At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn (30 page)

“No doubt of that, Lady Margaret. I am not foolish enough to sully what belongs to the king and I am sure you serve His Majesty well enough. But he will tire of you soon, as he has all the others. And when he does, I shall then have what I list,” he said. He still held her close to him, his grasp on her arms firm and unyielding.

“If you release me and go on your way, I shall not mention our encounter to His Majesty. Unhand me!” said Madge as Shadow continued growling. For a moment, they stood still as statues and Madge wondered if Norris had lost his senses—she thought he might try to take her even yet, though it would mean his head.

Madge heard a slight rustle through the forest, as if someone were making his way toward them. A shudder of fear raised the hairs on her arms. For though the woods belonged to the king, often madmen and murderers sought concealment in the shadows of the great trees that grew so large a grown man could hide in the hollows of their trunks. Robbers and cutthroats were known to accost weary travelers in these very woods, as Arthur had cautioned her many times. But when she was with Arthur, she had not known fear.

“Norris! On your feet, man, and take your blade,” said a voice.

Norris grabbed his sword.

“Brandon! You have naught in this,” said Norris.

“I have everything in it. You may as well know it now—she is my beloved and has promised herself to me. She loves you not,” said Arthur.

“Would you defy the king? He has given her to me—I have his word on it,” said Norris.

“I will defy the whole world for her! Now either fight or run, Sir Norris—your choice,” said Arthur.

“Your skill with the sword is well-known, Master Brandon. I will get me to the castle and let His Majesty pronounce your fate,” said Norris, placing his sword in its sheath. “You have not heard the last of this!” he said as he carefully backed away from Arthur. Once he had moved a safe distance, he began to run toward the meadow. He yelled a final taunt, “Heads have rolled for less!”

Twenty-nine

“Why didst come all alone to our favorite spot? Why not ask me to join you?” said Arthur as he held her against him.

“I thought to have the afternoon to prepare myself—for what is to come on the morrow. I wished to pray for God’s help. I needed to consider all that might happen. I longed for a time of peace before I am to give myself to the king,” said Madge.

“I have thought of nothing else. My blood boils when I think of you in that old man’s bed. My heart has commanded my legs to run and I have been roaming the halls of the castle looking for you—I went first to the queen and she told me she had given you the afternoon to yourself,” said Arthur. Madge could hear his heartbeat, fast and hard, against her ear. His body seemed tense, ready to slay dragons. She grew afraid.

“My love, must you go through with this rash scheme?” said Arthur, still holding her as though he would never let go.

“There is no way out. The king expects me to give way. The queen has ordered me to do so. You see how precariously she teeters on the throne. Since the death of the little prince, the king has not been to her bed but a few times. His eye roves where it will and ladies are put before him daily. The Seymours continue to whisper in his ear, no doubt about their virtuous sister. The queen’s enemies seek to control His Majesty and bend him to their will,” Madge said. She could feel the fear of Norris combine with the fear of what she must do in the trembling of her body. She wanted to make Arthur understand why she must complete the act that the queen set spinning.

“My dearest, dearest Arthur, I despise the thought of the king’s hands upon my person—his foul breath and his odious leg. I would not come near him if I did not believe the queen’s life depended on my success. I have seen the evil looks he gives her when her head is turned away from him. We both know he is a man of great danger, growing more so by the day, it would seem,” said Madge. She felt tears threaten to pour from her eyes. She threw her arms around Arthur’s neck and sobbed, “The queen has been ever kind to me. But it is for
us
that I bed the king—for
our
future. You must know that,” said Madge, clinging to him, her fingers clutching at his cloak.

“You are shivering. Norris has frightened the death out of you. Come, let us sit on the tree and I shall calm you,” said Arthur as he led her to the tree trunk. He spread his cloak out for them to sit upon and put his arm around Madge as he joined her. “After I learned you had the afternoon to yourself, I thought you might bring Shadow to the wood. Luckily, as I was heading up the hill across the meadow, I saw Norris entering the trees, hurrying and looking around to see whether or not he was observed. I knew then you might be in trouble. He has said often that he would take you before he wed you, to see if he could mold you to fit him, you being a maid,” said Arthur.

“He is a toad. The king has promised to release me from my vow. And with the queen’s blessing, we can marry,” said Madge.

They sat on the log for several minutes, kissing and giving each other comfort. The sun was no longer high and Madge knew her time was limited. She sat up and faced Arthur.

“Let us marry now,” she said, staring into his eyes.

“What do you mean?” he said.

“I mean to keep my promise—I said I would come to you before the king could lay his hands upon me and I aim to keep my word. Let us marry right now, in our woods, beneath the trees that have offered us their shelter so many times. If we pledge our troth here and you make me your honest wife, who will know? The king will not be able to tell if I am a true maid or no. The queen has told me of tricks I can use to fool him if he should wonder. Let us become one flesh,” she said, her breath coming in little puffs.

Arthur stood and drew her to him. They held hands.

“Before God, I marry you, Lady Margaret Shelton, and will give my life for you,” said Arthur.

“Before God, I marry you, Sir Churlish, and give my love to you,” Madge said, smiling.

“I consecrate this union with water,” said Arthur, cupping a handful and pouring it over Madge’s hair.

“And I as well,” said Madge, splashing him on the head.

They dallied in the water, plashing and spraying each other until their clothes were wet. Arthur led Madge to his cloak, which he now spread on the ground. Slowly and carefully, he removed her damp skirts and her shift. Naked but unafraid, she lay down upon the soft mossy earth, her pale flesh kept clean by his cloak. He pulled out a small packet from his breeches and then let them fall to his knees.

“What are you doing?” said Madge.

“’Tis called a lover’s sheath. It is a new thing to keep the pox at bay—I do not use it for that reason, fear not. I am clean and I know you are, too. But they say it can also keep my seed from giving you a babe. We must be very careful,” he said.

“But … what
is
it?” she said.

“Always the curious Pretty Madge! It is a finely woven linen cloth dipped in lard and dried in the sun. Dr. Linacre, the king’s own physician, prepares it for many of the men at court,” said Arthur.

“A marvelous invention—but hurry my love, hurry!” said Madge.

Arthur lowered himself onto her, kissing her deeply. He then ran his tongue along her entire body, licking her behind the knees, on the inner flesh of her elbows, along her thighs until he came to her womanhood. He looked at her, his eyes glassy with desire and then he began to kiss and nibble and lick her most private parts until she was wet enough to accommodate his member without much pain. Once within, he stirred her slowly, barely moving at first. She remembered the way her mother made a sweet pudding, slowly building the ingredients to a roaring boil. It was the same with Madge. Without warning, she felt a deep pulsing in her womb. This throbbing then radiated outward to her womanly parts, down through her legs to her toes while at the same time, skittering along her spine until her head felt as if it would burst. She groaned with pleasure and pulled Arthur to her, her hands suddenly alive with purpose, guided him over and over until she felt once again the building up of her desire.

She lost all track of time. It seemed she and Arthur went beyond time and space, entered another realm altogether. He continued to move slowly within her, bringing that delicious feeling to her body several times before she felt him thrust more quickly, seemingly without control. She watched his face as his eyes rolled back in his head and he gave a loud sigh. He collapsed onto her, kissing her cheeks and her forehead.

“Oh my love,” she whispered.

“My Pretty Madge…” he sighed.

Thirty

The next morning, Madge awoke and felt the stickiness between her thighs. She lay back against her pallet and smiled, remembering. She had not imagined such pleasures could be lurking in her own body, like a secret treasure waiting to be opened. Arthur had known every way to delight her and in their short time together, he had proven his virility three times, leaving her exhausted and filled with all the joy she could hold.

Though she would give herself to the king this very day, she was glad that Arthur had taken her maidenhead. She was happy that Arthur had made way for the king, rather than the other way around. She shuddered when she thought of the king having his way with her. Could she complete the act? Or would she run out of His Majesty’s arms, screaming her disgust? She looked out the glazed windows of the queen’s bedchamber and noted the dark sky. Pellets of rain hit the panes and dripped down in little runnels. Madge glanced up at the queen’s bed and saw Her Majesty still sleeping, her mouth open a bit, a soft snore coming from it. The queen had been up long into the night. Madge had heard her walking and murmuring to herself, then tossing in the enormous bed, not able to find a position to her liking. Madge stayed awake, listening, as long as she could, but sleep finally took her away. She dreamed of Arthur’s mouth, his tongue, his hands and fingers, his manhood. Such dreams kept her happy until her very waking moment.

She turned away from the queen and pulled the coverlet over her shoulders. She touched the private place where Arthur had been and enjoyed the feel of him still inside her. She could smell him and she did not want to bathe as that would take the scent of him away from her. But she knew she must. The king would know the odor of love and he must be deceived above all else. But for this moment, the scent could linger so she would not forget it.

Soon, the chamberlain entered to set out the queen’s clothes, clean the rushes, and prepare the inner and outer rooms for the queen’s breaking of the fast. Madge arose and poured water from the ewer into the large bathing bowl. She planned to use the water after the queen had washed her face and hands with it, to clean her private parts. She was to meet the king’s barge after Their Majesties had dined, at evening when the first stars crept out.

“Lady Margaret, bring my green kirtle and the green-slashed sleeves. I would look especially fine this day,” snapped the queen.

“Yes, Majesty,” said Madge. “Madame, you must recall what is to happen tonight…”

“Of course I recall it! Think you I have lost all my senses?” said the queen.

“No, Majesty. I wondered what
I
should wear. And if you would wish me come to your bedchamber when the king has returned me in the morning,” said Madge.

“Yes. Come immediately to me. As for your clothes, you will wear this lovely blue dress—I think of the color as midnight blue, so dark and alluring. Feel, ’tis velvet and look at the jewels sewn within. The king has not seen me wear it—the tailor made it for you, Lady Margaret. It will be yours to keep after tonight. Now, take this necklace of diamonds and wear your hair down loose. Make a daisy chain to weave in with those curly locks of yours—you might even fashion a crown of daisies for your head. You will be quite fetching, Pretty Madge,” said the queen, her tone odd and cold.

“Majesty, I … beg of you one last time…” Madge said.

“No! Speak no more! What is to happen will happen, grudge who may. Now, quiet! I am to sup with His Majesty tonight and I would be in fine spirits. Take the dress and the jewels to your nurse’s room and have her help you adorn yourself. The whole court already tells the tale of the beautiful, young Lady Margaret and her lover, the king! Be gone! I will speak with you in the morning,” said the queen.

*   *   *

Madge hurried to Cate’s room, carrying what she needed for her meeting with the king. Cate had gone to break her fast at the Great Hall and Shadow leapt up to greet Madge when she knocked, then opened the door. She lay the clothing on Cate’s pallet and played with her dog. She was too nervous to eat and thought about the evening to come.

She admired the king; he was brilliant and strong, capable of great kindness and courage; he wrote music, tilted with the most accomplished jousters of the day; he danced and hunted with great skill, yet he could also debate theology until the wee hours of morning. He loved to laugh, yet was easily moved to tears. He sang with gusto and lived with enormous appetite. Such a man Madge had never imagined. As a king, he made her proud. As a man, he left her cold.

She had seen him display great patience, as when the queen was with child and peevish. She had also seen him act cruelly. Recently, when the princess dowager Catherine had been quite ill, His Majesty had prohibited her daughter, the lady Mary, to visit. Spending a few days with her mother would have done both mother and daughter great good. But, Lady Mary would not acknowledge Queen Anne as rightful queen and the king was livid about it, so he refused to allow Mary to give succor to her ailing mother. The whole court muttered against His Majesty’s unkindness.

Madge studied the necklace the queen had given her to wear. The diamonds shone in the light, polished cabochons smooth and rounded. She was fortunate to be able to adorn her neck with such jewelry, if only for one night. She picked up Cate’s rosary beads, which she usually kept hidden in a pouch of her under shift. Madge thought about what she had done with Arthur. Though they were not married by a priest, she felt as if God Himself had married them. She agreed with the queen that between herself and God, there need
be
no priest. What had happened with Arthur, though many would think it a sin, felt to Madge more like a sacred union.