The Secret Bride by Diane Haeger

Author:Diane Haeger [Haeger, Diane]
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
ISBN: 1436208181
Publisher: Penguin Group
Published: 2008-01-01T08:00:00+00:00

The vast great hall, paneled in rich, heavily polished oak, was decorated for a celebration. Rose and ivy garlands were woven through the hammered gold chandeliers and, laced on the tabletops, candles made the gleaming silver platters, salt-cellars and goblets glow with a magical elegance. The room—and the gallery above where the royal musicians played—was strung with green and white Tudor silk banners bearing the emblem of Henry VIII in gold thread sewn above his motto, True Heart.

Mary’s stylish, elegant dress of white silk and red velvet rustled as she walked, with Jane, Lady Surrey and Lady Guildford, into the hall. She paused for just a calculated moment on the landing. Pearls and rubies glittered from a gold rope across her breastbone. As she always did when she first entered a room, she was searching for Charles. She could not still her heart for how much she wanted to see him after so long. So much had changed. Mary yearned to seem grown to him, a mature woman at last. Inside, she felt like a child for how nervous she was. Candlelight glinted in her long, shining hair unadorned tonight by a headdress, but just a circlet of matching rubies and pearls. Mary cared nothing now for his commitment, or her own. Her face lit when she finally saw him, with those still-shining eyes, longer hair and newly scruffy beard. And seeing him, she instantly forgave him everything—the women, the ambition, his other children and his sordid past.

Seeing Mary as well and without showing a moment of hesitation, Charles turned from Lady Monteagle and made his way steadily through the crowd toward her. As she came to the bottom step he met her there amid the commotion of other guests, music and laughter, rendering the moment wholly private.

“You look stunning,” he said in a soft, yet powerful voice.

She felt her mouth begin to tremble. What was it about this moment that made her want to weep? Stay calm, she told herself. Show him you have grown, that you are no longer a little girl.

“Congratulations on your victory in France.”

“It was His Highness’s victory.”

“You command his troops.”

“I was at his command.” He looked down at her, the smallest smile on his face beginning to break through the formality and tension of the moment. “But I did rather surprise myself, at that.”

“And did you despise all of the French as much as you thought you would?”

“There are a few with tolerably good form, like Mistress Popincourt,” he said with a little note of humor.

It was only then that Mary noticed the distinguished-looking man standing beside Charles. He was tall, slim and extremely elegant, his carriage as formal as if he were posing for a painting. He wore his silver hair brushed away from his face and long against the nape of his neck where it curled up just slightly. He had a neat little silver triangle of a beard on a perfectly shaped chin, and eyes that could be described only as glacial blue.

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