At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn (36 page)

“How should I know the hour he will set foot in the castle? Am I a soothsayer? Do I read the tea leaves? Sit down, Maddie-girl! You are making Shadow a nervous Nell,” said Cate.

“Methinks it has been long since I have seen him!” said Madge, alighting on the edge of Cate’s pallet. However, she could not stay seated. She resumed her route, back and forth, back and forth. Before she could make another round, she heard a soft tapping at the door. She flung open the heavy door with the vigor of two men.

“Arthur!” she cried out as she rushed into his arms. He quickly pushed her away.

“Inside, inside!” he said, closing the door behind him.

Once safely in Cate’s room, they embraced and kissed for many minutes while Cate averted her eyes and petted Shadow. Finally, she spoke.

“I think ’tis time for me to gather some greenery for my room to give it a bit of Christmas cheer,” she said.

Arthur broke his embrace and took Madge by the hand, leading her to the pallet.

“Prithee, wait, good Cate. I have news I must spill to both of you. You will like it not,” he said.

“What is it?” said Madge.

“’Tis about the queen and our country,” said Arthur.

“Then tell us quickly,” said Madge.

“My father has let slip many things whilst we worked. First, the emperor threatens. Francis the First maintains close relations with the pope. Paul the Third has tried to gather a coalition against Henry, and Catherine still calls on her nephew, the emperor, to invade us. The common folk dislike Queen Anne as much as ever and there is disquiet across the land. The people do not like the changes Henry is making in the church and they blame everything on Her Majesty,” said Arthur.

“But this seems much as it has always been,” said Madge. “There are ever wars and rumors of wars.”

“There is one change which you will not like,” said Arthur.

“What is it?” said Madge.

“The king is thinking of putting away his wife. He is enraptured of Jane Seymour and with her brother, Edward, now a groom of the king’s chamber, Mistress Jane waxes while the queen wanes,” said Arthur.

“We know about the king’s harlot,” said Cate.

“He will tire of her, I am sure. And you forget, Arthur, the queen is with child,” said Madge.

“He tires of them all, does he not? The queen’s child can save her if it be a boy. Another girl? I believe His Majesty will find a way to rid himself of her,” said Arthur.

“I hope you are mistook,” said Cate.

“Let us speak no more of this—come, dearest, I have prepared food and ale for you. You are tired from your journey,” said Madge.

“Let me feast on you, sweetheart—that is all I need of food and drink,” he said.

IV

1536

These Bloody Days Have Broken My Heart

—SIR THOMAS WYATT, FROM A POEM OF THE SAME NAME

Thirty-three

One week after gifts were exchanged on New Year’s Day, news came that the dowager princess Catherine had left this earthly existence. Madge was with the queen and king in the Great Hall when the courier arrived.

“God be praised that we are free from all suspicion of war!” shouted the king when he heard the news. The messenger then handed him a letter from Catherine’s own hand, but the king did not open it. The queen and all her family were much relieved at the news, and Madge heard the queen’s brother say, “Let her daughter join her!” Madge was shamed when George said such a cruel thing, and she felt sorrow for the lonely death of Queen Catherine, who had been Henry’s loving wife for twenty-six years.

The next day, a Sunday, the king and queen appeared dressed in yellow, the color of mourning in Spain. The king wore a white plume in his hat. Even Elizabeth was clothed in a gown the color of egg yolk. After they had attended church, the king took Elizabeth to the Great Hall and paraded her around for all to see. There was much dancing for several days to celebrate the death of the former queen. After the dancing, Henry decided a joust was in order and appeared in the tiltyard, paying his respects to Lady Jane, who gave him an embroidered handkerchief to wipe his brow. Though he was her champion for the joust, he was careful to insist the queen take an afternoon’s rest before the tilt began, so as not to endanger the babe. Her Majesty did not see his public display of courtly love to the lady Jane, but Cate saw and reported it to Madge.

“Methinks His Majesty believes he is still young! Tilting at his age—he will soon be forty-six and his pate is balding, his belly growing. Such foolishness! Yet, ever such folly is found in man,” said Cate.

“Aye, he does play the fool where his age is concerned—I am grateful he came to no harm,” said Madge. “And let us keep this news from Her Majesty—it will not help her,” said Madge.

“It is shameful the way he flaunts his new mistress for all the world to see—all the world except the queen. He did the same when you were his mistress, as you recall. He has no honor in him,” said Cate.

“Have a care, milady—such talk is treason in these times. Say naught of that but to me,” said Madge. “Now, let us go to the queen to see if we can ease her—she has been sick of the stomach again.”

“’Tis natural—your own dear mother could not keep anything in her belly but you for many months!” said Cate.

The queen was still abed when Madge knocked gently on the door to her chamber. Her Majesty often wished to be alone these days and had sent her ladies out of doors, though the weather was cold. The queen believed brisk air would do them all good and was healthy for the soul as well as the body. She had explained such things to Madge many times.

“Enter,” said the queen.

Madge went in first and gave the queen a deep curtsy with Cate behind her, doing the same. The queen was sitting up in her bed, leaning against several large pillows. Her color was better, pale roses blooming in each cheek. She smiled at both her servants.

“You are most welcome, ladies. I have rested well and feel like taking a stroll, perhaps even out to the herb garden, though there be little growing there at this time,” said the queen. “Help me with my dress, will you?”

“Yes, Your Grace. But I would caution Your Grace, the wind blows chill this day. You will need your velvet kirtle and the ermine mantle for your heavy cloak. ’Twould not do to catch the ague,” said Madge.

“Maddie’s right, Your Majesty. ’Tis that season, after all. Will you drink a cup of tea ere you go?” said Cate in a soothing voice.

“No thank you, Mistress Cate. You are kind to offer it, though. I am glad you have come with Lady Margaret—I see you are a woman of great good sense,” said the queen.

Madge turned to look at Cate and saw her flush with pleasure.

The queen was now ready for Madge to comb her hair and pin it up so it would fit beneath her hood. Madge noticed the queen was still very slim and delicate. She had not begun to add the usual plumpness of being with child, but then, the babe was barely begun. Madge did worry that the strain the queen endured was harming Her Majesty’s health.

“Dear Cate, will you see to Urian? He is lazy and has not been on a run for many days. The lady Margaret will walk with me,” said the queen.

“Certainly, Your Majesty,” said Cate and tugged at the old dog until he finally rose and followed her out.

“Come, Lady Margaret, I feel so much better than I have for weeks. Let us be merry!” said the queen as she stepped into the outer rooms. A few of her ladies remained there, sewing or playing dice. They curtsied as the queen walked past.

“I am glad Your Grace is feeling better—’tis a good sign that all is well with you and the babe,” said Madge.

“Yes, I thought I felt a flutter this morning, though I cannot be certain. Too early to be sure it was the babe and not indigestion,” said the queen.

“Did you know His Majesty has planned a grand jousting tournament and a feast at Greenwich on the twenty-fourth of this month? I did not know if he had told you about it, as you have been unwell,” said Madge.

“Oh yes, Harry explained it all. He wanted me to come to Greenwich, but I told him I would have to see how I am feeling. I may prefer to stay here, at Whitehall. I will take no chances with this babe,” said the queen.

As they worked their way to the entrance near the kitchens, they heard giggling and a low male voice. Madge realized immediately the voice belonged to His Majesty. The queen stopped in her tracks to listen. When Madge started to speak, the queen put her finger to her lips and shushed her. The more they listened, the clearer it became that the voice was, indeed, Henry’s.

The queen tiptoed to the half-open door into a small cellar. She stood in the archway for a moment, then pushed the door fully open. She gasped and then ran toward the figure sitting on His Majesty’s lap. Madge followed her inside and saw that the woman in question was Mistress Seymour.

Madge had never seen the queen so angry. She flew at Mistress Seymour and began pulling her hair and slapping her about the head and shoulders. The king pulled her away and commanded Jane to leave immediately. Jane’s usually pasty face was bright red as she swooshed past Madge without even looking up. Madge froze, too terrified to move.

“Henry, how could you? You promised!” screamed the queen, falling to her knees and sobbing.

“Sweetheart … dearest, do not take on so. Forgive me. If you wilt forgive the one who serves you still, you will have no cause to complain of me in this way again. Be of good cheer,” said the king.

He pulled the queen to her feet and embraced her. Carefully, he wiped her tears and then sat down, gently bringing the queen to sit on his knee. Madge watched as the queen struggled to regain control of herself. Madge admired the way the queen retained her dignity.

“Harry, my love—don’t you see—my great love for you is not like Catherine’s—I cannot abide you loving another. We are made to be together, dearest. You have moved heaven and earth for me and I worship you for it,” said the queen.

The king kissed her then, full on the mouth.

“All shall be as you wish, my sweet. Have no fears,” said the king.

The king rose and walked with the queen to where Madge stood at the door. Madge curtsied to His Majesty, a deep blush filling her cheeks as she recalled the night he had pleased her and the many nights he had failed her. How odd to remember such things when one curtsied to the king.

“Lady Margaret, take care to see the queen back to her bedchamber. She is in need of rest,” he said.

Madge and the queen walked back to her apartments and Madge helped the queen into bed. The entire event had exhausted Her Majesty and set her nerves on edge.

“He is a monster to treat me thus—a monster! One minute kind, the next cruel. He has put to death his dearest friends—Sir Thomas More, Wolsey, all those men of the cloth—he will not hesitate to do away with me as well. I mean nothing to him now,” fretted the queen.

“His Majesty is mercurial, ’tis true. And full of power. But you are his anointed queen and nothing can change that. You are to have his child—once the bonny prince is born, we can all rest with our ease,” said Madge. “Now calm yourself and drink this.” Madge had brewed chamomile tea with honey while the queen worried herself. Her Majesty sipped it and eventually fell asleep.

*   *   *

A few days later, Arthur met Madge in Cate’s room.

“Will you come to the festivities the king has planned on the twenty-fourth?” she said.

“Yes. My father has told me I need not return home until early spring when the fields will need plowing and the spring lambs birthing. I am to oversee all such work along with my brothers. My father grows too old to attend to such things,” said Arthur.

“He is older than the king, is he not?” said Madge.

“By almost ten years. So, yes, my love, I shall be at the festivities!” said Arthur.

“I think we should be seen together—we should dance and watch the jousts. The queen is not yet ready to make her request known to His Majesty, but if we are seen together, the court will become used to the sight. When Her Majesty does bring it up, the king will be more amenable,” said Madge.

“Methinks you see the bright side of the sun. I see the dark side of the moon. I fear His Majesty might become enraged and toss us both to the wolves,” said Arthur.

“Perhaps His Majesty has more on his mind than the actions of two insignificant people like us,” said Madge, laughing.

“Let us hope so—dearest, let us hope so,” said Arthur, kissing her.

*   *   *

The day of the great festival arrived, with the jousts beginning after the midday meal. The queen was in her bedchamber, once again unwell. Madge and Bessie Holland had been serving her all morning, attempting to find food she could stomach. Madge expected to meet Arthur as they had planned, in spite of the queen’s indisposal. She would have to ride up the Thames to Greenwich in one of the boats for hire—she had hoped to find someone to ride with her, but Cate had refused.

“Your Grace,” she said softly so as not to jar the queen, “I should like to see the tournament with your permission—I hope to meet Master Brandon at the lists.”

The queen was reading her Bible. She looked at Madge for a moment as if studying her.

“Still fond of Master Brandon? Yes, yes, I can see you are. Go along then. Mistress Holland shall take care of me,” said the queen.

Madge smiled and thanked the queen.

“I shall return as soon as the lists are over—I shall not stay for the dancing!” said Madge.

“Oh stay! You are young—life is a brief candle! You may as well burn a little,” said the queen.

Madge grabbed her cloak and hurried to the river where she caught a boat to Greenwich. She quickly reached the spot where she and Arthur planned to meet. He was already there, a head taller than many of the men around him, almost as tall as the king himself. He led her by the hand and they made their way to a place in the stands for a better view. Arthur ran the lists himself at his father’s manor house in Surrey, but at court, he had not yet been invited. Like his father, he was quite good at it.

“They say the king himself will joust this day! What a man is our liege lord! I hope I will do the same when I am old,” said Arthur.