The Lady in the Tower by Marie-Louise Jensen Page B

as young as I, but was she beautiful? I thought perhaps she was, in a strong-featured way that I did not admire.
    ‘I do not want the king’s notice,’ I said shortly.
    ‘Oh, I doubt you need fear greatly,’ she sneered. ‘I hear he is much taken with one of the young Howard girls. Catherine, I think she’s called.’
    ‘But he’s not divorced yet.’
    Maria regarded me coldly. ‘My, what a child you are, Eleanor.’ Then obviously feeling she had been too harsh, she slipped her arm through mine, gave it a squeeze and smiled. ‘He is the king. He can choose another wife, or take mistresses as he pleases.’
    I shuddered at the thought.
    The banquet that night was splendid in its extravagance. There were tables all the way round the hall and every seat was full. There were deer roasted on a spit, swans and peacocks dressed again in their splendid plumage. A sucking pig roasted whole in the kitchens, and carried in on a huge tray decorated with fruit. I had never seen such a selection of pies and pastries and the array of sweetmeats and fruits made my mouth water.
    The king presided over all this, one leg laid tenderly upon a footstool, eating steadily. He ate for over an hour. When at last he sighed and pushed his plate away, everyone in the great hall stopped eating at once. I regretfully relinquished the dish of sweetmeats, from which I had been about to select another marchpane confection, to one of the many servants who hurried forward to clear the tables. Never mind, I comforted myself. I could always visit Betsey in the kitchen on the morrow.
    Dishes were cleared from the top tables. At the lower tables, where the guests had made do with trenchers instead of plates, crusts and bones were thrown to the dogs. An unlucky servant tripped and fell while removing the king’s dishes. There was a huge crash that caused a sudden hush in conversation at the top of the hall. The incident would have been soon forgotten but for my father’s conduct. He leapt to his feet and began beating the unfortunate man with a tall wooden candlestick he had snatched from the table.
    ‘You clumsy oaf!’ he screamed. ‘What do you think you are doing causing such a commotion before His Majesty?’
    The man cried out apologies, but he was ignored. Sir Walter continued to strike him and berate him at the top of his voice.
    ‘Lord Hungerford,’ rumbled the king into the shocked silence. His voice brought my father up short. He looked around him, as though dazed, and let the candlestick fall.
    ‘Your Majesty,’ he said with a deep bow. ‘I could not watch the clumsy fool insult you so without becoming enraged.’
    ‘It is well,’ nodded the king, and waved dismissal to the servant, who fled at once.
    The king invited my father to sit beside him, and engaged him in conversation. I watched them for a moment, Sir Walter inclining his head respectfully.
    It had been a dangerous moment, but it had passed. I wondered yet again whether my father really was insane. I blushed at what the other guests must think.
    Gradually the noise of conversation increased once more, until there was a lively buzz around the hall. The guests appeared to have put the incident out of their minds for the time being.
    Sir Walter rose to his feet and hammered on the table. My heart jumped into my mouth, but he seemed quite controlled again.
    ‘My lords, ladies, and gentlemen,’ called Sir Walter. ‘In a few moments a play will be performed for His Majesty’s entertainment. But first of all, His Majesty has graciously agreed to bestow his approval on the formal betrothal of my daughter, Eleanor.’
    My knees turned to water. No, please, no, not here in front of all these people. Not in front of the king.
    I became aware of an excited whispering in the background. Sir Walter had paused, no doubt for dramatic effect. He was looking around at his guests, obviously enjoying being the centre of attention. Maria prodded me in the side.
    ‘Go on,’ she hissed in