“Nor had I—and it seems such a humorous picture I can scarce believe it. But the wench swore on the Holy Bible ’twas the truth,” said the queen.
“If such methods would work on the body of an anointed king, I cannot imagine how a mere yeoman might react,” said Madge. “I would never have the courage to begin such a game.”
“I would never have thought it myself. But I know I must bear a son to the king if I am to survive. So … I did try the same with my Harry,” said the queen in a hushed tone.
Madge could not believe what she heard. Yet, she would hear more.
“What happened, cousin? How did the king like such sport?” said Madge.
“I will tell you, Margaret, our king was so amazed at my handling of him, he knew not what to do at first. But soon, he took to the game and I built a passion in him I had not seen before, nay, not even on the night in Calais when he took me for the first time. He was filled with rage and the devil knows what else. I brought out the young man in him that night. When the time came, he took me the same way Francis took his concubine—like an animal,” said the queen.
“And did he fall in love with you again? Was he pleased?” said Madge.
The queen turned her eyes to the floor and spoke very softly.
“Nay, I think not. Afterward, we lay together and he was still panting. His face was flushed and he arose to gather his clothes. He said to me, “Madame, I know not where you have learned such sport but ’tis not fitting for a king—you will breathe of this to no one!” He then left, ashamed methinks. For my Harry is clean in all his habits and full of dignity. My game disturbed him deeply, I fear,” said the queen.
“Do you think it is the memory of that debased night that keeps His Majesty from you?” said Madge.
“Perhaps. To recall all I made him do would bring shame to any man worth his blood. But Margaret, you should have seen him prancing on the floor, his belly hanging lower than his manhood—I had to bite my cheeks to keep from laughing,” said the queen.
“Thank God you did not laugh,” said Madge. She was amazed at what the queen had disclosed.
“No, even I know better than that. I had hoped such play would lead Henry back to me, begging for more, as Francis is said to do,” said the queen.
“From what I know of His Majesty, such a stunt would work only once—you are lucky to have escaped with your head!” said Madge.
“You have taken his measure quite right. I sought to bind him to me, but it seems I have driven him further away. Now, I fear only the birth of a prince can save me—I see how he looks at me sometimes, when he does not suspect I am watching—it is a look of such coldness I can scarce bear it,” said the queen.
Madge was suddenly sorry for His Majesty and for the queen as well. How strange a thing it was to be married to a king.
Madge fell silent and so did Her Majesty. Soon, Madge heard the soft familiar snores from the queen. At least the queen had gotten what she wanted—a babe growing in her belly. The king would have his son and the queen would be safe. And England would be free from another civil war. Maybe such rewards were worth a bit of debauchery.
* * *
As the weather grew more chill and the first snows began to fall, Madge longed for Arthur’s return to court. She had received two letters from him, each one encouraging her to wait for him, bespeaking his love in plain terms. She had sent one letter in response but was carefully circumspect in her own admission of her feelings in writing. She had learned the ways of the court too well to commit anything of import to the page.
Each day, the king and queen attended matins, the Mass, and compline together. To the court, His Majesty showed the queen every consideration. But Madge could see the strange look that came to his eyes when the queen turned away from him to speak with a courtier. She also noticed the king no longer kissed his wife, except on the hand in greeting. Though he was always the gentleman with the queen, he had not yet come to sup again. Madge could almost feel the tension in the air at court and worried how such strains would affect the queen’s unborn child. Each night, she prayed for the safety of both.
* * *
The winter winds blew fully as the Advent season approached and Greenwich buzzed with preparations for the twelve days of Christmas. Madge enjoyed the activity and the building excitement. She thought of the Blessed Virgin and how she, like the queen, awaited the birth of her son. With the changes in the service, Madge was able to hear preaching that forced her to think about herself and God in ways she had not considered previously. As she observed the intrigues at court, she saw she was in a hotbed of corruption. No one could be trusted, it seemed. Those who treated you most kindly one moment could cut you the next. One day, the Lord Privy Seal; the next day, one’s head on a stake at London Bridge. As the queen continued to fall out of favor with the king, the court reflected his attitude. The king had almost strangled his fool, Will Somers, when he jested that the queen was a “bawd” and the Princess “a bastard,” and banished him from court. Yet, few courtiers were as solicitous of the queen’s comfort as they had been three years ago. They were, however, full of courtesy, for who knew when the king might return once again to his wife’s arms.
Madge thought of these things and realized nothing at Court was secure; everything—the gold, the jewels, the merrymaking—was in flux, here one moment and gone the next.
* * *
“Lady Margaret, I have a message for you,” said Nan Cobham, holding a folded piece of parchment in her hand.
“Thank you, Nan. Happy Christmas!” said Madge, handing the girl a small coin.
She carefully broke the wax seal and read the contents.
Dearest Pretty Madge,
I am to come to court by Christmas Day. I will meet you at Cate’s.
Love,
Arthur
Madge folded the note and tucked it into her bodice. Her whole body trembled with excitement. Only two days until she could hold Arthur once more! Two days!
The queen was napping and had left instructions for no one to enter her bedchamber so Madge waited in one of the outer rooms. She picked up her sewing to divert her mind while she waited for the queen to arise. Several of the other ladies were similarly occupied, though Jane Seymour was not there. Madge wondered if she were with the king. Madge heard a commotion in the hallway and a handful of gentlemen entered the queen’s apartments. Immediately, Madge saw Sir Norris and looked down at her sewing.
“My Pretty Madge, how now?” he said as he bowed to her.
“Good day, Sir Norris,” said Madge.
“You will be happy to know I spoke to the king this very morning about our nuptials. He has given his royal permission for us to marry when the robin builds its nest,” said Norris.
“I am surprised you would mention such a frivolity to His Majesty. Surely, the king has more important issues to concern him,” said Madge.
“Your joy at the thought of our wedding is overwhelming, Pretty Madge. I think you love me not,” said Norris.
“You have done little to earn love from me, sir. Methinks we should forgo this match and find love in another,” said Madge.
“Mistress, I would have you—I care not a whit for love. You are young and fit, the prettiest girl at court. And I will have you,” he said.
“If that be so, then tell me, sir, since you have the king’s ear, how fares the queen in his affections?” whispered Madge.
“I can barely hear you, mistress. May I sit down so we can speak of this matter plainly?” he said.
Madge patted her hand on the bench beside her and Norris plopped down. He sat very close so that they rubbed thigh to thigh.
“As you may know, mistress, I am a great friend to Her Majesty. I would see her content on the throne for many a year to come. But the king has no stomach for her these days, though I know not why. He pulls a face when he must be near her and spends much of his time with the lady Jane. I know not what his intentions are, but if you have any sway with the q
ueen, tell her to be humble and obedient to His Majesty. Beat Mistress Seymour at her own game,” said Norris.
“I will tell her. And Sir Norris, thank you,” said Madge.
“Anything to please my lady,” said Norris, without his usual irony.
* * *
“When do you think he will arrive, Cate? It seems we have been waiting for hours,” said Madge as she paced the short length of Cate’s room.
“How should I know the hour he will set foot in the castle? Am I a soothsayer? Do I read the tea leaves? Sit down, Maddie-girl! You are making Shadow a nervous Nell,” said Cate.
“Methinks it has been long since I have seen him!” said Madge, alighting on the edge of Cate’s pallet. However, she could not stay seated. She resumed her route, back and forth, back and forth. Before she could make another round, she heard a soft tapping at the door. She flung open the heavy door with the vigor of two men.
“Arthur!” she cried out as she rushed into his arms. He quickly pushed her away.
“Inside, inside!” he said, closing the door behind him.
Once safely in Cate’s room, they embraced and kissed for many minutes while Cate averted her eyes and petted Shadow. Finally, she spoke.
“I think ’tis time for me to gather some greenery for my room to give it a bit of Christmas cheer,” she said.
Arthur broke his embrace and took Madge by the hand, leading her to the pallet.
“Prithee, wait, good Cate. I have news I must spill to both of you. You will like it not,” he said.
“What is it?” said Madge.
“’Tis about the queen and our country,” said Arthur.
“Then tell us quickly,” said Madge.
“My father has let slip many things whilst we worked. First, the emperor threatens. Francis the First maintains close relations with the pope. Paul the Third has tried to gather a coalition against Henry, and Catherine still calls on her nephew, the emperor, to invade us. The common folk dislike Queen Anne as much as ever and there is disquiet across the land. The people do not like the changes Henry is making in the church and they blame everything on Her Majesty,” said Arthur.
“But this seems much as it has always been,” said Madge. “There are ever wars and rumors of wars.”
“There is one change which you will not like,” said Arthur.
“What is it?” said Madge.
“The king is thinking of putting away his wife. He is enraptured of Jane Seymour and with her brother, Edward, now a groom of the king’s chamber, Mistress Jane waxes while the queen wanes,” said Arthur.
“We know about the king’s harlot,” said Cate.
“He will tire of her, I am sure. And you forget, Arthur, the queen is with child,” said Madge.
“He tires of them all, does he not? The queen’s child can save her if it be a boy. Another girl? I believe His Majesty will find a way to rid himself of her,” said Arthur.
“I hope you are mistook,” said Cate.
“Let us speak no more of this—come, dearest, I have prepared food and ale for you. You are tired from your journey,” said Madge.
“Let me feast on you, sweetheart—that is all I need of food and drink,” he said.
IV
1536
These Bloody Days Have Broken My Heart
—SIR THOMAS WYATT, FROM A POEM OF THE SAME NAME
Thirty-three
One week after gifts were exchanged on New Year’s Day, news came that the dowager princess Catherine had left this earthly existence. Madge was with the queen and king in the Great Hall when the courier arrived.
“God be praised that we are free from all suspicion of war!” shouted the king when he heard the news. The messenger then handed him a letter from Catherine’s own hand, but the king did not open it. The queen and all her family were much relieved at the news, and Madge heard the queen’s brother say, “Let her daughter join her!” Madge was shamed when George said such a cruel thing, and she felt sorrow for the lonely death of Queen Catherine, who had been Henry’s loving wife for twenty-six years.
The next day, a Sunday, the king and queen appeared dressed in yellow, the color of mourning in Spain. The king wore a white plume in his hat. Even Elizabeth was clothed in a gown the color of egg yolk. After they had attended church, the king took Elizabeth to the Great Hall and paraded her around for all to see. There was much dancing for several days to celebrate the death of the former queen. After the dancing, Henry decided a joust was in order and appeared in the tiltyard, paying his respects to Lady Jane, who gave him an embroidered handkerchief to wipe his brow. Though he was her champion for the joust, he was careful to insist the queen take an afternoon’s rest before the tilt began, so as not to endanger the babe. Her Majesty did not see his public display of courtly love to the lady Jane, but Cate saw and reported it to Madge.
“Methinks His Majesty believes he is still young! Tilting at his age—he will soon be forty-six and his pate is balding, his belly growing. Such foolishness! Yet, ever such folly is found in man,” said Cate.
“Aye, he does play the fool where his age is concerned—I am grateful he came to no harm,” said Madge. “And let us keep this news from Her Majesty—it will not help her,” said Madge.
“It is shameful the way he flaunts his new mistress for all the world to see—all the world except the queen. He did the same when you were his mistress, as you recall. He has no honor in him,” said Cate.
“Have a care, milady—such talk is treason in these times. Say naught of that but to me,” said Madge. “Now, let us go to the queen to see if we can ease her—she has been sick of the stomach again.”
“’Tis natural—your own dear mother could not keep anything in her belly but you for many months!” said Cate.
The queen was still abed when Madge knocked gently on the door to her chamber. Her Majesty often wished to be alone these days and had sent her ladies out of doors, though the weather was cold. The queen believed brisk air would do them all good and was healthy for the soul as well as the body. She had explained such things to Madge many times.
“Enter,” said the queen.
Madge went in first and gave the queen a deep curtsy with Cate behind her, doing the same. The queen was sitting up in her bed, leaning against several large pillows. Her color was better, pale roses blooming in each cheek. She smiled at both her servants.
“You are most welcome, ladies. I have rested well and feel like taking a stroll, perhaps even out to the herb garden, though there be little growing there at this time,” said the queen. “Help me with my dress, will you?”
“Yes, Your Grace. But I would caution Your Grace, the wind blows chill this day. You will need your velvet kirtle and the ermine mantle for your heavy cloak. ’Twould not do to catch the ague,” said Madge.
“Maddie’s right, Your Majesty. ’Tis that season, after all. Will you drink a cup of tea ere you go?” said Cate in a soothing voice.
“No thank you, Mistress Cate. You are kind to offer it, though. I am glad you have come with Lady Margaret—I see you are a woman of great good sense,” said the queen.
Madge turned to look at Cate and saw her flush with pleasure.
The queen was now ready for Madge to comb her hair and pin it up so it would fit beneath her hood. Madge noticed the queen was still very slim and delicate. She had not begun to add the usual plumpness of being with child, but then, the babe was barely begun. Madge did worry that the strain the queen endured was harming Her Majesty’s health.
“Dear Cate, will you see to Urian? He is lazy and has not been on a run for many days. The lady Margaret will walk with me,” said the queen.
“Certainly, Your Majesty,” said Cate and tugged at the old dog until he finally rose and followed her out.
“Come, Lady Margaret, I feel so much better than I have for weeks. Let us be merry!” said the queen as she stepped into the outer rooms. A few of her ladies remained there, sewing or playing dice. They curtsied as the queen walked
past.
“I am glad Your Grace is feeling better—’tis a good sign that all is well with you and the babe,” said Madge.
“Yes, I thought I felt a flutter this morning, though I cannot be certain. Too early to be sure it was the babe and not indigestion,” said the queen.
“Did you know His Majesty has planned a grand jousting tournament and a feast at Greenwich on the twenty-fourth of this month? I did not know if he had told you about it, as you have been unwell,” said Madge.
“Oh yes, Harry explained it all. He wanted me to come to Greenwich, but I told him I would have to see how I am feeling. I may prefer to stay here, at Whitehall. I will take no chances with this babe,” said the queen.
As they worked their way to the entrance near the kitchens, they heard giggling and a low male voice. Madge realized immediately the voice belonged to His Majesty. The queen stopped in her tracks to listen. When Madge started to speak, the queen put her finger to her lips and shushed her. The more they listened, the clearer it became that the voice was, indeed, Henry’s.
The queen tiptoed to the half-open door into a small cellar. She stood in the archway for a moment, then pushed the door fully open. She gasped and then ran toward the figure sitting on His Majesty’s lap. Madge followed her inside and saw that the woman in question was Mistress Seymour.
Madge had never seen the queen so angry. She flew at Mistress Seymour and began pulling her hair and slapping her about the head and shoulders. The king pulled her away and commanded Jane to leave immediately. Jane’s usually pasty face was bright red as she swooshed past Madge without even looking up. Madge froze, too terrified to move.
“Henry, how could you? You promised!” screamed the queen, falling to her knees and sobbing.
“Sweetheart … dearest, do not take on so. Forgive me. If you wilt forgive the one who serves you still, you will have no cause to complain of me in this way again. Be of good cheer,” said the king.
He pulled the queen to her feet and embraced her. Carefully, he wiped her tears and then sat down, gently bringing the queen to sit on his knee. Madge watched as the queen struggled to regain control of herself. Madge admired the way the queen retained her dignity.
At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn Page 28