Three Maids for a Crown: A Novel of the Grey Sisters by Ella March Chase Page B

his strange mood. But my mother made the skin at the nape of my neck crawl. She raced forward and grasped Cousin Mary’s hands, pretending to be overjoyed.
    “So you have come to Bradgate, cousin!” my mother exclaimed. “How did you know I was pining for the sight of your face?”
    “And I yours.” The princess’s voice quavered just a little.
    She looked uncertain and even sadder than when last I had seen her. Her pale hazel eyes—overlarge and shortsighted—stared so fiercely, they made most people wish to step back from her in alarm. “I pray I am not inconveniencing you by arriving unexpectedly.” She gave a weak smile. “I found I could no longer keep away.”
    “You are most welcome, as always, cousin. Look, our own Mary is delighted to see you again.” My mother reached around and dragged me from behind her.
    The princess’s gaze found me and warmed. Her rosebud lips tipped into an expression I had never seen on my mother’s face despite the fact that she and Cousin Mary both had mouths exactly like the one Uncle Henry wore in the portrait in Bradgate’s gallery. The princess stooped in a rustle of sandalwood-scented petticoats and caressed the place where my lady mother had scratched. Lady Mary’s fingers felt overwarm but soft. “Greetings, my little friend. I see you have a new poppet since I visited last.”
    I clutched Jennet tighter in my arms, certain my lady mother would snatch the doll away, perhaps even thrust Jennet in the fire, as she had threatened to do last time I carried the poppet in company.
    “Daughter, let us not forget our manners,” my lady mother bade me. “Make your curtsy to the Lady Mary, and show your cousin your doll.” The joints in my knees felt rusted. I could not make them bend. Was this some kind of trick? I thrust Jennet behind my back.
    “Mary.” My father’s voice cut sharp edges. “Do as your lady mother bids you.”
    My cousin rushed to intervene. “Do not scold the child, Your Grace. We will look at your doll later, Mary. Will we not?”
    My mother jabbed me in the back, and I nodded, then dropped into an awkward curtsy. I knew my mother would have Hettie make me practice the curtsy until my joints swelled up. “Come and break your fast after your long journey, cousin,” my mother urged.
    “Yes, do,” Father said with a heartiness that sounded strained. “Then as soon as you are well fed, we shall have some fine sport in the deer park. It will be a pleasure to have the company of another lady who loves the hunt as much as my wife does! My master of the hounds spotted a magnificent stag while we were in London three weeks past.”
    “Yes, London,” the princess echoed, and I could see hurt in her eyes. “I had heard something of your stay there.”
    She was thinking of the weddings, I knew. My parents knew as well. My mother stiffened just a little, and my father’s eye twitched as he rushed to cover his blunder. “Few ladies sit a horse with the skill you do, Lady Mary, save Frances. Is that not so?”
    “It is,” Mother said. “But do give our cousin time to refresh herself before you sweep her off to your precious park. She must be very tired.”
    “I am. Tired and sick at heart and in need of my oldest friends. I have heard that His Majesty, my brother, is very ill. His Grace of Northumberland wrote to tell me that Edward’s doctors fear it will tire him too much to see me. But it causes me pain to stay away. Frances, you, of all people, know how much I love the boy. Remember when his mother died?” Lady Mary’s eyes misted. “Queen Jane Seymour, the kindest of stepmothers, who restored me to my father’s favor after all the evil Anne Boleyn did me.”
    Cousin Mary had once shown me the ring her father had given her to remind her of Queen Jane’s kindness to her and the importance of being obedient to one’s father. In Latin it said: Obedience leads to unity, unity to constancy and a quiet mind, and these are treasures of