“You are shivering. Norris has frightened the death out of you. Come, let us sit on the tree and I shall calm you,” said Arthur as he led her to the tree trunk. He spread his cloak out for them to sit upon and put his arm around Madge as he joined her. “After I learned you had the afternoon to yourself, I thought you might bring Shadow to the wood. Luckily, as I was heading up the hill across the meadow, I saw Norris entering the trees, hurrying and looking around to see whether or not he was observed. I knew then you might be in trouble. He has said often that he would take you before he wed you, to see if he could mold you to fit him, you being a maid,” said Arthur.
“He is a toad. The king has promised to release me from my vow. And with the queen’s blessing, we can marry,” said Madge.
They sat on the log for several minutes, kissing and giving each other comfort. The sun was no longer high and Madge knew her time was limited. She sat up and faced Arthur.
“Let us marry now,” she said, staring into his eyes.
“What do you mean?” he said.
“I mean to keep my promise—I said I would come to you before the king could lay his hands upon me and I aim to keep my word. Let us marry right now, in our woods, beneath the trees that have offered us their shelter so many times. If we pledge our troth here and you make me your honest wife, who will know? The king will not be able to tell if I am a true maid or no. The queen has told me of tricks I can use to fool him if he should wonder. Let us become one flesh,” she said, her breath coming in little puffs.
Arthur stood and drew her to him. They held hands.
“Before God, I marry you, Lady Margaret Shelton, and will give my life for you,” said Arthur.
“Before God, I marry you, Sir Churlish, and give my love to you,” Madge said, smiling.
“I consecrate this union with water,” said Arthur, cupping a handful and pouring it over Madge’s hair.
“And I as well,” said Madge, splashing him on the head.
They dallied in the water, plashing and spraying each other until their clothes were wet. Arthur led Madge to his cloak, which he now spread on the ground. Slowly and carefully, he removed her damp skirts and her shift. Naked but unafraid, she lay down upon the soft mossy earth, her pale flesh kept clean by his cloak. He pulled out a small packet from his breeches and then let them fall to his knees.
“What are you doing?” said Madge.
“’Tis called a lover’s sheath. It is a new thing to keep the pox at bay—I do not use it for that reason, fear not. I am clean and I know you are, too. But they say it can also keep my seed from giving you a babe. We must be very careful,” he said.
“But … what is it?” she said.
“Always the curious Pretty Madge! It is a finely woven linen cloth dipped in lard and dried in the sun. Dr. Linacre, the king’s own physician, prepares it for many of the men at court,” said Arthur.
“A marvelous invention—but hurry my love, hurry!” said Madge.
Arthur lowered himself onto her, kissing her deeply. He then ran his tongue along her entire body, licking her behind the knees, on the inner flesh of her elbows, along her thighs until he came to her womanhood. He looked at her, his eyes glassy with desire and then he began to kiss and nibble and lick her most private parts until she was wet enough to accommodate his member without much pain. Once within, he stirred her slowly, barely moving at first. She remembered the way her mother made a sweet pudding, slowly building the ingredients to a roaring boil. It was the same with Madge. Without warning, she felt a deep pulsing in her womb. This throbbing then radiated outward to her womanly parts, down through her legs to her toes while at the same time, skittering along her spine until her head felt as if it would burst. She groaned with pleasure and pulled Arthur to her, her hands suddenly alive with purpose, guided him over and over until she felt once again the building up of her desire.
She lost all track of time. It seemed she and Arthur went beyond time and space, entered another realm altogether. He continued to move slowly within her, bringing that delicious feeling to her body several times before she felt him thrust more quickly, seemingly without control. She watched his face as his eyes rolled back in his head and he gave a loud sigh. He collapsed onto her, kissing her cheeks and her forehead.
“Oh my love,” she whispered.
“My Pretty Madge…” he sighed.
Thirty
The next morning, Madge awoke and felt the stickiness between her thighs. She lay back against her pallet and smiled, remembering. She had not imagined such pleasures could be lurking in her own body, like a secret treasure waiting to be opened. Arthur had known every way to delight her and in their short time together, he had proven his virility three times, leaving her exhausted and filled with all the joy she could hold.
Though she would give herself to the king this very day, she was glad that Arthur had taken her maidenhead. She was happy that Arthur had made way for the king, rather than the other way around. She shuddered when she thought of the king having his way with her. Could she complete the act? Or would she run out of His Majesty’s arms, screaming her disgust? She looked out the glazed windows of the queen’s bedchamber and noted the dark sky. Pellets of rain hit the panes and dripped down in little runnels. Madge glanced up at the queen’s bed and saw Her Majesty still sleeping, her mouth open a bit, a soft snore coming from it. The queen had been up long into the night. Madge had heard her walking and murmuring to herself, then tossing in the enormous bed, not able to find a position to her liking. Madge stayed awake, listening, as long as she could, but sleep finally took her away. She dreamed of Arthur’s mouth, his tongue, his hands and fingers, his manhood. Such dreams kept her happy until her very waking moment.
She turned away from the queen and pulled the coverlet over her shoulders. She touched the private place where Arthur had been and enjoyed the feel of him still inside her. She could smell him and she did not want to bathe as that would take the scent of him away from her. But she knew she must. The king would know the odor of love and he must be deceived above all else. But for this moment, the scent could linger so she would not forget it.
Soon, the chamberlain entered to set out the queen’s clothes, clean the rushes, and prepare the inner and outer rooms for the queen’s breaking of the fast. Madge arose and poured water from the ewer into the large bathing bowl. She planned to use the water after the queen had washed her face and hands with it, to clean her private parts. She was to meet the king’s barge after Their Majesties had dined, at evening when the first stars crept out.
“Lady Margaret, bring my green kirtle and the green-slashed sleeves. I would look especially fine this day,” snapped the queen.
“Yes, Majesty,” said Madge. “Madame, you must recall what is to happen tonight…”
“Of course I recall it! Think you I have lost all my senses?” said the queen.
“No, Majesty. I wondered what I should wear. And if you would wish me come to your bedchamber when the king has returned me in the morning,” said Madge.
“Yes. Come immediately to me. As for your clothes, you will wear this lovely blue dress—I think of the color as midnight blue, so dark and alluring. Feel, ’tis velvet and look at the jewels sewn within. The king has not seen me wear it—the tailor made it for you, Lady Margaret. It will be yours to keep after tonight. Now, take this necklace of diamonds and wear your hair down loose. Make a daisy chain to weave in with those curly locks of yours—you might even fashion a crown of daisies for your head. You will be quite fetching, Pretty Madge,” said the queen, her tone odd and cold.
“Majesty, I … beg of you one last time…” Madge said.
“No! Speak no more! What is to happen will happen, grudge who may. Now, quiet! I am to sup with His Majesty tonight and I would be in fine spirits. Take the dress and the jewels to your nurse’s room and have her help you adorn yourself. The whole court already tells the tale of the beautiful, young Lady Margaret and her lover, the king! Be gone! I will speak w
ith you in the morning,” said the queen.
* * *
Madge hurried to Cate’s room, carrying what she needed for her meeting with the king. Cate had gone to break her fast at the Great Hall and Shadow leapt up to greet Madge when she knocked, then opened the door. She lay the clothing on Cate’s pallet and played with her dog. She was too nervous to eat and thought about the evening to come.
She admired the king; he was brilliant and strong, capable of great kindness and courage; he wrote music, tilted with the most accomplished jousters of the day; he danced and hunted with great skill, yet he could also debate theology until the wee hours of morning. He loved to laugh, yet was easily moved to tears. He sang with gusto and lived with enormous appetite. Such a man Madge had never imagined. As a king, he made her proud. As a man, he left her cold.
She had seen him display great patience, as when the queen was with child and peevish. She had also seen him act cruelly. Recently, when the princess dowager Catherine had been quite ill, His Majesty had prohibited her daughter, the lady Mary, to visit. Spending a few days with her mother would have done both mother and daughter great good. But, Lady Mary would not acknowledge Queen Anne as rightful queen and the king was livid about it, so he refused to allow Mary to give succor to her ailing mother. The whole court muttered against His Majesty’s unkindness.
Madge studied the necklace the queen had given her to wear. The diamonds shone in the light, polished cabochons smooth and rounded. She was fortunate to be able to adorn her neck with such jewelry, if only for one night. She picked up Cate’s rosary beads, which she usually kept hidden in a pouch of her under shift. Madge thought about what she had done with Arthur. Though they were not married by a priest, she felt as if God Himself had married them. She agreed with the queen that between herself and God, there need be no priest. What had happened with Arthur, though many would think it a sin, felt to Madge more like a sacred union.
But what about the events that were to happen this very night? What would God think of a woman who gave herself to her king, not for love, not for money, but because she loved the queen? Would God think such an act a sin? Or is that what Jesu meant when he said to lay down one’s life for another is the greatest love? Verily, Madge did not wish to lie with the king but she was willing to do this in order to save the queen. She could see for herself how easily the king could be led astray by a pretty face, the sound of a soft voice, a delicate hand. She would guide him back to his wife and then, the royal couple would get the prince the whole of England longed for. If bedding the king was the only way she could get his ear and help him find his way back to Anne, then so be it.
Though she could work things out thus in her mind, in her heart, Madge felt full of doubts and trepidation. Her love for Arthur weighed on her and she feared he would leave her out of jealousy once she became, in body and soul, the king’s own woman. How could he still love her, knowing she had pandered herself to the king? How could he be at court each day, seeing Madge and the king together, wanting her for himself? Would he not begin to despise her for what she had done?
Madge fell onto her knees, holding Cate’s rosary. For the first time, she felt herself surrounded by a Presence. She knew God was with her and she told all her troubles to this God, the way she used to confess everything before the priest. Time passed and still she prayed, crying and then laughing and then crying once more. Her eyes rimmed red and her nose matched. She did not care. Perhaps if she were no longer “Pretty Madge,” the king would not desire her. She prayed that this cup pass from her lips, but she knew such deliverance would not happen. She thought of herself like a coney caught in a trap of twigs, no escape. No escape.
Exhausted, she ceased her prayers, lay down on Cate’s pallet, and slept.
* * *
“Maddie, wake up! Wake up, I say!” said Cate, prodding Madge’s torso with her foot.
“What time is it?” said Madge.
“Late afternoon! I was called into Mistress Seymour’s room to help milady with her sewing—she was stitching a lovely shift of satin, for her wedding night, she said. I let out a bit of a ‘humph’ and she then said, ‘You might be surprised to find me married by next year, dear Cate. Surprised indeed.’ I know more than she might think—I knew she meant the king! That prim, dough-faced wench plans to marry the king! Now I know that whatever you do to save the queen is the right thing—we are all safe as long as Her Majesty is safe. But if she were to fall, the Lord help us. I said no more to Mistress Jane but hurried so I could come to you, Maddie-girl. I knew you would have need of me,” said Cate, prattling away as she gave Shadow some tidbits of food and straightened the blue gown, which Madge had mussed a little as she napped.
“I must ready myself—I wish some great wind would blow me away from all of this—away from court and the queen and the king! I would fain not do what I must do this night,” said Madge.
“I know, I know. I felt that way too, until I heard from my own ears the schemes of Mistress Seymour! She hath nerves of iron. But come, dearie—let us fix your hair and get you ready to meet Sir Weston,” said Cate.
“Cate, think you God will forgive what I am about to do—’tis a mortal sin, well, two, I suppose—fornication and adultery,” said Madge.
“I do not know what God might or might not do. But, though it be a sin, if you can save the queen and your family, you should do so. Now, let us sweeten your hair and soften your skin. Take off all your clothes, girl. I know just what you need,” said Cate.
Madge obeyed, thinking again about Arthur and God and her mother and the queen and the king. Her thoughts churned about as confused as the golden fish that crowded in the king’s garden pond. She could feel each heartbeat throbbing in her head and her ears buzzed. Finally, after fidgeting about, milling around and around Cate’s room, and moving every second or two, Cate handed her a glass of fine wine, which settled her a little. But she had no appetite and when Cate brought supper, Madge ate only a piece of bread dabbed with drippings.
“You are the loveliest girl, well, woman in all the court, Maddie. I will pray for you throughout the night,” said Cate as she hugged Maddie good-bye.
Madge made her way to the garden and waited by the stone bench near the roses. Soon enough, Weston walked toward her.
“My Lady Margaret! How pretty you are! You will surely please His Majesty,” said Weston.
“It is my desire to do so, sir. How far to the barge?” said Madge.
“We shall walk a ways to the river. All is in readiness. If your ladyship will take my arm?” said Weston.
“Yes. Lead on,” said Madge.
* * *
“I thought the king would be on board,” said Madge after she had been seated.
“Aye, such is what he said. But I mentioned it might be more prudent for His Majesty to meet you at the house. The court is full of spies and gossips. His Majesty would not wish the whole world to know his business,” said Weston.
The river was crowded, as was usual for a summer night. Lords who lived along the banks of the Thames enjoyed an evening sail with their ladies. Merchants and tradesmen often headed for home by river and Madge could hear lutes being strummed and the sound of flutes floating on the evening air. The king’s barge was sumptuous, with large pillows for reclining. His Majesty had sent wines and ales for Weston and her, as well as various meats. There was marchpane in the shape of a cupid and a plum pudding. Madge’s stomach felt as if it were in her throat, so she did not partake of the generous supply. Weston, however, ate his fill.
They did not speak for a long while.
“Finally, we arrive, milady. Allow me to help you ashore,” said Weston as he poled the barge into the shallow water and set a board for Madge to walk on. He gave her his hand and led her onto the yard in front of a small manor.
“Just follow the path in the grass and you will find the king in the house, waiting,” said Weston, who seemed suddenly to grin at her. Once he saw her face, however, he suppressed his smil
e.
“Thank you, Sir Francis,” she said with as much dignity as possible.
Madge walked up the narrow path and knocked gently on the front door. She hoped no one would answer, but was quite surprised when the king himself opened the door to her.
“Pretty Madge! Come in, come in. ’Tis a pleasant night, eh? I see Orion and his bear!” he said, pointing at the sky. “Look there—a good omen for us—Venus, the bright evening star,” said the king. Then he ushered her into the front hall of the cozy manor house. Tapestries hung on the walls and there was a small gaming table set with wine and food. Two chairs sat on opposite sides of the table. At first, Madge thought they were completely alone, but then she heard the sound of virginals coming from another room.
“Have some wine, dearest? Mayhap a sweetmeat?” said the king, offering her a drink served in his own gold plate. Her stomach fluttered.
“No thank you, Your Grace. I fear such spirits would overheat me,” said Madge with the sly smile she had cultivated over the past month, a smile that hinted at what might be in store for its recipient.
“Perhaps you are right, dearest. I should despair if I, too, should become overheated,” said the king. “Shall we adjourn to the sitting chamber where Master Smeaton is playing his incomparable music?” said the king.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” said Madge with a curtsy.
“Mistress Margaret, on this night, I am, simply, Henry. Please do not call me by any other title—unless it be sweetheart,” said the king.
“Of course, Your—I mean, Henry,” she said.
He offered her his arm and together they strolled into the next chamber, an even smaller room with two tiny windows covered by heavy damask draperies. Master Smeaton sat in a corner with his virginals, a merry melody tinkling from its keys. He smiled a greeting to her when they entered the room.
At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn Page 24