by Diana Rubino
She smiled tightly. "She would be honored. So you will have all your estranged women around you."
His brows drew downwards. "What do you mean, estranged? You and I are not estranged. I love you as much as I always did, Amethyst, I am just very preoccupied right now."
"I understand, Henry. You needn't explain yourself to anyone. After all, you are the King," she said sardonically, turning her back on him to begin packing.
He slipped out silently without another word then, and she did not see him again, leaving the palace at daybreak the next morning, blaming herself as bitterly as the King for the way she had been supplanted so utterly when she herself could have, should have been queen.
At last she could understand some of her sister's bitterness. The crown of destiny that had been so close had slipped right through her hands. She had had it taken from her once by Anne Boleyn, and had allowed it to slip through her fingers, whereupon plain Jane Seymour had snatched it up without a moment's hesitation.
Worst of all, the bargain was null and void. Jane was indeed breeding, but the year was already long over. Her only hope now was that it would be a son, for only then could Amethyst possibly try to claim back at least part of the promise Henry had given her in recompense for renouncing her opportunity to be queen in favor of Jane.
If she could at least get her nephews free, she thought, as she headed north to Warwick, that would make it all worthwhile. With that thought she spurred her mount for home. But as she rose, she saw not the face of her sister Emerald or her mother Sabine, but of Matthew, the lads' father, and the only constant friend in her otherwise reeling world.
CHAPTER TEN
Amethyst entered the gatehouse of her beloved Warwick Castle and immediately sent a message to Matthew. A short time later, from her perch at the top of Guy's Tower, she could see his mount flying over the rich soil.
She called down to him from the battlements as soon as she saw him, and he tore up the stairs, reaching her in a matter of minutes. His breath was coming rapidly, but she knew it was out of excitement, for he was a fit man and hardly ever winded.
He clasped her in his arms and lifted her off the ground, twirling her around. Their laughter sang in the soft summer breeze as the sweeping landscape sped by. He placed her down and they stumbled dizzily over to the edge overlooking the Avon.
"What a lovely view. I have never been up here before!" he exclaimed, unlacing the front of his shirt with one hand, a gesture she found rather sensuous.
"Aye, it is my very favorite part of the castle. I've been up here in the dead of winter, at night when the stars are strewn across the sky... It is always nice to be up here."
"On top of the world," he replied, turning to her again, his green eyes sparkling like the sun's rays glinting off the river.
"I could have been," she said slowly, sighing, taking his hand, feeling him pulling her closer towards him. "He has Jane now. That's why he sent me home."
"For good?" he asked in shock, but with hope.
The eagerness in his voice was so obvious; it excited and saddened her at the same time.
She shook her head gently. "Nay, just until Jane brings forth his heir. He is ever so anxious. I am a mere distraction he would be better off without."
"Well, I can understand that. I would not want to be in his position. A lot is riding on a male heir."
She sighed. "I want to be reasonable, but the truth is, well, I feel so lost, Matthew. So empty. I who was once everything to the King have been pushed aside like a used rag. He has become so infatuated with Jane, he's grown foolish. He makes up silly songs which he sings to her. He gathers flowers from the garden and shoves them into goblets and gives them to her like a little boy... He has become a right child!"
"Well, then it is obvious... He has fallen in love with her."
"Who could ever have imagined he would become besotted with such a milksop." She shook her head in wonder.
"Amethyst, there is no reason for you to feel lost. You have your home, your castle, and your family. You have the lads. And, well—" He swallowed hard.
A breeze rumpled his shirt and she glimpsed the golden hairs on his chest, the color of soft buttercups sprinkling the fields. "You have me. Amethyst, I will always be here for you. I married the wrong sister, Amethyst. It should have been you. By the time I realized my mistake, it was too late. I love you, Amethyst. Oh, God, I love you so much. Have loved you for so long, if I ever dared but admit it."
So he had said it... What he'd been holding back for so long. What she had hoped to hear. Although she'd already fallen in love with him, she didn't feel that spiraling thrill of the expected revelation. It was all ruined now.
"Matthew, I fear I am barren," she said with a sigh and shake of her head. "I never would have given you those two beautiful lads."
"It doesn't matter. Amethyst," he insisted. "Leave court and marry me. I'll talk Topaz into giving me a divorce, and we can—"
There was that word again. That ugly word that had blighted her whole life. She held herself away from him then, shaking her head. "I am sorry, I can't. Truth to tell, Matthew, I've had enough of married men, and waiting for divorces. I wasted away half my youth waiting for Henry to divorce Catherine. How many times do you think I can go through that again?"
"Well, I am not King Henry. I will hardly need to start my own church to get a divorce when everyone knows we have not lived as man and wife for years. Please, Amethyst. Say you'll stay here where you belong and be mine. And when I divorce Topaz, marry me."
"You mean if you can divorce Topaz," she said bitterly.
"Then you would consider it? You would leave court and the King...for me?" he asked eagerly. His hands were clutching her bare arms, and she could feel his heat seeping into her, the warmth of his desire.
"If the King's affection for Jane continues to grow, I shall come back home," she said noncommittally. She knew she must, for she did not want to remain at court if Henry no longer loved her. She was beginning to think that it was a distinct possibility, though she never could have imagined it until now.
Moreover, she knew she wouldn't be able to fight her longing for Matthew much longer. "But I cannot consider marrying another man who is already married. I have had enough of that."
"Then I will seek a divorce. I must! Amethyst, I know you've heard that before. But I love you so much. I will do anything I can for us to be together, I swear."
Her eyes drank in the unlaced shirt, the strong chest and the muscled arms that held her so fervently. And when he tilted his head to touch her lips with his, she responded, her arms winding around his neck. With the summer sun blanketing them with warmth, they locked in an embrace that spoke of everything they'd been holding back, and which held the promise of much more to come.
The Tower of London, October 12, 1537
"Topaz..." Amethyst approached her sister, clutching a scroll, her face expressionless.
Topaz knew the day had come. It was October already, seven months since Queen Jane had announced her certainty of her child's impending arrival.
"This is it, Amethyst! I know you bear the news! What is it? Boy or girl? Jesu, don't keep me in suspense!" the outwardly trembling Topaz implored, her voice shaking, her fingers intertwined, her face drained of all color.
"Topaz..." She held the scroll out and stepped back so her sister wouldn't attack her. "The Queen has brought forth a prince. Though it is more than a year, as per the terms of the bargain, Henry has seen fit to keep his word now that it is a son. You and the boys are free."
"Oh, God!" Topaz dropped to her knees, lowered her head to the floor, stringy wisps of hair coiling around her. She sobbed, her body wracked with convulsions. "Oh, thank you, God, thank you, God!" Her muffled voice was barely audible as she gasped and thanked the Lord again and again.
Amethyst and the newly released Topaz attended Prince Edward's christening in the chapel at Hampton Court three days later. The Princess Mary, honoring her father's request,
stood godmother. The four-year-old Princess Elizabeth, having taken a shine to Amethyst, held her hand.
The King was radiant, beaming with an exultation Amethyst had never seen in him. Through her sorrow, it was not hard to realize why. All his life he had wished for a closeness resembling a family. Now he had two daughters who seemed in perfect amity, a new young wife whom he adored, and a most cherished, most wanted prince.
She smiled through her tears, happy only because he was finally happy.
As for herself and her own family, Topaz was appeased, and peace once more reigned over the kingdom. The boys were well, and they would soon all be heading home to Warwickshire, leaving the glitter of the court behind them in favor of more familial pursuits.
And if Matthew was a man of his word, they might soon be family again in every sense of the word, she thought with a thrill, and smiled even more broadly.
Then tragedy struck once more.
Amethyst sat with the King in his inner chamber and let him sob until he had no more left within him.
"Jane is dead. She has left me. God has taken my sweet dear Jane from me and our son, and has left us here to suffer on earth."
Jane had not attended the christening, as was the custom, but also because she had complained of feeling weak and unsteady. She had withstood the rigors of childbirth for nearly three days, until they had thought to perform the operation by which the baby might be cut out, but with the loss of the mother inevitable.
Then she had rallied and borne forth her son, with great difficulty. She had lain in bed and smiled wanly at all the ceremonies and festivities, but it was clear that she had developed the childbed fever, as had Henry's mother, and she had grown weaker with every passing day.
Henry, far from fleeing the sickroom, had kept a vigil by her bed for nine days, during which time she had passed in and out of delirium. He was there, at her bedside, when she finally slipped away, and had been weeping inconsolably ever since.
"I was there, Amethyst, I was there! Why could I not have brought her back? All the while, I held her hand, did not let go, and she left me, while still connected. As I held her one hand, God snatched her away by the other, right from my presence. My physical bond with her could not keep her here with me.
"Oh, how powerful we kings think we are until God's will enters, then we realize how weak and mortal we all are!" he wept. "God cares not that I am a king, that I need sons to make my kingdom strong, that I need good women as my queen, not power hungry schemers. I am a mere servant, and should it be His will to take away what is mine and make it His. If He decides, then it is to be! I am as powerless as a peasant compared with the might of the Lord."
He was rambling, and all Amethyst could do was sit patiently and let it gush forth until spent itself, as she had always done through all his other tragedies. Though they had now added up to quite a few, she knew that it was her duty to once more try to comfort him with her presence, should he not desire words of condolence.
Suddenly, he began to blame Anne again. "That witch. She curses me, continues to plague me! Why, even if I had her rotting body exhumed and burned like the witch she was, like I did with that deplorable Thomas a Becket, her soul would continue to plague me, for it is her soul that lives! Her body is but a headless putrefying corpse, but her soul, oh, her soul is very much alive, intact, and will not leave me alone! I am in torment!"
He began screaming at Anne, the Anne that was visible to no one but the eye of his mind that saw her, beheld her, and illogically but continually entertained her presence.
"Cease to control my life, Anne," he ranted. "Quit me and my family, go on to another victim, just leave me and let me live my remaining years in peace, free from your evil spells and doings! Revenge is what you wished, I know, and you have achieved your ends! I stand here in defeat. I acknowledge your power, I have relinquished you from your earthly restraints, so go about the spirit world among your fellow demons and let me live in peace among the living."
"Sire..." Amethyst whispered, holding a golden goblet to his dry, cracked lips. "Please drink some wine. You must calm down and think of your son, who needs you now more than ever."
He took a gulp, and she wiped a trickle that had run down his chin. She didn't even know if he was aware who was with him. It mattered not to her whether he remembered; the important thing was he'd called for her and she was there.
"You have a strong, healthy son. Anne is dead. She cannot take him away. Not if you are always vigilant. You are not cursed, for you have the very thing you have wished for these many years. Take comfort in that and let you both live and grow in love, father and son, along with your lovely daughters."
He nodded. "Aye, I do have three children yet living, which is more than I can say for many another man. A son. At last. I at least have one son at last."
She simply held the goblet to his lips, let him drink, and when his meal came, she fed it to him. He took it in, reflexively, chewing, swallowing, yet not tasting. The food he normally so vehemently relished and enjoyed as a sensual interlude passed through him merely to sustain his body.
He then closed his eyes and slept, as did baby Edward in the next chamber, wrapped in Amethyst's comforting arms as she vowed that this time, all would be well in Henry's family and he was now once more free to choose a queen. This time, the well-being of the babe was at stake. And though she loved Matthew, she had to do her duty to the realm and be there for the poor motherless babe and see that he grew up strong and well.
Jane's body was interred in Windsor Castle's Saint George's Chapel, and Henry decided when his time came, he would be placed next to her, the mother of his only prince, to lie side by side with her throughout eternity. Lady Mary served as chief mourner for her stepmother, for the King was so bowed with grief he could not manage his duties without weeping.
He retreated into his chambers for several weeks, and emerged only to attend council meetings, causing great comment and concern amongst the courtiers. Amethyst knew he was not only mourning a woman he had fallen in love with and been happy with, he was thinking of all that might have been had she lived. Perhaps even of more children in the fullness of time. He had become so used to having everything his way. To be denied thus had been a shock it was hard for him to recover from.
One night, he summoned Amethyst to his chamber and she obediently complied, with a feeling that he finally felt he was ready to make love to her.
She realized she'd guessed correctly when she entered his retiring room and found him hunched over a wine goblet at his writing desk. His burly arms were supporting his chin, his eyes stared straight ahead, not turning to look her way when she entered, but fixed steadily on the dying embers in the hearth. She could tell he was engrossed in thought and did not disturb him until he was ready. She guessed he was thinking of Jane.
A minute later, he heaved a deep sigh and, running his hands over his now-thinning hair, gave her a half-smile, motioning her to sit.
"Amethyst, I did you a terrible disservice and I beg you to forgive me."
She blinked at the change in him. He had never been so humble before. "Do not apologize, my lord. You are in deep mourning and I am here to comfort you."
"Amethyst, I would have died of loneliness had you not been here when I needed you. I need you, my love, like I have never needed another human being. Through it all, you have always been by my side. And that is where I want you to stay. Become my queen. I have my heir, the kingdom is secured. All I want is for you to reign with me through the rest of my days. No matter that you fear you are barren. You belong at my side and will make an admirable queen and stepmother."
Her jaw had dropped at the first words of his proposal. "Please, my lord, Jane is only dead a few weeks. You mustn't think of remarrying so soon."
"I must! I must have you by my side. I don't want to lose you again, or what we share. Please. Say yes."
She nodded, not able to bear the despair in his eyes. "I shall marry you, my lord. But not while y
ou are still in mourning."
"Oh, Amethyst..." he sighed, a deep, heavy sigh that came from the depths of his soul. "I am sorry to have hurt you. I just don't know how it happened. Jane was such a mouse, so plain and quiet. Then she blossomed into a beauty, and I simply could not stand being without her. She was so sincere, so soft-spoken; oh, lacking in your fire and passion, of course, lacking your spirited allure, but that is what I found so compelling about her...
"I simply wanted to take that wilting flower and watch it bloom, and bloom she did. I did not mean to turn you away, and when you were gone, I missed you more than ever."
"Please do not bother to explain, Henry," she said, barely managing to keep the edge out of her voice, and thinking all the while of a pair of sparkling green eyes and rapturous kisses. "I understand. You asked for me, and I am back. I shall help you through your period of grief, and then perhaps later we can discuss a marriage, after Christmas, after the New Year. At least let a new year enter our lives before we make so vast a decision."