The Last Boleyn(63)

Mary looked out across the stretch of green water and his eyes grew wary. She was almost tempted to let him guess. She knew she was a craven coward when it came to crossing her father. But he loved her and he needed her now that she was in the king’s goodwill. There was strength in that.

“I am not exactly ill, father. I am...” She gripped the carved rail in front of her. “I am with child, my lord.”

It had not been so frightening to say it. The green depths swirled into gray ones under the rail. She looked up through her lashes. The explosion did not come, but his face grew livid under his mustache and beard.

“Damn, I knew it had to happen. How long?”

“How long?”

“How long have you been pregnant, girl?”

“Around three months, I think. I was hoping I was wrong, but it is certain now.”

“Well, it had to happen. Judas Priest, why did it have to happen now? I had hopes when you went a whole year without catching it. Could it be His Grace’s child? Well?”

“I cannot figure it, father. Yes, it could be, but Will was at court that month, so how am I to be sure?” Tears came to her eyes again. Why must I cry so easily, she scolded herself angrily. What good did it ever do to cry in front of father?

“At least you have made it more than a year, and that is a good bit more than the Blount woman lasted.”

“Bessie Blount was not married, and I am, father.”

“Yes. I am pleased to see you have been reasoning out what we must do to protect our interests, Mary. Yes, she was not married, nor did she have a family or father to stand behind her as you do. We must protect the family at all costs. Do you understand?” He swung about, bending over the safety rail with his long arms leaning stiffly on the wood. He looked sideways at her “I said, do you understand, Mary?”

“Perhaps I do not. Perhaps you had best tell me what to think.” She could see it coming already, the gleam in his narrowed eyes. She felt strangely betrayed that Staff had been right when he had said her father would ask her to hide it from the king for his own ends.

“On or about New Year’s Eve, Mary, His Grace will make me Treasurer of the Household. As you may know, that position entails power as well as grants. The Bullen name has never risen so high as that, and we must protect that position. I have hopes that if I hold that favored position, His Grace will return you to court after you bear your child, and you may be able to ensnare his heart again. I can tell from the way he greeted me today that he does not know of your condition. Am I correct?”

She nodded, peering at the leaden reflections of clouds on the dull jade surface of the river.

“Then I would ask you to keep the news from the king until he makes the announcement of my new position. It should be soon. Thank God, we do not have to wait until the appointment is final in January, or we would never make it.”

“Do you not think, father,” she inquired sweetly, “that His Grace values your service so much that he would still appoint you whether or not I am handy to warm his bed?”

He grabbed her wrist in a vise-like grip and jerked her hard up to his velvet and silken chest. “Damn it, girl, I am depending on you to handle this properly. However much fine service I give His Grace you are the important link right now, and I do not appreciate the implication. Have you been about this clever court so long you forget who got you these honors in the first place?”

“No, father, I have not forgotten. Please. You are hurting me. I just get frightened and homesick sometimes.”

“For Hever?”

“Yes. For Hever. And for mother.”

“Well, you can stop that now, for the odds are good you will go home to bear the child since it will be more natural and will cost His Grace no extra coinage, as did the Blount wench.” He patted her drooping shoulder awkwardly. “I meant not to hurt you, Mary, and I realize you must feel afraid sometimes, for the stakes are high. But I am back to stay for a time now, and you can rely on me for support. I ask you to keep your secret only for a little while. The announcement of the advancement must come soon. You will help, will you not, my Mary?”

“Of course, father. I always have.”

“And do not be sad, Mary. Times are bad with France, so I intend to fetch Anne home on the excuse of George’s wedding. Then when His Grace calls you back to court after the child is born, you will have George, Anne, and Jane Rochford about to keep you company, as well as Carey and me. That will help.”

“Yes. It will be wonderful to have Anne home, but that Rochford girl can drive me to distraction at times.”

“Really? I think her a rather good soldier. She knows her place, and she is fond of you, Mary. I appreciate her. She often tells me what is going on. She will help to settle George down and help him forget that foolish Wyatt girl.”

Mary pressed her lips together tightly. He guided her up the path toward the tiltyards. “Let me see you without the cloak. Here, just hold your arms out.” He bent in front of her and peered at her waist and stomach as though she were a filly for sale. “Quite flat yet. We are in luck. No one has noticed, have they?”

“I would say I am much too small, father, for just anyone to notice.”

He squinted into the sunlight at her face. “Good. Then everything is settled. I imagine we can at least tell Will the news. Perhaps the Careys will rejoice at the prospect of an heir, and at least he will have the brains to hold his tongue until it is time for our next move. After all, you could be carrying the king’s son. There might be fine possibilities in the years to come.”