April 1509
“Long live the king! Long live
King Henry!”
Margaret wasn’t sure how to feel
about the death of Henry Tudor, who had committed the legalized murder of her
brother and defeated her uncle in battle. She certainly wouldn’t be shedding
any tears for the man who had turned her future upside-down when he walked away
from Bosworth as the victor. She had tried to find the good in him for
Elizabeth’s sake, but now they were both gone. Their son Henry, who looked so
much like his grandfather, King Edward, stood in his father’s place.
Henry was tall, handsome, and charismatic
- everything that his father had failed to be. He made people laugh, and they
felt special to be spoken to by the king himself. His red-gold hair gleamed in
the sun like a Plantagenet crown. But he was not truly a Plantagenet, Margaret
reminded herself. Whatever resemblance he had in appearance and personality
with Elizabeth’s father, Henry was a Tudor.
As he made his way toward
Margaret, she forced herself to think about Richard. He was the one gift that
the late king had given her that she could be thankful for. She still missed
him and caught glimpses of him in the way Geoffrey laughed and the curl of
Reginald’s hair. Before her thoughts ran away with her, she dropped into a deep
curtsey.
 |
| Henry VIII |
“Cousin!” Henry boomed. “Rise,
dear Margaret and give me a kiss!”
Margaret smiled in spite of
herself and grazed her lips against young Henry’s cheek. “You look very well,
your grace.”
He did. All of the women of
marrying age in the vicinity looked jealously at Margaret for gaining his
attention. The fact that she was his close relation and twice his age made
little difference.
“I pray that your reign will be
long and prosperous,” she added, curtseying again to indicate that he was free
to leave her for more interesting members of his audience.
“Thank you, Lady Pole. You can
be sure that I will be sharing my bounty with you and your family.”
Margaret opened her mouth to
inquire his meaning, but he had already moved on, closely followed by a herd of
sycophants hoping to profitably attach themselves to him.
It was true that she had struggled
in the years since Richard’s death, though she had refused to marry again in
order to ease the burden on herself. Her reluctance had only partially been due
to loyalty to the one she had loved. She had also been hesitant to inquire who
Henry Tudor would choose to pair her with a second time. It was safer to be
alone and focus on her children. Would this Henry choose to raise her up to a
status more suitable to her ancestry?
Her answer came within weeks.
Margaret was asked to come to court and wait upon her closest friend, Princess
Catherine, who was soon to become Henry’s queen.
