Above All Others

by G Lawrence

  And all that I had spoken was the truth, whether Katherine wanted to believe it or not. If she wanted what was best for England, then she would stand down. If she could not see she was acting in a prideful and sinful manner, then she would need to be shown the error of her ways by Henry… And I would be there to make sure he did so.

  Chapter Eight

  Richmond Palace

  Summer’s End 1527

  A new lady-in-waiting entered the Queen’s household that season. She was a relative of mine, distantly, and although I thought little of her then, there came a time much later when I knew her as one of my greatest enemies. She sought me out when she arrived at court, as her mother had told her to, to ask for my friendship and advice, beholden through our family ties.

  Jane Seymour was my cousin. Her mother was Margery Wentworth, whose mother, Anne Say, had also been the mother of Elizabeth Tilney by her first marriage. Elizabeth Tilney had been my mother’s mother, making Jane my second cousin. Although Jane had served briefly in the household of the Duchess of Suffolk, she had made an impression on Katherine, and the Queen had asked Jane to enter her service.

  Jane was eager to meet her relatives at court, no matter how distant, to claim kinship and gain aid in advancement. Her brother, Edward, served in the household of the young Duke of Richmond, who was Henry’s bastard son by Bessie Blount, and Jane was as keen to advance as her brother. She was a plain and pale creature. Although her features were not unpleasing, she easily disappeared into the background at court. I wondered what Katherine had noted in her. Jane was like a pale shadow which seemed to vanish as soon as you tried to look directly at it; an indistinct haze hovering over cobblestones heated by the sun. Outwardly meek, quiet and demure, I thought she was not likely to shine in the brilliant Court of England. Here, it was women like me who were noticed; women who were bold, witty and talented… I could not see Jane putting herself forward, and as such, she would go unnoticed. I dismissed her as unimportant. But still, family is family, and I considered it might be helpful to gain another supporter.

  “You must do your duties quietly and carefully to gain the affection of the Queen,” I advised as we stood in my father’s chambers at Richmond. “You seem intelligent enough, and you are humble and meek. She will like that. Do you read Latin? The Queen enjoys hearing works of devotion read aloud in her chambers.”

  Jane shook her head. “I do not know how to read or write much, cousin, and I do not know any Latin or French,” she murmured. “I can sign my name, and read a little… but my father did not believe that reading and writing were honourable or necessary pursuits for women.”

  I lifted my eyebrows. “But you know your prayers and Scripture, I am sure?”

  She nodded her pale face at me earnestly. “I learned by heart all that was thought appropriate for me to know.”

  A touch of despair fluttered in my heart. To not know how to read! What a curse! What joys my cousin was missing because of her father’s antiquated belief in keeping his daughters’ minds empty of thought. If I had been without literature in my life, I knew it would have been of detriment to me and to my character… And to not know the joys of reading the Word of God for oneself? I could hardly imagine such a hideous fate. For a moment I pitied the young girl. Looking on her almost translucent skin, I wondered how her father thought she was going to attract a husband. Although, I reasoned, there are men who prefer a foolish wife to a clever one… Perhaps her father could find her one of those to wed. She came from a fertile family, so perhaps she would be offered as naught but a breed-mare for some husband. That, it seemed to me then, could be her sole allure.

  Jane was watching me quietly. There is nothing in her, I thought, that I could ever find interesting. I thought of my friends at court, of Mary and Bridget. They were ladies of snap and fire. They were women with whom I could talk on current events and literature, on reform and new thought. Jane was not likely to become one of my intimates… for how long can one converse on the state of the weather, even in England where the subject is so often and avidly discussed?

  “The Queen will like your quietness and your virtue,” I reassured her kindly, thinking that I should praise something about her. I felt sorry for the plain, simple creature. That was swiftly to change…

  “Does she like your virtues, cousin?” Jane asked carefully. I started, suddenly unnerved by her steady blue eyes and those words, which seemed so innocent, and yet belied darker meaning underneath.

  “What do you mean?” I drew her closer to the fire in my chamber, away from the ears of the servants. Perfumed juniper logs burnt hot and bright in the hearth, sending richly scented smoke out to linger in the chamber. The flames leapt as we stepped near, as though they, too, wanted to know more from this pallid girl.

  Jane hesitated. “There are rumours…”

  “Of what?” I grabbed her arm. My temper had been frayed of late, and it ever got the better of me even when I was not beset by such pressures and worries. She did not move from my sharp grasp, but she did wince as my fingernails dug into her arm through the velvet plush of her rather ill-fitting, russet gown. With the eye I had for clothing and design, I believed her dress had originally been made for a back other than hers.

  “There are rumours that perhaps you do not love the Queen as you love the King, cousin,” she said. “They say that the Queen is sad because you have taken the King’s heart from her.”

  “They,” I snapped, “can say what they wish. The more time you spend at court, cousin Jane, the more you will realise that listening to rumour does not help a lady here. She is better off making her own judgements than bending to the will and gossip of others.”

  Jane removed her arm gently from my hold. “I shall endeavour to take your advice, cousin Anne.” She folded her arms softly, tucking her hands into the folds of her over-hanging sleeves of poor, thin, furs. “I shall make my own judgements.”

  I nodded, still frowning at her. I had not expected much of such a mouse, but it seemed my colourless cousin had some mettle in her after all. “Now,” I went on, attempting to ignore her last comment. “Let me show you the Queen’s chambers and introduce you to your duties there. Although you are new to the court, I have been here some time and before this I was in service to Queen Claude of France and Margaret, Archduchess of Austria. I can show you how to be a good servant to the Queen.”

  Jane smiled without humour. “I long to benefit from your… experience, cousin.”

  I looked at her sharply, but there was nothing on her face to prove my suspicion that she was insinuating anything. I lifted my chin and she followed me from my chambers to the rich apartments of the Queen. I told her of her duties and her allowances. She was entitled to three meals per day and would receive slight wages. She had the privilege of keeping a hound, but only a small one and a maid for her own use. Jane nodded to each of these in silence, but yet I still wondered on this creature. She seemed like such a nonentity that I could hardly believe there was intelligence under her skin, and yet… her sly way of answering made me ponder. There was something underneath, I knew there was. Some measure of furtive intelligence. I could almost smell it.

  But after I delivered her to the Mother of the Maids, I thought little more on her. As the days went on, it was obvious that Jane liked the Queen, and admired her. Jane’s liking for Katherine was not going to make her a friend of mine. But to me, then, Jane was just another lady supporting the wrong side. Katherine had plenty of supporters and they would all be shown how wrong they were. I was determined that these insignificant people would not stop me. One day Henry and I would be together, and these people would see we were right. Although for me, the Great Matter was moving too slowly. Wolsey was in France, trying to secure François’s support. Henry assured me that all would be well as soon as the Cardinal returned. I was unsure. Although I knew Wolsey would do anything to help please Henry, I wondered if the support of the French would do much to tip the scales unless they won the war in Italy. Wo
uld the idea of a union between France and England be enough to frighten the Emperor into releasing the Pope? I knew not. This all smelt like another chance for Wolsey to increase his personal power and prestige. My nose liked not that stench.

  I also knew the Cardinal did not like me. Years had passed since Wolsey had ruined my chances with Henry Percy and shamed me, shouting at me that I was a silly girl and that I came from a family of whores… but I remembered it well. Wolsey was going to get an unpleasant shock when he found out about me. In some ways, I could hardly wait to surprise the great fat bat. In other ways I feared that when the Cardinal found out about Henry’s intentions he would become my enemy.

  The Cardinal was the most powerful and wealthiest man in England. He was Archbishop of York, Lord Chancellor of England and a Prince of the Church. He had Henry’s love and he did everything for him. I did not believe, once Wolsey knew of Henry’s intentions, he would work to honour them. I was troubled about the future and of what may happen to me once the Cardinal knew I could one day become his Queen.

  Chapter Nine

  Hever Castle

  Summer’s End 1527

  “Katherine is not cruel to you, is she?” Henry asked worriedly.

  I had decided to leave court, feeling the pressure of Katherine’s dislike weighing too heavily upon my shoulders. Henry promised he would ride out to see me as soon as he could, and was sad that I was choosing to leave. “My mistress has heavy hands, my lord,” I said carefully. “And she uses them to chastise me because she knows that you love me, and not her.”

  Henry looked angry at this, but what could he do? He could hardly demand that Katherine treat me respectfully without bringing our relationship out into the open. I suspected this was what Katherine wanted; to trick us into revealing our love and have evidence of infidelity to use against both me and Henry.

  “I cannot continue to serve her, Henry.” I put my hands into his. “Not only because she slaps and pinches me to try to get me to fight her, or disclose something of you and me, but because in her presence, I know how far I am from you. She stands between us.”

  Henry was overcome with remorse. “I will make all things right, Anne,” he promised. “I will find another way for us to be together, without Katherine.”

  I took my leave of Katherine and she did not ask where I was going. She probably assumed that, much as he had with my sister, Henry was arranging to meet with me somewhere so that we could be together without the entire court watching.

  Henry rode out to see me within a week, just as autumn came to Hever. Many of the trees were still green and lush, but the edges of their leaves had begun to show golden lights, bronzed-browns and bright yellows. Servants were working to harvest our crops, and the kitchens were busy baking, boiling and preserving late summer fruits into pies, jams and jellies. Piles of medlars sat waiting to soften and shrivel, for they were better to make into preserves when slightly turned. There was a scent of sweetness on the air from the early morn until the humid dusk. When I lifted my nose, I would smell cherry, apple, plum, quince and pear cooking in vast pots over the roaring fires of the kitchens.

  Henry could only come for a day or two at the most when he visited. To tarry longer would lead Katherine to suspect he was with me. We made the most of every short visit. At night, when Henry and I finished the delicious courses the kitchens prepared for us, plates of stewed plums, juicy roasted pears and slices of poached apples would be brought in. We skewered these slices of fruit, slippery and succulent on our jewelled knives, putting them to our plate and then to our mouths. The honey-rich sweetness stole over our pink tongues and the last vestige of sourness would catch at the back of our mouths as we swallowed, making our mouths water.

  I loved cherries and strawberries above all other fruit. When pies and sauces came rich and purple-red inside their golden-buttered crust, sparkling with sugar, I always had to sample them. Henry, too, loved these fruits, and when he visited I ensured the kitchens knew his favourite dishes, so they understood which ones were the most important to get right for the table. Henry was never displeased with his food in our house. I made sure of that. I was going to be a wife and a queen someday, and it was a wife’s duty to ensure her husband ate well, and hearty. And besides, I loved to please him. He was charming when he was happy.

  We feasted upon pottages, green with fresh summer herbs and white wine, platters of carved, roasted venison and rabbit from Hever’s captive warrens. Sticky-sweet roasted hog and fried balls of mutton would grace the table next and when Henry had eaten his fill, I called for servants to bring in the carefully prepared dishes of marchpane and gingerbread carved into shapes of the Tudor rose. I made sure that there were always stocks of quince marmalade in the kitchens, for that delight was a great favourite of Henry’s. It would be sliced into thick, glistening sugary slices and brought to us to eat on thin wafers. For each new visit I tried to have something new to surprise him with. I called on our kitchens to make jellies of hippocras, moulded into the shapes of animals, such as the dun cow or dragon emblems of the Tudors. Such creations were highly expensive to create, as sugar was a valuable spice, but my father’s purse strings relaxed noticeably when the King came to call. The King could demand goods at a lower price for his court than any other person in the land, but the Boleyns could not… not yet, at least. Henry’s visits were most testing for my father’s coffers, but I assured father that the eventual rewards would outweigh any coin he spent now.

  When Henry sat at the head of our table, full-bellied and content, with my mother and I sitting beside him, he would look about him and smile. His mouth stained from the rich wine, and his eyes gentle and tipsy for love of me and pleasure in all he had consumed. He was a creature of earthly delights, my Henry, for there were few things which made him happier than a fine horse to ride, and then a good meal eaten in happy company, at the day’s end.

  We washed our hands in silver fingerbowls, and then left to talk together at the fireside, or play at cards or chess. I never allowed him to win if I was able to beat him, and I think he enjoyed this, for when he won, he knew he had done so in truth and not for false flattery. There was a great sense of pride that he took, too, in the times when I won. He took this as proof of my intelligence, and rejoiced in it.

  “I would not want a foolish wife,” he said when I had won a small fortune from him. He lay his cards down and slid his hands across the table, claiming mine. “My Queen will be the cleverest and the most beautiful woman in the world,” he continued, his eyes tender. Those blue eyes… When I wish to remember them happily, I think of such times as those. When his eyes were made soft like a warming pool between the rocks on the shore, the sun fractured over its still surface, glinting with sweet light. There were other times, much later, when I would see those eyes turn to blue fire, to frozen ice, to mirror the ocean tempests as they raged in froth and foam…

  “And my husband is the only man who can beat me,” I purred, lacing my long, slim fingers through his large ones. Henry chuckled, gripping my fingers possessively.

  “As is the way it should be… think you not, sweetheart?” he asked merrily. “In us, there is a meeting of equals… equal minds of wit and wisdom, equal spirits of fire and courage… We were meant for each other. God has given you to me, Anne.”

  “And I will thank Him forever for His goodness,” I murmured. Henry lowered his head, released the tops of my fingers and kissed them one by one. The sensation was alluring, teasing… I wished we could be together, alone, unheeded by the world, unseen by the court, by Katherine. Just Henry, just me…

  Henry gazed at me hungrily and then he sighed. “Dance with me, Anne.” He lifted his chin to the musicians at the edge of the room who were playing gently, trying to be unobtrusive. “A more rousing song!” he called, pulling my hand and leading me to the centre of the hall. “And perhaps I shall be able to dance off my desire for you, my love,” he laughed quietly into my ear, “for it seems all you have to do is look at me, and
I am a man who knows not if his strength can resist such a dazzling creature.”

  I chuckled, releasing his hand to stand opposite him. The musicians struck the first chord, and I spread my arms upwards, my hanging sleeves accentuating the slim, lithe lines of my body. Henry bowed, his eyes roaming over me. The dance began. I tripped and slipped through the elegant motions, sliding my foot to elongate my form, leaping to clap, twist and turn in perfect time with the music. Henry bounded like the most elegant of stags, alive with grace and energy. His high leaps caused servants to pause as they went from one task to another. They stopped in the corridor, their eyes fixed on Henry. They watched me too, I could see them. I made a perfect balance to Henry. As he sprang and bounded, I slipped and skipped. He danced about me as I moved slow and sensuously, each step taken as though we had trained together all our lives.

  But the dance did not relieve our desire; it only increased it. We came together, his hands about my waist as he spun me, and tight on my sides as he lifted me… my body sliding down his as he brought me down from the lift… It was torture to be so close to the one whom you desired above all others in this world, and yet be allowed nothing but a kiss.