The Lady in the Tower (6 page)

As the weeks passed the tension seemed to be rising. The Queen was aware of it and did all she could to intensify it. She liked to tease. I had quickly realized that. I had seen her when in the presence of the Duchess Louise, being aware of how closely the older woman watched her, giving some little sign which might mean that she was
enceinte
.

She used to laugh about it. “Well, why not?” she said. “Let us give the lady some excitement. Did you see her eyes on me? She would like to bore through me. Is she? Is she not? I can see the question in her eyes. And if she is…
mon dieu, mon François
…my god, my Caesar… deprived of the crown. The good God cannot be so cruel. What a king he will make! And that poor, feeble old man struggles on when there is my incomparable François…”

She gave a good imitation of the Duchess which made me laugh.

I think she was beginning to feel that we were reaching some climax, for she talked more frankly now. Charles! It was always Charles. I would not have thought such a mercurial creature could have been so faithful, so single-minded. But however much she flitted from one enthusiasm to another, she was always true to Charles.

“I would be happier in a little house… right away from everyone…if Charles were in it with me,” she told me wistfully. “These fine clothes, these jewels… this flattery… this homage…I would give it all for a quiet life with Charles.”

I was not sure that I believed her. She seemed to have been born for her position, just as her brother seemed to be for his.

She was talking more and more of Charles. I would brush her hair and she would close her eyes. I heard her murmur once: “How much longer?”

I almost said: It is only eight weeks since we came, Madame. But I had learned my lesson. It was unwise for me to comment; and at times she was really talking to herself.

Sometimes she seemed depressed and then she would talk of Charles to me, how he had first come to Court with little hope of promotion save for one thing.

“His father was the standard-bearer to my father at the battle of Bosworth Field. His father died defending mine. We Tudors remember our friends… and our enemies. When my father was declared the rightful King and the usurper Richard was dead, he remembered the faithful standard-bearer and sent a message to his widow to tell her that if his son came to Court there would be a place for him. And that was how Charles came to Court. He was put into the house of the Duke of York. Perhaps he would have preferred to be in that of the Prince of Wales. But fate works strangely, does it not? For the Prince of Wales married Katharine of Aragon and very soon he was dead and his brother, Henry, Duke of York, became Henry, Prince of Wales…and now he is the King instead of going into the Church as they intended him to. Every time I think of Henry as a Cardinal, I want to laugh. Well, it was the crown for him, and much more suitable, too. And Katharine did not lose by it. She was Arthur's widow but now she is Henry's wife. So you see, Charles was in the right place after all.”

She was silent for a while, musing.

“They are alike. So tall… both of them … my brother and the man I love. I love them both, of course. Henry is very dear to me but there is no one like Charles. Charles is six years older than my brother…so my love is not a silly, beardless boy.”

“He is indeed a man,” I said, feeling the need to say something.

“Such a man! There was never one like him. At Court he learned to joust and ride and fence… and being Charles he could do it all better than anyone else. He and my brother became the closest friends. They are so like each other. They might be brothers…so tall, so fair… both of them, and excelling in all sport. You cannot be surprised that I love him.”

“No, Madame,” I said.

“Go on with the brushing. It soothes me. You are thinking if he is six years older than the King why is he not married?”

I was afraid to say yes, though it was what I was thinking.

“Well…he has been married. Twice. But that is of no consequence to me. I would not want a foolish, inexperienced boy.”

“Of course not, Madame.”

“And what do you know of such things?”

“Only what Your Highness tells me.”

“I believe there is more going on in your head than you would let us know.”

“Oh no, Madame,” I said in some alarm.

“Well, there should be,” she said. “I do not want stupid little girls about me.”

I did not know what to reply to that. But she was smiling at me.

“He has told me all about his marriages,” she said. “There are no secrets between us. Did you know that Margaret of Savoy wanted to marry him?”

“I did not,” I said.

“Well, she did. When he was on an embassy there, she fell in love with him. We can understand that, can we not? She might have married him. What a catastrophe! But fate was kind. Though perhaps it was the Emperor. He would never have allowed it to happen…however much she wanted him. And you may depend upon it, she did want him. Any woman would be mad not to want Charles.”

I waited because I was afraid to speak, lest what I said did not please her. I found these sessions with her fraught with apprehension and delight. Her conversation was so racy, so indiscreet. I was sure a great deal of what she told me was exaggerated, but that made it all the more exciting.

She went on: “When he was very young, he fell in love…or thought he did… with the daughter of the Lieutenant of Calais. Of course he was not really in love. He has never loved anyone but me, but when people are young they hear the minstrels singing of love and they become enamored of love… for love's sake. So it was with Charles. This girl, Anne Browne, was, of course, madly in love with him; but she was very young and the marriage was delayed; and after a while Charles realized that it had been a temporary infatuation and that he would be a fool to marry someone in such a humble position, for by that time my brother had become King and Charles was his constant companion. It is a very different matter to be King of England from Prince of Wales with a stern father to keep one in check. You understand me?”

“Oh yes, I understand.”

“Charles is human and all young men have desires. They must satisfy them for it may be that they do not meet the only one in the world for them until they are passing out of their first youth. So it was with Charles…”

She was silent for a while. Then suddenly she dismissed me—and that was the end of her confidences for that time.

But later she took up the story where she had left off.

“He was visiting his grandfather when he met Margaret Mortymer. She was young, lusty and a widow; therefore it was a great hardship for her to be deprived of a husband; and of course, as soon as she saw Charles she wanted him. He was young. He cannot be blamed. It was natural for him to take advantage of the situation. It would be a poor sort of man who did not. He was only a boy then…very inexperienced—and she was far from that. She initiated him, as you might say. Well, it had to happen. Do you understand what I am talking about, little Boleyn? Sometimes I forget what a child you are. There seems to be so much wisdom in those dark eyes. Perhaps I talk too much.”

“Oh no… no, Madame…”

She laughed and gave me a slap on the hand. “You have to grow up. And if you stay long in this Court you will need all your wits about you. It will not be long before the men begin to notice you …” Her eyes were dreamy again. “This woman was of a better family than poor little Anne Browne; her father was a Marquis. The fact is that Charles married her. He was very upset about little Anne, because she was expecting to marry him—but he got carried away by the voluptuous widow. He did not know then that people get tired of a relationship which depends on erotic excitement for its continued existence. There should be love, little one. Nothing else matters…jewels…power… nothing. Let it all go for love. My brother was very interested in Charles's affairs. He was his confidant, you see. So he said why not get the marriage annulled which might not be so difficult as there was a pre-contract with Anne Browne. Luckily for Charles, Margaret had come to the same conclusion as he had about their marriage, so there was no conflict between them. Charles was soon free. He married Anne. So you see, he was very impulsive.”

I was afraid that she was going to stop but she merely sighed and went on: “They say there is one person in the world for each of us and the lucky people are those who find that one…at the right time and the right place. I have found Charles and he has found me… but there are many obstacles for us to overcome.”

“Your Grace will overcome them.”

“You are right. For he is free now. Anne died. She was a delicate creature. He has two little daughters—Anne and Mary. He loves them dearly and so shall I. I will be a good mother to them when the time comes. Soon…”

She looked at me and smiled; but even she realized it was not wise to say what was in her mind.

She was pensive suddenly, for her moods changed quickly.

“We had some happy days at Court … my brother, Charles and I. We were always together. When there was to be a masque it was for us to devise it. We would plan it together. Henry knew how it was between Charles and me. Oh, he is my dear brother but there are times when he remembers he is the King; and of course, as his sister, I am a useful pawn in the game he has to play. Much as he loves Charles, when he puts on his crown he says, ‘My sister must marry into royalty.’”

I thought of what Simonette had said: “The Tudors have to stress their royalty at every turn simply because they only came into it a short while ago. When one has descended from a long line of kings, one's royalty is apparent; it is only when the glory is short lived that it must be stressed and none be allowed to forget it.”

“My brother wanted to make Charles richer and more powerful so he appointed him Keeper of the Royal Manor and Park of Wanstead, Ranger of the New Forest and then Knight of the Royal Body. Before he had been only a Squire. Henry wanted him to have a grander title so he thought of Elizabeth Grey, a little girl who was the sole heiress of her father, Viscount Lisle. He planned to make her Charles's ward and when she was old enough Charles could marry her and take the title. There was a wealthy estate to go with it.” She sighed. “You see how fate has always worked against us.”

“And did he…?” I ventured and stopped. She did not like me to ask questions. Perhaps because she did not greatly care for the answers. I was thinking that he only had to tell the King that he was in love with someone else and was not tempted by the title and wealth he would get by marrying the girl.

“He dared not offend the King, of course. And you know that when a gift is offered it is churlish not to show gratitude. Charles visited the young girl. He is delighted because she is only a child and it would be years before he could marry her. So he is safe… for a long time…and by the time…”

She smiled, looking into the future.

“He is so brave…so good. He rescued a child from the river…a little thing of only two years, and when he found that she was an orphan, unwanted by some aunt who had a brood of children of her own, he sent her to be brought up with his own children. That is the sort of man Charles is.”

“How noble,” I said.

“You speak truth. It was then that he was sent to the Netherlands.”

“My sister is there, in the Court of the Duchess of Savoy.”

She was not interested in my sister.

“Margaret fell in love with him and wanted to marry him. You see there are so many who want to marry him. Wherever he goes, it is inevitable. Charles had been with my brother during the invasion of France and had been made a Duke… the Duke of Suffolk. There will be no marriage with Margaret of Savoy…no marriage with Elizabeth Grey… for when Charles marries it will be with me.”

She put her finger to her lips; then she stood up and, taking me by the shoulders, shook me gently.

“Talking to you is like talking to myself. You are too young to understand what I am talking about, are you not, eh? Answer me.”

“Yes, Madame,” I said.

Then she laughed and there was a warning look in her eyes. “Remember,” she said. “You are only a child.”

“Yes, Madame,” I said again.

The festivities of Christmas and the New Year were celebrated at the Palais des Tournelles. The Queen was growing more and more reckless. She confided in me less, but I could feel the rising tension of the Court.

Mary was constantly in the company of the Dauphin. There were whispers that he was neglecting his mistress and that all his thoughts were now for the Queen. I was alarmed at this, knowing her impulsive nature; and if she had not talked to me so fervently of her love for Charles Brandon, I should have suspected her of having a love affair with the Dauphin.

He was so very much the leader of the Court. The masques he and his sister devised were elegant and witty, and he was always at the center of them; but he had drawn the Queen into the play to share the honors with him.

I was aware of his mother and sister watching him anxiously. Louise of Savoy was such a formidable lady. Before, there had been such accord between her and Marguerite and François; they had seemed to think as one person. How well the epithet Trinity fitted. And now François was acting apart from them and giving the greatest cause for anxiety. I understood their feelings well. They knew their darling's nature. I had heard that ever since he was in his early teens he had enjoyed amorous adventures. They were part of his life. And now he was unable to hide the desire
he felt for the young Queen. Mary knew this and reveled in it. I had seen her lay her hand lightly on his arm and gaze up at him, sparkling and dewy-eyed. I wondered what the King thought of the outrageous Big Boy's fondness for his lovely young Queen. I knew what Louise and Marguerite felt. Nothing could convince them that Mary was not madly in love with François, because they thought every woman must be. They had not heard those monologues that I had listened to in which she had showed so clearly that there was only one man for her. But being Mary she was enjoying the situation; and I believed it made those months tolerable to her.