The Lady in the Tower (29 page)

The dance could not stop until he decided that it should. It had to go on for some time. The whole of the Court, while they could not hear our dialogue, must be aware of its nature.

I stopped in the dance and bowed to him. He led me back to my place. Although I might appear cool, I was trying to control my trembling limbs.

I lay in bed thinking about everything that had been said. The Court
was now aware of the King's passion for me. It was unlike him to make such a public display of his
amours;
before he had always been discreet. It was only the case of Elizabeth Blount which had become common knowledge, and that had been the most serious of all his love affairs. And now he had recognized her son as his.

I could imagine the gossip. “Not since Elizabeth Blount…”

What could I do? I was afraid. There was a certain anger in his passion. I must remember that he was all-powerful. He could ruin my family just as quickly as he had built it up. I appeared to be in a position to carry on the tradition of the Boleyn women and bolster up the family fortunes. Mary had done it. The honors which had come to my father and George had clearly been due to the King's affection for her. How much more could I do for them?

I should be once more in disgrace. My father would never forgive me. His lands, his appointments at Court, the King's favor, his rising riches were all very dear to him. He despised Mary for her lack of acquisitiveness and her humble marriage to Will Carey, who was as spineless as she was. But he had not hesitated to take the spoils she had brought to him.

I wondered what the King would do. It was clear that he would not lightly accept my refusal. In fact, I had an idea that my reluctance made his desire more urgent. He was a great hunter. He was indefatigable in the chase. It was said that in a day's hunting he never failed to tire eight or ten horses. The joy of pursuit was great, and that evening he had shown me that my reluctance to give way to his wishes only made him more determined to bend me to them.

I did not know what I should do, and I determined on flight.

The next day I asked for an audience with the Queen.

There was no change in her attitude toward me. This proud daughter of Spanish kings would not betray the fact that she was even aware of her husband's infidelities.

I knelt before her. I said: “I wish to leave the Court, Your Grace, and return to my father's house for a while.”

There was a faint flicker of interest in her pale, almost expressionless face.

“When do you wish to go?”

“At once, Your Grace.”

She did not ask the reason. She knew and she applauded my decision. She could not fail to see how hotly the King was pursuing me, and she thought that was the decision of a good and virtuous girl.

“You will take your maid with you?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

“Then leave when you will.”

“I thank Your Grace.”

She gave me a sad little smile. “I hope you will find a solution to your problems, Mistress Boleyn.”

“I thank Your Grace.”

I was dismissed.

And so I returned to Hever.

MY STEPMOTHER WAS AMAZED to see me. There had been no time to warn her of my coming.

I threw myself into her arms and clung to her.

She said: “Anne, you should have let me know. How are you? Are you well? My dear, what does this mean?”

“It means that I am home. I will tell you later on.”

She bustled about. My room must be prepared. She must go to the kitchens. I told her I wanted little to eat.

“Something is wrong,” she said. “I know it.”

Soon I was telling her.

“It is the King,” I said. “He has cast his eyes on me…as he did on Mary…”

“My dear…
dear
child.”

“I'll not have him,” I said. “I have told him so.”

“And you have been sent from Court?”

“I left of my own free will.”

“You will be out of favor for it.”

“I hope so, Mother.”

“It is so sad. If only they had let you marry Henry Percy, you would have been happy.”

“Yes,” I said. “I was determined to be and I should have been… just as now I am determined to be no man's mistress.”

“Well, you shall stay here, my child, and we shall be together as we were. And one day perhaps there will be some man whom you can love.”

“Oh, it is good to be with you.”

“You must eat and sleep and then we shall have lots of talk. You shall tell me everything.”

I lay in my bed.

This could be the end of my Court life. Perhaps I could go to France. What was happening there now? Marguerite might help me. She was a widow now but she had never had any great love for her husband. If I
wrote to her, I could tell her how I had followed her sorrows and been very sad for her. I wondered what the Court of France would be like now … with François no longer the splendid figure of his youth. But Marguerite would be the same. I would be able to talk to her of Henry's passion as I had once talked of that of François. She would understand and help me.

It was like a raft to cling to in a stormy sea.

The next day I talked to my stepmother. I told her of my conversations with the King; she listened intently and sympathized with me. I was glad my father was not there. I knew he would be eager to throw another daughter of his into the arms of the all-powerful dispenser of honors to the families of his mistresses.

I watched her at her sewing and she told me of the trivialities of life at Hever which were so important to her—how the wine had matured, how the herb garden was growing, how one of the servants was with child by a stableman.

I listened half-heartedly and thought: This is how my life will become.

But it was not to be.

The following day I was in my room when I heard the clatter of horses’ hooves and I thought at once: It is my father sent to upbraid me, or a messenger from Court perhaps.

I looked out of my window. The King, with a few attendants, was riding into the courtyard.

My stepmother, in a state of extreme nervousness, went out to greet him.

I heard his loud booming voice. “Lady Rochford, good day to you. It does me good to see you in good health. And Mistress Anne, I hope, is in like case.”

I leaned against my door. So he was not going to let me escape. I would be firm, though. I should need all my skill to withstand him.

My stepmother was coming up to my room to tell me that he was here, commanding me to appear before him.

The door opened. My stepmother stood there, looking frightened.

“Anne …” she began.

And he was there behind her. He was smiling, boyish again, proud of his achievement. See, here I am!

He stood looking at me for a moment, his blue eyes tender, yet burning with passion. I flung back the hair from my face for it was loose and unkempt.

He said: “You may leave us, Lady Rochford.”

My poor stepmother, bewildered, hesitating but overawed, dropped a curtsy and departed.

He came into the room.

“My Anne,” he said.

I said: “Your Grace, we are unprepared for the honor of this visit.”

“That matters not at all,” he replied. “This is not a state affair. This is a lover come for his lass.”

“Your Grace, the honor is great, but…”

He was beside me. He had taken my hair in his hands and was pulling me toward him.

“Did you think I would let you run away from me?” he said. “I will never let you leave me.”

“You find me… unprepared.”

“I like it,” he said. “I find you delightful in any guise.”

“I must help my stepmother. She is overwhelmed by this visit.”

“Nay…no need. I came for you… not a banquet.”

“But my father will be most upset if we do not treat Your Grace with due respect.”

“Treat me as I would be treated, Anne. I ask nothing more.”

“My lord…I am in great distress.”

“I would cause you no distress. I would bring you only joy.”

“Then, my lord …”

“Don't say it again,” he said. “I know your mind. I know you love your honor and I respect that in you. Dost think I am some satyr who would force myself upon a reluctant maiden? That is not so. You have been in my thoughts for a long time. I have tried to put you out of them but when you came back to Court, I knew that was impossible. Now we must act. I have much of importance to say to you.”

“Your Grace, I cannot change my mind.”

“I have thought of that. I will speak long with you and tell you what is in my mind.” His eyes lighted with a touch of mischief. “We will go to that garden. Do you remember, the scene of our first meeting? There I shall tell you what I plan for us. We will go there. Come with me.”

“I must comb my hair… make myself worthy of your presence. I must change my gown.”

“It is not your gown I came to see, sweetheart. To me in any guise you are all that I need. But this is serious talk. It can mean so much to us two. How long shall I wait for you in the garden?”

“Ten minutes.”

“It will seem an eternity, but I can deny you nothing.”

He took my hand and kissed it lingeringly. “Know this,” he said seriously, “I love you well. No one else shall be your rival. Think of that, and it will incline your thoughts toward me.” He smiled and raised a finger. “No. Do not say it again. I know it well. My mistress you will not be. That will be the purpose of our discourse. Ten minutes then. No more, sweet Anne.”

“I will be there, Your Grace.”

He left me. I took a comb and combed my hair back from my hot face.

My stepmother came into the room.

“Anne,” she said in dismay. “I know not what to do. We have no special fare in the kitchens.”

“It is of no importance.”

“The King… visiting us like this…No warning.”

“He has come to talk to me. He is not interested in food.”

“What does it mean?”

“I do not know. Later perhaps I shall.”

I was feeling calmer every second. He wanted to talk. What could he possibly talk about? He was going to try to persuade me by telling me all he could do for me and mine. Some of my fear had left me. Seeing him face to face had given me courage.

The thought came to me: This is no light matter with him. He really does care for me.

And so I went down to the garden.

He was waiting for me and came swiftly toward me, his arms out-stretched. I evaded them by bowing.

“Anne,” he said, “my sweetheart, all will be well ere long and you and I will be together. Come, sit beside me. Sit close to me. Ah, this is what I long for…to be close to you…to hold you against me… like this. Anne, you are a witch.”

“Your Grace, I am just a simple girl.”

“You were never simple. You were born with that witchery. You have put a spell on me.”

I was momentarily alarmed by this talk of witchcraft. I wondered if I were to be accused of that and burned at the stake. But, of course, he meant witchery of another sort.

“You hold yourself aloof,” he said. “Oh, do not think I do not
respect your virtue.” His little mouth was prudish suddenly. “It is a virtue I most respect in ladies. But I see a way for us, and that is what I will speak of and you will then see how deep is my love for you and that I will have none other. I will sweep away your scruples. You and I shall love as, from the moment we met, we were meant to.”

“My lord, there is no way in which I will become your mistress.”

“Nor shall you be. But…you could be my Queen.”

“That is not possible.”

“That word does not exist for kings, Anne. There is a way and I believe I have found it. Listen to me. When I first saw you in the garden, I knew that this was no light emotion which you had aroused in me. When I returned to Westminster, I said to Wolsey…yes, these were my very words, I remember them well…I said: ‘Thomas, I have been discoursing with a young lady who has the wit of an angel and is worthy of a crown.’ Now I look back, I see that my words were prophetic. Wolsey said, ‘It is sufficient if Your Grace finds her worthy of your love,’ and I answered that I feared she would never condescend in that way. Wolsey replied that great princes, if they choose to play the lover, had in their power that which would mollify a heart of steel. You will say that your virtue is unassailable, so you must remain virtuous. But I cannot give you up. Now listen. For some time past, my conscience has been troubling me. You know that I married my brother's widow. I was young. I was chivalrous. Katharine was alone in this country. Her father and mine were haggling over her dowry. She was sad and lonely and I have a tender heart … as you will discover. I married her, letting pity get the better of wisdom, and in doing so I have offended against the laws of God.”

I listened in amazement.

“For some time,” he went on, “I have been a most unhappy man. My conscience has never let me rest. Now I feel it cannot be silenced, for when my daughter Mary's union with the son of the King of France was in progress, one of the ambassadors raised the point of Mary's legitimacy.”

“That is… impossible!” I cried.

“Nay, my love, and I fear it may well be true. There is a verse in Leviticus which clearly says that a man may not marry his brother's wife and such a union would be without the blessing of God and fruitless.”