The Bridled Tongue
By Catherine Meyrick
Death and life are in the
power of the tongue.
England 1586
Alyce Bradley has few
choices when her father decides it is time she marry as many refuse to see her
as other than the girl she once was—unruly, outspoken and close to her grandmother,
a woman suspected of witchcraft.
Thomas Granville, an
ambitious privateer, inspires fierce loyalty in those close to him and hatred
in those he has crossed. Beyond a large dowry, he is seeking a virtuous and
dutiful wife. Neither he nor Alyce expect more from marriage than mutual
courtesy and respect.
As the King of Spain
launches his great armada and England braces for invasion, Alyce must confront
closer dangers from both her own and Thomas’s past, threats that could not only
destroy her hopes of love and happiness but her life. And Thomas is powerless
to help.
Excerpt
As Alyce rose from the table following the evening meal in the hall,
her father said, ‘Come, sit with me.’
She followed him to the settle at the fireside and sat staring into the
flames of the small fire crackling against the chill of the evening.
‘I said last week I would seek marriage offers for you.’
‘No!’ Alyce sprang up from the seat, her voice carrying across the
room.
The servants clearing the table paused and watched.
‘If I am of no use in this household, I will find a place elsewhere.’
‘What ails you, girl?’ her father said, impatient. ‘All women want
marriage.’
‘I will not marry Robert Chapman.’ Her worst days with Lady Faulconer
would be as nothing compared to life with Chapman.
‘Pah!’ He scowled at her. ‘You would do well to learn humility—good
women are led by their parents.’
She stared back at him—he did regard Chapman’s offer as worthy of
consideration.
‘You said I would have the final say.’ Alyce’s voice creaked. ‘I would
rather die than marry him.’ What evil had she done in life to earn such a
living hell?
‘His is not the only offer.’ He patted the seat beside him. ‘Sit down.’
Alyce gripped her hands tight in her lap, her knuckles white. Who did
he have in mind? Some aged man with grown children who would despise her?
‘Thomas Granville is interested too.’
She let go her breath. ‘Ah, his interest would be the dowry.’
‘He does want a wife. He needs someone to help his sister—her health is
failing. From what I know of him, I doubt he would marry for money alone. And
remember, all good marriages involve property and all parties try to make the
best they can of it. Granville insists you agree to this marriage.’
‘How kind—a willing lamb to the slaughter.’ Alyce knew she was being
unfair to Granville. Many men would not care. And, she suspected, he was a far
better man than common rumour suggested.
‘And Robert does not care whether I am willing or not.’
‘Robin has much to recommend him. He is diligent and hardworking and
knows the business well.’
‘And, in expectation of inheriting your business, the dowry would be
much lower. Does the fact I despise him count for anything?’
‘Solid marriages can be built from inauspicious beginnings.’ Her father
frowned. ‘What do you want, a love match?’
‘I am not a fool, Father,’ Alyce said bitterly. ‘I would like honour
and respect. Even a mutual liking. And the freedom to make my own choice.’
‘Such freedom would be fine if you had plenty to choose from.’
Alyce drew a sharp breath. It was hardly her fault she had spent her
most marriageable years in what amounted to exile.
‘Look,’ his voice softened. ‘Who has freedom in this life? Most of us
do what we must. Love is no basis for marriage. Hard decisions need to be made.
View marriage as a business decision—weigh the pros and cons. Love can grow
later.’
‘So it must be Thomas Granville? He is charming, but word is he has
debauched hundreds of women. The wife of such a man would have no peace of
mind.’
‘God-a-mercy, girl. It is idle chatter. He is unmarried—you cannot
expect a man to live like a monk.’
‘Women are expected to,’ she snapped. All went to church. All heard the
exhortations to continence. Nowhere did it say that these applied only to
women. ‘St Paul said—’
‘I do not want to hear what St Paul said,’ her father raised his voice
over hers. ‘We live in the world as it is where it is an entirely different
matter for women, as you well know.’
‘And if I do not accept his offer?’
‘What future is there for you? In service for the rest of your days, a
dependant in someone else’s household. When your mother and I are gone, where
would your home be then?’
‘I could stay here…’ She knew she could make a useful place for herself
if only given the chance.
‘Alyce. Have sense. As a single woman, even with wealth, you would be
prey to every foul-tongued rumour-monger. They would have you a witch, a whore
or worse.’ He leant forward, his palms spread on his thighs. ‘You must want a
home of your own, children, a husband to keep you safe.’
‘In a perfect world—’
‘The present world is all we have. You have no choice but to consider
these offers and decide on one.’
‘Can we not wait? You said we would take our time.’
‘And risk no one else offering?’
‘You think so little of me?’
He jerked his head. ‘If what is offered is good enough, grasp it. If
you wait, hoping for a green girl’s dream, you will end up with nothing.’
Alyce, her lips pressed tight, rose from the bench.
‘Think on it tonight and tell me your decision on the morrow.’
‘My decision? It appears you have made it for me,’ Alyce said as she
moved towards the stairs.
Pick
up your copy of
The Bridled Tongue
Catherine
Meyrick
Catherine Meyrick is a writer of historical fiction
with a particular love of Elizabethan England. Her stories weave fictional
characters into the gaps within the historical record – tales of ordinary
people who are very much men and women of their time, yet in so many ways are
like us today.
Catherine grew up in Ballarat, Australia in a
family with a love both of storytelling and of history. After moving to
Melbourne in her late teens, Catherine worked as a nurse and a tax assessor,
among other things, before finally finding her niche as a librarian. She
currently works at her local public library. She has a Master of Arts in
history and is also a family history obsessive.
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See you on your next coffee break!
Take Care,
Mary Anne xxx