Scarlett's Secret

Chapter 17 - Alas my love

Three months had past and Edward is growing strong. Tyson speaks of all the prospect and ambitions our little miracle will succeed in. Maria and Elliot live here with us; she teaches him how to be a nobleman so maybe one day he will rise to great levels.

I now have two sons, Elliot and Edward, a husband, Tyson and a mother, Maria... my life feels complete; well almost.

I still think of Henry and the evening he bid farewell. Seeing his kindness and crumbling heart rise above his authority and desire touched me in ways he never had before. He discovered where we settled and sends us some coinage every month without his advisors knowing. Tyson believes he grants us this reward as a method to win me back, I know otherwise. I never told Tyson of the note he gave to me on the first parcel of money; I keep it close to my heart. It read:

"Dear Scarlett; my honey-sweet, darling Scarlett,

This shall be to inform you of the great sadness that I find here since your departing. The hallway towards your room doesn't ignite butterflies within me anymore. The flowers in the garden don't smile at me as they used to. My poetry doesn't fly off my tongue and into my ink as it should. I can only write about you. Wishing myself in my sweetheart's arms, whose pretty ducks I trust shortly to kiss.

For lack of time lead you into the arms that weren't mine, for I think it long since I kissed you. It's eleven of the clock and I am writing at this hour of the night sitting alone in my bed chamber, escaping the hustle and bustle of the kingdom once again. I have grieved over you; my pains are half released.

Though the gentleman that took you is not fitting for his lady, I comply with your desire, I willingly granted you. Keep the necklace I gave to you, it pleases me that you have some remembrance of me, for I will never forget you. Farewell my darling, but I leave with you some gold to release you from the worthlessness you believe you are. I also leave with you some poetry that I write for you for love enforce all noble kind, and disdain discourages all gentle minds.

O, my heart! It is so sore!
Since my Loves depart.
Alack, alack, what shall I do?
For care is cast into my heart,
And true love locked there to.

Whereto should I express
My inward heaviness?
No mirth can make me fain
Till that we meet again.

When I remember me
Of your most gentile mind,
It may in no way agree
That I should be unkind.

This rose was all my joy,
This rose was my delight;
This rose was my heart of gold,
And who but Lady Scarlett.

I have been ready at your hand,
To grant whatever you would crave;
I bought thee petticoats of the best,
The cloth so fine as might be;
I gave thee jewels for thy chest,
And all this cost I spent on thee.

Thy smock of silk, both fair and white,
With gold embroidered gorgeously;
Thy gown with sleeves of satin hanging by;
And yet thou wouldst not love me!

For every morning, when thou rose,
Thou could desire no earthly thing,
But still thou had it readily,
And yet thou wouldst not love me!

Alas, my love, you do me wrong,
To cast me off discourteously:
And I have loved you so long,
Delighting in your company!

Now unto my lady
Promise to her I make:
Departure is my chief pain,
I trust to soon regain.

To love and be not loved is worse than death. Your love made me bold, so farewell formally my rigid rose and enjoy thy gifts. All I have left of you are fading memories and the scent of lavender that still lingers within my sheets where we first made love.

Signed and written with the hand of Henry, who by your will, will forever hope to be yours."

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Hope you enjoyed my story :)

If you did, check out my new story "Mary of France", historical fiction based on the most beautiful woman of her time - Mary Tudor (King Henry VIII's little sister).