Read Online The Unfaithful Queen: A Novel of Henry VIII's Fifth Wife by Carolly Erickson - Free Book Online Page B

the duchess’s apartments where I was sitting and talking with Mary Sidford and my cousin Catherine Tylney. And he was approaching me, addressing me. Not the others.
    “May I serve you ladies now? Or shall we have a game of primero first?”
    “You presume on our leisure—and our desire for your company,” was cousin Catherine’s rather ungracious reply, almost a reprimand. Cousin Catherine was ill-humored, having never received an offer of marriage (despite possessing a sizeable dowry) and having just learned earlier that morning that Charyn had become betrothed to Lord Morley’s son Randall, which was a very good match indeed. Every time Cousin Catherine found out about another girl’s betrothal she became glum and out of sorts. Having reached the age of nearly thirty (she would not admit to any of us exactly how old she was, only her sister Malyn knew the truth, and she refused to divulge it), it was unlikely any man would ever offer for her hand.
    “You are too hasty, cousin,” I hastened to say. “Master Dereham is a delightful companion—and if he is not, his custard tarts certainly will be.” Francis Dereham and I exchanged a laugh.
    “With your permission, then,” he said as he waved two grooms forward into the room, bringing with them a small trestle table. In no time at all Master Dereham had whisked the tablecloth and napkins from the basket and put them deftly in place, set the candles in the candelabra, prepared our places and brought out the delicious-smelling food.
    “Ah,” Mary sighed as she savored the roast fowl. “This is lovely. A treat.”
    We fell to eating. The food was indeed delicious. Yet Master Dereham was not eating. He was looking at me. We sought each other’s eyes, and did not look away. His was a look that conveyed friendly invitation. Mine, I’m sure, conveyed frank admiration of his beauty and the grace of his movements. His soft skin. His lithe body. Everything about him.
    “We were talking earlier of our cousin Charyn’s betrothal, just announced today,” I said at length, wanting to fill the silence.
    “Yes,” he said. “Randall Morley. He is heir to his father’s lands and title. And until he inherits, he enjoys a substantial fortune. Most likely he will be appointed under-chamberer to the new queen, whoever she may be,” he added.
    “My father hopes for an appointment to the new queen’s household,” I remarked with a sigh. “Though he seldom manages to get what he hopes for.” I bit into a custard tart.
    “What a disloyal thing to say!” Cousin Catherine put in.
    “Not disloyal, I hope,” I responded wistfully, “only truthful. I love my father and wish he could have everything he wants.”
    Master Dereham smiled.
    “Very kind I’m sure. Not all children are as forgiving toward their parents, I’ve noticed.”
    “We rarely see our father,” Malyn said. “He is always off to the wars.”
    “Off somewhere, at any rate,” Catherine added. “Mother hardly ever knows where he is.”
    “And what of your mother and father, Master Dereham?” I wanted to know. “Clearly they have done well by you, to obtain a place for you in the duchess’s household.”
    I saw the faintest hint of a grimace cross his bow-shaped pink lips.
    “I was left without parents at a very young age, Mistress Catherine, and obtained my place by—”
    “By knowing several wealthy married ladies better than their husbands know them,” was Cousin Catherine’s unkind rejoinder.
    Master Dereham bristled, stood, and drew himself up to his full height.
    “Perhaps I have overstayed my welcome,” he said, and prepared to leave.
    “No, wait,” Mary pleaded. “I have not yet finished my sweet. Please stay.”
    “Yes, please stay,” I said and reached out to touch his sleeve.
    He looked down at my hand, then back at me.
    Cousin Catherine sniffed loudly, stood, and left us without another word. I drew Master Dereham back to the table. And in that moment I thought, he and I,