THE GOLDEN TEMPTRESS
Chapter One: Lady In Disgrace
Lady Eleanor Luke was finished at court. Bawling her eyes out, the beautiful blonde packed her things, wishing she had never fallen into temptation in the king's royal bed. How could she go home a failure? How could she face her family? If only she could start all over . . .
"Wait just a minute, my lady," said a commanding voice. "Your eyes are red, and your face is all swollen and puffy."
"Who's there?" Eleanor's misery increased tenfold when she recognized the king's powerful Lord Chancellor, Thomas Cromwell. Unlike the well-born nobles of the court, the mysterious, darkly handsome commoner had never been invited to any of the decadent parties and banquets where poor foolish Eleanor first caught the king's eye. He was rumored to despise all women. And all the earthly pleasures.
"You must not leave the court looking miserable and forlorn." Cromwell produced a handkerchief and began blotting her tear-streaked face. "The thing to do is stiffen your spine, and show them you're not beaten. Damn the whole rotten pack!"
"Damn the whole rotten pack!" Eleanor looked up into the cold gray eyes of the austere Lord Chancellor, surprised to see that he was smiling back at her. Why was he being so kind? Imagining the answer made her blush with shame.
"No," the Lord Chancellor said quietly. "That's not what I want."
"B-but I don't understand! What do you want?"
"I want to send you to school."
"What do you mean? Girls don't go to school. If you mean a brothel . . ." Eleanor felt confused and dreadfully frightened. But those fiery words of moments ago came back to her. Damn Cromwell, damn them all! She stiffened her spine.
"Good, Lady Eleanor." His eyes seemed to search her soul. "Use that anger." Cromwell reached into his leather pouch, and gave her a tightly folded piece of parchment. "If you want to go home in disgrace, and marry some drunken dolt, simply throw this away. But if you have the courage to become something more, read and follow these instructions. A new life awaits you . . . if you have the courage."
"Master Secretary." Eleanor knew there was no use in sputtering an indignant refusal. Cromwell would merely mock her for her cowardice. Worse than that, he might pity her. So she put on a cold little smile, the kind one learned at court, and made a formal curtsey to the powerful statesman.
She promised herself that she would destroy the stupid scrap of parchment the moment she was out of his sight.
A/N: Did you know there is not one story on this board about Lady Eleanor Luke? Seduced by the king, humiliated by the queen, thrown out on her own like reeking garbage . . . it's time for golden-haired Lady Eleanor to have her revenge!