But she was not. She would rather have had him at her side as an attainted traitor, with her in the drudgery of the day and in the warm silence of the night; anything rather than ennobled as the handsome favourite at another woman’s court. She knew from this that she was a jealous wife; and jealousy was a sin in the eyes of God.
She put her head down and trudged on to the meadows where the cows grazed on the thin grass, churning up sepia earth and flints beneath their clumsy hooves.
— How could we end up like this? — she whispered to the stormy sky piling up a brooding castle of clouds over Norfolk. — Since I love him so much, and since he loves me? Since there is no-one for us but each other? How could he leave me to struggle here, and dash off to her? How could it start so well, in such wealth and glory as it did, and end in hardship and loneliness like this? —
To find out more about these and other stunning novels from Philippa Gregory log onto www.harpercollins.co.uk. |
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