Philippa Gregory 3-Book Tudor Collection 1

by Philippa Gregory

  In the middle days of March she swallowed her pride and sent me to summon our uncle.

  ‘I cannot come now, I have some business to attend to. You may tell the queen I will come to her this afternoon.’

  ‘I did not think that one could tell a queen to wait,’ I observed.

  In the afternoon when he came, Anne greeted him without any sign of displeasure and drew him into the bay of a window so that they might talk alone. I was close enough to hear them speak, though neither of them ever raised their voices above a polite hiss.

  ‘I need your help against the Seymours,’ she said. ‘We have to get rid of Jane.’

  He shrugged regretfully. ‘My niece, you have not always been as helpful to me as I might have wished. There was a moment only a little while ago when you accused me to the king himself. If you were no longer queen I do not think you could become a Howard again.’

  ‘I am a Boleyn girl, a Howard girl,’ she whispered, her hand on the golden ‘B’ at her throat.

  ‘There are many Howard girls,’ he said easily. ‘My wife the duchess keeps house with half a dozen of them at Lambeth, cousins of yours, all as pretty as you, as Mary, as Madge. All as high-spirited, as hot-blooded. When he is weary of a milksop there will be a Howard girl to warm his bed, there always will be another one.’

  ‘But I am the queen! Not another girl in waiting.’

  He nodded. ‘I will make you an offer. If George gets the Order of the Garter in April then I will stand by you. See if you can achieve that for the family and we will see what the family can do for you.’

  She hesitated. ‘I can ask it for him.’

  ‘Do that,’ my uncle counselled. ‘If you can bring some good to the family then we can make a new contract with you, defend you against your enemies. But this time you must remember, Anne, who your master is.’

  She bit the inside of her lip against defiance, she curtsied to him, and she kept her head down.

  On 23 April the king gave the Order of the Garter to Sir Nicholas Carew, a friend of the Seymours, nominated by them. My brother George was overlooked. That night at the feast given to celebrate the new awards, my uncle and Sir John Seymour were seated side by side to share a trencher of good meats, and got on together wonderfully well.

  Next day Jane Seymour was sitting with us in the queen’s apartments for once, and so the queen’s rooms were abuzz with the full complement of the court. The musicians had been called, there was to be dancing. The king was not expected, Anne had challenged him to a game of cards and he had replied coolly that he was much engaged with business.

  ‘What’s he doing?’ she asked George when he came to her with the king’s refusal.

  ‘I don’t know. He’s seeing the bishops. And he’s seeing most of the lords one by one.’

  ‘About me?’

  Carefully, neither of them looked towards Jane who was the centre of attention in the queen’s own rooms.

  ‘I don’t know,’ George said miserably. ‘I suppose I’d be the last to know. But he did ask what men visit you daily.’

  Anne looked quite blank. ‘Well, they all do,’ she said. ‘I am the queen.’

  ‘Certain names have been mentioned,’ George said. ‘Henry and Francis among them.’

  Anne laughed. ‘Henry Norris haunts the court for the benefit of Madge.’ She turned around and saw him leaning over Madge’s shoulder ready to turn the page for her as she sang. ‘Sir Henry! Come here, if you please!’

  With a word to Madge he came across to the queen and dropped with mock gallantry to one knee. ‘I obey!’ he said.

  ‘It is time you were married, Sir Henry,’ Anne said with pretended severity. ‘I cannot have you hanging about my rooms bringing me into disrepute. You must make Madge an offer, I won’t have my ladies other than perfectly behaved.’

  He laughed outright, as well he might at the thought of Madge being perfectly behaved.

  ‘She is my shield. My heart yearns elsewhere.’

  Anne shook her head. ‘I don’t want pretty speeches,’ she said. ‘You must make a proposal of marriage to Madge and have done.’

  ‘She is the moon but you are the sun,’ Henry replied.

  I rolled my eyes at George.

  ‘Don’t you sometimes want to kick him?’ he whispered loudly.

  ‘The man’s an idiot,’ I said. ‘And this will get us nowhere.’

  ‘I cannot offer Mistress Shelton a whole heart and so I will offer her none,’ Henry said, rescuing himself from a whole tangle of politesse. ‘My heart belongs to the queen of all the hearts of England.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Anne said shortly. ‘You can go back to turning pages for the moon.’

  Norris laughed, got to his feet and kissed her hand. ‘But I cannot afford gossip in my rooms,’ Anne warned. ‘The king has turned severe since his fall.’

  Norris kissed her hand again. ‘You shall never have grounds for complaint of me,’ he promised her. ‘I would lay down my life for you.’

  He minced back to Madge who looked up and met my eye. I made a grimace at her and she grinned back. Nothing would ever make that girl behave like a lady.

  George leaned over Anne’s shoulder. ‘You can’t scotch rumours one by one. You have to live as though none of them matter at all.’

  ‘I will scotch every single one,’ she swore. ‘And you find who the king is meeting, and what they are saying about me.’

  George could not discover what was happening. He sent me to my father who only looked away and told me to ask my uncle for news. I found my uncle in the stable yard, looking over a new mare he was thinking of buying. The April sunshine was hot in the sheltered yard. I waited in the shade of the gateway until he was done, then I drew close to him.

  ‘Uncle, the king seems much engaged with Master Cromwell, and with the Master Treasurer, and with you. The queen is wondering what business is taking so much time.’

  For once he did not turn from me with his bitter smile. He looked me straight in the face and his dark eyes were filled with something I had never seen in him before: pity.

  ‘I should get your son home from his tutors,’ he advised quietly. ‘He is taught with Henry Norris’s boy at the Cistercians, is he not?’

  ‘Yes,’ I said, confused at the change of tack.

  ‘I should have nothing to do with Norris, or Brereton, or Weston, or Wyatt, if I were you. And if they sent any letters to you, or love poems or nonsense or tokens, I should burn them.’

  ‘I am a married woman, and I love my husband,’ I said, bewildered.

  ‘That is your safeguard,’ he agreed. ‘Now go. What I know could not help you, and it burdens me alone. Go, Mary. But if I were you I would get both my children into my keeping. And I would leave court.’

  I did not go to George and Anne who were anxiously waiting for me, I went straight to the king’s rooms to find my husband. He was waiting in the presence chamber, the king was in his private rooms with the inner core of advisors that had kept him busy indoors for all these spring days. As soon as William saw me enter he came across the room and led me into the corridor.

  ‘Bad news?’

  ‘No news at all, it is like a riddle.’

  ‘Whose riddle is it?’

  ‘My uncle’s. He tells me to have nothing to do with Henry Norris, William Brereton, Francis Weston or Thomas Wyatt. When I said I did not, he told me to take Henry away from his tutors and keep my children by me and leave court.’

  William thought for a moment. ‘Where’s the riddle?’

  ‘In what he means.’

  He shook his head. ‘Your uncle would always be a riddle to me,’ he said. ‘I shan’t think what he means, I shall act on his advice. I shall go at once and fetch Henry home to us.’

  In two strides he was back in the king’s room, he touched a man on his arm and asked him to excuse him if the king called for him, he would be back within four days. Then he was out in the corridor with me, striding towards the stairs so fast that I had to run
to keep up with him.

  ‘Why? What d’you think is going to happen?’ I asked, thoroughly frightened.

  ‘I don’t know. All I know is that if your uncle says that our son should not be with Henry Norris’s boy, then I shall get him home. And when I have fetched him here, we are all leaving for Rochford. I don’t wait to be warned twice.’

  The big door to the yard was open and he ran outside. I snatched up the hem of my gown and ran after him. He shouted in the stable yard and one of the Howard lads came tumbling out and was sent running to tack up William’s horse.

  ‘I cannot take him from his tutors without Anne’s permission,’ I said hastily.

  ‘I’ll just get him,’ William said. ‘We can get permission after – if we need it. Events are going too fast for me. I want us to have your boy safe.’ He caught me in his arms and kissed me firmly on the mouth. ‘Sweetheart, I hate to leave you here, in the middle of it all.’

  ‘But what could happen?’

  He kissed me harder. ‘God knows. But your uncle does not issue warnings lightly. I shall fetch our boy and then we will all get clear of this before it drags us down.’

  ‘I’ll run and fetch your travelling cape.’

  ‘I’ll take one of the grooms’.’ He went quickly into the tack room and came out with a common cape of fustian.

  ‘Are you in so much of a hurry you can’t wait for your cape?’

  ‘I’d rather go now,’ he said simply, and that stolid certainty made me more afraid than I had ever been before for the safety of my son.

  ‘Have you got money?’

  ‘Enough,’ he grinned. ‘I just won a purse of gold off Sir Edward Seymour. A good cause, isn’t it?’

  ‘How long d’you think you will be?’

  He thought for a moment. ‘Three days, maybe four. No more. I’ll ride without stopping. Can you wait four days for me?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘If matters get worse then take Catherine and the baby and go. I will bring Henry to you at Rochford, without fail.’

  ‘Yes.’

  One more hard kiss and then William put his foot in the stirrup and leaped up into the saddle. The horse was fresh and eager but he held her to a walk as they went under the archway and out onto the road. I shaded my eyes with my hand and watched him go. In the bright sunlight of the stable yard I shivered as if the only man who could save me was leaving.

  Jane Seymour did not reappear in the queen’s apartments and a strange quietness fell over the sunny rooms. The maids still came in and did their work, the fire was lit, the chairs arranged, the tables laid with fruit and water and wine, everything was prepared for company but none came.

  Anne and I, my daughter Catherine, Aunt Anne, and Madge Shelton sat uneasily in the big echoing rooms. My mother never came, she had withdrawn from us as completely as if we had never been born. We never saw my father. My uncle looked through us as if we were panes of Venetian glass.

  ‘I feel like a ghost,’ Anne said. We were walking by the river, she was leaning on George’s arm. I was walking behind her with Sir Francis Weston, Madge was behind me with Sir William Brereton. I could hardly speak for anxiety. I did not know why my uncle had named these men to me. I did not know what secrets they brought with them. I felt as if there were a conspiracy and at any moment a trap might be sprung and I had walked into it, knowing nothing.

  ‘They are holding some kind of hearing,’ George said. ‘I got that much from a page who went in to pour the wine for them. Secretary Cromwell, our uncle, the Duke of Suffolk, the rest of them.’

  Carefully, my brother and sister did not exchange a glance. ‘They can have nothing against me,’ Anne said.

  ‘No,’ George said. ‘But they can trump up charges. Think of what was said against Queen Katherine.’

  Anne suddenly rounded on him. ‘It’s the dead baby,’ she said suddenly. ‘Isn’t it? And the testimony of that foul old midwife with her mad lies.’

  George nodded. ‘Must be. They have nothing else.’

  She whirled on her heel and took off towards the palace. ‘I’ll show them!’ she cried.

  George and I ran after her. ‘Show them what?’

  ‘Anne!’ I cried. ‘Don’t be too hasty!’

  ‘I have crept around this palace like a little mouse afraid of my own shadow for three months!’ she exclaimed. ‘You advised me to be sweet. I have been sweet! Now I shall defend myself. They are holding a secret hearing to try me in secret! I shall make them speak out! I shan’t be condemned by a pack of old men who have always hated me. I shall show them!’

  She ran across the grass to the doorway into the palace. George and I froze for a moment, and then we turned to the others. ‘Do go on walking,’ I said wildly.

  ‘We will go to the queen,’ George said.

  Francis put out a quick instinctive hand to keep George with him.

  ‘It’s all right,’ George reassured him. ‘But I’d better go with her.’

  George and I ran across the grass and followed Anne into the palace. She was not outside the king’s presence chamber and the soldier on the door said she had not been admitted. We drew a blank and waited, wondering where she had gone, when we heard her steps running on the stairs. She had the Princess Elizabeth in her arms, gurgling and laughing at being snatched up from her nursery, watching the flicker of light as Anne ran with her.

  She was unbuttoning the child’s little gown as she ran. She nodded to the soldier who flung open the door for her and she was into the presence chamber before they realised she was upon them.

  ‘What am I accused of?’ she demanded of the king as she was half-over the threshold.

  Awkwardly he rose from the head of the table. Anne’s angry black gaze raked the noblemen seated around him.

  ‘Who dares say a word against me to my face?’

  ‘Anne,’ the king started.

  She turned on him. ‘You have been filled with lies and poison against me,’ she said rapidly. ‘I have a right to better treatment. I have been a good wife to you, I have loved you better than any other woman has ever done.’

  He leaned on the back of his heavy carved chair. ‘Anne …’

  ‘I have not brought a son to full term yet but that is not my fault,’ she said passionately. ‘Katherine did not either. Did you call her a witch for it?’

  There was a hiss and a murmur at her naming the most potent word in that casual way. I saw one fist clench with the thumb between second and third finger, making the sign of the cross, to ward off witchcraft.

  ‘But I have given you a princess,’ Anne cried out. ‘The most beautiful princess that ever was. With your hair and your eyes, undeniably your child. When she was born you said that it was early days and we would have sons. You were not afraid of your shadow then, Henry!’

  She had half-stripped the little girl and now she held her out for him to see. Henry flinched back though the child called out ‘Papa!’ and held out her arms for him.

  ‘Her skin is perfect, she has not a blemish on her body, not a mark anywhere! No-one can tell me that this is not a child blessed by God. No-one can tell me that she is not going to be the greatest princess this country has ever had! I have brought you this blessing, this beautiful child! And I shall bring you more! Can you look at her and not know that she will have a brother as strong and as beautiful as she is?’

  Princess Elizabeth looked around at the stern faces. Her lower lip trembled. Anne held her in her arms, her face bright with invitation and challenge. Henry looked at them both, then he turned his head away from his wife, and he ignored his little daughter.

  I had thought that Anne would fly into a rage that he did not have the courage to face them, but when he turned his head away the passion suddenly went out of her as if she knew that his mind was made up, and that she would suffer for his stubborn wilful stupidity.

  ‘Oh my God, Henry, what have you done?’ she whispered.

  He said only one word. He said ‘Norfolk!’ and my uncl
e rose from his seat at the table, and looked around for George and for me, hovering in the doorway, not knowing what we should do.

  ‘Take your sister away,’ he said to us. ‘You should never have allowed her to come here.’

  Silently, we stepped into the room. I took little Elizabeth from Anne’s arms and she came to me with a cry of pleasure and settled on my hip, her arm around my neck. George put one arm around Anne’s waist and drew her from the room.

  I looked back as we went out. Henry had not moved. He kept his face turned away from us Boleyns and our little princess until the door shut behind us and we were closed out, and still we did not know what they were discussing, what they had decided, nor what would happen next.

  We went back to Anne’s rooms, the nursemaid came and took Elizabeth away. I released her with regret, conscious of my desire to hold my own baby. I was thinking of William, wondering how far he was down the road to fetch my son. The sense of foreboding hung over the palace like a storm.

  As we opened the door to her private room, a lithe figure sprang forward and Anne screamed and fell back. George had a dagger at the ready, he nearly stabbed before he stopped himself.

  ‘Smeaton!’ he said. ‘What the devil are you doing here?’

  ‘I came to see the queen,’ the lad said.

  ‘For God’s sake, I nearly ran you through. You shouldn’t be here without invitation. Get out, lad. Go!’

  ‘I have to ask … I have to say …’

  ‘Out,’ George said.

  ‘Will you bear witness for me, Your Majesty?’ Smeaton cried over his shoulder as George thrust him towards the door. ‘They called me in and asked me so many questions.’