She followed her mother — her father was there to greet them and grooms were waiting to help them down from their horses. Already servants were rushing to unpack the carts of goods that accompanied them.
She watched her mother greet her father with as much warmth as she could muster. She kept looking around, expecting to be attacked. Her father took her hand in his and gave it a gentle squeeze to reassure her. He smiled over her head to Frances who curtseyed to him.
Their little makeshift family was reunited and walked into the Palace together. They would go to greet the King in a show of formal solidarity. Anne Boleyn was more than likely to be at his side, and her mother would have to bow to her and acknowledge her presence.
Frances had seen her mother rage just the night before at the thought of kneeling to her.
The King was in the great presence hall, as fine as could be found in any of his own palaces. In fact, it was more richly decorated than even Greenwich. The Cardinal’s expensive tapestries and cloth was covering the walls, his candles burning brightly.
Frances turned away from her uncle to the woman sitting on his right. The place the Queen usually occupied. But now the dark-haired woman had seated herself there. She was not sitting on a throne or under the cloth of estate, but, from her dress and manner, it was clear she was a mere moment away from doing so.
“The Duke of Suffolk and Dowager Queen of France,” the court crier announced as they entered.
Her parents bowed and then after a moment’s hesitation Mary also greeted Anne Boleyn. Frances smiled, watching her mother give her the shallowest of curtseys that she could manage. After all, it was true she significantly outranked Anne.
If Anne was insulted she hid it very well.
Next, her brother went and greeted them. There was no hesitation on his part and he bowed low to both the King and Anne. Then again, he wasn’t aware of the political fighting that was ongoing. Finally, it was their turn and Frances lead the trio, Eleanor and Katherine following just a step behind her.
The King was smiling at them and wished them well.
Anne had looked upon them as though they were innocent babes. Did she not know that Frances had served Queen Catherine herself?
Unfortunately, she did not see much more of the King that day as he quickly sequestered himself away with his advisors. Among his favorites were her father the Duke of Suffolk, the Duke of Norfolk Anne’s uncle, and the newly made Lord Rochford, Anne’s father.
Her mother used the excuse of watching the servants unpacking to avoid joining Anne in her rooms, which had become the center of this new court. She didn’t have this excuse for long, though. By the afternoon, she decided she would have to make an appearance in Anne’s rooms.
She acted as if this was a great sacrifice on her part, and it was with a heavy heart that she marched herself over there. Frances entered behind her mother, who seemed to study every detail of the room from the embroidered cushions to the carpets laid out on the floor.
Frances saw many of the Queen’s younger ladies in waiting had switched alliances. Jane Rochford, Mary Boleyn and several other familiar faces were there. They seemed to gloat in the favor the King had shown them.
The ladies muttered to each other when Mary Tudor made her appearance. She did not ask for a chair from Anne but directed a groom to bring one in for her, and sat directly across from Anne and her ladies. A small show of defiance. Her mother was too proud to ask a lady lower than herself for anything. She would not be beholden to someone like Anne.
In the end, Frances sat near her mother and Katherine situated herself behind her, not wanting to draw attention to herself. Frances was not invited to talk and just watched with growing apprehension as some sort of normalcy developed.
Katherine looked sullen and remained quiet the entire time. No doubt she felt she was betraying Queen Catherine and her mother’s love for her.
“I wish we could go back and stay at Suffolk Place instead,” she whispered to Frances who was forced to agree with her.
That night at dinner they were seated at the high table. Anne was once again at the King’s side.
There was dancing after they ate, and Frances, who had been itching all this time to dance, found that she could not bring herself to do so. Unlike Queen Catherine’s court, the ladies here were more openly flirtatious and daring. They danced a quick jig and she had no hopes of keeping up. She decided it would be best to strike up an image on trying to maintain her propriety.
Dancing was beneath her.
Her mother danced with her father, showing off her gracefulness. Despite her age, she was still one of the most beautiful women in the room. Frances knew she was hoping to show up Anne, who was neither plump nor fair like her.
With her cheeks flushing red from the dancing, she curtseyed to her brother who applauded and complimented her.
“Dearest sister, you have been missed from court,” he called to her. “I hope you shall not leave it any time soon.”
“No, your grace.” She curtseyed again, sparing a glance to Anne at his side to see her reaction.
Anne was stony faced but quickly smiled and looked to Henry with one of her coquettish grins. She whispered something to him and he led her on to the dance floor.
Frances watched her flawless movements. It was true she was a very accomplished dancer. Her eyes seemed to light up with a passion as the music carried her away. She had neither the prettiness of her mother nor the youth of some of the younger girls in her train, but she entranced the room. The King was surely taken with her and for the first time Frances could see why.
Frances spotted the new Spanish ambassador Chapuys hanging back — a frown of displeasure on his face, but still even his eyes followed Anne’s every movement.
Cardinal Wolsey had also disappeared from the King’s rooms. It was now Bishop Gardiner who was the King’s most trusted advisor and secretary. Sir Thomas More had also been elevated to Wolsey’s old position of Lord Chancellor. He did not seem especially pleased by this and was talking to Chapuys quietly.
From what Frances knew of him, he was more a scholar than a politician. He was adamant about ridding England of all heretics. The way he spoke, one might assume the country was crawling with them.
Frances found this laughable, but she would never admit this out loud.
That first night proved to be the first of very long nights for her family.
In December, preparations were being made for the investiture of Thomas Boleyn to the Earldom of Wiltshire. This would be the first official royal ceremonies held in the exiled Cardinal’s old home.
“Mother, shall I wear the cream and purple dress?” Frances asked her hopefully. It suited her complexion quite well and her mother had not allowed her to wear it for quite some time, not wanting to ruin the expensive dress.
“I suppose you may.” Mary regarded her for a moment. “You may need to have the seamstress let out the hem. I think you have grown.”
Frances puffed out her chest proudly. She was growing into a woman. No longer would she be considered a child. Soon she might be married as well and be given even more precedence than before.
And if a commoner could marry a King, why couldn’t she have a King of her own? She thought the Dauphin of France might do. She heard he was handsome, or perhaps a Spanish prince, though that was unlikely seeing how England and Spain had become enemies.
It shocked the court to find Anne had been given a seat as though she was a royal consort beside the King at this event. Frances had seen her sitting by his side many times, but to sit in what looked like Catherine’s throne was an abomination.
The rest of the courtiers seemed to think the same — those who weren’t of Anne’s affinity anyways. They looked at the Boleyns with spite, not only for usurping the order of the world but also achieving more than they could dream of.
It didn’t help that Thomas Boleyn was also made Privy Seal, the third ranking office in the country mere days later.
&n
bsp; But just like her mother, they dared not voice their opinions.
The Queen, somewhere in her rooms, was left practically abandoned and unwanted. It was clear the King was proceeding ahead with his plans without any consideration of her feelings.
“Hurry up, Katherine!” Frances called behind her while still urging her horse forward. She didn’t want to get left behind in the hunting party.
They were riding through Windsor Forest, the hounds baying ahead as they closed in on their quarry.
Frances was irked by Katherine’s slowness but didn’t want to be left alone either. She did not have any friends among Anne’s other ladies. It made her feel better to have someone at her side.
She could see the King and Anne riding ahead, the gold sparkling in the sunlight that streamed through the forest canopy.
Her mother had been ill again and did not join the court on its progress around the countryside but rather retreated to Westhorpe Hall. Her father had been keen for Frances stay with the court and continue her education as a great lady of the realm.
It also lent some credibility that he approved of Anne with the King.
Mary had been unable to make a convincing effort so it rested with Frances to keep the way smooth. Anne had a power over the King that was unexpected by everyone. He didn’t want to find out what would happen if they crossed her.
Katherine’s horse stumbled and she nearly fell off.
“Katherine!” Frances pulled on her reins, bringing the horse to a stop.
“I’m alright. I think my horse lost its shoe,” she was panting as she tried to catch her breath. “I don’t think I can go on.”
Frances hesitated. She looked over her shoulder and saw the hunting party had nearly disappeared. She would be hard pressed to catch up now.
“It’s fine let’s turn back.”
She turned her horse around and they trod slowly back to the stables.
“I’m sorry,” Katherine said, but Frances was hard pressed to say anything to her. She couldn’t help but resent the fact that she had failed to make any impression on the hunt today, and she blamed this on Katherine.
This summer had been an endless stream of hunting excursions during the day and revelries in the evening. Following the return of Anne’s father from France, however, the court set off for Surrey.
The new tilt yard at Hampton Court was complete, and Henry wished to make use for it. As it turned out, there was another reason. Henry summoned key members of his parliament.
Frances saw firsthand her father’s mounting anxiety. He seemed to know what this parliament would be about, though he failed to share it with Frances.
A few days spent in the company of Anne and her ladies made it abundantly clear that the King was seeking a reformation. Anne often spoke about the corruptness in the church. Sometimes she even wondered aloud where in the bible was there any mention of a Pope.
Frances found this quite heretical. She was by no means a devoted woman but had been taught by teachers and priests how to read Latin and fear the wrath of God like any good Christian woman.
Her father seemed to believe that the King would not go so far as to break with Rome, but Frances wondered if he had already practically banished his blameless wife why not also ignore the Pope’s ruling?
One thing she knew was that she would try to stay out of Anne’s line of sight. She didn’t want that dangerous woman to hold anything against her. It terrified her how much power she could exert over the King. At this very moment, Cardinal Wolsey was heading for the Tower accused of treason. He was sure to perish there.
Christmas was full of tension at court. The King and Queen would walk to Mass together as courtly custom still dictated. This was one of the few times Frances had seen the Queen. Her father had forbidden her to spend much time in her company though, she did sneak away to give her a comforting letter from her mother.
However, this Christmas, Frances was witness to Anne’s conniving plots. Anne had already demanded the King to refuse to let Catherine continue sewing his shirts and had hired a woman to take care of his needs as, apparently, she lacked the talent herself. Now she was no longer okay with merely celebrating the holidays in her own court. She wished to be front and center.
She had not gotten her wish, but the King was ill disposed to Catherine nonetheless, as he saw her as the cause of his arguing with Anne.
They were sitting down to break their fast after Mass, when Frances saw Catherine itching to say something. She kept looking towards her husband then looking away.
“I shall go on the Thames after and I shall see you for the feast tonight, madam,” the King informed her in a light tone.
“In the company of that woman no doubt?”
“What do you mean?” She should have taken warning from his icy stare not to proceed but she did not relent.
“That woman, Anne Boleyn. The fact you keep her under your roof is shameful. You hurt me personally by openly showing her favor and you are setting a scandalous example.”
“And what is shameful about me spending time with an accomplished young woman?” He took on her challenge in calm silence, which Frances knew meant he had something up his sleeve.
“You alone know of the sin you are committing. Against me and God,” the Queen was self-righteous in her tone.
“Madam, let me reassure you that though I spend time in the company of Anne Boleyn, I have not done anything that you could call sinful with her.”
She opened her mouth to argue but he continued.
“Indeed, I wish to spend more time with her to get to know her better. Seeing as I have set my mind on marrying her.”
Catherine seemed stunned into silence. She regarded him just as coolly as he regarded her.
“I am still your wife, and until the Pope says otherwise, you are not free to marry.”
“We shall see.”
They were dining in semi-privacy with only a handful of lords and ladies present, but, by the afternoon, this conversation was repeated throughout the court. Everyone from the lowest scullery maid to the Bishop knew that the King had sworn out loud to marry the Boleyn woman.
Frances could see Catherine’s hold on her throne was slipping.
“Did he really say that to the King?” Katherine asked in a horrified whisper.
They were strolling through the gardens. The walkway had been cleared of snow and the warm day had left Frances in need of some fresh air.
Frances had just been told by her father that he felt guilt was weighing on his conscience. The King was going down the wrong path, and, though he did not wish to argue with him, the rightness of the Queen persuaded him to speak out.
“I was there when the King questioned my father on what the Queen had said.” Frances kept her friend on edge. “First, he had said the Queen would listen and obey her husband, the King, but she could not put his desires before two other things.”
“What?”
“God and herself or something like that.” Frances frowned. “Anyways, the King was furious. I think he realized even my father is against this divorce.
“The King wants her to retract her appeal to Rome.”
“So he can try the marriage here in England again? Did it not fail last time?” Katherine was sharper about politics than she was sometimes.
“I suppose so. Maybe, he is surer of his advisors and lawyers.”
Chapter Four
1531-1533
Ever since her father had declared for the Queen, it seemed as though nothing had gone quite right for them. Of course, the King still favored his friend, but he often chose the company of Anne Boleyn and her affinity. Thus, her father missed out on a number of posts that could have been awarded to himself.
More than that, it meant her father was too distracted to make any sort of marriage arrangements for her yet again. Frances often worried about being left a spinster while her parents were so busy with other matters.
Her mother had returned to court, but she rarel
y dared to visit the Queen. However, her quiet disapproval of her brother’s behavior seemed to temporize the King from mistreating his wife too much.
Then the King decided to move the court to Hampton Court. He rode ahead with Anne Boleyn as usual. The Queen behind them in her litter.
A few days after their arrival, the Queen noticed something wrong. Chapuys had been denied an audience with the King, who seemed to disappear for days at a time. This was not something new but what was new was the command for her to remain behind.
Frances was with her when Chapuys entered her privy room looking worried.
“The King has still not seen me,” he began. “Nor has he given a reason why you are to remain behind while he traverses the countryside with that whore.”
“It is not a surprise. He has put her at his side even on formal occasions now. He wishes to forget about me, but he will find that, while he can continue to diminish me, I shall not go anywhere.” Her voice broke as she struggled to voice her beliefs.
Frances stepped forward, taking her aunt’s hand in hers, trying to find some way to comfort her.
“I am afraid he shall act against you soon,” Chapuys went on.
“I shall pray.”
“I wish you could find some way to reconcile with your husband.”
Catherine fixed Chapuys with a glare that said: do you think that is not my dearest wish.
He looked embarrassed and began anew. “I shall inform your nephew of the new developments here. I am sure he shall help your majesty in any way he can.”
“Thank you,” Catherine said dismissively.
Frances sat with her for a while after this. Wondering if she should write a letter to her father as well. What was she to do if the Queen was indeed banished from court? Should she remain at her side?
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