In The Shadow

– And what did he say? – Brigid asked.

– He was furious. But my father is in the King's favour, so Sir Tury had to swallow his resentment and accept my decision… Brigid? – Alienor looked worriedly into her friend's pale face and her wide-open violet eyes.

– I have to leave! – Brigid squeaked and wanted to leave her seat, but Alienor grabbed her by the wide, embroidered sleeve of her dress.

– Leave? It would be disrespectful to the King! What if he sees me?

– Tell him I felt sick… I'll explain it all to you later! – Brigid forcibly wrenched her sleeve from her friend's palm, ducked, backed up, freed herself from the crowd and hurried to the door.

Sir Guise, Brigid's father, guarded the door like a chain dog, hiding from Anne Boleyn's vengeful gaze. When he saw his daughter fleeing from the hall, he gave her a cold, murderous glare that gave her goosebumps, but he did not stop.

Alienor was so disturbed by her friend's sudden departure that she waited for the opportune moment when everyone would be seated at the table to follow and help Brigid. Hardly had she taken a step towards the door, however Lady Norton, who was suddenly at her daughter's side, took her gently but tenaciously under her arm and whispered in her ear: "Let her go. You don't wish the King to notice her and not you, do you? This is your chance to draw attention to yourself!"

Alienor sighed heavily, but her mother's fair words made her change her mind, and, together, the ladies made their way gracefully to the table.

Chapter 4

She knew her father had seen her, knew what he thought and how angry he was. But Brigid didn't care how long her father would humiliate and insult her for leaving the dining hall so suddenly; all she wanted to do was lock herself in her chambers, lie in bed, and cover herself with a blanket. She had done this when she was a little girl, when there was a thunderstorm, but this time the storm had caught her on a fine summer's day, and she had instinctively wished to hide herself away, to protect herself by voluntary seclusion.

Now Brigid knew who the accidental witnesses to her disgrace were. The lady and her husband on the back stairs. In the hall the girl recognised their voices, and her heart beat as fast as a rabbit fleeing from vicious hunting dogs.

Did the Queen recognise her? Perhaps. But she would hardly have admonished her, for she was so kind and sweet.

The King and Queen saw her covered in mud from head to toe. They laughed at her, good-naturedly, but still… Brigid did not want to accidentally catch His Majesty's eye and listen to his jokes about that unexpected meeting… She did not want to hear his voice at all: remembering how cruelly and insultingly he had spoken to his wife on the stairs, and how openly he humiliated her at his own court, the girl hated him, and it became unpleasant for her even to be in the same room with him. No, she could no longer bear the neglect and rudeness that Henry was so pleased to throw in the face of his legitimate wife, the Queen of England.

To watch the smug smiles of the Boleyns, whom Miss Guise had seen before when she had last visited her father and mother in London, in the days when he had been the king's counsellor, was beyond her. She remembered this power-hungry family, who by then had already managed to put another Boleyn, Anne's own sister Mary, in the royal bed under the lusty Henry. And, Brigid was sure, they would put all the girls of their family in his bed just to stay in power and influence the king. They were like pincers to him and would not give up their place. Miss Guise knew all the Boleyns by sight and hated them. Just like her father, to whom one single barb against Anne, who had captured the heart of a king bored with the flesh of another sister, had cost him his position, his career, his title, and his influence. Yes, Anne held Henry in check with her gentle hand like a mighty but foolish horse, and by her demands that he divorce Catherine of Aragon, slowly but surely poisoned the life of the latter… No, what luck that his father was banished from court! Brigid did not have to see the daily horror that the Queen's ladies in honour witnessed.

How fortunate that the Guises had been forgotten at court. Even though Brigid's father and mother were embittered by this and sought to return, the girl herself swore to herself that her foot will never again set foot where Catherine is offended, and where weave their dark intrigues Boleyn family.

When Brigid entered her chamber, she hurriedly took off her hood, lay down on her bed, and closed her eyes tiredly.

– Please, Heavenly Father, I beg you to free the Queen from her suffering! Give the king back his mind and turn him away from the sin of adultery! – The girl whispered fervently and kissed the small gold cross adorning her neck. She was seized by emotion, and she covered her face with her palms and wept silently. Her body was burning, she felt hot, but inside the girl was gripped by coldness.

– What do you think you're doing, you wretched girl? You are out of hand! Now go back to the hall and charm the king! – There was an almost animalistic growl that made Brigid flinch and open her eyes in fright.

Sir Guise had entered his daughter's room. He was furious, his eyes seemed to be shooting sparks. Walking over to the bed, he jerked his daughter onto her back and swung his big strong arm.

– Father… Don't hit me! Don't hit me! – wheezed the poor girl. From fear, heavy reflection, and hurt feelings, she had turned pale enough to make her tyrant father withhold his blow and squint his eyes suspiciously.

– Are you pretending to be ill? – Sir Guise asked incredulously. He did not want to believe that his daughter could be ill: not now when the King of England himself was sitting downstairs in the dining hall! She must be there, though dying, though half faint! The King must see her rare beauty and fall at her feet, forget the poisonous snake Anne Boleyn!

– I dare not pretend, sir… It is hard to breathe! – Brigid barely breathed out, and suddenly the hands with which she tried to cover herself from a possible blow from her father, fell limply on the bed, the pupils of her eyes rolled up, and her eyelids closed tightly.

– What's the matter with you, you filthy girl? – Sir Guise said with some fear, but more with anger, and, wishing to bring his daughter to her senses, he slapped her white cheek with his open palm.

The slap did the trick: Brigid slowly opened her eyes and breathed heavily.

– Have you taken ill? – Sir Guise patted his daughter's cheek a few more times, as if trying to bring back her blush. – Brigid, I command you…" But the sudden tears that escaped from the girl's eyes made him cringe. His eyes rounded: this was how he had lost his son. His heir.

Thomas Guise had died at the age of fifteen. His death was sudden, for no one had expected a tall, broad-shouldered, strong young man to leave this sinful earth within a couple of hours of going to bed. Hot, clammy skin, heavy, ragged breathing, pupils rolling under his eyelids… Thomas had been taken away by a fever that had come from nowhere, and now this deadly disease was planning to take away the Guises' daughter, their only child.

Brigid's father was horrified: no, he did not want to lose his daughter! Lord, don't take her away so soon! He vows never to abuse her again, but to cherish her as the good Virgin Mary cherished her Saviour Child! He will not bear the death of both his children! He cannot bear to see his children, the fruits of his life, disappear forever in the old family vault!

– My daughter…" Sir exhaled. His face turned as white as Brigid's. He seized the girl in his arms, pressed her tightly against him, and kissed her burning forehead. – Brigid! Stay with us! I could not save your brother, but I will not let death take you too! Lie down, my daughter… I will call your mother… She will know what to do! – Sir Guise gently laid his daughter back on the bed, kissed her sweat-damp hand with feeling, and ran out of the chambers like an arrow, calling loudly for the servants.