours together just talking.
    â€œAnother time would be better then, Monsieur de Brosse.