Bessie's gown twirled delicately as King Francis lead her through the steps of the dance. Francis's eyes danced just as merrily as his body did, as he surveyed every detail of Bessie's appearance. In Bessie's mind, she wanted nothing more than to get some air; the ballroom was stifling, with hundreds of bodies from the English and French royal courts dancing, drinking and making merry. She also wanted to find Anne, who had been strangely absent with Thomas Boleyn for the majority of the night.
"How is it possible you grow more beautiful every time I dance with you, Bessie?"
The King of France's soft voice snapped her attention back to him.
"You flatter me, my Lord," she said smiling politely.
"Nay, I truly have not noticed that you have bloomed into a woman over the last few months."
Bessie felt her cheeks grow pink and cursed her softness and embarrassment. Attention from two of the greatest rulers in Christendom had broken down the tough walls she had built with Anne. She was certain, however, that Francis was flirting with her to slight King Henry.
"Perhaps, my Lord, you have been too busy to notice," she teased, hinting at his fling with Mary Boleyn.
Francis laughed heartily.
"I confess, my attentions have been taken up by various matters. But all that matters at this moment is the woman who stands before me now," he replied smoothly.
The next part of the dance required the male to pick his partner up and twirl her around in the air. Francis gripped Bessie's waist tightly as they completed the dance move. Eye contact unwavering, he slowly lowered her to the ground, but kept her far closer to his body than was required.
The room erupted in applause as the various couples completed the dance. The musicians started a lively tune, signalling a new dance was beginning to start.
Francis, however, kept his hands on Bessie's waist and held her close. She could sense many sets of eyes upon her and felt a wide range of emotions sweep through her. On the one hand, she knew the King was using her, and she felt stupid to be fooled by his charm. On the other, she was flattered, and felt a fluttering in her heart that a King was interested in her.
Leaning closer, Francis whispered her in her ear, so no one else could hear his words.
"I know you feel a spark between us."
Bessie breathed deeply, for it was the truth. She looked up into his eyes.
"Will you join me in my private rooms later tonight?" he asked, still excruciatingly close to her.
"….I-," she started, but a bold voice cut her off.
"Ah! There you are Bess, I have been looking everywhere for you!" Anne said, then confidently turned to the King. "I apologise your Majesty, but I must speak to the Lady Elizabeth in a matter of urgency."
Bessie looked between Francis and Anne. He just about kept his irritation at being interrupted masked on his face, and politely said "Of course, lady Anne, though I hope you will return her to me later."
He turned to Bessie. "Remember our conversation."
He inclined his head to the two women and wandered away to his throne. Once he was out of earshot, Anne turned to Bessie.
"What in God's name have you being doing for the last hour?!" she exclaimed, "I leave you for only a short while for you to have two kings drooling all over you like lost puppies."
Bessie was still slightly dazed after her encounter with the King of France.
"I truly do not know, Anne, they both accosted me one after the other."
Anne scrutinised her cousin and closest friend carefully.
"What did Francis say to you? He was practically eating you with his eyes, and you look like a frightened lamb," she asked, taking in Bessie's flushed complexion.
Bessie blanched. "Oh God, did Queen Claude see? My father?"
"Yes," Anne replied simply, "Now, what did he ask you?"
"He asked me to join him in his private rooms later."
Anne's eyes widened. "So it is true he has tired of my sister then. What did you say?"
"Well I was about to reply when you made your grand entrance," Bessie smiled
"And?"
"I know I do not want to be his mistress. But-"
"But?!" Anne exclaimed. "have you seen what he has done to Mary, Bess? Her reputation is ruined, and she is the talk of the French and English courts."
"I know that, I just felt-"
"What?!"
Bessie felt her face grow hot again and saw Anne notice.
"You desired him, didn't you?" Anne asked simply.
Anne could read Bessie like a book. She always had been able to. Sometimes Bessie loved Anne's straightforward nature, other times she cursed it. Right now, she was cursing it.
"Perhaps. No. Maybe. I do not know what happened to me, I just felt odd," Bessie said, flustered. "It's been an eventful evening."
"That it has been," Anne replied, though her attention was now on her sister, who was being discreetly led away by the King of England on the other side of the room. "It seems Mary wants to bag her second King of the month."
Anne turned back to Bessie, looking concerned. "I am just looking out for you Bess, god you are more of a sister to me than Mary."
Bessie smiled, "I know that Anne, thank you. I just need some air outside to collect myself, I cannot breathe in this room." She touched Anne's arm lightly in goodbye, then gathered her skirts in her hands and left her friend in the intense throng of nobles and royalty.
…..
It was a crisp, cool night; one where you can see the stars for miles and miles. Bessie was observing the stars as she stood alone in an enclosed garden, which had been especially crafted for the pleasure of the two kings.
Taking in deep breaths of the crisp air, Bessie allowed herself to think. She truly had felt desire for the King of France, lust perhaps, but also remembered Anne's words carefully. Of course she would not go to his rooms tonight. She would be a fool to ruin her reputation and honour.
Reaching behind her back, she tried to loosen her corset strings. She felt completely restricted by them, and wished she had someone to help her. Cursing to herself softly, she was just about managing to untie the back when she heard a twig snap behind her. She tried to pull up the shoulder of her gown that had loosened to no avail.
"Do you need assistance, my lady?" a strong voice said.
Bessie cursed herself again, this time in her head, she slowly turned to face the voice.
A young man, perhaps about 20 years of age, stood looking at her with a small, teasing smile upon his face. He had dark blonde hair, almost brown, but deep eyes that she could not quite tell the colour of. He was tall, and obviously some form of English nobility, given his rich clothes.
Bessie cleared her throat. "I am quite well, thank you, sir," she replied. She could feel her gown slipping off her shoulders and pulled it quickly back up.
"It just seems you are having a bit of a problem, that is all my lady. Were you really undressing in a garden?" he asked. Eyes twinkling, he glanced at her half-bare shoulder with a smirk.
"I-" Bessie started then stopped. She was startled at his boldness, but it was no use denying that it looked like she was stripping off her gown. "I was just loosening my corset; I could not breathe."
"I see," he said, sounding unconvinced, and still looking at her teasingly.
Bessie felt her irritation flare.
"And what are you doing here then? Looking for damsels in distress? Carrying out a night tryst?"
"Neither, my lady. I was merely taking a stroll until I stumbled across a lovely woman struggling to take off her gown."
Bessie rolled her eyes. "It seems you do not believe me. Men truly do not understand how painful these dresses can be."
"Oh, I do believe you."
"Then why are you teasing me so?" she asked.
"It is most enjoyable," he said, gazing intently at her face.
Bessie scoffed and pulled the shoulder of her gown up again. She needed to fix her gown and get away fast, before someone stumbled across them in the garden, and formed the wrong idea.
"I need to fix my gown," she said, gesturing at him to turn away. "Perhaps if you left me this would be much easier?"
He laughed, again looking at her gown, but did not reply. His expression was infuriating, as if he knew that he was in a much superior position to her in that moment.
Bessie's irritation continued to grow as she turned from him slightly and had an attempt at fixing her corset strings. It was no use, of course, these dresses were well-known to be impossible to tighten without another pair of hands.
She could not return to the ballroom like this. Desperation rising, she glanced at him again.
"Would you mind-" she gestured at her back. God, what had this night come to, she thought.
He continued to appraise her with that infuriating expression, "I would be happy to help, my lady, but as a gentleman, I could not possibly do so without your express permission."
Bessie rolled her eyes at his smirk. "Then leave me be, then."
"Just ask me," he said.
At that moment, Bessie knew she should refuse him. But she was left with little other option. She did not wish to walk back into that ballroom in a state of undress.
"Please would you help me?" she said seriously, looking at him directly in the eye. She saw how she caught him off guard. He did not actually think I would ask, she thought.
He hesitated for a minute, then moved slowly towards her. "Turn around, then."
Bessie slowly turned around. She felt her breath catch as she felt his hands move her mane of blonde curly locks over her shoulder, and then start pulling her strings tighter on her dress.
"How do you know how to dress a woman?" she asked, looking at him over her shoulder. She was startled for a minute that she did find him extremely handsome, him being so close behind her. Her earlier irritation against him started to fade slightly.
"I do not think it would be wise to answer that my lady," he said, as he finished fixing her dress.
His hand lingered for a moment, but he quickly took a step back.
"Thank you," she said and smiled. She noticed he too looked a bit flustered, but he managed to still come across composed, and cleared his throat.
"It is not every day one sets out to find a 'damsel in distress' in a garden and actually completes his aim of abetting her," he replied, quoting her earlier words with humour upon his face.
Bessie laughed softly. "I should really go; I cannot risk being seen alone with a man in a garden."
"Of course," he said. Neither of them spoke for a short while as they continued to appraise each other. She had never seen him before at court, so she guessed he must be an English nobleman of some kind.
Bessie swept a small curtsey, as befitted both of their stations, and began to walk away, only for her to be stopped by his voice.
"Wait, what is your name? I have not seen you before," he said, as he walked a bit closer towards her.
She decided not to tell him her full name just in case he spread a rumour about her being an unruly daughter of the Duke of Norfolk. "It is Bessie," she replied with a small smile. "And yours?"
"Edward."
A/N- Hi everyone! Please follow, favourite and comment on this story! I love hearing people's thoughts. I might even published the next chapter sooner too…Thanks again Unique16 for your review 😊