Read Secrets of the Tudor Court Boxed Set for Free Online

had been taking prizes in tournaments for the last four years, ever since one held at Richmond Palace to celebrate the betrothal of Princess Margaret to the king of Scots. He was also the most handsome man at court. All the Lady Mary’s ladies thought so. Tall and broad shouldered, he had hair of such a dark red it sometimes looked black and eyes the color of agates.
    I was a little surprised that he knew me by name. My features were not sufficiently distinctive to make me stand out in a court filled with beautiful women. I could boast of nothing more than a trim figure, medium height, brown hair and eyes, a pale complexion, and a small, thin nose.
    Master Brandon wore livery—clothing of a particular dusky brown-orange called tawny that was decorated with a badge that featured a silver falcon crest. He was master of horse to the Earl of Essex, but his demeanor was not that of any man’s servant. His bearing betrayed a proud, independent spirit. I had heard that he was a man who liked to have his own way and I had no trouble believing it.
    “What brings you to this part of the palace, mistress?” he asked.
    “I wished for a better view of the storm.”
    “It is a fierce one.” The wind still howled and rain lashed the windows, although the thunder and lightning had passed on. “Iam told that in London the gale ripped the brass weathercock out of its socket atop the spire of St. Paul’s and blew it clear across the churchyard. It struck the sign over the door of an inn three hundred paces away and smashed it to bits.”
    “Some might call that an evil omen,” I murmured.
    “Do you believe in signs and portents?” He chuckled. “Then mayhap it is good luck that brought me here at this hour.”
    When he slipped his arm around my waist, I belatedly realized that the gleam in his eyes was desire. He had warm feelings toward me and was happy to have found me alone in this secluded place. I responded by sending him an encouraging smile.
    In common with every other young woman at the royal court, I had read the tales of chivalry and romance. Sometimes I daydreamed of being swept off my feet by a bold knight and carried off to his castle. I imagined marriage and children and a return to court when my “brother,” Prince Henry, took the throne as Henry VIII and had likewise wed. I saw myself taking charge of his nursery, for surely such a big, strapping lad would produce a goodly number of sons and daughters.
    Charles Brandon, I thought, might make a very suitable husband. He had no fortune yet, but he was a favorite of both King Henry VII and the Prince of Wales. Brandon seemed destined for a successful career at court. And so I did not protest when he lowered his head and kissed me.
    The experience was not what I had been expecting. He gave me a wet, sloppy kiss and seemed to be trying to slide his tongue into my mouth. I allowed this, out of curiosity, but I found it unpleasant when he began to press small, smacking kisses on my cheek and throat. Over his shoulder, I could see the river. When something on the surface of the water caught my eye, I stiffened and made a little sound of surprise and consternation.

    Brandon released me with unflattering speed. “Do you hear someone approaching?”
    I ignored his question, leaning closer to the window until my nose almost touched the expensive glass pane and my palms rested flat against the casement. A wherry was approaching the submerged water stairs. The fitful light of several lanterns on land and one aboard the tiny craft itself revealed a heroic struggle as the boatman attempted to make a landing.
    My breath caught as the boat’s single passenger stood up, waving his arms about. This made the boatman’s task even more difficult. One of the oars he’d been using to steer his small craft disappeared beneath the water. At any moment, I expected to see the passenger follow. It did not look as if the boat itself would stay afloat long enough to reach the safety of the