Above All Others

by G Lawrence

  Mary pointed down to the bottom of the park where there were long, flat marshlands; good ground for hunting with falcons. She pointed out the small patches of woodland that remained, the rest having been removed to make ships for the King’s navy, and said she had seen wild deer here, and believed they would make fine hunting if the King permitted it.

  Eventually, as we walked quietly, I turned to her before my courage could flee, and spoke rapidly, gabbling at her. “Mary… the King has asked me to be his wife.”

  There was no surprise on her face, but a small sad smile flitted across it briefly and she stopped walking. She faced me, weaving a long, tough strand of grass through her fingers. “You were afraid I would hate you,” she said, her face calm. There was no question in her words. It was what my heart had feared, in truth.

  “Yes…” I answered honestly and looked at her, biting my lip. “Do you?”

  She slowly drew breath through her nose and puckered her lips in thought. She drew the white-cream seed head of the grass stem through her fingers again, lingering over it as though it were a bolt of finest silk. “I had thought I might,” she admitted. “It is not easy, Anne, to be a man’s lover, to bear his children… And then to be cast off. Politely… yes… but still, cast off, so that the same man might chase your younger sister and offer her what he never thought to offer you.” She paused. “Yes,” she said, her keen eyes upon my face. “It is a difficult. To find yourself replaced, so easily, as easily as first you were taken, as first you were loved…” She paused and my heart tripped over its own beats. Sweat pearled on my brow and my fingers were cold despite the heat of the day. “Do you love him, Anne?” she asked.

  I hesitated. I could lie, as I had hidden the depths of my emotions from my father and uncle… But I knew Mary would see through me where they could not. “Yes,” I replied simply. I had no true wish or want to lie to my sister. Perhaps for the first time, I had someone I could confide in.

  “I have had little experience of love, Mary. I have had none of the lovers that you and George have had. I know not much of the ways of love. There was a time when I believed I loved Henry Percy, but it was not love, not really. I placed all my desires and ambitions within his form... I made a construction of my fantasies and pushed them into his skin. But it was a lie. And he… he thought I was unworthy of him, as the Cardinal told him I was. If a man will not fight for love, then it is not love at all. I see so clearly now…. All that was once between Percy and I was false. There was a time when I thought I could love Tom Wyatt, but I never allowed my heart to open to him. But with the King, with Henry…”

  I paused and stared into her deep brown eyes, like pools of dark honey they shone back at me. “With Henry… when he is near me there are such emotions in my breast, in my blood… Sometimes I believe I will drown in their intensity. I am drawn to him, excited by him, challenged by him. In some ways, I feel he is but another part of my soul, one I never knew was separate from me. What is this, if not love? When I am with him, there is nothing missing in my life. He is all the company I should ever need or want… I do not deny there is a part of me that loves all he has offered. It is a dazzling future… to become a queen. But I would love him even if he were a pauper. I would love him even if it meant my own destruction.” I breathed in. “I love him, sister. He is my friend, he is my passion. He is my calm rest and my excited hope. He is my past, my future and my present. I want for nothing when I have him. I have found where I was supposed to be. As though I have found my home, in him. Yes, Mary, I do love him.”

  Mary regarded me steadily. I could almost see her mind thrashing away like a waterwheel. Then she smiled and shook her head. “I never felt that way about him,” she said. “When I first saw him, I thought of him as a great man. I admired his handsome face and fine form, and as we came together I adored our embraces,” she paused. “But I never loved him, Anne. It is a giddy experience to have someone as noble and as widely desired as Henry of England turn to you and beckon. I could not resist it.”

  Mary tilted her head to one side. “I thought that I would feel more jealousy than I do, if I am honest with you, sister… but my affair with the King is long gone. I am not unhappy with my lot. I have my children and I have Will. I cannot be sad for losing Henry, when I have gained so much. I love my family and I would not have them if not for the King, but I do not mourn that I have his affection no longer.”

  She breathed in deeply. “Anna, you are my sister and I will support you. If you love Henry, then you should be with him. I will see you married. I will drink your health without rancour even though you are to wed the man who may be the father of my children. I bear you no ill-will… No one chooses to whom they give their hearts. You love him, and so it is done. You have your path and I have mine, and you will always have my love and support; that I swear to you. If you love him, Anne, you must do all you can to have him.” Mary put her hands on the sides of my arms. “But heed my warning on one matter.”

  “What is it?”

  “That until you are sure this marriage will take place, you will not share his bed.” Her face turned grave. “Remember, I have known him longer than you. I am sure his present promises to you are real and that he means them, but Henry is a boy at heart, Anne. He tires easily of his toys. If you do not hold out until you are married or have some firm assurance that the marriage will come to pass, you will regret it. I am sure he loves you, sister. But his love can be fickle.” She looked at me closely. “Do not let your desire for him blind you to his nature. Understand where your own power lies. He wants to possess you entirely… He wants you as his own. Do you understand? If you give yourself to him, you could lose all that you so desire. If I am right, Henry will respect you more for not giving in, even if it does frustrate him.”

  She was so serious and so grave that I nodded dumbly. Her advice was sound and echoed my own thoughts. It was not as though I wished to believe ill of Henry, but I had been raised to think thusly of the passions of all men. I had to keep Henry. I had to hold his interest. Before marriage, I would be the prize he was aiming for, the prey he would chase. And once we were married, I would be the one to give him the sons for which he so longed. In such ways, my position would always be secure.

  “Come now.” She grinned suddenly, a smile breaking through her seriousness. “We should not be so grave. Just think…” She dropped the stem of grass and held her hands out. She held me at arms’ length, running her eyes over me. “My little horse-haired sister is to become Queen of England! What a fine mare you will be wearing a crown!”

  She giggled as I aimed a cuff at her for this old insult of our youth and she danced out of the way. Although child-bearing had given her some thickness of waist, she was as nimble and light on her feet as she ever had been when we were girls. To my eyes, her generous curves gave her a new kind of beauty.

  “You will stay a few days, Anne? At least?” She entwined her arm with mine. “Will is here, and will be happy to see you. He has just as many plans as father does for how you may further advance us at court.” Mary lifted her eyebrows playfully and laughed throatily as I groaned, but I knew she was teasing me. Will was doing well enough at court without help. Henry was fond of him, and unlike my brother, Will had not lost his place in the Privy Chamber as a result of Wolsey’s ordinances. Clearly, Wolsey believed George was a greater threat than Will. The Cardinal feared any who might steal the King’s love away from him.

  “And I should like to share some days with you,” she went on. “It has been long since we had much time together, and now you are on such a great path, I feel that these family visits shall be much interrupted. For a while, at least, it will be nice to have you as my sister, before I must mark every meeting with you by bowing to my Queen.”

  “I am no Queen yet,” I sighed.

  “It will not be long, I think,” Mary said as she led me into the great hall.

  It was one of the few occasions when Mary was wrong.

  Chapter Five


  Wiltshire

  Summer 1527

  Whilst I was still with the Careys, my mother sent on a letter from Henry. He wrote that Wolsey was to go to overseas to gain support from François de Valois, King of France, for the annulment. Wolsey would convince François to help Henry restore Pope Clement to full power, taking him from the clutches of Katherine’s nephew, Charles, King of Spain and Holy Roman Emperor, who had been occupying the Pope’s lands for some years now. Spain and France were still at war over Italy, and it was hoped, by England and France, that French forces would break through and remove the Emperor’s troops from the Pope’s lands. Cardinal Wolsey was to entice François with promises that Henry would wed a princess of France once freed from his marriage to Katherine.

  “It is, of course, sweetheart, not so,” Henry wrote, his words scribbled rapidly upon the parchment as he sought to reassure me he was not about to abandon me for a foreign bride. “But suggestions of marriage here will allow us to bargain more effectively with the French King, and bring about our wishes with more speed. Be ever assured of my love for you, and my impatience to look upon your face once more. To find myself in your loving arms, and kiss the lips I dream of every night.

  Written with the hand and the heart that is ever yours, I remain

  Your loving servant,

  Henry R.”

  I passed the letter to Mary to read and she nodded at it a few times. She handed it back and frowned at my worried face. “He loves you, Anne,” she consoled, squeezing my shoulder. “And see? He does not keep anything from you. That is a good sign.”

  Mary had heard often during my short visit about my frustration at being left without information. She had listened with patience, and sought now to reassure me. I did not feel so at ease. “I should be there,” I said fretfully. “I am sorry, sister, but I will leave on the morrow with the first light. No matter what is written here, I fear what Wolsey may convince Henry of… That snake could convince anyone of anything.”

  “No one can convince another person who is in love that they are not in love,” replied my wise sister. “There is no tongue in all the world that has such power. Calm your fears, Anne… Henry loves you.”

  I agreed with her. I tried to heed her. But still, I worried.

  The next morning, before we were to ride out, my mother sent word from Hever that I was unlikely now to catch the King and his party before they left London for summer progress. Realising this, Henry had sent word that he would instead meet me at Beaulieu Palace, in Essex. Katherine was to accompany Henry on progress, but when he came to Beaulieu, he was to come without her. My mother wrote that I should return to Hever and meet her; she would come to Beaulieu with me as my chaperone, for the sake of appearances. When I got back to Hever, there was another letter waiting for me from Henry.

  “Soon you and I shall be man and wife in truth, my dearest love; once Wolsey returns from France we shall have the support of François to help our cause in the eyes of the Pope. But until then, you must not be seen to be the reason why all this should come about. I will not have your reputation tarnished, my beloved. But the thought of a whole summer without you is unbearable, so I have arranged that you and your mother shall take up residence at Beaulieu and there shall I come to you, in secret.”

  I wrote back, telling him I loved him, and of my impatience to see him again. “We have been too long apart, my love,” I wrote. “I fear every day that some chance event will take me from you; that you will turn your eyes from me and love me no more. Do not let us be parted for so long a time again. I cannot bear this separation.”

  When his reply came, I was struck by the force and intensity of his words. He was grieved, he wrote, more grieved than he could express that I would fear such a thing, but so happy to hear I loved him as he loved me. “I hope soon to have you in my arms, where I will convince you with the force of my love that there is no cause to fear or be troubled, even when we are apart. When we are once more together I shall kiss your lips, and lean my head against your pretty breasts and tell you of my love for you. Soon there will come a time when we are parted no more, and will be joined together, forever, in the eyes of God and man. My heart is yours. Trust in me and in our love.

  Written with the hand and heart that is yours alone,

  Your servant

  HR.”

  God in Heaven! How I wanted to see him again! I went to Beaulieu, with my mother and tried to wait patiently for Henry to come to me.

  Chapter Six

  Beaulieu Palace

  Summer 1527

  Beaulieu was as beautiful as its name; a quiet palace situated in a great park. I knew the place well, of course; Will had been the warden of this palace for Henry in days passed, and Mary had given birth here. But I came to it this time with new eyes that saw not the past, but the glorious future I would have.

  I was impatient to see Henry. I spent my days trying to be occupied, but every day willing him to get there faster. I wanted to know that my fears and frustrations were groundless. I wanted to feel his body close to mine. I wanted to know the touch of his lips. I wanted to know that all of this was not a dream.

  In the days before Henry arrived, I filled my time by inspecting and choosing falcons with which to hunt. I talked to Beaulieu’s Master of Game to find the best and most secluded hunting grounds. I left it to my more than able mother to instruct the kitchens. She had grand feasts planned, and intimate suppers, too, for Henry and me to enjoy in the private chambers. I wondered how well I would be able to resist my ardent suitor here in this secluded place. I wondered also how much I wanted to resist him. Everything in me was calling for him. I felt myself overcome with desire imagining him on me, his hands upon my body, his lips on my skin… No woman has burned as I did then, thinking of a lover I wanted, who wanted me… a lover I could not take.

  Eventually, Henry and his party swept into the courtyard in a flurry of clattering hooves and loud shouting. I raced down to meet them and there he was, his eyes searching the crowds of servants, looking only for me. His golden-red hair shone in the sunlight from under his dark cap. His beard had been trimmed anew, and his eyes were blue and bold as the sea. I ran forwards, suddenly weak at seeing him after our weeks of separation. He caught me in his arms and laughed heartily. His eyes sparkled and his kisses were those of a man dying for thirst of me. Much of my fear melted away. I could feel his eagerness, his desire, his love, in every kiss.

  “How I have missed you, my Anne!” he crowed as he kissed me again and again; on the lips, on the cheek, on the throat. His travelling party excused themselves swiftly and made for the kitchens to take ale and bread. My mother hovered at the edge of the courtyard, her back to us as she inspected the stones of the red-bricked walls with much interest as Henry held me to him.

  “I have missed you too, Henry,” I laughed, trying to pry him from my body as his eager hands roamed over me.

  “I love this neck,” he whispered, burrowing his head into my white skin and breathing in the scent of my rose perfume. “I have dreamed of this neck…” His lips stumbled across my skin, over my throat and down to my chest.

  “Release me, my lord!” I giggled, my own senses excited by his closeness. There were such sensations flowing through me, wild and untamed… If I did not stop him now, I would be unable to stop myself at all. “Come,” I struggled free of his embrace, earning a lustful glare from Henry for having escaping his clutches. “My mother, my lord,” I inclined my head to the distant figure at his back, “…has made great preparation for your arrival.”

  At that, his face flamed and I giggled. He whipped around to see my mother who was still turned resolutely from us, gazing up at the beautiful windows as though she had never seen one before. Henry glanced back ruefully at me, his cheeks delightfully pink. He looked like a boy caught stealing soft honey tarts from under the kitchen maid’s nose.

  “Elizabeth!” he cried warmly, covering his embarrassment by marching brisk and merrily towards her
. He embraced her with affection, refusing to allow her to bow to him. Henry kissed her on the lips and put her arm through his. Walking towards me, he stopped and offered his free arm to me, and together we walked into the house as servants rushed to bring us ale and wine.

  We stayed there for a month; a perfect month together with my mother acting as a distant and often easily-distracted chaperone. Henry had told the court and Katherine he was hunting with his close friends. As he so often took off with a small party, it was an easy rendezvous to arrange. Since I was supposed to be at court also, word had been sent to Katherine I was unwell, and would re-join her household when recovered. There were many of Henry’s advisors and close friends happy to keep his favour by covering his visit to Beaulieu. They had done so many times before, when Henry wanted to spend time with a mistress without his wife knowing. They did not know, however, that I was no ordinary mistress.