The Boleyn Inheritance Part 22

"The queen is eager to see you, " he says. "We have all missed you. "

I smile and look down. This is not modesty; it is to prevent me from laughing out loud. This man missed me so much that he was gathering evidence to prove that I had emasculated the king through witchcraft, an accusation that would have taken me to the scaffold before anyone could have saved me.

I look up. "I am very grateful for your friendship, " I say dryly.

We go in through the garden door, and there are half a dozen pages and young lords who used to be in my household loitering between the door and the queen's rooms to bow and greet me. I am more moved than I dare to show, but when one young page dashes up to me, kneels, and kisses my hand, I have to swallow down the tears and keep my head up. I was their mistress for such a short time, just six months, it is touching to me to think that they care for me still, even though another girl lives in my rooms and takes their service.

The duke grimaces but says nothing. I am far too cautious to comment, so the two of us behave as if all the people on the stairs and in the halls and the whispered blessings are absolutely normal. He leads the way to the queen's rooms, and the soldiers at the double doors throw them open at his nod and bellow, "Her Grace, the d.u.c.h.ess of Cleves, " and I go in.

The throne is empty. This is my first bemused impression, and I almost think, for one mad moment, that it has all been a joke, one of the famous English jokes, and the duke is about to turn to me and say, "Of course you are queen; take your place again! " and we will all laugh and everything will be as it was.

But then I see that the throne is empty because the queen is on the floor playing with a ball of wool and a kitten, and her ladies are rising to their feet, very dignified and bowing, with immaculate care to the right depth for royalty, but only minor royalty, and at last that child Kitty Howard looks up and sees me and cries out, "Your Grace! " and dashes toward me.

One glance from her uncle tells me how unwelcome would be any sign of intimacy or affection. Down I go into a curtsy as deep as I would show to the king himself.

"Queen Katherine, " I say firmly.

My tone steadies her, and my curtsy reminds her that we have to play this out before many spies, and she halts in her run and wavers into a small curtsy to me. "d.u.c.h.ess, " she says faintly.

I rise up. I so want to tell her that it is all right, that we can be as we were, something like sisters, something like friends, but we have to wait until the chamber door is shut. It must be secret.

"I am honored by your invitation, Your Grace, " I say solemnly. "And I am very glad to share the Christmas feast with you and your husband, His Majesty the king, G.o.d bless him. "

She gives a little uncertain laugh and then, when I look promptingly at her, she glances at her uncle and replies: "We are delighted to have you at our court. My husband the king embraces you as his sister, and so do I. "

Then she steps toward me, as clearly she has been told to do only it flew out of her head the moment she saw me, and offers me her royal cheek to kiss.

The duke observes this and announces: "His Majesty the king tells me that he will dine here with you two ladies this evening. "

"Then we must make him welcome, " Katherine says. She turns to Lady Rochford and says: "The d.u.c.h.ess and I will sit in my privy chamber while the room is being readied for dinner. We will sit alone, " and then she sails toward my *her *privy chamber as if she had owned it all her life, and I find myself following in her wake.

As soon as the door is shut behind us she rounds on me. "I think that was all right, wasn't it? " she demands. "Your curtsy was lovely, thank you. "

I smile. "I think it was all right. "

"Sit down, sit down, " she urges me. "You can sit in your chair, you'll feel more at home. "

I hesitate. "No, " I say. "It is not right so. You sit in the chair, and I will sit beside you. In case someone comes in. "

"What if they do? "

"We will always be watched, " I say, finding the words. "You will always be watched. You have to take care. All the time. "

She shakes her head. "You don't know what he is like with me, " she a.s.sures me. "You have never seen him like this. I can ask for anything; I can have anything I want. Anything in the world I think I could ask for and have. He will allow me anything; he will forgive me anything. "

"Good, " I say, smiling at her.

But her little face is not radiant as it was when she was playing with the kitten.

"I know it is good, " she says hesitantly. "I should be the happiest woman in the world. Like Jane Seymour, you know? Her motto was: the most happy.' "

"You will have to become accustomed to life as a wife and Queen of England, " I say firmly. I really do not want to hear Katherine Howard's regrets.

"I will, " she says earnestly. She is such a child, she still tries to please anyone who scolds her. "I really do try, Your Gr *er, Anne. "

Jane Boleyn, Hampton Court, New Year's Eve 1540 This is the court with two queens: nothing like it has ever been seen before. Those who had served Queen Anne, the now d.u.c.h.ess, were glad to see her again, and glad to serve her. The warmth of her welcome surprised everyone, even me. But she always had a charm about her that made her servants glad to do any little thing for her; she was ready with her thanks and quick to reward. Madame Kitty, on the other hand, is quick to order and quick to complain, and she has an endless number of demands. In short, we have put a child in charge of the nursery, and she is making enemies of her little playmates as fast as she dishes out her favors.

The court was glad to see Queen Anne in her old place, and scandalized but fascinated that she should dance so merrily with Queen Katherine, that they should walk arm in arm, that they should ride out to hunt together, and that they should dine with their husband in common. The king smiled on them as if they were two favorite daughters, his pleasure was so indulgent, his satisfaction in this happy resolution so apparent. The d.u.c.h.ess who had been queen had prepared her own way with some skill. She had brought great gifts for the new husband and wife, beautiful matching horses dressed in purple velvet: a kingly gift. She has, as it turns out now, exquisite manners: queenly manners. Under the strain of being the former wife at the first Christmas of the new wife's court, Anne of Cleves is a model of tact and elegance. There is not a woman in the world who could have played the part with more discretion. And she is more remarkable for being the only woman, in the history of mankind, ever to do such a thing. Other women in the past may have stepped aside, or been forced out, the first queen of this very court for one *but no one has ever stepped graciously to one side as if it were a ch.o.r.eographed move in a masque, and gone on to dance her part in another place.

There was more than one man who said that if the king were not utterly besotted by a precocious child, he would be regretting his choice to put a silly girl in the place of this thoughtful, charming woman. And there was more than one prediction that said she would be well married before the year was out; for who could resist a woman who could fall from being queen to commoner and yet still carry herself as if greatness was within?

I was not one of those, because I think ahead. She has signed an agreement that says she was legally contracted to marry another man. Her marriage to the king was invalid, so would be her marriage to anyone else. He has tied her to spinsterhood for as long as the son of the Duke of Lorraine shall live. The king has cursed her with spinsterhood and infertility, and I doubt he has even considered this. But she is no fool. She will have considered this. She must have considered it a bargain worth making. In which case she is a stranger woman than any we have ever seen at court. She is a charming and graceful woman of only twenty-five years old, in possession of a large personal fortune, of unstained reputation, in her fertile years, and she has determined never to marry again. What a curious queen this one from Cleves has turned out to be!

She is in good looks. We now see that the plainness in her face and the pallor in her cheeks when she was queen were caused by the draining anxiety of being the fourth wife. Now that the fifth has taken her place we can see the young woman bloom, freed of the danger of privilege. She has used the time of her exile to improve herself. Her command of the language is much greater, and her voice, now that she is not struggling with the words, is mellow and clear. She is merrier, now that she can understand a witty remark, and now that she is lighter of heart. She has learned to play cards and to dance. She has outgrown her Cleves Lutheran strictness both in behavior and appearance. Her dress is beyond recognition! When I think how she came to this country dressed like a German peasant girl in layer after layer of heavy cloth, with a hood squashing her head and her body wrapped like a barrel of gunpowder, and now I see this fashionable beauty, I see a woman who has taken the freedom to remake herself. She rides with the king and talks seriously and interestingly with him about the courts of Europe and what the future holds for England, and she laughs with Katherine like another silly girl. She plays cards with the courtiers and dances with the queen. She is Princess Mary's only true friend at court, and they read and pray together for a private hour every morning. She is the Lady Elizabeth's only advocate, and she keeps a touching correspondence with her former stepdaughter and has been promised the role of guardian and beloved aunt. She is a regular visitor to Prince Edward's nursery, and his little face lights up to see her. In short, Anne of Cleves behaves in every way as a beautiful and highly regarded royal sister should do, and everyone has to say that she is fit for the part. Indeed, many people say that she is most fit to be queen *but that is so much empty regret. At any rate, we are all now very glad that our evidence did not send her to the scaffold; though everyone praising her now would have sworn king's evidence against her just as eagerly, had they been asked, as I was asked.

The duke summons me to his rooms on New Year's Eve as if we should toast the past and make new resolutions together. He talks first of Queen Anne and how pleasantly she behaves herself at court. He asks me how Catherine Carey, my niece, Mary's child, is serving as a maid-in-waiting to her cousin.

"She d"s her duty, " I say shortly. "Her mother has taught her well, I have very little to do with her. "

He allows himself a smirk. "And you and Mary Boleyn were never the best of friends. "

"We know each other well enough, " I say of my self-regarding sister-in-law.

"Of course she has the Boleyn inheritance, " he says, as if to remind me, as if I ever forget. "We could not save everything. "

I nod. Rochford Hall, my house, went to George's parents at his death and from them to Mary. They should have left it to me, he should have left it to me; but no. I faced all the danger and the horror of what had to be done and ended up saving only my t.i.tle and earning only my pension.

"And little Catherine Carey? Is she another queen in the making? " he asks, just to tease me. "Shall we have her schooled to please Prince Edward? Do you think we can put her in a king's bed? "

"I think you will find her mother has already forbidden it, " I say coldly. "She will want a good marriage and a quiet life for her daughter. She has had enough of courts. "

The duke laughs and lets it go. "So what of our present pa.s.sport to greatness: our queen, Katherine? "

"She is happy enough. "

"I don't really care if she is happy or not. D"s she show any sign of being with child? "

"No, none, " I say.

"How did she mistake before, in the first month of marriage? She had us all in hopes. "

"She can barely count, " I say irritably. "And she has no sense of how important it is. I watch her courses now; there will be no mistake again. "

He raises an eyebrow at me. "Is the king even capable? " he asks very quietly.

I do not need to glance toward the door; I know it must be secure or we would not be having this most dangerous conversation. "He can do the act in the end, though he labors overlong on it, and it exhausts him. "

"Then is she fertile? " he demands.

"She has regular courses. And she seems healthy and strong. "

"If she d"s not get with child, then he will look for a reason, " he warns me, as if there is anything I can do about the whims of a king. "If she is not with child by Easter at the latest, he will be asking why. "

I shrug my shoulders. "Sometimes these things take time. "

"The last wife who took time died on the scaffold, " he says sharply.

"You need not remind me. " I am fired into defiance. "I do remember all of that, and what she did, and what she attempted, and the price she paid. And then the price we paid. And the price I had to pay. "

My outburst shocks him. I have shocked myself. I had promised myself I would never complain. I did my best. And so, in their terms, did they.

"All I am saying is that we should prevent the question coming into his mind, " he soothes me. "Clearly, it would be better for us all, for the family, Jane, for us Howards, if Katherine were to conceive a child before he has to wonder. Before a question even enters his head. This would be the safest course for us. "

"Bricks without straw, " I say coldly. I am still irritated. "If the king has no power to give her a child, then what can we do? He is an old man; he is a sick man. He has never been a fertile man, and what potency he has must be soured by his rotting leg and his locked-up bowels. What can any of us do? "

"We can a.s.sist him, " he suggests.

"How can we do more? " I demand. "Our girl already d"s every trick that a Smithfield wh.o.r.e might do. She works him as if he were a drunken captain in a brothel. She d"s everything a woman can do, and all he can do is lie on his back and moan: "Oh, Katherine, oh my rose! " There is no vigor left in him. I am not surprised there is no baby coming from him. What are we to do? "

"We could hire some, " he says, as sly as any pander.

"What? "

"We could hire some vigor, " he suggests.

"You mean? "

"I mean that if there were a young man, perhaps someone we know that we can trust, who would be glad of a discreet affair, we might allow him to meet her, we might encourage her to treat him kindly, they might give each other a little pleasure, and we might have a child to put into the Tudor cradle and no man any the wiser. "

I am horrified. "You would never do this again, " I say flatly.

His look is as cold as winter. "I have never done it before, " he specifies carefully. "Not I. "

"It is to put her head on the block. "

"Not if it is carefully done. "

"She would never be safe. "

"If she were carefully guided, and chaperoned. If you were to be with her, every step of the way, if you were ready to swear to her honor. Who would disbelieve you, who have been such a reliable witness for the king so many times? "

"Exactly. I have always borne witness for the king, " I say, my throat dry with fear. "I give evidence for the hangman. I am always on the winning side. I have never offered evidence for the defense. "

"You have always borne witness for our side, " he corrects me. "And you would still be on the winning side, in safety. And you would be kinswoman to the next King of England. A Howard-Tudor boy. "

"But the man? " I am almost panting with fear. "There is no one we could trust with such a secret. "

He nods. "Ah yes, the man. I think we would have to ensure that he was gone when he had done his duty, don't you? An accident of some sort, or a sword fight? Or set upon by thieves? Certainly he would have to be removed. We could not risk another " The duke pauses for the word. "Scandal. "

I close my eyes at the thought of it. For a moment, against the darkness of my eyelids I can see my husband's face turned toward me, his expression quite incredulous as he saw me come into court and take my seat before the panel of judges. A moment of hope as he thought I was coming to save him. Then slowly, his dawning horror at what I was prepared to say.

I shake my head. "These are terrible thoughts, " I say. "And terrible thoughts to be shared by you with me. We, who have already seen such things and done such things * " I break off. I cannot speak for terror at what he will bring me to do.

"It is because you have looked at horror without flinching that I talk with you, " he says, and for the first time this evening there is a warmth in his voice; I almost think I hear affection. "Who would I trust better than you, with my ambitions for the family? Your courage and skill have brought us here. I don't doubt but that you will take us forward. You must know a young man who would be glad of a chance at the queen. A young man who could easily meet with her, a dispensable young man who would be no loss later on. Perhaps one of the king's favorites whom he encourages to hang around her. "

I am almost gagging with fear. "You don't understand, " I say. "Please, my lord, hear me. You don't understand. What I did then I have put from my mind I never speak of it; I never think of it. If anyone makes me think of it, I shall go mad. I loved George Truly, don't make me think of it; don't make me remember it. "

He rises to his feet. He comes round from his side of the table, and he puts his hands on my shoulders. It would almost be a gentle gesture except that it feels as if he is holding me down in his chair. "You shall decide, my dear Lady Jane. You shall think about these matters and tell me what you think, on reflection. I trust you implicitly. I am certain that you will want to do what is best for our family. I have faith that you will always do what is best for yourself. "

Anne, Richmond Palace, February 1541 I am home, and it is such relief to be here, I could laugh at myself for being a dull old spinster, shying away from society. But it is not just the pleasure of coming home to my own rooms and my own view from my windows and my own cook *it is the pleasure of escaping from the court, that court of darkness. Good G.o.d, it is a poisonous place that they are making for themselves, I wonder that anyone can bear to be there. The king's mood is more unreliable than ever. In one moment he is pa.s.sionate to Kitty Howard, fondling her like a lecher before everyone so that she blushes red and he laughs to see her embarra.s.sment, then half an hour later he is raging against one of his councillors, flinging his cap to the ground, lashing out at a page, or silent and withdrawn, in a mood of quiet hatred and suspicion, his eyes darting round, seeking someone to blame for his unhappiness. His temper, always indulged, has become a danger. He cannot control it himself; he cannot control his own fears. He sees plots in every corner and a.s.sa.s.sins at every turn. The court is becoming adept at diverting him and confusing him; everyone fears the sudden turning of his moods into darkness.

Katherine runs to him when he wants her, and she shies away when his temper is bad, as if she were one of his pretty greyhounds. But the strain must tell on her in time. And she has surrounded herself with the silliest and most vulgar girls who were ever allowed in a gentleman's house. Their dress is incredibly ostentatious with as much bare flesh and jewels as they can afford; their manners are bad. They are sober enough when the king is awake and in the court; they parade before him and bow to him as if he were a brooding idol. But the moment he is gone, they run wild like schoolgirls. Kitty d"s nothing to control them; indeed, when the doors of her rooms are shut, she is the ringleader. They have pages and young men of the court running in and out of her rooms all day, musicians playing, gambling, drinking, flirting. She herself is little more than a child, and it is a great joy to her to have a water fight in a priceless gown and then change into another. But the people about her are older and less innocent, and the court is becoming lax, perhaps worse. There is a great scurry into decorum when someone dashes in and says the king is coming, which Kitty adores, the schoolchild that she is; but this is now a court without discipline. It is becoming a court without morals.

It is hard to predict what will happen. She said she was with child in the first month of marriage, but she was mistaken; she seems to have no idea how grave a mistake this can be, and there have been no hopes since. As I came away the wound on the king's leg was giving him terrible pain, and he had taken to his bed again, seeing n.o.body. Kitty tells me that she thinks he cannot give her a child, that he is with her as he was with me, incapable. She tells me that she works such tricks on him that he has some pleasure, and she a.s.sures him that he is potent and strong, but the reality of the matter is that he rarely manages the act.

"We pretend, " she told me miserably. "I sigh and groan and say it is such bliss for me, and he tries to thrust, but, truth be told, he cannot move, it is a pathetic mime he d"s, not the real thing. "

I told her that she should not speak of this to me. But she asked me, very trustingly, who should advise her? I shook my head. "You can trust no one, " I said. "They would have had me hanged for a witch if I had said half what you have told me. If you say the king is impotent, or you predict his death, that is treason, Kitty. The sentence for treason is death. You must never speak of this to anyone, and if anyone asks me did you speak to me, I shall lie for you and say you did not. "

Her little face was white. "But what shall I do? " she asked me. "If I cannot ask for help, and I don't know what to do? If it is a crime even to tell someone what is wrong? What can I do? Who can I go to? "

I gave her no answer for I had none. When I was in the same trouble and danger, I never found anyone who would help me.

Poor child, perhaps my lord duke has a plan for her, perhaps Lady Rochford knows what can be done. But when the king is tired of her *and he must tire of her, for what can she do to create a lasting love? *when he is tired of her, if she d"s not have a child, then why would he keep her? And if he has a mind to be rid of her, will he make as generous a settlement on her as he did for me, given that I was a d.u.c.h.ess with powerful friends and she is a light, slight-witted girl with no defense? Or will he find some easier, quicker, and cheaper way to be rid of her?

Katherine, Hampton Court, March 1541 Let me see, what do I have?

My winter gowns are all completed, though I have some more for spring in the making, but they are of no use, for the season of Lent is coming and I cannot wear them.

I have my Christmas and New Year gifts from the king; that is, among other things that I have already forgotten or given away to my women, I have two pendants made of twenty-six table diamonds and twenty-seven ordinary diamonds, so heavy that I can hardly hold up my head when they are round my neck. I have a rope of pearls with two hundred pearls as big as strawberries. I have the lovely horse from my dear Anne. I call her Anne now, and she still calls me Kitty when we are alone. But the jewels make no difference for those, too, have to be put aside for Lent.

I have a choir of new singers and musicians, but they cannot play merry music for me to dance when Lent comes. Also, I will not be allowed to eat anything worth having during Lent. I may not play cards or hunt; I may not dance or play games. It is too cold to go out on the river, and even if it were not, it will be Lent soon. I will not even play jokes with my ladies or run around the apartments or play catch or bowls or bat and ball as soon as it is dreary, dreary Lent.

And the king, for some reason, is making Lent come early this year. Out of sheer ill humor he has taken to his rooms since February, and now he d"sn't even come out to dine, and never sees me, and is never kind to me, and has not given me anything or called me pretty rose since Twelfth Night. They say he is ill, but since he is always lame and always costive and since his leg constantly rots from the wound, I can't see what difference it makes. And besides, he is so cross with everyone, and there is no pleasing him. He has all but closed up the court, and everyone tipt"s around as if they were frightened to breathe. Indeed, half the families have gone home to their houses since the king is not here, and no business is being done by the Privy Council. The king won't see anyone, so a lot of the young men have gone away, and there is no amus.e.m.e.nt at all.

"He's missing Queen Anne, " Agnes Restwold says, because she is a spiteful cat.

"He is not, " I say flatly. "Why should he? He put her aside by his own choice. "

"He is, " she insists. "For see? As soon as she went away he went quiet, and then he became ill, and now see, he has withdrawn from court to think about what he can do, how he might get her back. "

"It's a lie, " I say. It is a terrible thing to say to me. Who should know better than me that you can love someone and then wake up and scarcely be troubled with them? I thought that was just me and my shallow heart, as my grandmother says. But what if the king has a shallow heart, too? What if he thought *actually as I did, as obviously everyone did *that she had never looked better or appeared better? Everything about her that had been so foreign and stupid was somehow smoothed away and she was *I don't know the word *gracious. She was like a real queen, and I was, like I always am, the prettiest girl in the room. I always am the prettiest girl in the room. But I am only that. I am never more than that. What if he now wants a woman with grace?

"Agnes, you do wrong to presume on your long friendship with Her Grace to distress her, " Lady Rochford says. I adore how she can say things like that. The words are as good as a play, and her tone is like a shower of February rain down your neck. "This is idle gossip about the king's ill health, for which we should be praying. "

"I do pray, " I say quickly, for everyone says I go into chapel and spend all my time craning my head over the edge of the queen's box to see Thomas Culpepper, who glances up at me and smiles. His smile is the best thing in church; it lights up the chapel like a miracle. "I do pray. And when it is Lent, G.o.d knows, I will have nothing to do but pray. "

Lady Rochford nods. "Indeed, we shall all pray for the king's health. "