Betrayal in the Tudor Court (50 page)

“Yes, the sandglass,” she breathed. “The sandglass that marks our every choice …”

“Hold on, Mirabella!” Grace cried from the foot of the bed. “The head is coming! Such dark hair! The baby is nearly here. Save your strength and push, darling!”

Mirabella bore down, clutching the hands of Cecily and Alec beside her.

“Push!” Dorothy and Grace cried at once.

Something slid from her. She could not see. She could not focus.

“A boy, Mirabella! You have a son, and a bluff, bonny boy is he!” Grace exclaimed as the child announced his presence with a lusty cry. She brought the child to Mirabella, laying him upon her chest without cleansing the birthing fluids and blood away just yet.

“We must name him, Mirabella,” Alec told her, his voice thick with awe. She felt his gaze upon her and the child she lacked the strength to hold.

He was born in truth, soaring above the deceit and betrayal that stalked Sumerton like a relentless … “Peregrine,” Mirabella said. “Peregrine Richard. Our little bird … our Falcon of Truth …”

“It is a good name,” Alec conceded as he took the baby to be cleansed.

“Yes,” Mirabella agreed.

I am waiting. …

Brey again. His eyes were no longer laden with disappointment. They were beckoning, appealing. Brey …

Forgive. … Let go. …

Her mother again.

Mirabella returned her gaze to Cecily and Alec, who stood on either side of her bed, the baby nestled close to Alec’s heart. Where he belonged, Mirabella reflected. Alec’s face was washed over with love as he beheld the little one. Somewhere she was aware of Dorothy and Grace discussing her condition. She felt again the cloth wiping clean her body.

With all her strength she reached out her quavering arms, taking Alec’s and Cecily’s warm hands in hers. His felt so strong, and Cecily’s … it was the hand of a great lady. She squeezed; joy surged through her as she felt them return it. Her eyes threatened to close.
Not yet! Please
… She brought their hands closer, closer together, till at last she joined them. Alec and Cecily gazed at each other, their faces a blend of exhaustion and surprise. Mirabella allowed her hands to slip from theirs as she fell back against the pillows. They did not disengage.

The words did not come from her. They were given to her, a gift from God or was it her own father?

“Forgive me,” she whispered as her gaze found Hal. He stood beside Brey and Sister Julia, reaching out his own hand toward her. Tears strangled Mirabella. “For
all
the wrongs, forgive me. Care for Falcon. Raise him in love, truth, and light. Teach him … teach him right and love him without condition, as I should have loved all of you,” she begged with all the strength she could summon. “Please, oh please, can you forgive me? Can you care for Falcon?”

“Yes,” Cecily answered without hesitation, reaching out to stroke her forehead. “I forgive you, my darling. And I will raise Falcon. I shall tell him all the good things that you are.”

Mirabella’s eyes searched Alec’s face; in it there was no hatred, no resentment. Nothing but compassion shone from his gentle hazel gaze.

“I forgive you, Mirabella,” he told her. “And I, too, will care for Falcon; I will love him well; he will be a son to bring you pride.”

Mirabella could not speak. It was done, all done. She could go; it was good and right to go. It was her last gift to her family, to Alec, that she leave them.

Mirabella smiled one last smile as a single tear trailed down her cheek.

And then … she let go.

I’d like to thank my agent, Elizabeth Pomada; I am so fortunate to have found not only a wonderful agent in her but also a dear friend. I could not have gotten through this process without my editor, John Scognamiglio, and his wonderful team at Kensington Publishing, especially Paula Reedy and Vida Engstrand. You have all been so encouraging and helpful; my appreciation for your hard work is deeper than I can ever express.

I would also like to thank Helen Bolton and her wonderful team at HarperCollins/Avon UK for the dedication and hard work they put into the British editions of my novels; they are just beautiful and I am so grateful.

To the authors, bloggers, and readers who have helped support my work and lift my spirits along the way, you are all indispensable to this process and I am so blessed to have you in my life—you know who you are! And I would not be able to have any confidence in anything I send out without my mother, Cindy Bogdan, who is always the first to screen my work scene by scene. Last but not least, my deep and heartfelt thanks to the love of my life, my husband, my best friend, and promoter extraordinaire—my Kim. All that you do and all that you are is appreciated more than you could ever know. You make my dreams come true.

Elton, G. R.
England Under the Tudors
. London and New York: Cambridge University Press, 1955.

Elton, G. R.
The Tudor Constitution
. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1960.

Gies, Joseph and Frances.
Life in a Medieval Castle
. New York: Harper Colophon, 1979.

MacCulloch, Diarmaid.
The Reformation: A History
. New York: Penguin Books, 2005.

MacCulloch, Diarmaid.
Thomas Cranmer
. New Haven and London: Yale University Press, 1996.

Power, Eileen.
Medieval English Nunneries
. Cambridge: Biblo & Tannen, 1922.

The suggested questions are included to enhance your
group’s reading of Darcey Bonnette’s
Betrayal in the Tudor Court
.

1. Did Lord Hal and Lady Grace love each other? Could their marriage have been saved?

2. What was the source of Hal’s guilt? Was it an automatic response based on his upbringing, or was it sincere?

3. By medieval standards, did Hal make the right choice in marrying Cecily?

4. Did Hal and Cecily love each other?

5. Why was Cecily drawn to Father Alec?

6. Was Mirabella truly driven to her calling as a woman of God, or was this an escape for her? If so, what was she escaping from?

7. What drew Mirabella to Father Alec?

8. Describe Mirabella’s relationship with Sister Julia. Did Sister Julia do right by her daughter?

9. Should Mirabella have chosen James? Would they have been happy?

10. What was the turning point for Mirabella that drove her beyond the edge of reason? Was there any point in the novel where she could have been “saved”? Was she a victim or a villain?

11. Did Father Alec make the right decisions throughout the novel? What decisions impacted him the most?

12. Lady Grace made some extreme choices throughout the novel. Were any of them justifiable?

13. Cecily and Mirabella’s relationship was complex. Was it founded in genuine closeness or obligation?

14. What was the Reformation about to Mirabella? What did it mean to Alec? To Cecily?

15. Who in this novel would you describe as being closest to God?

PROLOGUE

H
e is pulling my hair—it is going to be torn from my scalp, I am sure of it. I struggle and fight against him. The pains grip my womb. I cup my rounded belly with one hand and claw my husband’s wrist with the other.

“Let me go!” I cry. “Please! The baby is coming! You’re going to hurt the baby!”

He says nothing but continues to pull me off the bed by my hair. It hurts … oh, it hurts. To my horror I see the glint of his dagger as he removes it from its sheath. He lowers it in one wild gesture, striking my head near where he is pulling my hair. I am unsure of his aims. Is he going to chop my hair off? Is he going to chop
me
up?

“Stop …” I beg as he continues to drag me about the house in front of cold-eyed servants who do not interfere with his “discipline.”

At long last he drops me on the cold stone floor in front of my bedchamber. The pains are coming closer together. I am writhing in agony. The wound on my head is bleeding. Warm red liquid runs down my face into my eyes.

He walks away.

When his footfalls can no longer be heard a servant comes forward to help me to my bed. It is safe now, I suppose. The midwife, cowering in a corner, inches forward.

“What on God’s earth could you have done to warrant that man’s displeasure?” she asks in her country accent as she wipes clean my face and attends to the dagger wound.

I look at her in despair. “I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. “I never know.”

And this is how my child enters this world. I name her Mary, after the Blessed Virgin. Perhaps so named, God will show her more favor than He has condescended to show me.

1

T
hey tell me my father is a great man and I must be his pretty little lady. I must behave myself and stay clean. I wonder what it is to be a great man. I know that he is a favored servant of His Majesty King Henry VIII, and he is a very brave knight. I try to picture him. Is he tall? Is he handsome? I cannot remember. He is not home very much. I cling to my brother Henry’s hand and await my lord, who is to see us and comment on our progress. Our progress on what, I do not know. On being people, I suppose.