“Anne, you sound so heartless! You have become a real flirt. You have been about Francoise du Foix too long.”
“At least I came back a virgin from France, Mary, though Francois du Roi was beginning to give me those soulful, dark-eyed stares when Father called me home.” She giggled. “Besides,” she added when she saw her older sister’s hurt expression at the reprimand, “Francoise du Foix is quite out of favor and has been these last six months. Anne du Heilly is the light of the king’s life now. She is blonde and blue-eyed like you and was quite an innocent when du Roi first noticed her.”
“You have changed, Anne. You are much older than your years. Soon you must think seriously of marriage and of motherhood.”
“I hope not immediately. Some perfectly proper marriage father arranged would probably bore me, and I do not care if I never give birth.” Almost unconsciously, her slim hands went to her flat stomach. “I shall never be another Claude or even, like mother, to have the heirs and be shifted off. Will you not just die, Mary, if you are not summoned back to court—after?”
“Will has some lands now and a manorhouse I have never seen. Besides, Father says I shall be called back. My husband serves the king, so we must live at court.”
“You are the one talking like an innocent, Mary. Father says he can only hope you will be returned to court. And I am sure Esquires to the Body can be changed. But I would so like us all to be together at court especially with George. George needs consolation and diversion. He always did favor Margot Wyatt and now he has had to wed with that chatterbox Rochford. Father had best not try to arrange such a marriage for me, though I would consider it if it would mean I could live at court.”
Mary shifted her bulk and felt the child kick as hard as he had these last few months. The little fellow kicked and punched at her insides so hard sometimes that even Will could see the movement. At first it had frightened her that someone else had taken control of her body, but then it delighted her. Now it filled her heart with foreboding of the hours of pain to come. And Will was still kept at court. At least he should be here when the Carey heir was born.
“What did you say, Anne? He is moving, see?”
“Yes. Well, I was saying I wish you would tell me all about the king from your point of view. I am certain it would be more exciting than hearing it all from father’s lectures.”
“I shall, Anne. I promise, for I wish someone would have told me the truth before I got involved in it all. There was only one who told me much about it, and I was too stubborn to listen to him.”
“Who? Will?”
“No, not Will. A friend of Will’s, William Stafford. He was an aide to father in France. Do you remember him?”
“Vaguely. Tall and brown-haired with that roguish look?”
“Yes. That is Staff.” His face drifted through her mind as it often did, no longer jesting and taunting, but concerned and warm. She had not seen him for almost five months. Too often she found herself wondering if he still cared for her and would watch her from across the room and kiss her fondly on the cheek as he had when Will had taken her to Hever so long ago to await the child. You are really quite a fool, Mary, she told herself firmly. He is probably reveling in Lady Fitzgerald’s bed or even that clinging Anne Basset’s, and hardly giving his friend’s pregnant wife a moment’s thought.
“Why are we speaking of William Stafford anyway? I would like you to tell me about some important, exciting people, please. Personal things, not political things, like father always does.”
“I promise I will, Anne, but I am very tired now and just want to sit awhile before mother makes me go back to bed. The gardens at Hever are so restful. I can almost pretend nothing outside even exists.”
Anne’s eyes grew wide with sudden knowledge. “Are you afraid, Mary? You mustn’t be, you know. You are young and strong and everything will be well.”
“Thank you, Anne. Those sweet words mean much to me just now.”
“I meant not to tire you. Shall I fetch mother? She always knows what to say and do.”
“Yes, please, but do not hurry. I would like to be alone for a moment.”
“Semmonet said you are not to be alone.”
“Just walk slowly then, and that will take a little time. I will not be really alone.”
“All right. And we shall talk of the court and king tomorrow.” Anne bent her lithe body and scooped her embroidery from the grass. She swept down the gravel path, her head held high as always.