Love Comes Unexpectedly

Picnic

Mary was in a foul mood. She had had a bad dream the night before, Elizabeth was teething again so of course was crankier than usual, and Mary had a painful splinter in one finger that she had so far been unsuccessful at extracting. George Boleyn hadn't even entered her mind so far, so she was pleasantly surprised when he suddenly appeared on horseback with a basket in one hand and a smile on his face.

"I thought it would be a lovely day for a picnic," he explained.

"Oh, of course..." She stood up so quickly that she knocked the chair she had been sitting in over, and he burst out laughing. She blushed furiously, turning her face away so that he wouldn't see.

She joined him on horseback, and they rode out to a clearing on the grounds of Hatfield, where they spread the quilt on the ground together and began to set out the food.

"Do you make a habit of this?" Mary asked.

"Of going picnicking with pretty girls? Why, all the time, of course!" He grinned.

Mary felt herself blushing furiously again, and this time there was no way to hide the fact.

"Do you really think I'm pretty?"

"You're more than just pretty, Mary. You're beautiful!"

She laughed. "I'll bet you say that to all the girls."

"No, only the beautiful ones."

"Have you known a lot of beautiful girls, George?"

"I've known a few."

Mary instinctively began to chew on the finger with the splinter.

"Is there something wrong with your finger?"

"Oh." Embarrassed, she snatched the finger from her mouth and sat on it. "It's got a splinter in it, and it really hurts."

"Let me see." He sounded very concerned. Reluctantly she showed him the finger. Deftly, he squeezed the splinter between the fingernails of two fingers and it came right out.

"That was amazing!" Mary really was impressed.

"I'm so glad I could be of assistance."

"I'm very grateful to you as well. It was causing me a lot of pain."

"Well, if there's one thing I simply can't abide, it's to see a beautiful girl in pain."

She giggled self-consciously, then grew very serious. "There are much worse pains than a splinter in one's finger."

An awkward silence followed.

"How's your mother?" George asked gently.

"He won't let me see her." Mary was near tears. "He believes that if we were allowed to be in contact that we would plot together against him."

"I'm so sorry, Mary. I don't believe that what he's doing is right, but I don't think there would be any use in bringing it up to him now, as I think that it would only make him angry. He's going through a lot of changes right now, as we all are, and he just needs some time to adjust. I really think that things are going to be all right, Mary. You just have to be patient."

"Things are never going to be all right until he returns to my mother and the true church," Mary said glumly.

"Tell me, what's she like? I've never met her."

"Why, she's the most wonderful mother anyone could ever hope to have. She's completely devoted to my father, and to God. That's why I simply can't see how my father could just casually toss her aside as he has."

"She must truly be a remarkable woman. I daresay there must be a lot of her in you."

"For me, there would be no higher honor than to be as much like my mother as possible." She thought of something. "What's your mother like, George?"

"She's a very gracious and kind lady. She was a lady-in-waiting to your grandmother Elizabeth of York, and later to your mother as well. She's very different from my father. All she's ever wanted out of life has been to care for her husband and children. I think you'd really like her if you met her."

"Are you very close to her then?"

"Anne and I both are. Mary less so as she disapproves of her marriage to William Stafford."

"If he makes her happy then she should give her blessing."

George smiled. "Just between you and me, I agree with you completely, Mary."

"I was always very close to my mother." Mary stared at the ground for a long time without saying anything more.

"I really hate to see you so sad, Mary," George said. "I truly wish that there were something I could do to help you."

Mary looked at him with mournful eyes. "Other than Eustace Chapuys, I have no one now. I'm all alone in the world."

George put his hand over hers. "That's not true anymore, Mary. You have me now as well."