by Diana Rubino
He frowned. "Was she distracting you?"
"Not in the least. She came in with handsome young Mark Smeaton and sat—"
"Mark Smeaton?"
"Aye. They came in together, he being very late for rehearsal. So she was certainly distracting him and she should not be allowed to engage your servants in such dalliance that they are distracted from their duty."
He'd stopped chewing, his eyes narrowing to the calculating slits she'd become so used to.
"Ah, well, she loves music. I told her she can stay on at court for a while longer, then she'll be going back home to Kent. Anne holds a mystique that the courtiers find intriguing, but if she does not wish to stay at court, she need not stay."
"But who...who is she, Henry? And why the French accent? I'm deeply curious."
He wiped his mouth before replying. "She spent a great deal of her childhood at the French court. The Boleyns are direct descendants of Edward the First. Her mother is Elizabeth Howard, whose grandfather died fighting for Richard at Bosworth. Her father Tom was an envoy to the Netherlands when I became King."
"Her sister was Mary Boleyn, was she not? One of your mistresses?" she asked quietly, trying to keep an edge out of her tone.
"A fleeting spark of my energetic youth many years ago," he replied airily. "She is now safely married to William Carey, a gentleman of the royal privy chamber. I also gave her brother George a position at court."
"So the family is united in their goal, that is, their social climbing efforts," she said, feeling a tightness in her chest.
"The Boleyns are good people, Amethyst. Her stock is solid, and she is talented and well-read. Not as much as you, of course. I would be so pleased if you would let her sing with you once or twice... She does so love to sing. She plays the virginals as well."
"Does she indeed," she replied brusquely, recalling the damaged little finger. "We do not need another musician, my lord."
"My Lady Amethyst, are you jealous of an insipid little buttercup?" Henry teased.
She blushed hotly. "Nay! Of course not. She seemed, well, rather hostile to me, that's all."
Henry shrugged off her remark and reached for more pheasant. "She feels very out of place now that Catherine is gone. Just make her feel welcome for just a while longer until her family decides what they wish to do."
"Speaking of a while longer, what of your divorce proceedings?"
"What of them? Nothing has happened since you last asked me twenty-four hours ago." He tore into the wing more voraciously, shutting her out.
She knew how her questioning irked him. But it had been so long since they'd heard anything. If only the Pope would say aye or nay, at least she would know one way or the other what her future would hold. If she had to wait for the Queen to pass away, well, she was a fair bit older than Henry but she could still live for years, and Amethyst did not want to wish anyone ill, let alone dead.
"Have you thought of any more solutions to the dilemma?"
He did not answer right away, but glared at her, took a swig from his goblet, and continued chewing. "Aye. But I do not care to discuss it right now."
"Is it about the break with Rome?" She'd heard, not from Henry, who discussed his matter with her less and less, but from talks among Cardinal Wolsey and others, that a break with the Catholic Church was the only solution to dissolve the marriage, though it would bring with it even more problems than it might solve.
"I know you are disinclined to create your own church. 'Tis such a grave matter and must be handled very delicately. But, sire, as your closest confidante, I can help you sort out the details. I can give you another point of view. A church that is not purely Catholic in all its dogmas may be the solution for all. A more progressive doctrine can be adapted without being considered heretic. Wolsey is an old man who may not be as sharp as someone younger, someone who can perhaps come up with more modern ideas and—"
"I am sick of this whole bloody matter!" he roared, spitting out a small bone.
"Well, how long do you think I can sit and wait for us to truly be together?"
"As damned long as I have to sit and wait!" he snapped.
"I am not the one who is desperate for an heir, my lord."
His face contorted with rage at that thought. "Nay, you are desperate to drive me mad!"
"I am not! If this is not solved, our years together will be wasted! I am not getting any younger, you know. You will tire of me and cast me aside for some pretty young thing just like you are doing with Catherine!"
Her eyes filled with tears and her vision of him became a blur of reddened head and ever-fattening face surrounded by piles of food. The sound of his chewing as he reached for a huge swan leg suddenly disgusted her.
She threw her napkin to the table and rose to leave. Waiting another few seconds for a reply, but finding none was forthcoming, she turned and stalked out of his apartments, nearly knocking down Anne Boleyn in the corridor as the little cat went about her business in the shadowy night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Henry chose the next day to embark on a hunting trip to his lodge in Oxfordshire, taking the Boleyns—Anne included—with him. With this perfect opportunity to visit home and see how the family was doing, Amethyst swiftly tossed some garments into a trunk.
A knock at her chamber door brought her chambermaid in.
"You have a visitor, Lady Amethyst. She's in your receiving chamber. Lady Topaz."
Topaz was here! Her first reaction was gladness. She was finally going to see her sister after so these months. Then logic set in, and she began to recall what had taken place on that last visit. She immediately started wondering, and rightly so, exactly what her sister wanted. She began to feel sure that it wasn't a social visit. "I shall be glad to receive her," she said stiffly. "Do send her in."
One of her ladies-in-waiting was sitting on a footstool working on needlepoint and attendants were in the outer chamber chatting. If Amethyst had any idea what her sister was here to discuss, she thought it best they go somewhere alone. The chapel would be the perfect place. It was empty from morning Mass until Vespers and it was barely noon.
Moments later, the chambermaid returned, but Topaz pushing past her through the doorway to Amethyst. She was a forest of deep rich green satins. Her eyes echoed a circlet of green flowers gracing the burnished copper that tumbled freely to her hips, windblown, yet looking wild and natural. Her gown glowed, setting off the light blue of the flowers strung round her neck, nestled in between her uplifted breasts.
"Amethyst!"
They embraced lightly. The warmth of the greeting left Amethyst still not knowing what to expect.
"Why do you visit me at court, Topaz? Is there a problem at home? How are the lads?" she asked, ushering Topaz out of her apartments into the hallway towards the chapel.
"All is well in Warwickshire. And where are we going?"
"To the chapel, where we will have complete privacy."
They reached the chapel and Amethyst leaned on the ancient wooden door to open it. It squeaked on its rusty hinges as they entered, then she closed it and they took seats at the back. Colored bands of light streamed in through the stained glass windows and the aroma of burning incense hung in the air.
"So Harry the Great is away. And where is the Queen?"
"She is preparing to be removed to Ampthill. Topaz, would you have come had the King been in residence?"
"Perhaps. Just to see how fat he's gotten."
"He's not gotten fat; he's...muscular, that's all. Not only that, he is wise and intellectual and well-read. We sit and discuss many topics, sometimes until the wee hours of morning."
"When does he have time to consort with the likes of court minstrels?" she asked suspiciously.
Amethyst heaved a sigh of relief. So the news of her closeness to the King hadn't reached Warwickshire and Matthew hadn't told anyone. She was sending all his letters to his other manor house in Evesham, to keep them out of curious hands.
"The
King is a cordial host and has time for all his courtiers."
"But of course. What else has he got to do?" her sister said with a dismissive wave.
"So what other tidings do you bring, Topaz? Have you finally brought your cavalry of rebels to storm the palace?" she said lightly, though the pang at her heart as soon as she uttered the words momentarily took her breath away.
"Hardly. I wish to bring you tidings from the family, give you their regards, see how court life was treating you, and to tell you that Matthew and I are separating."
"What? " This was even more of a surprise than the King's revelation that he had decided to divorce his queen. "What has happened? Can things not be mended between you for the sake of the boys?"
Yet even as she said this, she immediately felt sorry for Matthew, who had given this woman the best years of his life, only to be tossed aside like a used rag that had outlived its usefulness.
"He decided we cannot go on living together as man and wife while he does not support my cause. I wished him well, took the children and left a fortnight ago."
"'Twas his idea?" she asked in surprise.
"Aye, but we both could see it coming. It got to be that the marriage was in name only. We ceased sharing our bed months ago. 'Twas not a shock, believe me, when he finally sat me down and requested that we separate."
A burst of relief pervaded the abrupt shock at the news. She shared Matthew's long-awaited peace of mind.
"So where do you make your residence now?"
"Warwick Castle. Where else?"
"What about the lads? How are they taking this?"
"They are fine. They sensed something was amiss long ago. We both explained that we cannot live together as man and wife any more, but that does not diminish our love for them. They are with me, being tutored as always and well protected."
Over-protected, she wanted to say. And forced into believing her ideals like a pair of innocent puppies following after a ravening she-wolf.
Topaz grimaced. "I know you are a hopeless romantic, but let's be plain about the matter. There is no longer any reason for us to live together, Amethyst. I have my heirs, and he refuses to support my cause. He is no husband of mine."
"Are you divorcing?" she heard herself ask suddenly, and wondered why the idea both shocked and pleased her.
Topaz shook her head. "Nay! I shall not allow that dishonor. I shall retain the title, I brought him the dowry, I shall not let him off that easily. It would be too traumatic for the lads. We shall remain married, but in name only, and maintain separate establishments so long as we both live."
Amethyst suddenly felt nervous and on edge. She knew immediately that she would be hearing from Matthew any time now.
"Well, I hope you have done the right thing. What did you do with your animals?"
"I'm having an addition built to the stables with a huge fireplace and clean straw mats. They will all be coming to me as soon as it can be arranged." She smoothed her skirts for a moment, then asked, "So where does the King stand on his own great matter? Pray it was much easier for me to rid myself of Matthew than it will ever be for him to dispense with Catherine, banishment or no."
"She insists she was a virgin through her entire marriage to Arthur, so that she and Arthur were never married and therefore there are no grounds for an annulment nor a divorce on the grounds of consanguinity."
Topaz threw her head back and laughed, her eyes crinkling in delight. "How utterly typical of court knavery! How genuinely amusing! In order to keep Henry within her clutches, Catherine insists she was never married to Arthur, and Henry turns round and insists he was never married to Catherine, because she was married to Arthur! What a vicious circle indeed! The poor Pope must feel like a right tennis ball during an endless volley! Catherine and Henry each pleading their wretched cases before the Holy judgment of Rome and just going around in circles! Well! Did Arthur leave his young bride pure and untouched or not? That is one mystery that will live unsolved through the ages—did she or didn't she?
"If I remember correctly Aunt Margaret's recollections, Arthur was a frail lad indeed. Notwithstanding his bragging from the marriage bed about having been 'six miles into Spain,' I tend to believe Catherine. Sometimes the best of them are duds when it comes down to the rigors of a command performance. Kings included!"
How many kings have you bedded? she wanted to ask her smug sister.
"So where does that leave them, then?" Topaz continued. "At an impassible stalemate, like the king and queen on the proverbial chessboard, stymied by a pawn. Who can ever prove whether Catherine was a virgin during her marriage to Arthur? That truth has followed him to his grave as it will follow Catherine."
"The King believes she is Arthur's widow, and on that belief is appealing to the Pope for a divorce."
"And what odds does the court lay on his success?" Topaz asked, her eyes glittering with malice.
Amethyst lifted her chin proudly, annoyed at having fallen into her sister's trap so easily. "I know not; I do not engage in court gossip. I do not even know why I am discussing this with you. Is there nothing else you have to report, Topaz?"
"Well, yes there is..."
Here it comes.
"I was hoping you would return home to Warwick with me."
Although she was literally halfway out the door to return home to Warwick, she now paused in her decision to go, recalling how she had nearly died the last time she had been there and in her sister's company.
"Whatever do you want me there for?"
Topaz shrugged one shoulder as if the matter were of little import. "Court can be very corrupt and the King may act impetuously one day. Just the way he is handling his marriage is a good indication of his capricious character. I fear for your safety and would have you home safely with us before his ever more changeable nature hurts you irrevocably."
Amethyst glared at her sister. "Oh yes, I see. You've come here to help me, have you?"
"Of course. It's what sisters do."
"You want to help yourself, more like," she retorted. "You want to try to goad me into fighting for your cause again. I did what I could to get the King to dig into the treasury to help your dejected Whitechapel friends. But the King has got enormous expenses, such as building the navy to guard against those relentless French and a standing army to protect us against the Scots. Do you not have enough support among Henry's enemies? Pray God he doesn't need another one, least of all me."
"You are my sister and I am worried about you, here at court in such a vulnerable position. I fear for what will happen to you, caught in the middle like this. He may use you as a scapegoat once my cause gets under way in earnest."
"And Lord knows I am worried about you! But Henry is not that man–"
"He is. He has ample cause."
"What cause?"
"The same reason his father killed our father! Does that hold any more logic?"
"He is not his father, he is a kind and gentle king and I trust him! He would not hurt me no matter what you did."
She shook her head. "You are playing a dangerous game, Amethyst." Topaz rose and rubbed her hands together. The air was growing chilly in the unheated chapel.
"Nay, it is you whose head will be on the block if you persist in this folly."
"I know you mean well, but I can't do anything else."
She gripped her sister's hand hard. "Yes you can. You can give up this overweening ambition of yours before it costs you dearly."
Topaz shook her head. "It is already in motion. I can't back out now."
"When is your great rebellion going to take place?" she asked almost mockingly.
Topaz shot her sister a look of perplexity. "I cannot tell you that. 'Tis not going to be on the morrow, that's all I can say. I must wait until the timing is just right, when the King is at his most vulnerable. Then I shall proceed."
"You are the one inviting danger, Topaz! You are endangering the lives of your sons as well as both of ours! You have signed your o
wn death warrant already. The King does not take you seriously now, but once your rebellion begins to materialize, you will not last one day. Either way, it would tear the country apart, shed rivers of innocent blood, and ruin more lives than you would ever salvage as queen."
Topaz stiffened and rose from her seat."We shall see. But I am doing what I feel is right for this kingdom. This is your last chance. Will you return home with me or not?"
She shook her head. "Nay. I am going nowhere with you. Even if I had any sympathy for your cause, which I do not, to travel back with you would make it look as though I supported your actions. I can't afford guilt by association and if you will not change your mind and give up this disastrous course of action, I have no choice but to shift for myself as best I can here at court with Henry."
