The Scandal of Christendom

by G Lawrence

  Henry and François stayed at the Abbey of Notre Dame, where each had a suite of four rooms, hung with cloth of silver and tapestries. The kings attended Mass together each morning, and feasted with their men from a grand buffet, surrounded by heavy cupboards displaying gold and silver plate, glittering with jewels. The two kings sought to outdo each other. François appeared one day in a doublet covered with shining gemstones and huge diamonds, and the next, Henry attended Mass in an outfit of crimson satin encrusted with pearls beneath a long gown of white velvet, embroidered with gold.

  “They spoke of embarking on a joint crusade against the Turks,” wrote George. “And discussed the King’s Great Matter in private. Henry emerged from these talks in a merry mood. François had promised to use his influence with the Pope to win an outcome that would please his ‘good brother’, as François calls Henry at every opportunity. François promised to send two cardinals to Rome to inform Clement of the alliance between them, and informed Henry that, together, and united, neither of them had cause to fear the Emperor ever again. François only begs Henry to be patient. With time, he has told our King, everything can be achieved. He asks that Henry take no drastic action, and if he is willing, François believes he can persuade the Pope to allow the annulment.”

  George wrote that the weather was fine and gay. The kings made the most of it by watching François’ sons play tennis. They made offerings to holy shrines, entertained nobles with sumptuous feasts, and rode out to hunt each day. There was no dancing, since there were no ladies present, but the kings lavished gifts on one another, presenting horses, jewels, falcons and hounds. Henry also gave presents of money to the Dauphin and his brothers. My beloved quite outdid François, who had to borrow from one of his lords in order to present his brother-king with six beautiful horses, which pleased Henry greatly. When François offered Henry his own bed, a grotesquely expensive item of furniture, Henry attempted to refuse.

  “How can I steal my brother’s bed?” he asked, roaring with laughter. But François insisted.

  “Knowing how many good nights I have spent in this bed,” he said. “I can only wish my brother the same joy.”

  François invested Norfolk and Suffolk with the Order of St Michael, and the next day they left to return to Calais. Almost two thousand, five hundred beds had been prepared for the French Court, along with stabling for two thousand horses. François was to stay at the headquarters of the Calais merchants, and also at their expense.

  “You will inform all my ladies that there will be another practice tonight, before we dine,” I said to Mary. “I want our dance perfected.”

  “I will tell them.”

  As we passed through the chamber, on our way to the privy gardens, I could feel Stafford’s eyes following my sister.

  Chapter Thirty-Seven

  Calais

  Autumn 1532

  Henry and François entered Calais on the 25th of October to a roaring salute of cannon fire welcoming them back to English soil. Henry Fitzroy and his men were there to greet them. I was not present for I wanted to save my entrance. I meant to make an impression on François; one he would not forget.

  I could not help thinking, as we listened to the cheering of the crowds and the noise of the guns, of the night François had saved me. And with that memory, a whole parade of recollections came dancing into my mind. I thought of the distinctive dresses he had given to his wife’s ladies when we entertained English ambassadors in the Bastille and how my gown had been the most special of all, adapted with the sleeves I had made famous in France. I thought of his many kindnesses, and although I reflected with some distaste over his treatment of my friend, Françoise de Foix, and my sister, I could never remember François with ill-feeling.

  Some acts can never be repaid.

  François was lodged at the Staple Inn. On the first evening, he sent the Provost of Paris to my chambers, bearing a costly diamond.

  “Never have a seen a stone of more perfect clarity,” Henry marvelled, holding it up to the light. He handed it back, joyous to see François honour me. “He had to borrow money to outmatch me,” Henry chuckled. “But it would seem wily François was keeping something in reserve!”

  “You enjoyed your time with him?” I asked, sitting upon his lap.

  Henry put his arms about me. “Strangely, or perhaps not,” he said. “What I enjoyed most was spending time with his sons. Seeing those fine boys play tennis or hawk with their father brought a special kind of yearning to my heart. I envy François, not for his country or his clothes, but for his family.”

  “Soon, my lord, you will have sons.”

  “I cannot wait.” Henry kissed me. “I must get ready for the evening’s entertainments,” he said. “Are you sure that you do not mean to attend? It will be a night of wonders.”

  “I mean to make the French sit up and gape,” I said. “And if they are forced to wait before I make my entrance, their hunger will intensify.”

  Henry chuckled. “You know the French better than I,” he said. “I will tell you all that happens.”

  “Have a merry time, my love.” I returned his kiss and pressed my body close to his, relishing his sharp intake of breath. I meant to have Henry panting for me when I finally came to him.

  Henry entertained François, and returned, chuckling that his brother-king was almost beside himself with curiosity. “He spoke so warmly of you, Anne,” Henry said, helping himself to a hefty portion of apple fritters doused with sparkling sugar. “He told me no other lady had ever made such an impression on him, and all the more so because he wanted to make you his mistress once, but was warned off by his sister, who told him you would never accept.”

  “My heart is constant,” I agreed. “I would never have become his mistress. There was only one man who could tempt me.”

  Henry’s eyes had held glinting lights of jealousy, but as I spoke, they dimmed. “You are the only woman I have ever loved,” he said. “I thought myself in love many times, before you, Anne. But never until I stood before you, offering you my heart, did I know what love was. You are in my soul.”

  I slipped my arms about his neck. “Never did I love before you, Henry,” I whispered. “When I found you, I found the place where all my journeys would end.”

  The next night there was bear and bull baiting in the courtyard of the Staple Inn and a feast was served in the banqueting hall. Golden wreaths sparkled with precious stones, twenty silver chandeliers cast dappled light from one hundred wax candles in their sconces, and gold and silver cloth smothered the walls. Henry made his entrance in purple and cloth of gold, with a collar of fourteen rubies, the smallest of which was the size of a goose egg, about his throat. Two rows of pearls lay under them, and from a golden chain was hung the ruby of the Black Prince.

  We ladies did not attend the feast. We waited, our hearts thundering with excitement and our feet unable to be still. Behind curtains of velvet and cloth of gold we hid, waiting to make our entrance. Henry, of course, knew what was about to happen. François however, I could hear questioning Henry. When would he meet the woman who had captured his brother’s heart?

  “Patience, brother, patience,” Henry chided gently. “The hour is at hand.” Henry swept out his arm, and on his cue, the musicians started to play a sensuous, slow tune of my composition.

  I turned to my ladies. “We dance this night not only for ourselves,” I said. “But for the pride of England. Remember that.”

  And with that, I slipped through the curtain, my face concealed behind a mask of pure white silk, topped with pale, flowing feathers, and my body almost concealed in a drooping, elegant, loose gown of cloth of gold and crimson silk, decorated with a pattern of honeysuckle in cloth of silver. We were seven ladies in total, with four maids of honour accompanying us, wearing crimson satin and tabards of cypress lawn.

  There was an intake of breath as we walked slowly forwards.

  And as I glanced up, I saw the dark eyes of the King of France light upon me,
sparkling with interest.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Calais

  Autumn 1532

  The chamber fell silent. The only noise was the strumming of lutes and lilting flutes. We walked slowly, sensuously, to the centre of the chamber and stood before the kings.

  Henry looked alive. His cheeks were flushed with fine wine and his spirits enhanced by good company. I could see those blue eyes shining with pride to see me, so elegant, so mysterious, my black eyes flashing from behind my mask of pure white. Mary Howard was the first in line behind me, as benefited the station of a duke’s daughter. My sister-in-law, Jane, Dorothy the Countess of Derby, Elizabeth Lady FitzWalter, Honor Grenville, and my sister Mary, came behind. The only one of my ladies missing was Margaret, who could not dance as the babe in her belly had recently quickened.

  We paused, our bodies held in a tableau. We stretched our arms up and our legs to our sides. Beneath our loose gowns of cloth of gold, a glimpse of bare skin could be seen, but only a glimpse, to make us enticing but not scandalous. The musicians began the refrain I had composed, and we started to move.

  Our dance was a stately pavanne. Our movements were slow, poised and elegant. Each step was faultless, each slide of the foot and clap of the hands perfectly in time. As the dance reached its end and we came together to reassemble our tableau, every eye was on us, and, I had no doubt, every mind of every man had slid into thoughts of desire.

  The dance ended. I stood, my arms raised above my head. My long, lithe body stretched, accentuating my breasts and slim waist. My ladies, in similar poses, held themselves utterly still. We became statues, like those of the ancient gods in the palace gardens.

  There was silence. For a moment I thought the men in the great hall might be displeased, but as they started to cheer wildly I realised they had simply been held spellbound. The magic we had unleashed had only been broken as the music ended. As one, we took hold of our skirts and curtseyed. The noise was deafening.

  I walked forwards and dropped into a graceful curtsey. “We nymphs have come to bewitch mortal partners,” I said. “I claim the hand of King François for this, the first dance.”

  The King of France glanced at Henry. François knew who I was. Even had he not known me as a girl, there could be no mistaking which lady would ask so bold for his hand. Henry inclined his head, and François uncurled his sinuous body from his chair, and walked gracefully to take my hand.

  My ladies chose partners from the French nobility, and the dance began. As I tripped and slipped about François, he narrowed his eyes, trying to see if the face behind my mask indeed belonged to the woman he had once known.

  “Will you not remove your mask, my lady?” he asked as we danced. “I should like to see the beauty that lies beneath.”

  “That, Your Majesty, is not within my power,” I said, evading his touch by slipping to one side. “There is but one mortal who has the power to reveal my identity, and as you see, he is in no hurry to do so.”

  Henry, who was to unmask us at the proper time, was sat upon the dais and made no move to remove our masks. He wanted François to dance with me for some time. If we could not have official recognition of my status, we would not lose the opportunity for François to acknowledge me in other ways. By the time I was unmasked, I would have been dancing with François for a long time… long enough for people to report that the King of France had honoured the Marquess of Pembroke by refusing to surrender her to another man.

  “I am brought low to hear I will not see your face,” said François.

  “I would have thought, Majesty, there was but one woman you were keen to meet this night.”

  “And who would that be?”

  “Are you not eager to see the Marquess of Pembroke, Majesty? She who has captured the heart of your brother-king?”

  “It is true I long to meet the lady again,” said François. “And yet, she evades me at every turn! I come to believe she does not remember me as well or warm as I do her.”

  “You were friends, once?”

  “I hoped to always be, my lady. When friends part whilst their bond is still strong, do they not remain friends? Their friendship is frozen in time, and melts when the two come together once again.”

  “I am sure the lady remembers you fondly. How could any woman do otherwise?”

  François chuckled. “How I wish that might be true, my lady. But sometimes, pressures of life, of politics and diplomacy weigh upon ties of friendship. When I knew the Marquess, she was but a young girl, distant from such wearisome strains and tribulations. But now, she has risen far, and trials she once avoided, she can no more.”

  “If I ever meet the lady, Majesty, I shall be sure to tell her that you long only for her natural and simple friendship. I am sure she will be pleased. There are so many false friends in the courts of kings. A true friend is a blessing.”

  “You show great wisdom, for one so young.”

  “I am, sadly, no longer as young as once I was.”

  “The same is true of me, and of all men and women who live upon this world. But I think you are young, mistress. I see life in your eyes and youth in your step. You cannot dupe me into thinking I dance with a shrivelled crone.”

  “And if I were to unmask now, and reveal a wizened witch?” I laughed; a rich, throaty sound. “Perhaps it would be wiser to keep on my mask, my lord, for then I can be all that you wish me to be. I can be the person I dream of being.”

  “I dance with a philosopher,” he noted. “Do you not think there is value in honesty?”

  “What is more honest than a mask?” I asked. “It hides a person’s face, but reveals their character. We wear an invisible mask every day, Your Majesty. It is only when we place a mask over that mask, that we find the courage to be who we truly are.”

  “You make me yearn for a mask.”

  “Kings are different in this regard,” I said. “They must wear many faces, but all of them are honest. The lover, the friend, at times the tyrant… They must be all things to all people, so the masks they wear display but different parts of their characters, assumed for different situations. When kings put on masks, the mischief within them, that part they are forced to hold back, is what is revealed.”

  “You seem to know a great deal about kings, my lady,” he said. “Are you sure you are not the woman I seek?”

  “I speak from observation, rather than experience, Majesty.”

  “Are they not the same thing?”

  “And now my partner is a philosopher.”

  “Then we are well-matched.”

  “I am pleased to find it so.” I smiled.

  For more than an hour, I danced with François. My ladies changed partners, but I did not. François knew what we were up to. He was far too wily not to see our little ruse. But he did not attempt to lead me back to the crowds, to unmask me or to suggest he was tired. We danced on, and as the air grew hot, I saw Henry walking to the head of the dais.

  He held up his hands and the musicians ceased. “Now is the hour of unmasking!” he announced, his eyes brilliant with excitement. Henry loved disguisings and masques. They appealed to his sense of theatre. He walked towards me and I stepped forwards, so Henry could unlace the golden ribbon behind my head. As he slipped the mask from my face, I stared into François’ dark eyes. There was no surprise there, but he laughed as though amazed and clapped his hands.

  “Your Majesty danced this night with the Marquess of Pembroke!” Henry announced, moving on to the next lady as I dropped into a curtsey.

  “And I mean to dance one more with her,” said François. “I admit, Madam de la Marquise, for a while you had me wondering… I was sure that the girl I once knew would claim my hand, and yet, you played your part so well I doubted myself.”

  “Then I am pleased,” I said. “For I remember how you adored such spectacles when I had the pleasure of serving your beloved wife, Queen Claude.”

  “My dearest Claude,” François said, his eyes sad. “If
she had been here, my lady, she would have loved to see you again. I was never a good husband. I was not made to be a faithful man, but I loved her. She was a sweet, good woman. We sorrowed together when you were stolen from us. I had hoped to marry you to one of my friends, and keep you at my court.”

  “Fate selects different destinies for us all, Majesty.”

  His eyes flickered to Henry. “Indeed. I could never have offered you what my good brother has. Perhaps he has shown himself to be the braver man. I have heard of his pursuit of you, and what it has cost him. Yet, for all his pains, I know he would do it again, for love.”

  “As I would walk through hell-fire for him,” I said. François took my hand as the music resumed.

  “I wanted to dance with you when you were unmasked,” he said. “Although my Queen refused to obey me, I would have my brother and England know that I honour and accept you as his wife.”