April 29, 1554

I am getting much practice in developing good temper! First of all, Signore Marcellini seems to come often to work with me and the four Marys on our quintet. He is always suggesting practice times. And although I much prefer this to our ballet practices, he is here so much, and often lingers, until finally I feel it impolite if I do not invite him to stay for a cup of chocolate or cider. Janet Sinclair says I must always invite him, for he puts so much effort into our music lessons and he does not need to be teaching the four Marys as well, which he does only from the goodness of his own heart.

The second way in which I practise good temper is with my uncles. Since they have been here, my uncle the Cardinal and Uncle Francis have begun talking more and more about my marriage to Francis. In truth, I think – no, I know – they are fearful that because of his poor health he might die soon. I cannot bear the idea of losing him. I think of him not as an intended husband but as a dear friend. I can share the same sorts of thoughts and secrets with Francis as I do with the four Marys. How many boys can one do that with? He is like a brother to me but better. So although it disturbs me when my uncles speak of marriage, it disturbs me more that they do so because they fear for his life. I feel that across the bright light of our friendship slides the shadow of death. I shall be no more or less sad if I am, through Francis’s death, left a widow or a maid without a friend. Death is death, and the loss will be incalculable whether I am married to him or not. So I do wish that my uncles would stop their talk. I know that all weddings amongst royal families have more to do with alliances and balances of power than love, but can they not let us have this friendship for now without casting these shadows upon it? It is true what Francis said that time when we were playing chess – that we are not so much children and sons and daughters of parents as we are pieces on a gigantic chessboard called Europe, that I am to be his in order to help checkmate England. I do wonder sometimes what it might be like to be ordinary – not a Princess or a Queen, but rather of simple birth, and to marry not to balance powers and check kingdoms but simply for matters of the heart. I think indeed I would still marry Francis, for he is so agreeable and of such a kind nature.