Chapter Twenty-One: Sunday Plans
Dialing up Maxie on the telephone just after breakfast, Princess Mary felt strangely light-headed, breathless, as though she were a nervous beginning swimmer about to plunge off the high dive.
"Hello?" The rough and scratchy voice didn't sound very friendly. Mary felt a jolt of panic, her pulse surging wildly. Maybe it was a mistake ringing the girl photographer so early in the morning. Maybe she was making a fool of herself. Maybe . . . maybe . . .
"Good morning, Miss Maxwell! This is Mary Tudor calling. Sorry to be ringing you up so early, but those photos you took last night were really quite lovely. I simply wanted to offer my thanks!"
"You saw those?" Maxie's squawk of surprise made Mary smile. Though brash and bold, the sexy girl photographer had her weak spots. Maxie clearly didn't realize how talented she really was.
"Yes, these days even royals read the tabloids, I'm afraid." Mary laughed, her cultured voice sounding poised and relaxed. She couldn't explain why, but the more she talked the more confident she felt. It was almost as if she were channeling Queen Jane!
"I had to take those shots or my boss would have killed me," Maxie confided. "But I hated taking you by surprise like that. Do you think maybe – I mean, I know you have dozens of official palace photographers and all that – but do you think I could do some shots of you again sometime? Not for publication, I mean, just . . . well, just for fun. Just for the two of us."
"That's exactly what I had in mind," Mary assured her. "Doing something fun together, I mean. How would you like to be my guest at the Royal Flower Show next Sunday? I'll clear it with the Queen's Secretary, and make sure you're on the official palace guest list! But it won't be work. Just think of it as a day off!"
"Or a first date," Maxie replied, in her husky voice. Maybe it was a wisecrack – she was laughing when she put down the phone. But Mary's heart was pounding so loudly that she couldn't be sure.
Getting the Queen's permission to invite such an unusual guest was not an encounter that Mary looked forward to. But when she approached Jane after lunch her pretty stepmother was all smiles.
"Darling, I think that's a wonderful idea! It's never a mistake to cultivate friends in the press. They're the ones who shape our public image." Jane was just getting ready for an afternoon of golf, and she was suddenly quite keen on having Mary along as well.
"The royal image is of a family keen on fitness," Mary said, covering a huge yawn on the ninth hole. Her late night was catching up with her. And she couldn't help feeling a bit cynical about the afternoon outing. Jane was good at golf, but along with the fresh air and exercise she obviously enjoyed having her picture snapped as she stroked one graceful swing after another, her perfect form and slim figure very much on display.
Mary frowned as she waved off the photographers. She wanted to focus on her game, even though she kept bungling one shot after another. She just was never as keen on sports as her stepmother.
"Had enough for today, sweetheart?" Jane was chatting with her favorite golf pro when Mary came dragging up to the twelfth hole. The man was tall, and ruggedly built, an athlete in top condition. Mary wished her father the king was as fit and strong as he was. But being a king was hard work. So was being a princess!
"I'm okay," Mary said. But her face was dripping with perspiration. Her feet were tired, and she felt like dropping her heavy bag of clubs. She loved Jane, she really did. But six more holes on such a warm spring day was really asking too much!
"Take a break," the queen suggested. "Go back to the club house and rest, Soak in a hot bath. Put your feet up." Her voice was kind, but her eyes never left the golf pro's face. He was a champion, so good-looking that he'd been on magazine covers!
"You really think I should?" Mary didn't like leaving Jane alone with such a handsome man. The photographers were all gone, but people still talked. And if King Henry heard more rumors about his beautiful young queen there would surely be trouble!
"Don't you want to look your best on Sunday?" Jane looked at her, and this time her blue eyes were full of mischief. "You've got to be rested and fit to play your best game. Your father would say the same, but of course he's not all that keen on sports."
"He was once," Mary muttered to herself. But she understood the point Queen Jane was making. Both of them had secrets they needed kept from the king. And they had to protect each other.
Back at the royal club house, Mary felt guilty and unhappy about living a secret life. But as she wearily stripped off for her hot bath she decided that she would just have to make the best of things. The water was so soothing that she couldn't help but relax. And later, while she was having her massage, she began to picture what she had planned for Sunday and to feel excited. She fell asleep imagining all the things she could do with a girl like Maxie.