When Knighthood Was in Flower: or, the Love Story of Charles Brandon and Mary Tudor the King's Sister, and Happening in the Reign of His August Majesty King Henry the EighthMajor, Charles
History
When Knighthood Was in Flower: or, the Love Story of Charles Brandon and Mary Tudor the King's Sister, and Happening in the Reign of His August Majesty King Henry the Eighth
Major, Charles
Great Britain -- History -- Henry VIII, 1509-1547 -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Love stories; Mary, Queen, consort of Louis XII, King of France, 1496-1533 -- Fiction; Suffolk, Charles Brandon, Duke of, approximately 1484-1545 -- Fiction
"Well! I'll be"--but he did not say what he would "be." He always
halted before an oath, unless angry, which was seldom, but then
beware!--he had learned to swear in Flanders. "How she did fly at me
the other morning. I never was more surprised in all my life. For once
I was almost caught with my guard down, and did not know how to parry
the thrust. I mumbled over some sort of a lame retaliation and beat a
retreat. It was so unjust and uncalled-for that it made me angry; but
she was so gracious in her amends that I was almost glad it happened.
I like a woman who can be as savage as the very devil when it pleases
her; she usually has in store an assortment of possibilities for the
other extreme."
"She told me of your encounter," I returned, "but said she had come
off second best, and seemed to think her overthrow a huge joke."
"The man who learns to know what a woman thinks and feels will have a
great deal of valuable information," he replied; and then turned over
for sleep, greatly pleased that one woman thought as she did.
I was not sure he would be so highly flattered if he knew that he had
been invited to settle a wager, and to help Mary to a little sport.
As to the former, I had an interest there myself, although I dared not
settle the question by asking Brandon if he played cards and danced;
and, as to the matter of Mary's sport, I felt there was but little, if
any, danger of her having too much of it at his expense, Brandon being
well able to care for himself in that respect.
The next evening, at the appointed time, we wended our way, by an
unfrequented route, and presented ourselves, as secretly as possible,
at the drawing-room of the princess.
The door was opened by Lady Jane, and we met the two girls almost at
the threshold. I had told Brandon of the bantering conversation about
the title and estates of the late Duke of Suffolk, and he had laughed
over it in the best of humor. If quick to retaliate for an intentional
offense, he was not thin-skinned at a piece of pleasantry, and had
none of that stiff, sensitive dignity, so troublesome to one's self
and friends.
Now, Jane and Mary were always bantering me because I was short, and
inclined to be--in fact--round, but I did not care. It made them
laugh, and their laughing was so contagious it made me laugh, too, and
we all enjoyed it. I would give a pound sterling any time for a good
laugh; and that, I think, is why I have always been--round.
So, upon entering, I said:
"His grace, the Duke of Suffolk, ladies."
They each made a sweeping courtesy, with hand on breast, and gravely
saluted him:
"Your grace! good even'."
Brandon's bow was as deep and graceful, if that were possible, as
theirs, and when he moved on into the room it was with a little halt
in his step, and a big blowing out of the cheeks, in ludicrous
imitation of his late lamented predecessor, that sent the girls into
peals of soft laughter and put us all at our ease immediately.
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