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ambition, had been in thinking she
could oust the rightful Queen and take her place.  Her avarice had been
her downfall.
       
It was said that a swordsman had been sent from France to cut off her head, as a concession
to the love the King had once had for her.  If that was love, I could well
live without it.  I was very glad that I had disappointed the King and not
become his next great attraction.
       

CHAPTER
FOUR
     
       
I was seventeen before anyone remembered my existence again and for that I was
grateful.  I had spent those two years alone except for the servants, who
were paid under the terms of my late husband’s will, but they did not speak
unless spoken to and I had nothing to say.  I was certain that at least
one of them was stealing from me, but I did not have the courage to confront
her.
       
I had no one to talk to, but that was what I preferred.  I had my books
into which I could disappear, and even had there been anyone, I would not have
had anything to say.  What could someone like me say to anyone?  My
only experiences of life were not something I wanted to speak of.
       
I had become a recluse and rarely left the house.  The King’s marriage to
Jane Seymour had produced a much wanted heir and it was the celebration of the
prince’s birth that brought an invitation to court and it was not one I could
refuse.
       
I was very much afraid that now that I was older, I might once more attract the
King’s attention should I show myself at court, even though it was said that he
was much devoted to Queen Jane.  I had no male protector to accompany me,
either, which was not a normal state of affairs.  I had no idea if I was
supposed to go alone or bring one of the manservants with me.  My uncle could not be presented, as he was a commoner, but I
decided it was high time I paid him a visit anyway.
       
I had not seen him since my marriage to the Earl of Connaught and I had no wish to ever see him again, but for what I had in mind it was
necessary.
       
He looked up from his paperwork when a maidservant let me in to his private
rooms, but he could not even muster a smile for me.
       
“Rachel,” he said.  “Or should I say, Your Ladyship?  What are you
doing here?”
       
“I need money,” I replied at once.  I had no experience of building up to
things, of explaining myself or making small talk.  “I want to take the
veil and there are no institutions left in England.  I want to go to France, but I
do not have the funds.”
       
He frowned at me for a moment then shrugged.
       
“No,” he said.
       
I was taken aback.  I know not why I expected him to simply hand over the
necessary funds, but it seemed that it would be to his advantage as well as
mine. Sealed up behind convent walls, he would have no further need to think
about me at all. I had not anticipated an argument.
       
“Why?  You have no need of me.  What difference does it make to you?”
       
“You have your husband’s pension and his house.  If you
leave, you will lose that and when you decide to return there will be nowhere
for you to go.”
        “Return?   Why would I want to return?”
       
“You are young,” he replied.  “You have no idea to what you are committing
yourself.  You will find another husband.”
       
I was shaking my head, the idea sending a shudder through me.
       
“No!”  I cried, raising my voice a little in panic.  It occurred to
me then for the first time that my uncle might take this request as an
invitation to find me another husband, but I hoped I was wrong.  He had no
access to the court, but that had not stopped him before.  “I have no wish
to remarry, Uncle.  I only want to take the veil, to be somewhere quiet
where I am not obliged to be with any man.”
       
“The idea of all that beauty shut away behind convent walls is barbaric,” he
said.  “I am your guardian and I will not allow it.”
       
“You