Madge saw the king’s face grow rosy at the mention of the monasteries.
“Madame, you would do well to forget the plight of the poor and homeless and think of your own danger. Though I raised you up, I can just as easily cast you down again,” hissed the king, though quietly.
His remarks seemed to reach something in the queen. Her eyes focused on his mouth and she brought her hand to his face for a gentle caress.
“Ah, Harry, would you strike me down so soon? My dearest love, would you frighten me when I am only sorry to have disappointed you so? My heart breaks for our son and for you, too, my king. I have failed you—perhaps I am not worthy of the honor you have given me,” said Anne. Her brown eyes were moist and enormous-looking. Madge thought she had never looked as fragile or as pretty. She could see the king’s face lose its harshness, love flooding his features once again.
“I would have you in my bed once more, sweetheart. I would have you happy and gay, dancing and singing as you did before,” said Henry.
“Then all shall be as you command, my lord,” said the queen. She clapped her hands to stop the music and rose.
“Dear friends, thank you for being so jolly and spry. And Master Smeaton, thank you for the lively song. I will now play and sing for the king’s good pleasure and would ask that you leave us,” said the queen.
Madge started from her post behind the queen but the queen turned to her.
“Lady Margaret, if you will stay with me—I need your strength. Lie on your pallet and be still as a mouse—Mistress Mouse, as George calls you,” said the queen. She was smiling at Madge, though it was a sad smile.
The room emptied, Madge lay on her side facing toward the king and queen, though she had no clear view of them. The queen began to play and hum, a slow song. Madge thought she recognized it as a ballad from her childhood about a lady who was forced to marry against her will. Rather than give herself to her husband, she walked into the sea where she had watched her lover sail away. When the queen had finished the song, the king spoke softly.
“Madame, you have not lost your charm—I could listen to you sing all this night,” he said. He rose and indicated the queen was to rise also. Then, he took her in his arms and began to dance with her, gently, around the room. He sang himself, his strong tenor voice lilting this way and that, singing a love song. When the song was over, he kissed the queen on the mouth.
“Come away with me, Anne. Let us start anew. A Progress would take us far from here, far from our pain. Come away…” he said, kissing her face, her hands, her neck.
Her Majesty stood perfectly still. She seemed to allow this lovemaking but was not participating in it. It seemed to Madge that the queen’s inner heart was far, far away.
The king stopped his kisses and looked into the queen’s eyes.
“I cannot, Harry. I do not wish to go on Progress—I need some time to heal my body and my soul. You go ahead, beloved. Go and hunt as you list. When you return, I promise I will be my old self. While you are gone, I will spend my days in prayer and my nights also. I must have this time, dearest, else I may never return to myself,” said the queen with dignity.
“If this is what you wish … it shall be so. Perhaps it will help to send our daughter to you here. That should cheer you,” said the king.
Madge saw Anne’s face light up.
“Yes, Henry! Send Elizabeth to me, my love! And when you return, you shall find me ever cheerful and happy once more—then, my dearest, we shall endeavor to make a prince!” said the queen.
With that, she kissed the king on the cheek and clapped her hands for the servants to bring them refreshment. She did not see the dark look the king gave her in her happiness. But Madge saw.
* * *
Over the next week, plans and preparations were made for the king’s Progress. The princess Elizabeth journeyed from Hatfield with Lady Bryan, while the lady Mary stayed at Eltham with Madge’s parents. On the day before most of the court departed with the king, Madge was hurrying to Cate’s room, hoping to meet Arthur there. She had received a message from him that morning.
“Come in, Maddie-girl. I’m almost packed. I wish you were coming with me,” said Cate as she placed her creams and lotions into a cachet. Shadow sat at her side.
“You must keep your eyes and ears open—so you can report all to me of the king. If there are any who plot against Her Majesty, you must give me their names as well. With the loss of her son, the queen is in a weakened state, both in her body and mind, but also, I fear, with the king himself,” said Madge.
“Aye. It is said he is already enamored of a new beauty. He is a rascal, our sovereign. Barely buries his son until he’s on the move to a new love. Granted, I have not loved the queen but I am sorry for Anne now. These cannot be easy times for her,” said Cate.
“Indeed, they are not. But remember, Cate, though the queen follows the new religion, it is she who has tried to stop the dissolution of the monasteries and convents. She has made an enemy of Master Cromwell by doing so. And she has great concern for the poor and for the education of our people,” said Madge.
“Tut, tut. All well and good, but she has much to atone for—our dear Queen Catherine’s misery at Kimbolton for one thing. They say Anne is poisoning her and trying to poison the lady Mary as well,” said Cate.
“Surely you do not listen to such idle gossip—my own woman! The queen is as godly a woman as I know and growing more so with the passing of each day. She would be kind to the lady Mary if only the lady Mary would accept her. And ’tis not the queen who has sent the dowager princess to Kimbolton—that order came from His Majesty,” said Madge.
“No matter now. We must do our best to preserve her—for in preserving the queen, we preserve the fates of our whole family,” said Cate. “And for that reason and that reason alone, Maddie-girl, I will be your eyes and ears on the Progress. Now, methinks I hear the familiar step of Master Brandon on the cobbles,” said Cate with a smile. Shadow stood and began to jump around.
Before he could knock, Madge opened the heavy door and Arthur stepped inside.
He swept Madge into his arms, twirling her in quick circles as he kissed her. Then, he set her down and stared into her face.
“Pretty Madge, you do grow more beautiful each day—let’s see, it has been five whole days since last we met—that makes you five times more lovely,” he said, kissing her full on the mouth.
“Arthur—we are not alone, remember?” said Madge.
“Aye, forgive me, dearest. I forgot my manners I was so anxious to see you,” said Arthur. “Mistress Cate, how goeth the preparations?”
“Well enough, young Brandon, well enough. We leave on the morrow and will not return until the birthday of the princess,” said Cate. “I will hate to leave Shadow here.” Cate patted Shadow’s head and took her small cache of herbs and medicines out to the wagons below. “I shall be back in a few moments. Mind your manners, Master Brandon.”
“At last! We are alone,” said Arthur as he held Madge once again, Shadow nudging between them with her cold nose.
“Yes, my love! It has been far too long since mine arms have held you,” said Madge, resting against him. For a moment, they were silent. The whole court bustled outside Cate’s door.
“All this fuss and going about! ’Tis trouble indeed! I am glad to stay here,” said Madge.
“But think of the adventure you shall miss, my love! Hunting and feasting, tilting, dancing, and riding through the wild north country! I wish you were coming—I shall be miserable without you!” said Arthur.
“By the sound, you shall be quite happy—hunting and dancing and singing! You shall not miss me one whit!” said Madge.
“Ah, let me show you just how much I shall miss those pretty dukkies!” said Arthur, fondling her playfully.
“None of that, sire. We must be more careful than ever. Now that we have lost our prince,” said Madge.
“I will not give up, Pretty Madge. I will have you yet—as my wife, of course!�
� he said as Madge swung her small fists at his chest.
“Dearest, do be careful while you are traveling with the king. There are dangers,” said Madge.
“Yes—the biggest being the king himself! Fear not! I shall endeavor to please His Majesty in all things,” said Arthur.
“His wrath is a fiery furnace these days. I fear what may happen if the queen does not regain her pluck soon. She still mopes and cries, though having the little princess with her seems to help. Sharpen your ears and eyes, my darling. We must keep the queen informed on all the moods of the king. Her safety is our safety,” said Madge.
“You speak more and more like a true courtier, mistress. I like it not,” said Arthur.
“I would survive, sir. You should seek to do the same,” said Madge.
Twenty-four
During the six weeks of the king’s Progress, Madge, the queen, and Princess Elizabeth enjoyed a peaceful time. Each day, the queen and Madge attended the Mass given by Matthew Parker, the newly appointed bishop. Often, Parker would accompany the queen to her apartments afterward and they would discuss ways to bring the English Bible to the people. Madge sat at the queen’s feet, her sewing in her hand, and listened as the queen and Master Parker discussed theology and God and death and salvation. The queen seemed to change before Madge’s eyes. She was no longer the young woman who had conquered the most goodly king in all the world; no longer the laughing, dancing maiden without a care in the world but to comb her dark hair and flash her dark eyes; no longer the one who gambled with cards and rode into the hunt with the enthusiasm of the king himself. The queen now seemed more dignified. She had grown serious and desired above all things to see virtue and goodness at court. Her ladies and their religious lives concerned her, as did the king’s health and well-being. She and Master Parker talked about the bloodshed that tainted the kingdom and how the queen might spare more of those labeled heretic as well as those who labored in the monasteries. The princess Elizabeth and her well-being worried the queen, too, though Master Parker assured Her Grace that Elizabeth’s place was secure.
Madge listened and learned. Slowly, as the days gave way to one another and the sky turned that brilliant blue of autumn, the queen regained much of herself, though she was no longer young in either looks or in spirit. Madge thought her to be the most beneficent, wise, and kindly of queens. The stresses and strains had taken their toll on her beauty, yet Anne still possessed the kind of charm men found alluring. At least, Madge believed this to be true.
“Here Purkoy! Ici, mon chienne! Vitement!” cried the queen. Purkoy ran to his mistress’s arms, jumped up, and licked the queen on the face, his fluffy tail wagging and his bright eyes happy at the almost constant attention the queen had bestowed upon him while the king and the court had been on Progress.
“Bon chienne! Bon!” said the queen. Princess Elizabeth reached for Purkoy’s ear, grabbed it, and held on while the dog settled into the queen’s lap, next to the princess.
“The princess likes Purkoy, methinks,” said Madge, laughing as the two played, rumpling the queen’s nightdress.
“Mais oui! Naturellement!” said the queen as both pup and baby crawled over her.
“I have not seen you this happy in some time, Your Grace,” said Madge.
“It is pleasant, is it not, to have our rooms to ourselves. Surrounded by those we love and those who love us—’tis a rare moment at court. No one here is scheming; the king isn’t stealing a glance at some young maid—well, he may be doing thus but at least not before my very eyes!” said the queen.
“Yes, Majesty—I, too, have enjoyed our time away from the fuss and bother—why, ’tis noon and we are still frolicking in our nightclothes!” said Madge. “The only unpleasant sight is Master Cromwell, who scowls at me when I am forced to walk the corridors on Your Majesty’s business—what a man is he!” said Madge.
“He is not pretty but he does his master’s bidding almost as well as Wolsey did. Though I trust him not—he is ruthless against the monasteries and wouldst take from the church to fill the king’s coffers,” said the queen.
“Let us not think on such things today—the sun is high in the sky and the birds are winging across the gardens. Shall we take the princess and our dogs out for a walk?” said Madge.
“A grand idea. Come, Elizabeth, let us dress you—the blue silk, I think—it matches her eyes, eh Lady Margaret?” said the queen as she began to remove Elizabeth’s nightdress.
Madge helped dress both the queen and the princess, slipped one of her older dresses on as she would be handling the dogs. Soon they headed for the gardens and the fields beyond, where Shadow and Purkoy chased hares and fetched sticks.
* * *
The early days of autumn passed with a continuing sense of peace and contentment for Madge and the queen. One glorious day melted into another and as the weeks passed, the queen’s face became more relaxed and her youth seemed to return, along with her fiery spirits. Madge, though much younger, could hardly keep up with the queen, such was her energy and happiness. Though there were still moments when Madge found the queen in tears over her lost child, those instances grew more and more infrequent. The presence of the princess Elizabeth seemed the best medicine for the queen’s broken heart.
* * *
At the Feast of St. Michael and All Angels, Bishop Parker said a special Mass for the queen and those few ladies left in her service. After the Mass, the queen invited the bishop to her apartments for the midday meal. Madge served them both.
In the middle of the meal, Madge heard a commotion outside the queen’s rooms and instructed the guard to allow her into the open hall so she could see what was causing the stir.
“I would see the queen or her bedwoman, Lady Margaret Shelton! It is of urgent import!” said a man’s voice.
“Arthur! What are you doing here?” said Madge. She hurried to him, nodded a quick greeting, pushed the guard’s arm away, and led him just outside the queen’s door.
“Mistress, I have news which you must hear—you and then, the queen,” said Arthur, his eyes full of concern.
“Come,” said Madge as she led him down the hall to Cate’s room. Once inside, she kissed him but he pushed her aside.
“Mistress, though I have missed your kisses, what I have to tell you must come first,” said Arthur, tossing his cap onto Cate’s bed.
“Well? Speak man!” said Madge.
“It is the king, Margaret. He is at Wulfhall, Sir John Seymour’s manor near Savernake Forest,” said Arthur.
“’Tis the right time for His Majesty to be so—’twas planned in his Progress,” said Madge.
“You do not understand—I believe the king is interested in the Lady Jane Seymour. They dine together each evening, often alone with only her parents to chaperone. They hunt of a morning, then the lady retires to her sewing while Great Harry bowls or naps. I fear the king’s heart is going out to the quiet, ever-gentle Lady Jane,” said Arthur.
“This cannot be true—it is uncharitable for me to speak thus, but the lady in question is … well, she is…”
“Plainer than dirt? Aye, that she is and almost as muddle-headed. She is nothing like our queen, who shines and glitters with wit and style. How the king can think of Lady Jane, I do not know—I like my women fair and lovely to behold,” said Arthur, grabbing Madge’s waist and kissing her quickly on the tip of her nose.
“Perhaps this is the reason for his attraction—perhaps he tires of the sparkle of the diamond and longs for the softer look of a…” said Madge.
“Plain polished stone? I know, I know, give me not that stare! I should not poke fun at the poor lady because she has no beauty—after all, not everyone can be a beauty,” said Arthur.
“Are you sure of this, dearest? Is there no room for doubt?” said Madge.
“It is what my eyes tell me, my love. I wish it were not so. There are some who say the king fancies a pretty lass, one full of life and dancing. But no one can say her name and I have
not seen His Majesty press any such girl in particular. The one His Majesty spends time with is the Lady Jane Seymour,” said Arthur.
“We must go to the queen at once,” said Madge as she led him into the queen’s privy chamber.
* * *
“Such news does not surprise me, Master Brandon. I am, however, quite taken aback that you should ride all this way to tell me about it,” said the queen, sitting at her gaming table with Arthur and Madge standing in front of her.
“I am sorry to bring such tidings, Your Majesty, but I would serve you honestly,” said Arthur.
“But your father, my lord Suffolk, holds no love for me. Why do you care about my case?” said the queen.
Arthur did not speak. For a long moment, silence hung in the room like a thick cloud.
“Majesty, Master Brandon knows of my great love for Your Grace. I asked him to keep me informed about the court while on Progress. My nurse, Cate, has the same instructions,” said Madge.
“Mistress Cate is your servant—naturally she would bring news and would be loyal to you. This does not explain the actions of Master Brandon,” said the queen.
“It is because, though I love Your Majesty, there is another I love—my lady Margaret, your dear cousin,” said Arthur. Madge noticed he looked pale and his hand trembled at his side.
“Ha! My eyes told me thus some time ago, sir. I wanted to see if you had the nerve to say the words here, to me. It pleases me that you have such courage,” said the queen.
“What shall we do, Your Majesty? What’s to be done?” said Madge.
“We shall go on Progress ourselves, Lady Margaret! We shall join the king at Wulfhall and then we shall see who captures him!” said the queen, her eyes lit with sparks of anger and will and determination. “I will not give up so easily that which has cost me everything,” the queen whispered under her breath.
* * *
The queen rode in a litter covered with the Tudor colors and Arthur led the small procession on an enormous white steed. Lady Margaret rode on a palfrey beside him and the journey itself was full of laughter and sweet lovers’ words. The queen brought her most sumptuous clothes and her most valuable jewels. She also packed her lute, her virginals, a dancing costume, and a small harp as she intended to entertain His Majesty as she had done when first they met. The nip in the air brought out the roses in Her Majesty’s cheeks and her weeks of rest and play had done her much good. She was ready to win back her king and Madge had no doubt but that she would do so.
At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn Page 18
