At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn (46 page)

She could hear the women’s voices growing softer as they made their way back to the manor. Soon, all she heard were the noises of the land: the lark’s song, the chirp of the jays, the creak of the cricket. With the warmth of the afternoon came a peace she had not felt for many weeks. No thoughts of Queen Anne’s execution troubled her, no dread of the king’s wrath. Instead, she thought of Arthur, tried to remember the exact shade of his eyes, the shape of his mouth, the feel of him. She recalled the times they lay together and instead of feeling sad, the way such daydreams usually made her feel, she was happy to have known this love, happy to have his child in her belly. Soon, the sun warming her completely, Madge drifted to sleep with sweet thoughts of Arthur fluttering in her head.

“My love.”

Madge heard his voice and she knew she must be dreaming still. For certainly, that was Arthur speaking. And it sounded as if he were lying beside her. She smiled and turned toward the sound but did not open her eyes. She did not wish to disturb this dream.

“You have never looked so beautiful.”

Her eyes flew open at those words. She looked straight into Arthur’s deep brown eyes.

“What? What is this? Enchantment?” she said.

“I am no phantom, my love,” said Arthur, bending over her, taking her in his arms.

“How? What—”

Before she could say more, he kissed her, gently at first, then urgently. She responded to him without thought, still foggy from sleep, the sun striking her vision so that nothing seemed real.

Finally, she pulled away from him.

“Where have you been?” she demanded abruptly.

“My love, there is much to tell. I will shorten the tale as I am able. Come, let us walk along the hedgerow and I will make things plain,” he said.

He pulled her to her feet and, arm in arm, they strolled while Shadow wove circles around their legs.

“When I discovered the queen was to die, I knew I must come for you—I knew you were in grave danger. My dear father knew my mind and had me bound and imprisoned in the barns at Guildford Castle. He did not wish for me to marry from such an evil family. He bade me eat once a day, bread and water, so my strength would ebb,” said Arthur.

“How did you get away?” said Madge.

“I am not without certain, er, skills, milady,” he said, smiling.

“Skills of magic? Ways to unbind yourself?” she said.

“The serving wench who brought my food was soon willing to bring meat and ale. After a time, she was willing to unloose my bonds,” he said, still grinning.

Madge could feel her face burn.

“And how did you reward this wench? Did you bed her?” she said.

“You are a pretty one when you are angered! How your cheeks blaze! And your eyes are filled with passion! I wish to throw you upon the ground and take you, my love, right now!” said Arthur, pulling her to him.

“Not so, sirrah! You need explain yourself!” said Madge.

“Tut, tut. I did not bed the wench! But I did pack my horse and was ready to ride to London. I waited until nightfall, then led the horse out of the barn in all silence. But the wench must have spilled my plans to my father, for he met me in the outer yard,” said Arthur.

“Oh no! What then?” said Madge, hugging him to her.

“When first I saw him, I feared for my life! He is not a man to be crossed. His sword was drawn and his face thunderous! He came at me and bludgeoned me about the shoulders with the blade flattened against me. Then, he took me by the ear and pulled me into the hall. He continued until we were in his privy chamber where there was set a table with meat and drink. He pushed me onto a bench and told me to stay put. Then, he poured us each a glass of Rhenish wine, thrust the cup at me, and commanded, ‘Drink, ye lowborn son of a whore!’ To which I drank,” said Arthur.

Madge stopped walking and faced him. She reached her fingers to touch a bluish spot on his brow.

“How long did he make you suffer?” she said.

“He did not give me that blow—’twas from the horse. But pray, let me continue,” said Arthur, kissing her fingers.

“I was used to name-calling so he did not get the rise from me he wanted. He ordered me to explain myself, and I told him once again of the great love I hold in my heart for you, my sweet. I allowed that since I was born on the wrong side of the bed, I owed him no allegiance and he had no right to keep me from you. To which he replied as my father, he had every right. And then, to my astonishment, he pulled out a parchment and opened it. He had claimed me, had given me a small portion of his lands and gold, and all was signed by order of the king himself!” said Arthur.

“It is only right that he should do so, dearest! He should have done so long ago! I cannot help but think him a knave,” said Madge.

“Nay, nay, sweetheart. He is the best of men. For he also gave his permission for me to marry to mine own liking—he said he did as much when he took His Majesty, the king’s sister to wife—and he was none the worse for it. Then, we sat down together and drank more bottles of wine than I can remember,” said Arthur, laughing a little.

“Oh, my love! I cannot believe this is true!” said Madge, throwing her arms around him.

“Take a look at this bag of coin if you do not believe me,” said Arthur, taking a small bag out of his breeches. “And there is more in my saddle pouches, enough to buy a small house here. I thought we would settle near your own people, away from court and away from my father’s wrath, should it roar up again,” said Arthur.

Madge looked at the gold and burst into tears.

“What is this? Do you shed tears of joy to see such wealth?” said Arthur.

“No, ’tis nothing of that. But, how can I tell you … I am … I am…”

“What is it, woman? You are what?” said Arthur.

“I am married! And I am to have your child! Oh, all is lost and befuddled!” said Madge, crying harder now.

“What mean you? Married? How so? My child? Oh, ’tis glorious news! But the tale is muddled, I fear. Speak it plain, my love,” said Arthur.

“My mother, when I told her I was with child and I had heard no word from you, she devised to help me. For surely, of all people, you know what happens to a woman who has a bastard child. My father, had he been home, would have thrown me out. So, my sainted mother found me a husband,” said Madge between sobs.

“But how? And who? Who would marry under such conditions?” said Arthur.

“Sir Thomas Wodehouse. He is a neighbor and my mother paid him dearly for agreeing to the marriage. He is a kind enough man, though greedy. She gave him coin and land to take this babe as his own and to take me for his wife. We have been wed two months now,” said Madge.

“And is there no way out? Can we not say we were precontracted to each other?” said Arthur, who turned away from her.

Madge could not think clearly. She longed to hold Arthur, kiss him, and make him her own again. She sensed he was angry and she knew he thought her false.

“I am sorry, dearest. I did not think I would ever see you again—I doubted your love. In this, I was wrong,” said Madge. She felt the babe move, as if it, too, were sorry. She took Arthur’s hand and placed it on her belly.

“Your son moves, sir,” she said quietly.

“I feel … little bumps, kicks? Is that it?” said Arthur, his face aglow.

“Yes. He must needs walking. Let us continue,” she said. She did not let go of his hand and he entwined his fingers with her own.

“Has the marriage been … consummated?” Arthur mumbled.

“Nay. Sir Thomas does not wish to disturb the babe and, as I begged him for time, he has agreed to wait until the babe is born,” said Madge.

“So, he has not known you then?” said Arthur.

“No. All we have done is share a bed—for sleep, beloved. For sleep alone,” said Madge.

“Then there is our answer. For a marriage can be annulled if man and wife have not known each other. My own father used such a ruse when he rid himself of his first wife. We must go to your mother at once. She will, mayhap, help you again,” said Arthur.

He kissed her once again, deeply, a kiss that took possession of her, body and soul. Then, they walked back to the manor house.

*   *   *

“Madame? Madame? ’Tis he! ’Tis Arthur! Come, Lady Shelton! Come at once!” cried Cate as she stared at Madge and Arthur walking into the courtyard hand in hand. Her own heart was in her throat and she felt the flush of joy for her dear, dear Maddie.

Lady Shelton soon joined her, her sewing still in her hands.

“He is a pretty sight, is he not, milady?” said Cate.

“Quite manly and bold, too, to come here now. I see why my daughter would give herself to such a man,” sighed Lady Shelton. “But he is come too late. She is wed to another.”

“Surely, this can be changed, madame. Surely we can find a way to give my Maddie what she wants. She has suffered much, more than you will know, lady,” whispered Cate.

“Let us remove from the door—we do not want them to find us gaping like sheep. Come, Cate. Into the sewing chamber. Let the serving wench lead them to us,” commanded Lady Shelton.

The two women hurried to the sewing chamber where each sat on a low stool, bent over her work.

“I cannot keep my needle steady, my hand shakes so,” said Cate.

“Hush! I hear footfalls,” whispered Lady Shelton.

The women kept their heads down. Madge and Arthur waited for Lucy, the washerwoman, to announce them.

“Lady Wodehouse and Sir Arthur Brandon,” shouted Lucy.

Lady Shelton rose to her full height and Madge noticed her mother looked as if she smelled something quite rotten.

“Mother, this is Arthur,” said Madge as she curtsied to Lady Shelton.

“How is it he is now ‘Sir’ Arthur, rather than Master Arthur?” said her mother with venom in her voice.

Madge started to answer, but Arthur stepped up from his bow so that he stood between Madge and her mother.

“Lady Shelton, you have reason to be angry with me, for I know how this looks to you. But I assure you my love for your daughter is true and I wish to have her as my wife. We can claim a precontract—there is proof enough in her belly,” said Arthur calmly.

“How do you imagine my daughter could be precontracted to a baseborn bastard?” said Lady Shelton.

“If this is your only objection, madame, I have the parchment to prove my father, duke of Suffolk, has now claimed me and made me part heir with my two brothers. This means I am to inherit one full third of his holdings. Lady Shelton, need I tell you such an inheritance will raise your daughter’s status immensely. And that of your grandchild,” said Arthur.

Madge’s mother fell silent for a moment, then curtsied deeply to Arthur.

“My lord, you have astonished me. Forgive my impertinence,” said Lady Shelton.

Arthur raised her up gently and smiled at her.

“It is I who should beg your forgiveness. I failed to come for my Pretty Madge when she most needed me. There is good reason for this but I shall save that tale for another day. I am here now and wish to claim my bride,” he said.

“Hmmm. There
is
the precontract; but I have promised Sir Thomas both gold and land—he will not give these up, of that I am certain. And Margaret is a good match for him as well,” said Lady Shelton.

“Mother, there is something you must know. Thomas has not bedded me,” said Madge, her cheeks on fire.

“Why on earth not? He is no ganymede! And you are buxom enough!” said Lady Shelton.

“I begged him to wait until the babe was born. I told him I wished to know him a little before we…” said Madge.

“Ha! And he agreed to this?” said Lady Shelton.

“I told him such an act would endanger the babe and myself! He was kind,” said Madge.

“What fools men be! Tut, tut. ’Tis good, though, for our purpose. What shall be done? Oh, what shall be done?” said Lady Shelton as she began to pace the room.

“Madame, if I may be so bold, this is between Sir Wodehouse and myself. I can handle him, even if I must draw my blade,” said Arthur.

“Oh no, dearest! You cannot risk yourself so—I have only just found you! I would not chance losing you again!” said Madge, flinging herself into his arms.

“Have you so little faith in me? You think I would not best him? Pish! I would serve him carved in pieces!” said Arthur, pushing her away.

“My love, I meant only that I could not stand to think of such danger for you—I want our boy to know his father,” said Madge, putting her arms on his chest. She then softly touched his cheek.

“You do know how to rule me, Pretty Madge. I shall use reason on the man. And the force of gold rather than steel. Does this please you?” he said, placing his hands on her waist.

“Aye, my love,” she said.

“By St. Anne, save your pretty words for the bedchamber,” said Lady Shelton.

“If I may speak, sir?” said Cate.

“Good Cate! Forgive me! I greet you happily, my lovely!” said Arthur, turning to her and bowing.

“Pshaw! Enough of your shenanigans, Master … er, Sir Brandon,” said Cate, turning red at his gesture. “Should you ride to Kimberly and speak man-to-man with Sir Wodehouse, a good end would come of it. Though his father and brothers be there with him, they are gentles, after all. With the right offer, Sir Thomas will agree, I wager,” said Cate.

“What makes you so very certain, Cate? What do you know?” said Madge.

“I speak with his chief steward at chapel every Sunday. It seems there is a woman who caters to him, one he loves already. She is lowborn, so they cannot marry. But love her, he does,” said Cate.

“This news explains much,” said Lady Shelton.

“Methinks you have it by the right ear, Cate. I ride to Kimberly on the morrow,” said Arthur.

*   *   *

That night, Arthur and Madge slept in the great bed, Madge in her gown of lawn with embroidered flowers on the neckline and lace at her sleeves. Her hair, reddish-gold in the candlelight, fell down her back in soft ringlets. Arthur wore his nightshirt and Madge could see his chest through the thin cloth. She lay against the pillows and watched as he crawled in beside her. He gathered her in his arms.

“I have waited long to hold you, my love. I will not be so easy to dissuade as Sir Thomas,” said Arthur, kissing her eyelids, her cheeks, her nose, her ears.