The King's Grace by Anne Easter Smith

Author:Anne Easter Smith
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781439158371
Publisher: Simon and Schuster

AS A SQUIRE of the body, Tom was on duty in the viscount’s bedchamber that night, so he was able to speak to Grace for only a few minutes before he went to the other wing of the palace, where the Welleses were housed. He found her in the long gallery, admiring the wall hangings, and, whisking her aside, kissed her hungrily. When she was unresponsive, he pulled apart and whispered: “Dearest Grace, what is wrong? I have longed for this moment for all these months. Have I offended you—again?”

Grace felt a pang of remorse, but she was ready to speak her mind and wasted no time. “I was not aware that your devotion to Henry Tudor ran so deep,” she said scornfully. “It pained me to see you fall at his feet with such fervor, which told me how quickly you have forgotten your former friends and loyalties. You are wed to the daughter of a Yorkist king, who knows where her duty lies. I am disappointed; I thought I knew you better.”

Tom blanched and checked over his shoulder to make sure no one was listening. “Henry is the king, Grace. Would you rather I had refused to bow down to him publicly and risk my neck? Or does my neck mean nothing to you?” When he saw her stubborn expression, he grimaced. “I see that it does not. And I thought we had come to an understanding, you and I.” He took hold of her arm none too gently and bent close. “You are no longer at the abbey, Grace. You are in the real world, where one does what one can to survive. I will do what I must to protect what little advancement I have made and provide for you. I shall not go back on my promise to be a good husband to you, and if that means I kneel to my king and vow to serve him, I will do it. He, however, will never know what is in my heart.” He looked at her sadly. “And I thought I knew you better.”

Then he turned on his heel and walked away. Grace stared after him, her heart heavy. Ah, you are cruel, Grace. Why must you be so cruel? She well knew the answer; it lay over the sea in Flanders. A sob caught in her throat as she sank down onto a bench and whispered a prayer to St. Jude of lost causes.

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