I wish I could love her more
' You should be proud of her too Henry.' Anne ghost's said
'I am. I am very proud of her. And I know how clever she is.'
Anne smiled a bit.
' And I wish I could love her more...' Henry said about to cry
He loved his sweet little Bessie. He could never thank Anne enough for this marvellous gift. He loved his daughter, he always admired her calm, her self-control, her intelligence. Elizabeth was a true Tudor. And he felt ashamed to have doubted one day that he fathered her. She had the temper of a true Tudor princess. Her teachers always worshiped her and he couldn't help feeling proud when he heard them. Proud that his blood was running through her veins. Proud that she was his daughter. Proud that she beared his name. He regretted that she was not very close to him. Maybe she was afraid of him after what he has done. After all, even if he was not the one holding the sword, he was the murderer of her mother, of her uncle George, of her aunt Jane Rochford and of her cousin and stepmother Katherine. He knew all of Elizabeth's virtues. But she reminded him of Anne. Sometimes, he did not see Elizabeth but Anne. And his dissapointement towards Anne, it was their daughter that felt it. He regretted that but it was beyond his control. He wished he could love her more. Because she was worth it. She was the daughter evry father would dream of having.
' And I wish I could love her more... But from time to time... She reminds me of you. And of what you did to me.'
And he was sorry for it.