“Oh my beloved! You will not be sorry you have finally acquiesced. I will be your ever-faithful servant, serving only you, sweetheart—of that you can be assured,” said the king as he lifted her skirt and began to use his fingers to discover her secrets. For a few moments, she allowed this, feeling the plump hands growing more and more bold. He was not gentle and she cried out.
“Yes, my dearest—I know how you long for my manhood—you shall have it! Upon my word you shall!” panted the king.
At that moment, a small commotion nearby interrupted the king’s explorations. Suddenly, Norris stood before them.
“Oh … I am terribly sorry … forgive me, Majesty! I was merely walking in the gardens when I heard a cry—methought a lady was in distress!” said Norris, his face bloodred and his eyes finding no safe place to land.
“Fool! Miscreant! You heard no cries of ravage here! Not all must take what they desire—for some, such plums are given freely! Be gone! I will speak with you in my chambers!” said the king.
Norris bowed, keeping his eyes to the ground. He dared not look at Madge.
“Lady Margaret, I do beg your pardon for such a gross interruption. I will see to it Norris keeps what he has discovered to himself. I would not impugn your standing at court,” said the king.
“Thank you, Majesty. I would hate to hear what rumors Norris might spread about me, though I am still his intended wife,” said Madge, running her hands up and down the king’s chest.
“I think you love him not, lady,” said the king, his breath coming in short gasps.
“I fear you know me too well, Majesty. I love him not one whit,” said Madge.
“Then perhaps I shall release you. Not now but later. I will make a better match for you,” said the king.
Madge knew he meant he would match her with someone else, once he was finished with her. She kissed him on the cheek, his beard still rough.
“Thank you, Your Grace. I will be happy on that day!” she said.
“I will not see you again until three days hence, milady. Matters of state must have my attentions. But on that glorious day when you yield to me, I will send Sir Weston to fetch you. Follow him to my barge and I will meet you there. Take care the queen does not get wind of this or we are undone,” said the king.
* * *
Madge hurried immediately to the queen’s bedchamber.
“Your Majesty, the king wishes for me to meet him at his barge three days hence. We are to sail down the Thames to a house which he keeps for such purposes. I am sorry to tell you these things, my queen,” said Madge as she brushed the queen’s hair.
“It matters not. My heart is steeled against all feeling, Margaret. I have set this act in motion and I will not shrink from it because it pains me. You have His Majesty’s ear at present. As a result, he is ever kind to me, though he has not come to my bed. Mayhap he has forgotten all about Mistress Seymour by this time, though I know how his mind holds onto a thought once it has been planted. But, if things move forward as I hope they will, he will return to my bed at your own request. And when he does, I will get a prince this time! I know this must be so—I believe our Lord has ordained it. So, lady, have courage. I know I shall,” said the queen.
“Are you certain this is the only way to manage the king, dear cousin? I feel like a lamb led to slaughter—he is so unseemly and the thought of the act so distressing to me. I would beg Your Majesty to reconsider, to find another way, for this is loathsome to me,” said Madge with as much force as she could command.
“Lady Margaret, please remember you speak not only of my husband but of your king. Such rude sayings I will not tolerate. You may not love His Majesty but I do. And I will not hear him disparaged by such as you. Do you not think I have racked my brains trying to find my way back to His Majesty? Think you this is pleasant for me to contemplate? My husband in your arms? We do this because we are forced to it! If I had my way, Mistress Seymour would be sent forever to Wulfhall and Harry and I should remove from court and live in peace in a little cottage somewhere. But that is not to be—we are at court—the deadliest place in the land. Have courage, girl! We may both survive this yet!” said the queen in a steely voice.
“As you will, Your Majesty,” said Madge, once again resigning herself to her fate.
Madge began to rub the queen’s shoulders, seeing that she was thinner than before. Such a lack of flesh did not suit her well. Madge saw lines around her eyes and mouth. More gray strands mottled her hair.
“Lady Margaret, there are things I would tell you about the king and his … person,” said the queen slowly, as if struggling to find the exact words she needed.
“Yes, Your Grace?” said Madge.
“Sometimes, as I have said before, Harry is unable to complete the lovemaking. He loses his stamina. If this should happen while he is with you, do not act unhappy. Remain calm. There are certain things you can do to help revive him. Sometimes these secrets work and sometimes they do not,” said the queen.
“What secrets, Your Grace?” said Madge. She hoped the queen would not give her a potion to slip to His Majesty. She did not feel confident she could act with such stealth.
“Certain … ways I learned in France … the ladies of the court there whispered many such things to me of love, actions a woman can do which the English know not—tell no one of them,” said the queen.
Then the queen began to explain what she had learned while serving in the court of Francis I. “There are other places you can receive the king if he fails to gain entry to your womanhood. You can place his person in your own mouth and please him in that way. This usually works, especially if you tease him with the tip of your tongue and take gentle hold of his jewels. He has come around to this technique more than once, though he complains he abhors my French lovemaking,” said the queen.
After describing in great detail several other acts the queen wished Lady Margaret to perform, Madge flung down the hairbrush.
“Majesty, enough! I cannot think of doing such to the king’s person. I would not have the stomach for it. Nor can I think the king would like such sinful things. He would think me a bawd of the worst sort,” said Madge as the queen explained.
“No, no, Lady Margaret! These are the actions that please men most. Such tactics have been used in France for years and are only now coming to England. Besides, he will not tell of their use as he is too modest,” said the queen. “We can only hope these secrets will have the desired effect. If they do not, it may mean the end of the king’s love for you—he cannot stomach a woman who has known him to fail,” said the queen. “His aversion to me began when he could no longer play the man.”
* * *
The day before Madge was to set sail up the Thames to become the king’s mistress, she felt the need to get away from the court and the heavy business at hand. The queen granted her permission to take Shadow for the entire afternoon, and Madge intended to use her free time to ponder all that was happening and garner her courage for what lay ahead. She went to Cate’s room to get her dog.
“Maddie-girl, come quickly. I would a word with you,” said Cate, her face flushed and her eyebrows knit in worry.
“Good Cate, what is wrong?” said Madge, rushing to pet Shadow and attach her tether.
“I know you love Master Brandon truly but child, what are you doing with His Majesty? Every scalawag in the castle, from scullery maid to the archbishop, is talking about you as if you were the biggest whore in Christendom. This is not how I have taught you, Maddie. You know ’tis wrong,” said Cate as she fingered her rosary.
“Sit down, dear Cate. There is more to this than you can know. I ask that you trust me. All I do, I do for our future and our queen,” said Madge calmly.
“A fine way to serve the queen, bewitching her king,” mumbled Cate.
“I cannot tell you more, Cate. You must hold on to the belief that I treasure your teachings, but I do what I must. It will turn out for the good, I promise,” said Madge. “N
ow, I’m off! Shadow and I will wander the forest and run until we are without breath. Take heart, Cate—I will not disappoint you,” said Madge, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
“Humph,” grumbled Cate.
* * *
The sun was directly overhead when Madge and Shadow hurried through the gardens out into the surrounding meadows toward the king’s hunting forest that lay to the west of the castle. A few sheep dotted the hillside with its sweet-smelling grasses, while the poultry yard with its coops lay to the south. Madge could barely see the hens and peacocks, ducks and geese as they pecked at the corn scattered by the young boys who tended them. At the top of the hill, the meadow gave way to forest. She and Arthur had walked this way many times over the winter and spring, taking any chance they could to escape the castle and seek the peace of the trees and sky. Deep in the woods, they had found a creek that bubbled over stones and fallen limbs. At one point, a small waterfall spilled into a deep pool, and, next to the pool was a large tree trunk that had been felled by a storm. Arthur had carved their initials into its bark and encircled them with a heart. He did it in such a way as to conceal their true identities, but Madge knew what the cipher meant. She hoped to lead Shadow to that place where Madge would then trace the lover’s knot with her fingers while Shadow drank the cool water.
Madge looked behind her before she entered the wood. She wanted to make certain no one had followed her. The meadow was clear of anyone save the sheep and one shepherd boy.
“Come, Shadow. ’Tis lovely in the woods. And you shall find water soon,” said Madge. She leaned over the dog and untied its tether. “Run, girl! Run to your heart’s content!” she said as she raced after the dog. Leaping and bounding over trees and roots and boulders, Shadow moved like a spirit set free and Madge followed as best she could. Soon, she was off the trail to the creek.
“Here, girl. This way,” she called. After a minute’s wait, Shadow leapt back into view and trotted to Madge. Madge then began to run in the direction of the pool. Shadow followed. Finally, they arrived at Madge’s favorite spot and Shadow drank from the pool in great gulps. Madge bent down and cupped her hands so she, too, could drink. Then, she sat upon the great tree trunk and found Arthur’s heart. She began drawing her finger around the familiar trace. But something was wrong. Someone had gouged out the initials and made a mockery of the heart. Madge felt suddenly afraid.
Who could have found their secret place? And who would have taken a knife to the symbol of their love? Madge looked around. She saw nothing but the new green leaves on the trees and an occasional ground squirrel. A fairly big fish swam across the pool to hide in a shady spot. Shadow sat by her feet, after circling several times. Content that no one was near, she relaxed. Probably some young knave had been walking through the woods and had come upon the heart. Too young for love himself, he thought himself old enough to carve. That was the explanation, surely.
Madge allowed herself to relax and began to ponder her trip up the Thames to the king’s house in London—had he called it Miraflore? She hoped she could go through with the deed; she had steeled herself for it. Though the king was gallant and had been generous and kind to her, she did not love him, nor did he stir her feelings in the least. She tried to imagine what he would look like without his luxurious clothing. She thought of an enormous fat chicken that smelled of putrid flesh and had foul breath. She shuddered.
“What shall I do, Shadow? Would that I were a dog and did not care who rutted with me … I feel my soul as well as my body shall be defiled. Yet, I must obey the queen—she is God’s anointed, as is the king. It seems I have no choice.…”
She thought of Arthur and how he might feel, knowing she was giving herself to another. The price seemed too high. But if she could get the king’s ear, even for a brief while, and encourage him to seek pleasure once again with his own wife, all would be worth it. Surely, this time, the queen would bear a son and her place would be beyond any threat. Madge and Arthur would be married and well away from court. She thought of them together and lost herself in a dream of love.
Shadow brought her up short when the dog emitted a low growl. Madge scanned the woods, looking for what had her dog’s attention. Shadow stood and continued to growl, the fur on her haunches standing up.
“Lady Margaret! Well met!” said Norris.
Madge jumped to her feet and she could feel Shadow’s body against her skirts, solid and taut, ready for a fight.
“Sir Norris. I am surprised to find you here in the forest,” said Madge, her throat tightening.
“Dearest lady, I come here often—I find the solitude soothes me. I have several times brought along a lady to soothe me as well,” Norris said.
“I, too, enjoy exploring these woods. But alas, ’tis time for me to return to the queen—she bid me not stay away too long,” said Madge, starting for the path.
“No, Margaret. Tarry a while with me,” said Norris, catching her arm.
“Though I would count it a pleasure to do so, sir, I cannot,” said Madge, trying to loosen his hold on her arm.
“Have you seen that pretty carving on yon trunk? Methought it was a lover’s knot. And that the lovers so immortalized there were you and that Brandon bastard! But I cannot imagine you would lower yourself to love such as he,” said Norris. “Not when you have the chance for me, lady.” He pulled her to him and tried to kiss her.
“Sir, we have played this game before. I would have thought you a wiser man than to try playing it again,” said Madge, forcing her voice to sound haughty and brave.
“Aye, we have—and I was winning until the king began his sport. Now, you are no longer a sweet maid, but the king’s whore. A whore with one is a whore with all,” said Norris as he pulled her to him again, staring down at her with what seemed a contained fury.
“My virtue is still intact, sir, make no mistake. And if you take it from me by force, the king will hear of it. He will separate your head from your shoulders!” said Madge. Shadow was growling, going at Norris, though not biting him yet.
“No doubt of that, Lady Margaret. I am not foolish enough to sully what belongs to the king and I am sure you serve His Majesty well enough. But he will tire of you soon, as he has all the others. And when he does, I shall then have what I list,” he said. He still held her close to him, his grasp on her arms firm and unyielding.
“If you release me and go on your way, I shall not mention our encounter to His Majesty. Unhand me!” said Madge as Shadow continued growling. For a moment, they stood still as statues and Madge wondered if Norris had lost his senses—she thought he might try to take her even yet, though it would mean his head.
Madge heard a slight rustle through the forest, as if someone were making his way toward them. A shudder of fear raised the hairs on her arms. For though the woods belonged to the king, often madmen and murderers sought concealment in the shadows of the great trees that grew so large a grown man could hide in the hollows of their trunks. Robbers and cutthroats were known to accost weary travelers in these very woods, as Arthur had cautioned her many times. But when she was with Arthur, she had not known fear.
“Norris! On your feet, man, and take your blade,” said a voice.
Norris grabbed his sword.
“Brandon! You have naught in this,” said Norris.
“I have everything in it. You may as well know it now—she is my beloved and has promised herself to me. She loves you not,” said Arthur.
“Would you defy the king? He has given her to me—I have his word on it,” said Norris.
“I will defy the whole world for her! Now either fight or run, Sir Norris—your choice,” said Arthur.
“Your skill with the sword is well-known, Master Brandon. I will get me to the castle and let His Majesty pronounce your fate,” said Norris, placing his sword in its sheath. “You have not heard the last of this!” he said as he carefully backed away from Arthur. Once he had moved a safe distance, he began to run toward the meadow. He yelled a fina
l taunt, “Heads have rolled for less!”
Twenty-nine
“Why didst come all alone to our favorite spot? Why not ask me to join you?” said Arthur as he held her against him.
“I thought to have the afternoon to prepare myself—for what is to come on the morrow. I wished to pray for God’s help. I needed to consider all that might happen. I longed for a time of peace before I am to give myself to the king,” said Madge.
“I have thought of nothing else. My blood boils when I think of you in that old man’s bed. My heart has commanded my legs to run and I have been roaming the halls of the castle looking for you—I went first to the queen and she told me she had given you the afternoon to yourself,” said Arthur. Madge could hear his heartbeat, fast and hard, against her ear. His body seemed tense, ready to slay dragons. She grew afraid.
“My love, must you go through with this rash scheme?” said Arthur, still holding her as though he would never let go.
“There is no way out. The king expects me to give way. The queen has ordered me to do so. You see how precariously she teeters on the throne. Since the death of the little prince, the king has not been to her bed but a few times. His eye roves where it will and ladies are put before him daily. The Seymours continue to whisper in his ear, no doubt about their virtuous sister. The queen’s enemies seek to control His Majesty and bend him to their will,” Madge said. She could feel the fear of Norris combine with the fear of what she must do in the trembling of her body. She wanted to make Arthur understand why she must complete the act that the queen set spinning.
“My dearest, dearest Arthur, I despise the thought of the king’s hands upon my person—his foul breath and his odious leg. I would not come near him if I did not believe the queen’s life depended on my success. I have seen the evil looks he gives her when her head is turned away from him. We both know he is a man of great danger, growing more so by the day, it would seem,” said Madge. She felt tears threaten to pour from her eyes. She threw her arms around Arthur’s neck and sobbed, “The queen has been ever kind to me. But it is for us that I bed the king—for our future. You must know that,” said Madge, clinging to him, her fingers clutching at his cloak.
At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn Page 23