Sir,
Please don’t be mad with me, but I have taken Robert Dryden through the portal. PROMISE I won’t compromise ANYTHING!
Beth Wickers
I put the letter on the professor’s desk, where I know he will find it, then reach for the copy of Eric Ives’ Anne Boleyn book and tip the top of its spine towards me. Thank God that mechanism works, as I was worried the entrance to the portal would remain closed without the ring. Just as before, the bookcase swings open, allowing me to grab the flaming torch and lead Rob down the passageway, up the stairs, and towards the antechamber at Hever.
My heart pounds, not only because Rob’s hold on my hand is tight, but because something back in the darkness piques my attention – a noise from the office. Whatever it was, it dissipates, and we continue forward through the dim-lit passageway and up the thirteen steps that have become so familiar to me. I hope Anne is still here, and that time will not have leapt too far forward. My hand shakes as I push the antechamber door open.
“Who is there?” Anne cries out as she walks from her bedroom into the antechamber. “Is that you, Beth?”
“Yes, Mistress Anne.”
“Beth! I am so glad you are back. When you disappear, I have such a task explaining to my parents where you have gone.”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. Her cheeks are rosy, and her eyes are red. She looks upset, and I wonder am I to blame, or was she like this before my arrival.
“Whenever I try that door, it is stuck fast! Beth, you left without a word – how could you?” She’s mad with me, and who could blame her?
“Erm, I’ve brought a friend with me.”
She stops in her tracks when Rob steps out of the shadows.
“Hello, good sir. Beth, I…I thought you were gone for good! How could you do this to me, when I need you?” She doesn’t shout, but her words are tinged with anger and hurt. “I thought you had abandoned me, just when I need you to help me negotiate with Father, to get back to Court.”
“I know, Anne. I’m sorry.” I feel bad, but glad time doesn’t seem to have moved on too much. I stuff my hands into my jeans’ pockets as she stares at me, then at Rob. He is so obviously shocked, his jaw flapping as he glances around the small room, at Anne, then back to me.”
Anne wipes her eyes and giggles. “I am glad you are back, Mistress Wickers, but did not think you would bring company.”
She stares at Rob, and for a moment he looks trapped, like a rabbit in headlights, transfixed by her gaze. It is true what the ambassadors reported about her, that she knows how to entrap a man with the use of her fine, dark eyes.
“Robert, I presume?” She holds out her hand that he might kiss it. He steps forward, lays my bag on top of a trunk, and brushes his lips across the backs of her knuckles, still speechless.
“Is he shy?” she asks, giggling again.
“Not normally.” I prod him in the back. “Say something.”
“It’s…nice to meet you.” He grins like a Cheshire cat.
“Robert, it is a pleasure to meet you.” He just gawks, and I can see that he’s utterly hooked. She turns to me and laughs, her expression as bright as I have ever seen it. “I see he is wearing his horse-riding clothes, the same as you did…and now are.” She studies us, in our fashionably ripped jeans, and covers her mouth as she laughs.
“About that,” I say, “he can’t stay in those clothes. It will make him too conspicuous.”
“Who said anything about him staying?” Her gaze hardens on me. She waves her hands in the air. “And you, Beth, you need to change.” She nods to the bag filled with necessities I’ve brought from home. “And how do I explain his presence?”
That’s the second time she has reprimanded me in as many days. “While he’s here, can he borrow some of George’s clothes?”
“Lady Anne, if it’s going to be a problem, I will go.” Rob looks at me, then back to Anne. “I just wanted to see if what Beth had told me was true.”
Anne circles him, the same way she did with me when I first arrived. Rob looks unnerved by it and folds his arms across his chest.
“Father and George will not like it, you bringing a man to Hever.”
The passageway door shoots open, and the tapestry is pulled aside as Professor Marshall strides in. Like Rob and me, he looks out of place in twenty-first-century clothes but nevertheless is reverent to Anne, taking a deep bow and addressing her in front of us.
“Madam, please forgive my intrusion. I am Mister Marshall, a friend of Beth Wickers and Robert Dryden. I have come to take them both home.”
“Sir, I have heard of you.” She approaches him. “You are Beth’s university professor, are you not?”
“Yes, Mistress Anne.”
“You are welcome to take Robert back from whence you came, but I will not allow you to take Beth from me.” She seems resolute. What if this is the only opportunity I will have to return home, now that the ring is lost? Images of my family race through my mind. I need to tell the professor I’ve lost the ring. He’s going to kill me, but he needs to know. Whatever troubles Anne is going through now are irrelevant – it’s my future I need to be concerned with, not hers.
“But, My Lady, it is not possible for Mistress Wickers to remain here. In doing so, she is damaging your future happiness.” With that comment, he glares at me and I know I’ve messed up big time.
“Mister Marshall,” I start, “I nee—”
“No, Beth. Sssh, I think you have done enough.”
“Sir, it’s my fault,” Rob says. “I persuaded Beth to bring me through the portal.” He straightens and trails his fingers through his hair. “I didn’t mean for anyone to get into any sort of trouble.”
“I will talk with you later, Mister Dryden.” His anger burns into me as he grabs my wrist. “You are coming!”
“Let me go! Sir, I’ve los—”
“Be quiet! Can’t you see what you’ve done? You have put everyone involved in danger. I asked you to keep things between us, to support the Lady Anne and nothing more. You are meddling, and I warned you not to.” His grip on my wrist tightens and I grimace.
“Stop it!” Anne snaps. “Let Beth go now!”
The professor stares at her, and his grip weakens. I’m just glad he can’t see my other hand, missing the lost ring. “I asked her to support you and not to meddle in things she does not understand.”
“Sir, she has been a great help to me, and we are firm friends.” She steps closer to me. “You cannot expect me to give her up now, just when I need her.”
Rob loiters in the background, blatantly unsure of what to make of the conversation unfolding before his eyes.
“Very well, Mistress, as you wish, but I will only leave Miss Wickers with you if she makes a solemn promise to never interfere or to meddle, just as I told her the first afternoon, she came here to you.” He is left open-mouthed when Anne scurries into her bedroom.
“What are you doing?” I call to her.
“Looking for my prayer book so you can swear on it.”
Seconds later, she comes back into the antechamber carrying her precious book of hours and passes it to me. The professor releases my wrist, which is reddened and burning. The sight of it sends a shock of realisation through me. What have I done? If we’re all found, the potential for disaster is enormous. But what am I to do? Stay or go? I certainly don’t want to put Anne at risk. Right now, I wish the ground would swallow me up. I’m torn between my loyalty to the professor and to Anne, but I need to find the ring. I can’t go back with the professor without it – he’d kill me! The reality hits me: I need to stay – I need to find that bloody ring – I need to save my own neck now, not just Anne’s. The professor can’t know I’ve lost his precious jewel. I must protect myself and Anne, and guard both our futures.
I try to be a good Christian, so I will swear on the wo
rd of God and keep my promises, just as everyone wishes. With the book in my left hand, I keep my ring-finger beneath and place my right upon the embossed leather cover.
“I swear upon this Holy book that I will do as the professor has asked and not mess with history’s plan for Anne Boleyn, her family, nor their futures, so help me God.”
The grim look of retribution fades from the professor’s brow, and the relief that tensions have eased almost topples me. I find it fascinating that even now, after nearly five hundred years of time passing, that swearing on the word of God is as profound to onlookers as it was then. It reminds me of Anne swearing her innocence on the sacrament, and I vow to myself that I will prevent her from ever having to do that. But then, haven’t I sworn that I won’t meddle with her future? God help me, how did I get myself into this mess?
I snap back to the moment to see Rob retreat towards the passageway door. He catches my eye and mouths “I’m sorry.” Then he stops, a pained look in his eyes. “Forgive me?”
“Be quiet!” the professor snaps. “You have done enough damage.” The ensuing silence is broken by a knock on the bed-chamber door.
“I will answer it,” Anne says. “You can’t go dressed like that, Beth. You had all best be quiet.” She scans the three of us before leaving to answer the door. A long-held breath later, I hear mumbling apologies to her.
“Mrs Orchard, what is it?”
“Supper will be ready shortly, Mistress Anne.”
“Very well, I shall be down presently.”
“Mistress, do you need me to help you change for dinner?”
I hold my breath again as the door creaks. Mrs Orchard can’t see me in modern clothes – that would take too much explaining. And how on earth would we explain the presence of two men in the antechamber?
“A rider sent a dispatch earlier. Sir Thomas and your brother are expected back tonight.”
“Thank you,” Anne says. “And…Mrs Orchard, tell Mother to set another place for Beth.”
“Very well. Are you sure you wouldn’t like some help changing your gown?”
“No, Mrs Orchard. That will be all, thank you. Tell Mother Beth and I will be down presently.”
I wonder if Mrs Orchard is aware that I have been absent from Hever? How has Anne explained that? It must have been plausible, as Mrs Orchard’s tone remains as it always is. She reminds me of the actress Alison Steadman, and how she played Mrs Bennet in the BBC adaption of Pride and Prejudice.
“Very well, Mistress Anne.” With that, her apron flaps as she scurries off down the passageway. I’m lucky George hasn’t turned up. It wouldn’t be right if he just barged into Anne’s rooms in his usual style. That would not go down well with Rob, not to mention the repercussions of George seeing two male strangers in his sister’s bedroom. Anne returns to the antechamber.
“It was only Mrs Orchard. Father will be home soon, so I best get you changed into something more suitable.” Her brows raise as she stares at me, then at the professor and Rob. “Mother is expecting us for supper.”
“Well, gentlemen,” I say, “you heard the lady. I suggest you both make your way home.”
The professor frowns. “I’m not happy about this, but if you want to stay…?” He bows to Anne again, then Rob tries to make an effort at Tudor etiquette by kissing her hand.
“My Lady, we are so sorry to have disturbed you,” the professor says. He smiles at her, then looks to me. “You know where I am if you need me, right?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Don’t meddle. Remember what I’ve said.”
I nod. With that, he ushers Rob through the passageway. As they disappear into the darkness, Rob glances over his shoulder, looking somewhat lost and perturbed at being sent off. I can’t look him in the eye – I’m still angry that he persuaded me to defy the professor, and I’m gutted that I’ve broken a trust. But I need to forget about it, and the only way to do that is to shut the door on the portal. I pull the tapestry over, relieved that the whole episode is over, at least for now.
I grab the bag and pull the gown out onto Anne’s bed. Then I undress and fling my clothes into the bag, also removing any modern-day jewellery, while Anne finds a shift for me and throws it over my head.
“Thanks!” I sigh, feeling better now that I’m not so obtrusive. I stuff the bag right in under the bed. It still contains many modern conveniences: toothpaste, aspirin, mascara, and some leftover anti-biotics and heavy-duty painkillers. I never know what I might need, so I thought it best to pack everything but the kitchen sink.
As Anne helps lace my kirtle, she sounds pensive. “You would not have left me again, would you?” She ties the lacing tight as I pull my stomach in.
“I didn’t want to, but I thought I had to go back with them. I thought the professor wouldn’t allow me to stay with you again because I brought Rob through the portal.”
“Mister Marshall seemed placated.” She smiles. “I have a way with men!”
“Yes, so I noticed. It is those eyes of yours.”
“And what of you with Robert?” She giggles. “He is very handsome, is he not?”
“Yes,” I reply, “and very intelligent.”
“But…?”
“I’m afraid that after today, I have messed all that up.” I push my arms through the sleeves of my over-gown as Anne lifts its weight onto my shoulders. It feels good to be back in these clothes – back at Hever. When I turn around, she tugs on the lacing of my bodice.
“You could not have had a passion for two men. That would not be fair.”
“Can a woman not love two men at the same time?” I meet her gaze. “Didn’t you love two men simultaneously? Or have you forgotten Harry Percy and Thomas Wyatt already?”
“Now you are rude!” she says with indignation.
“No, I’m just honest,” I reply, unable to prevent a smirk. She knots the bodice laces hard and hides them under the placard of my over-gown. With my hair having been recently washed, she helps me ‘restyle’ it, so it matches my clothes. I finish making myself presentable, tucking my toes into my soft leather slippers and securing my silk girdle belt about the waist of my gown.
Anne leads the way down to supper and, as we reach the dining room, it’s hard not to hear Sir Thomas and George arguing in the library. We hover outside, peering through the small gap in the panelled door. George is standing in the candlelight, chewing on a toothpick, which seems to have become a regular habit. He looks confident as he stands before his father, who is sat at his worktable, now covered in fresh paperwork from court.
“When we spoke of marriage before, just as Anne returned from France, you were happy for me to decide for you. What has changed now?” He leans back in his chair, stroking his beard. The man sounds exhausted.
“Everything has changed, Father.”
“In what way?” He picks up a Venetian wine glass and takes a gulp of its ruby contents, then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Well, boy?”
“I do not love Jane Parker.” George paces the room, the toothpick still between his lips.
“I know not all marriages are as blessed as mine was with your mother. She married me for love and was happy to give up her ambitions to have your brothers and sisters.”
“You married mother to fulfil your ambitions first and foremost, Father.”
“The marriage may have been to my advantage, George, but it was a love match – with that there is no doubt.” He gets to his feet, his cheeks flushed. “You will marry Jane Parker, and you will beget a child once the girl has become a Boleyn.” He tugs on his wedding ring and twists it about his finger, no doubt to prevent himself from completely losing his temper. George does not shrink back from his father’s insistence.
“She likes to gossip!”
Thomas chuckles. “And you and Anne do not?”
“But, Father, w
hen I am at Court, she stares at me. She does not let me out of her sight.” He tugs at the cuff of his shirt. I notice he always does that when he’s angry or anxious. “She asks my friends about me. Tom, Francis Bryan, and others.”
“Jane likes you, George.” Thomas smiles, trying to reassure his son. “It is only natural the girl wants to know all about you. After all, you will be a good catch when the King promotes you, which I am sure he will.”
“Promotion, or no, I will not sleep with her.”
“You will, when you are married – it will be your duty.”
“I have heard reports she never bathes.”
“I am sure that cannot be true.” Thomas Boleyn laughs. “That is your only argument against the match?” He takes another sip of wine and sets the glass back on his worktable.
“Seriously, Father, you cannot make me marry her. She seems a vile girl and her family are far too ambitious.”
“George, if that is your only issue, I will speak with Anne, and when she returns to Court, which she will, if Jane lacks manners, I am sure Anne could have a kind word with her. Besides, Lord Morley has assured me Jane is all the things required to be a Boleyn, and I am sure she does not need educating on the finer points of bathing!”
Anne grips my arm, but I wave her off and focus back on the father/son interaction. Thomas walks around his worktable and stands in front of his son, then pats his shoulder – a blatant effort at reassurance, but George shrugs him off.
Thomas grimaces at this rejection. “What will happen when I am gone, eh? Who will carry on looking after our estates if you have no son and heir?” He tries a heartening smile, but George averts his gaze, continuing to fiddle with the toothpick.
“I know I will need an heir, Father, but it will not be with her.” His neck reddens as his temper flares. He leans closer to Thomas. “I will not marry her.”
“Come now, George.” Thomas holds both hands out. “I have done my best for you. Jane is a pretty little thing.”
“If you want her to sleep with a Boleyn so badly, you sleep with her.”
His father’s jaw drops. I don’t think he can believe what he has just heard.
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