No Will But His Read Free

the fool nor the wanton, and the thing about too little age is that you grow out of it. I will take Kathryn."
    Kathryn almost yelped then. What could the lady mean by taking her? But then she remembered that her new stepmother, Dame Margaret, had promised her oranges, and she stayed still. Her father had come to her side, standing between her and the great fireplace, which meant that his back must be roasting. He laid his warm hand upon her shoulder. "What an honor, Kathryn. Curtsey and thank the duchess!"
    Kathryn curtseyed automatically and heard her voice pipe up, "I thank you, Your Grace, most heartily."
    "Yes, yes," she said impatiently, even as she looked toward a distant side of the room and said, "Tell them to fetch me Mary Tilney, and quickly."
    Kathryn's father pulled her aside and toward the fireplace, and there, a little apart from the others, and from the lady who had walked away to sit upon a chair a little way off and survey her family with renewed distaste, he whispered, "Mind your manners, Kathryn. Remember to obey God above all else, and the duchess as you would God, and all will be well."
    Kathryn felt her hands clench into fists. "But the oranges—" she said.
    "Heh?" her father said.
    And at that moment a girl maybe Mary's age came in and curtseyed to the old lady, who told her, "Take my granddaughter Kathryn and show her to the maids' hall and put her in the way of being useful. She may share your bed."
    More quickly than Kathryn could think, the girl had her by the hand and was pulling her along.Kathryn never saw her father again. And she never did get the promised oranges.

Chapter Two
    Down the hallway, up a flight of stairs, into a long, spacious hall floored in yellow and black tiles, Mary Tilney turned around, half dancing as she did. "Kathryn!" she said. "Thou joinest us just in time to go to London for your cousin's coronation." She giggled a little as she skipped backward, nimbly. "Is that not grand? What luck. Perhaps, being Queen Anne's cousin thou wilt be able to get nearer the pageant or even—" she looked at Kathryn, a spark of curiosity in her eyes. "Maybe be in the pageant yourself?"
    Kathryn had no idea what Mary spoke of. She followed haltingly, frowning. She'd heard there was a new queen—or at least she thought that was what the adult conversation around her tended to. Not that anyone explained too clearly, but everyone spoke of Queen Anne and the old Queen Catherine. Kathryn had always felt a little sad for Queen Catherine, because they shared a name. But everyone around her seemed pleased by Queen Anne's rise, and Kathryn assumed they knew best.
    But the truth was that none of this had mattered much to Kathryn. Kings and queens and the court had seemed a very distant thing. More important was moving with Father from lodging to less expensive lodging, until Father had married Dame Margaret and they had moved to her house. Shortly after that—perhaps at the same time—Father had been named comptroller of the king's port of Calais and then Dame Margaret had got them clothes and sent them to see the duchess, and told Kathryn she was to behave and she would have oranges.
    In Kathryn's mind, it all muddled: The new queen and the change in her family circumstances; her father's new job, and this seemingly disastrous being left behind among strangers. Her hands closed on the stuff of her skirt, which felt much too fine and unaccustomed, and made her let go in one startled movement. "My . . . cousin?"
    "Lor!" Mary Tilney had turned away, but now turned back laughing, as they climbed stairs and entered yet another corridor, the beams overhead painted in blue and gold. "You mean you don't know!"
    "Queen Catherine?" Kathryn asked.
    Mary laughed. "Fancy you not knowing." She had a beauty mark on the corner of her mouth that waggled up and down with suppressed laughter, before she covered her mouth with her dainty hand. "Why! Queen Anne, of course! Her mother was a Howard, who married