Le Temps Viendra: A Novel of Anne Boleyn (16 page)

‘Mine own darling, you look truly magnificent; every inch the Queen that I intend you to become.’ I then pointed to the rich jewellery and gown that I was wearing, and commented,

‘You do realise don’t you, Henry, that people will notice all this!’ Then I added more circumspectly, ‘that the Queen will notice all this.’

‘Ah, I see Mistress Anne refers to my request that she maintains service upon the Queen,’ he replied, then quickly added, ‘for the time being.’ Henry grinned at me mischievously; I could not help but feel that at heart, he felt awkward about his request and tried to defuse it with humour. I had already seen the folly of my naïveté when my father had confronted on the subject, and I was determined to accept Henry’s request graciously. However, Anne was ever willful; even at that stage I felt the need to make plain my reservations.

‘Of course, Your Majesty is most wise, and I see that discretion in these matters is important. Yet, I must confess that I approach your request with some trepidation. Katherine will see immediately how high and how fast I am rising in your affections, and now that she knows of your plans for an annulment, I’m quite sure that she will make my life unbearable!’

‘Anne, sweetheart, do not worry. I have been waiting to tell you myself that I am already arranging a delegation to travel to Rome to request a dispensation from the Pope. This will allow the annulment of my marriage to Katherine to move ahead swiftly. I have also sent Wolsey to France to canvass Francis for his support in the matter. Granted there are . . . difficulties. The political situation does not carry in our favour. Yet, Popes understand the pressing issues of Princes, and I’m confident that we will have our dispensation soon, and that you and I will be married by the end of the year. Then all will be well, my love. You will see.’ Henry took hold of both my hands and raised them to his lips, as if to seal a pact and smooth away my remaining doubts.

‘I will do you as you ask, My Lord. But,’ I paused, hardly believing that I was about to set conditions for the King of England, ‘I will do so only until the end of the year. By then, I suspect I shall be going mad and will not be able to tolerate it a moment longer!’ Henry was unconcerned by my ultimatum. He was supremely confident in being able to bring to bear whatever he desired.

That was the end of our discussion about Katherine. We continued to walk in the garden, engrossed in each other’s company. I listened to Henry’s plans for our wedding, for our future and for England. It was a beautiful fairytale, and I confess that I foolishly allowed myself to be swept up into those castles in the air.

Later that evening, my family joined my uncle, the Duke of Norfolk, in his chambers for dinner. I noticed immediately that it was a room of similar proportions to our own apartments at Beaulieu. Despite the fact that my uncle Norfolk was the premier peer in the land, clearly the Boleyns were already riding very high in the King’s affections. Outside, the sun was fast descending in the sky. It was a spectacular sunset; a solitary shaft of light cut through the broken cloud, as if it were a stairway to heaven itself. The sky was awash with hues of orange, red, yellow and violet, illuminating the room and our faces in a soft and warm glow.

I was somewhat anxious about meeting Thomas Howard, the Third Duke of Norfolk. I knew a considerable amount about him. I also knew that Anne had a notoriously difficult relationship with her uncle. I tried so very hard to keep an open mind, to meet him afresh on my own terms. Yet, I could not put aside my knowledge that even as Anne’s uncle, Norfolk had done nothing to try and save her and her co-accused during those tragic days of her downfall. Not only that, he seemed to take some vindictive pleasure in chiding her as she was arrested at Greenwich Palace.

By that time, I had been in Anne’s body long enough to sense her feelings about people and situations; I could clearly feel her mistrust and disdain for her uncle. As I sat directly across from Thomas Howard at the dining table, I could feel Anne’s cool reserve towards the Duke.

Already in his mid-fifties, Thomas Howard struck me as being a singularly austere and joyless man. He greeted our family with little warmth, and although our plate overflowed with food and wine, he was miserly in his emotional generosity. In stature, Thomas Howard was relatively tall and slender, dressed elegantly and befitting his rank in a crimson damask doublet and hose, offset against his surcoat trimmed with fur. A gold collar was draped about his shoulders, and three gold rings set with rubies and sapphires emphasised his gnarled and bony fingers. What I found most striking though was his rugged profile, with its large and slightly protuberant nose and a rather pronounced and pointed chin. Overall, his face was long and drawn, not dissimilar to that of a vulture. How perversely prophetic that seems to me now.

He addressed much of the conversation to my father, who was cordial enough in his replies. However, it struck me that no great warmth existed between the two brothers-in-law. Theirs was clearly a practical arrangement, as I felt would be the case with most relationships in the Duke’s life. Occasionally, he glanced at me as if adjusting his image of Anne in the light of his understanding that perhaps, one day, she would be the Queen of England. Yet, when our eyes met, there was no appreciation of me as a person, just a cool and calculating appraisal of what I could, and could not do, for Thomas Howard. After the Gentlemen Ushers served up our main course, my uncle Norfolk sat back in his grand wainscot chair. Resting his hands squarely on each of its arms, he then spoke to me directly for the first time.

‘So, your father tells me that the King has asked you to marry him.’ I understood this was a statement and not a question. Thus, I did not reply but continued to listen, all the time keeping my gaze fixed firmly on my plate as I began to eat. Undaunted, my uncle continued; ‘It will not be easy to get an annulment from his marriage to Katherine. Her nephew, the Emperor Charles V controls the Vatican, and the Pope will not want to upset him. But your elevation brings great opportunity to our house and we must do all we can to ensure a happy outcome.’ Then quite bluntly, my uncle asked me, ‘Have you slept with the King yet?’

‘Brother! Anne is a pure and chaste girl, a God-fearing girl. How can you ask such questions?’ Rarely had I heard my mother speak up in the presence of men. However, it was clear that she was indeed angry that her brother had suggested I was capable of inciting adultery. Norfolk did not flinch, or respond to her. He kept his gaze fixed upon me. Slowly, I looked up from my plate, putting down my knife in the process as I prepared myself to speak. Mirroring my uncle, I sat back defiantly in my chair. With all the grace and cutting sarcasm I could muster—as Anne had clearly also taken exception to his remark—I spoke; not once did I break eye contact with the Duke.

‘Your Grace, I believe,’ I hesitated consciously, in order to give a derisory emphasis to my uncertainty about the following fact, ‘you are a man yourself. However, despite this being the case, I see that you do not understand men at all. Our King is a charismatic and mighty Prince, who desires me above all else. If you possessed the wisdom of a woman in these matters, Your Grace, you would understand that until you have the prize in your hand, you must never give a man what he desires.’ My impertinence had been breathtaking, and deathly silence descended upon the room. My uncle remained motionless, only the slight twitching of the muscle in his jaw told me that I had well overstepped the mark. Clearly my words had left him simmering with indignation.

After a few moments of excruciating silence, I rose slowly from my chair and spoke again,

‘I fear that the journey has overtired me and I find that my head hurts. I thank Your Grace most humbly for your hospitality and beg your pardon to retire to my chambers.’ I did not wait for permission to withdraw, but curtsied before pushing my chair back and leaving the room. As the door to the outer chamber closed behind me, I heard my father apologising for my abruptness. My heart pounded wildly. I was not as courageous as Anne, and certainly in my modern day life, not as intemperate. When her consciousness took over, as Anne was apt to do in moments of high emotion, I always found myself both in awe of her courage and passion, and at the same time, somewhat frightened by them.

As I walked away, I remembered only too clearly an infamous comment that the Duke of Norfolk had once made about his relationship with Anne. He remarked that she spoke to him ‘no better than one would speak to a dog’. I think it was about that time that I began to understand well that Anne was a girl caught in an immensely difficult situation, one that brought out both the best and worst out in her. At her best, she was witty, intelligent, passionate and charismatic. At her worst she could be cutting, volatile, haughty, and her intrepid courage sometimes caused her to go where angels feared to tread. I may have defended my dignity with my Uncle, but in the aftermath, I had already made life more difficult for myself. I shuddered at the thought of it as I returned to my rooms.

Chapter Eight

The Palace of Beaulieu

July 28th, 1527

When I awoke the next morning, a flood of memories from my exchange with my uncle Norfolk washed over me before I had barely opened my eyes. I groaned, turning over and burying my head beneath my pillow, as if I could hide from the repercussions of my actions. I knew that I would face a sharp reprimand from my father for my rudeness. So, when Bess bustled into the room sometime later in order to assist me in getting dressed, I was reluctant to rise. I was filled with gloom, not only at facing the consequences of my words to my uncle Norfolk, but also with the realisation that on that morning, I would have to present myself to the Queen.

Outside, the warm tranquillity of the previous evening had given way to a grey, wet and blustery day. Once out of bed, I peered beyond my windows, watching an angry smudge of rain pass across the horizon, as I traced rivulets of rainwater down the glass with my finger. It seemed that Mother Nature perfectly mirrored my mood on that July day. As it turned out, the largely warm and sunny weather which I had experienced since my arrival in the 16th century had been a welcome break in a year which was renowned as being particularly wet. Many people commented on how it rained incessantly from the middle of April until the end of May, shortly before my arrival in Anne’s world. Bar the odd and very welcome break in the dreary weather, we had seen very few sunny days as summer eventually gave way to the chill of the encroaching winter.

In the weeks that followed, the inclement weather intensified the passions and tensions at court, as we had all been cooped up indoors for days at a time; Henry, Katherine and I living cheek by jowl in an increasingly tense
ménage a trois
. On that momentous day, in an attempt to keep a low profile, I instructed Bess to fetch a plain gown of grey satin and kirtle of grey damask; I chose a simple crucifix to set against my French hood, which was studded with pearls. When I emerged from my rooms, I was relieved to find that my father and brother had already gone to attend on the King. My mother eyed me cautiously as we broke our fast. In truth, I could not tell whether she was angry with me, or admired me, for standing up to her brother. From the very start, I knew that my mother loved me intensely and unconditionally, and yet I sensed, like many other people, she sometimes found herself in awe of her daughter; wondering from where she could have drawn such fierce intellect and bravery.

Before I left our apartments, I snatched up the Book of Hours that she gave to me before we left Hever, and attached it to the gold chain clipped at my waist. We walked together silently, and somewhat nervously, toward the Queen’s public chambers. I think my mother also felt apprehensive at how Katherine would treat her daughter now that events seemed to be turning against her. At the doors to the Queen’s apartments, my mother kissed me and wished me well. I sensed that she wanted to tell me, to urge me, to be dignified and keep a low profile, which was somewhat laughable when I considered how impossible that task would be in such close proximity to the Queen. However, I reassured her and said calmly,

‘Do not worry, mother. I promise that I will be the gracious and dutiful servant of the Queen.’ I squeezed her hand lightly and smiled, as with slight mirth I went on, ‘I shall try with every fibre of my being not to embarrass you or father any further.’ With that, we bid each other farewell. As the Yeoman Guard opened the door to Katherine’s outer chambers, I took a deep breath, and mustering every ounce of self - possession that I could, I stepped inside.

Passing through the busy Great Watching Chamber, I found myself in the Queen’s Presence Chamber. Following the same template as that of other royal palaces, this was the second largest of Katherine’s public chambers. It was a place in which those courtiers who wished to petition or gain favour from the Queen would seek an audience. The room was already quite full of people, and a buzz of speculation filled the air. As I reached up on tiptoes to peer over the gathered crowd, I saw Katherine on her throne at the far end of the chamber. It seemed that I was just one of many who gathered that morning to be introduced to, or to seek patronage of, the Queen.