Philippa Gregory 3-Book Tudor Collection 1

by Philippa Gregory

  He tipped his hat to me and took the letter. ‘Make sure it gets to Mistress Anne,’ I said. ‘It is important.’

  We had dinner in the great hall. William was urbane as ever, the perfect courtier, keeping up a stream of news and gossip about the court. Grandmother Boleyn could not be comforted. She was resentful, but she did not dare openly to complain. Who could tell a man that he might not take his wife and children to his home?

  As soon as they brought the candles in she heaved herself to her feet.

  ‘I’m for my bed,’ she said sulkily. William rose to his feet and bowed to her as she left the room.

  Before he sat he reached inside his doublet and took out a letter. I recognised my writing at once. It was my letter to Anne. He tossed it down on the table before me.

  ‘Not very loyal,’ he remarked.

  I picked it up. ‘Not very polite to stop my servants and read my letters.’

  He smiled at me. ‘My servants and my letters,’ he said. ‘You are my wife. Everything that is yours is mine. Everything that is mine I keep. Including the children and the woman who carries my name.’

  I sat opposite him and I put my hands flat on the table. I drew a breath to steady myself. I reminded myself that although I was a woman of only nineteen years, for four and a half of those years I had been the mistress of the King of England, and I had been born and bred a Howard.

  ‘Now hear this, husband,’ I said steadily. ‘What is past, is past. You were happy enough to get your title and your lands and your wealth and the favour of the king, and we all know why those came to you. I have no shame in it, you have no shame in it. Anyone in our position would have been glad of it, and both you and I know that it is no sinecure earning and keeping the king’s favour.’

  William looked taken aback at my sudden frankness.

  ‘The Howards will not fall over this mischance of Wolsey’s. It is Wolsey’s miscalculation, not ours. The game is far from over yet, and if you knew my Uncle Howard as well as I do you would be in no hurry to assume that he is defeated.’

  William nodded.

  ‘I am very sure that our enemies are at our heels, that the Seymours are ready to take our place at a moment’s notice, that already some Seymour girl somewhere in England is being primed to take the king’s eye. That’s always true. There’s always a rival. But right now, whether or not he is free to marry her, Anne’s star is in the ascendancy, and all of us Howards – and you too, husband – serve our own interests best if we support her rise.’

  ‘She looks like she is skating on melting ice,’ he said abruptly. ‘She is trying too hard. She is sweating to keep her place at his side, she never lets up for a moment. Anyone watching carefully could see it.’

  ‘What does it matter who sees it, as long as he does not?’

  William laughed. ‘Because she can’t keep it up. She is dancing him at her fingertip ends, she can’t do that forever. She might have held him till the autumn but no woman can do it forever. No man can be held the way she will have to hold him. She could hold him for weeks; but now Wolsey has failed it might be months. It could be years.’

  I was checked for a moment at the thought of Anne getting old while making merry. ‘But what else can she do?’

  ‘Nothing,’ he said with a wolfish grin. ‘But you and I can go to my house and start to live as a married couple. I want a son who looks like me, not a little blond Tudor. I want a daughter with my dark eyes. And you are going to give them to me.’

  I bowed my head. ‘I won’t be reproached.’

  He shrugged. ‘You will bear whatever treatment I give you. You are my wife, are you not?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Unless you too would like an annulment, since marriage seems to be out of fashion? You could be enclosed in a nunnery if you wish?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then go to my bed,’ he said simply. ‘I shall be up in a minute.’

  I froze at that. I had not thought of it. He looked at me over the top of his cup of wine. ‘What?’

  ‘Can we wait till we get to Norfolk?’

  ‘No,’ he said.

  I undressed slowly, wondering at my own reluctance. I had bedded with the king a dozen times when I felt no desire at all but merely followed his wishes and satisfied him. Every time in this last year when I knew that he desired Anne, I had forced myself to hold him and whisper ‘sweetheart’ and known myself to be a whore – and the man a fool not to know the false coin from the real.

  So I was no thirteen-year-old virgin as I had been when I had first been put to bed with this man to consummate the marriage. But I was not yet a woman of such cynicism that I could prepare without dread for bed with a man who seemed half-enemy. William had a score to settle with me, and I was afraid of him.

  He took his time. I climbed slowly into bed and feigned sleep when the door opened and he came in. I heard him moving around the room, stripping naked and getting into bed beside me. I felt the weight of the covers lift as he pulled them up around his bare shoulders.

  ‘Not asleep then?’

  ‘No,’ I admitted.

  In the darkness his hands came out for me and found my face, stroked my neck to my shoulders, and thence to my waist. I was wearing my linen shift but I could feel the coldness of his hands through the fine cloth. I heard his breathing come a little faster. He pulled me towards him and I yielded, and spread myself ready for him as I always did for Henry. For a moment I checked, thinking that I did not know what to do for any man but Henry.

  ‘You’re not willing?’ he asked.

  ‘Of course I am willing. I am your wife,’ I said levelly.

  I feared he might trap me into a refusal which would allow him to put me aside; but his little sigh of disappointment showed me that he was genuinely hoping for a warmer response. ‘We’ll sleep then.’

  I was so relieved that I dared not say a word in case he changed his mind. I lay perfectly still until he turned his back on me, pulled the covers up over his shoulders, thumped his head down on the pillows and was quiet. Then, and only then, did I let my belly unknot and wiped the insincere Howard smile from my face. I let myself drift into sleep. I had survived another night, I was still at Hever, the Howards had everything to play for. Anything might happen tomorrow.

  We were woken by a knocking on the door. I was up and out of bed before William could wake and catch my hand. I opened the door and said sharply: ‘Hush. My lord is sleeping,’ as if that were my only concern and not that I was determined to get out of his bed as quickly as possible.

  ‘Urgent message from Mistress Anne,’ the servant said and offered me a letter.

  I dearly wanted to throw on a cloak and read it far away from William but he was awake and sitting up. ‘Our dear sister,’ he said with a mocking smile. ‘And what does she say?’

  I had no choice but to open the letter before him and hope to God that Anne was thinking of someone else for once in her selfish life.

  Sister,

  The king and I bid you and your husband come to meet us at Richmond where we will all be merry.

  Anne

  William held out his hand for the letter. I handed it over.

  ‘She guessed I was coming for you when I left court,’ he observed. I said nothing. ‘And so hip-hop, with one bound you are free of me,’ he said bitterly. ‘And we are back where we were.’

  He had spoken my very thought but behind the hardness of his tone I saw his hurt. Cuckold’s horns are not a comfortable headdress and he had been wearing them now for five years. Slowly I went to the bed. I put out my hand to him. ‘I am your wedded wife,’ I said gently. ‘And I never forgot it, though our lives took us far apart. If we ever have to be married in very truth, William, you will find me a good wife to you.’

  He looked up at me. ‘Is this a Howard speaking who fears the turning of the tide and thinks that life as Lady Carey would be a safer bet than being the other Boleyn girl when the first Boleyn girl is ruined?’

  His g
uess was so precise that I had to turn my head rather than risk him seeing the truth in my eyes. ‘Oh, William,’ I said reproachfully.

  He drew me down to him and turned my face towards him with his finger under my chin. ‘Dearest wife,’ he said sarcastically.

  I closed my eyes rather than meet his scrutiny and then, to my surprise, felt the warmth of his face and tender, gentle little kisses on my lips. I felt desire well up in me like a long-forgotten spring. I put my hands around his neck and pulled him a little closer.

  ‘I made a bad beginning last night,’ he said gently. ‘So not now, and not here. But perhaps somewhere soon, don’t you think, little wife?’

  I smiled up at him, hiding my relief at not being taken to Norfolk. ‘Somewhere soon,’ I agreed. ‘Whenever you wish, William.’

  Autumn 1527

  Anne at Richmond was queen in all but name. She had new apartments, which were adjacent to the king’s, she had ladies in waiting, she had a dozen new gowns, she had jewels, she had a couple of hunters to ride out with the king, she sat with him when his counsellors discussed the matters of the country with him, she had her own chair at his side. Only in the great hall when the true queen came in to dinner was Anne demoted to a table on the floor of the hall while Katherine sat down to dinner in her majesty.

  I was to sleep in Anne’s apartments, partly to give her countenance so that no-one might think that the king’s constant companionship meant that they were lovers, but in truth, to help her keep him at arm’s length. He was desperate to have her, arguing that since they were betrothed they might bed. Anne played every trick she could summon. She protested her virginity and said that she would never forgive herself if she gave away her maidenhead before marriage, though God knew how much she desired him. She said that she would never forgive herself if she did not come before him on their wedding night a maid untouched – though God knew how much she desired him. She said that if he loved her as much as he said he did he would love the holy purity of her soul – though God knew la la la – and she said that she was afraid, that she both yearned for and shrank from him, that she needed time.

  ‘How long can it take?’ she snarled at George and me. ‘For God’s sake! For some damn clerk to ride to Rome, get a paper signed and ride back? How long can it take?’

  We were tucked away in our bedroom at the back of her privy chamber, the only private place in the whole of the palace. Everywhere else we were on unending public show. Everyone watched Anne for the slightest clue that the king was losing interest, or that he had finally had her. She was scanned by a hundred eyes for any sign of either desertion or pregnancy. George and I felt like her bodyguard some days, on other days like today we felt like jailers. She was prowling up and down in the small space, swishing between bed and window, unable to stop moving, unable to stop muttering.

  George caught her hands and brought her to a standstill. One glance over her head warned me to grab her from behind if she went into one of her rages.

  ‘Anne, be calm. We have to go out and watch the boatmen race at any moment. You have to be calm.’

  She quivered in his grip and then the anger went out of her and her shoulders slumped. ‘I’m so tired,’ she whispered.

  ‘I know,’ he said steadily. ‘But this could go on for a long while yet, Anne. You’re playing for the greatest prize in the world. You have to prepare yourself for a long game of skill.’

  ‘If she would only die!’ she suddenly flared up.

  George’s glance went at once to the solid wooden door. ‘Hush. She might,’ he said. ‘Or Wolsey might have pulled it off. He could be sailing up the river right now, and you could be wed tomorrow and in the king’s bed tomorrow night and pregnant the next morning. Be at peace, Anne. Everything rests on you keeping your looks.’

  ‘And your temper,’ I supplemented quietly.

  ‘You dare advise me?’

  ‘He won’t stand for tantrums,’ I warned her. ‘He’s spent all his married life with Katherine and she never raised so much as an eyebrow at him, let alone her voice. He’ll let you go far because he’s mad for you. But he won’t stand for one of your scenes.’

  She looked as if she might flare up again, but then she nodded as she acknowledged the sense of it. ‘Yes, I know. That’s why I need you two.’

  We both stepped a little closer to her, George still grasping her hands, and I put my hands on her hips and held her tightly.

  ‘I know,’ George said. ‘We’re in this together. This is for all of us: Boleyns and Howards. We all rise or fall on this. We’re all waiting and playing the long game. You have to lead the charge, Anne. But we’re all behind you.’

  She nodded and turned to the new large mirror mounted on the wall, reflecting the light from the gardens and the river outside. She pushed back her hood, she straightened the pearl necklace. She turned her head and looked sideways at her reflection and tried that mischievous, promising smile. ‘I’m ready,’ she said.

  We made way for her as if she were queen already. As she went out of the door with her head held high George and I exchanged a swift look of players who have pushed the principal on stage, and we followed behind her.

  My husband was on the royal barge to watch the boatmen race and he smiled at me and made a place beside him on the bench. George joined the young men of the court, Francis Weston among them. I glanced to see that Anne was seated beside the king. By the flighty turn of her head and her sideways glance at him I could see that she was in full control of herself and of him, once more.

  ‘Walk with me in the gardens before dinner,’ my husband said quietly in my ear.

  At once I was alert. ‘Why?’

  He laughed at me. ‘Oh, you Howards! Because I like your company, because I ask it of you. Because we are man and wife and we may live as man and wife any day now.’

  I smiled ruefully. ‘I don’t forget it.’

  ‘Perhaps you will learn to anticipate it with pleasure?’

  ‘Perhaps,’ I said sweetly.

  He looked out over the river where the afternoon sun was sparkling on the water. The boats of the noblemen all manned by their liveried rowers were drawn up under the starter’s orders. They made a colourful sight with the oars held high like trumpets, waiting for the command to start. They all looked towards the king, who took a scarlet silk kerchief and gave it to Anne. She stepped up to the edge of the royal barge and held it high over her head. For a moment she held the pose, well aware that all eyes were on her. From where I was sitting with William we could see her in profile, her head flung back, her hood well back from her face, her pale skin flushing with pleasure, her dark green gown tight around her breasts and slim waist. She was the very essence of desire. She dropped the red kerchief and the boats leaped forward under the thrust of the oars. She did not go back to her seat at the king’s side, she had a moment where she forgot to play the queen. She leaned over the rail so that she could see as the Howard boat pulled ahead of the Seymours.

  ‘Come on, Howards!’ she suddenly shouted. ‘Come on!’

  As if they heard her call above all the other shouting from the riverbank the rowers quickened their stroke and the boat surged forward, paused, and surged forward again to a quicker tempo than the Seymours’. I was on my feet now, everybody was cheering, the royal barge dipped precariously as the whole court forgot its dignity and crowded onto one side and yelled for their favourite house. The king himself, laughing like a boy again with his arm around Anne’s waist, was watching, careful not to shout for one lord or another, but clearly willing the Howards to win since that would delight the girl in his arms.

  They went faster, the oars a blur of splashing water and light, and at the line they were unquestionably half a length before the Seymours. There was a great drum roll and a blast of trumpets to tell the Seymours that it was all over for them, that we had won the boat race, that we had won the race to be the first family in the kingdom, and that it was our girl in the arms of the king with her eye on the thr
one of England.

  Cardinal Wolsey came home, not in triumph with an annulment in his pocket, but in disgrace, and found that he could not even talk to Henry alone. The man who had managed every single thing from the amount of wine served at banquets to the terms of the peace with France and Spain found that he had to make his report before Anne and Henry, side by side, as if they were joint monarchs. The girl he had scolded for unchastity and for aiming too high sat at the right hand of the King of England and looked at him with narrowed eyes as if she were not very impressed with what he had to say.

  The cardinal was too old and wily a courtier to let any surprise show on his face. He bowed very pleasantly to Anne and made his report. Anne smiled very equably and listened, leaned forward, whispered a little poison in Henry’s ear, and listened some more.

  ‘Idiot!’ she stormed in our little room. I was sitting on the bed, my feet drawn out of the way. She was on her track running from window to bedpost like one of the lions in the Tower, I thought idly that she would leave a mark on the polished floorboards and we could show it to those who like relicts and signs. We could call it ‘Anne’s Martyrdom to Time’.

  ‘He’s a fool, and we have got nowhere!’

  ‘What does he say?’

  ‘That it is a serious matter to put aside the aunt of the man who holds the Pope and half of Europe in his grasp, and that, God willing, Charles of Spain will be defeated by Italy and France together when they go to war, and that England should promise support but not risk a man nor loose an arrow.’

  ‘We wait?’

  She threw her hands above her head and screamed. ‘We wait? No! You can wait! The cardinal can wait! Henry can wait! But I have to dance on the spot, I have to be seen to make progress while actually making none. I have to retain the illusion of things happening, I have to make Henry feel more and more intensely loved, I have to give him the belief that things are getting better and better because he is a king and all his life everyone has told him that he shall have the very best. He has been promised cream and gold and honey, I cannot give him “wait”. How am I to keep going? How am I to do it?’