Page 16 of The Uprising
‘Well I don’t want that on my conscience,’ said George.
‘Nor me. We can’t risk taking any chances or the past as we know it would be completely rewritten.’
They spent the rest of the day pottering about the cottage and then took a leisurely late-afternoon stroll by the river until the calm blue sky filled with angry dark clouds, and Cara hugged her light cardigan around her as the northern winds whipped into a frenzy. The rain lashed down in heavy stair-rods and George reached for her hand as they raced for home.
In bed that night, Cara shoved lingering thoughts of George’s Tudorville mistress to one side and made passionate love to him.
‘Wow, what was that?’ said George, when they were curled up in each other’s arms. ‘I saw stars. Did I mention how hot you are?’
‘Perhaps once or twice. Seriously, though, we must not take each other for granted. It’s easy to grow complacent and forget what we went through to be together. Let’s not become one of those dreary couples who only make love on their anniversary, and barely exchange a word,’ she said.
‘That won’t happen,’ he said.
‘How can you be so sure?’
‘Because we’re Twin Flames, remember? We’ve been together for five hundred years. If we’re not fed up of each other by now, we’re never going to be,’ he replied.
‘Sometimes I forget.’
He kissed her forehead and pulled the covers over them and they snuggled deeper into the mattress. They drifted off into a blissful sleep, their warm feet touching.
At three in the morning, when all was silent in the winding, narrow lanes around the cottage, George shot up in bed, and shouted, ‘We must save Robert!’
Chapter 6
Hampton Court Palace, London, 1536 - Tudorville
A footman passed a note to Cara when she was on her way to the queen’s rooms. She spotted George’s handwriting, and hurriedly broke the seal and unfolded the paper, her hands shaking. She’d barely slept the previous night, worrying about what was going on in the north. Images of George, and his friend, Robert, flitted around her mind and she couldn’t settle.
She had a sixth sense where George was concerned, and it didn’t help that he’d been gone days and she’d not had any news; she feared she was becoming paranoid. Once the golden boy in the king’s eyes, Cara would never have doubted his safety, but she had lost faith in the king and fervently wished George was far removed from the latest political machinations.
George was tender hearted and would not ignore an opportunity to help his friend. Not that he had much choice as he had pointed out: when the king requested he take a trip, he didn’t dare make excuses or hesitate. His life depended on it.
Cara, my dearest darling, love,
Fret not. I am well, and it will please you to know that Swifty is at my side, making sure I am well taken care of. I have had a fruitful meeting with my friend, Robert, and am submitting his plea to the king, with the same messenger who delivers this note to you.
God willing, the Uprising will be resolved peacefully. Please pray the king will find it in his noble heart to meet the demands of the rebels, and this will all be over in the coming days. I will return to you as soon as I am able. Take care and know that you are always in my thoughts and forever in my heart.
Your devoted husband,
George.
Cara remembered the details she had researched about the Pilgrimage of Grace, and she knew it would all be coming to a head soon. She also knew that George would not wish to alarm her, and for that reason he would relay only positive news. She was relieved to hear from him but apprehensive about what he was holding back to protect her.
If only Edward were here, they could talk through the potential scenarios, and see whether they might in some way influence those involved in this precarious situation. Alone, she was confused and unsure what to do for the best. Was there anything she could or should do to help, or would she simply risk making things worse?
The weight of history unfolding before her eyes weighed heavily upon her conscience, and she felt woefully inadequate.
‘There you are, Lady Cara, I am in need of your calming presence,’ said Queen Jane.
Cara smiled and bowed her head. ‘Your Grace, how may I be of service?’
The queen linked her arm through Cara’s and said, ‘Let us take a turn around the gardens while the sun shines brightly this fine and crisp morning.’
‘Certainly, Your Majesty,’ said Cara, inclining her head. Their long, heavy skirts trailed behind them as they swept across the gleaming palace floor, like giant swans’ feathers shimmering on a shining lake.
The queen had recently declared that she enjoyed Cara and Margaret’s company most of all, and they had risen effortlessly to the position of her favourite ladies-in-waiting. They were in an enviable spot; all the lords wished their wives, daughters, and nieces to be instrumental in the queen’s rooms and sought to influence the king and queen through their kinswomen.
