by G Lawrence
I looked at him sharply; there was hope in my heart suddenly. “We are rising well at court,” my father continued. “Your sister is pleasing to the King, your brother is a growing friend to him too, and you have made a goodly impression on the court these few months that you have been here. Already you have been chosen above others for entertainments and, I see, all the women here are now dressed like you! There is not a gown that has not your sleeves, nor a headdress that does not look like you designed it. Everywhere I turn I see women aping you. That shows promise, child, even if these are just women’s matters. And that shows that I was right to choose you for education abroad. You have done well with it. Your marriage will be greater even than Mary’s, I am determined of that, and between you, George and Mary, greater wealth and prestige will come to our family. If I thought that the only way to gain the Ormond title was through your marriage to the Butler boy, then I would do so; but our star is rising here at court and we need not waste you on this marriage when we can amass that title by other means.”
“You play chess with your children, father,” I mused lightly. “I hope to be more useful than a mere pawn.”
“And hence the delay in packing you off to Ireland,” he ignored my last comment. “Besides,” he said with a slightly puzzled look, “the King does not seem as enthusiastic now as he was for the match at first. It is strange, for I have said nothing to overly deter him and I know Wolsey has not either. Usually he listens to the Cardinal in all things… But now, His Majesty seems less interested in the idea, and without the support of the King…” He lifted his eyes to heaven. “Without the support of the King, a loyal subject such as I could not continue in good conscience with talks of such a match.”
He smiled at me and his eyes seemed soft for once. “Worry not, daughter, we shall not waste you in the quagmire of Ireland… There will be better moves we can make with you.”
I felt my heart race in pleasure. I nodded my head to him, but could not help but smile widely. I turned the smile to James Butler and waved a little at him, causing my father to grin, making him look like a lion who has just devoured its prey.
The treaty between England and Spain was agreed upon at Windsor. Henry agreed support for Charles in the war against France, stating that the French King had made it impossible for his nation to join with England; that François had gone against the old Treaty of London, and would not stand with Spain against the incoming threat of the barbaric Turks and their empire, which was already straining at Charles’ outer empire. Henry of England and Charles of Spain agreed that they should stand united against this threat, and were honour-bound to defend the Church. If François refused to make peace, then war would be declared on France, until both parties had seized the territories to which they had ancient right. For Charles, there would be the old duchy of Burgundy and Italy, and for Henry, the lands of Gascony and Normandy, although all knew that Henry was hoping for the whole of France to be his, so that he could take the ancient right of the King of England, to be known also as the King of France.
Henry and Charles were to invade French lands; Henry’s forces were to march from Calais towards Paris, and Charles’ armies would invade from Spain. When France fell, it would be torn up and divided between the two Kings, like two dogs tearing at a deer carcass.
A second, more secret treaty was made, although all knew about it at court; that the Emperor would marry the Princess Mary in eight years’ time. They tried to keep it a secret because of the political repercussions of the match; it meant that Henry of England was accepting he would have no son, and that Charles would one day become the King of England… But also, the Princess was at that time betrothed to the French Dauphin, something that might cause complications along the way. Charles promised himself to the little Princess, swearing to take her as a wife when she reached a marriageable age. The incongruous couple would require a dispensation from the Pope, seeing as they were related with a second degree of affinity, being cousins, but this would be petitioned for later, when the marriage became public knowledge. For his support for the match, and help with the negotiations, Charles promised Cardinal Wolsey something that meant more to the greedy Cardinal than anything else in the world; support in the next papal elections. Wolsey wanted to become the most powerful man in the Church, and possibly in the world… He wanted to become the Pope.
Henry invested Charles with the highest knightly honour in England, the Order of the Garter, in a grand ceremony in St George’s Palace in Windsor. That evening, there was one of the greatest feasts we had ever known at court, and a few days later, Wolsey assembled a legatine court; acting as the papal legate, the Cardinal received the declarations of the Emperor and the King as though he were the Pope himself. If either of them broke from the terms of the treaty now, then it was understood they would be subject to the terrible possibility of excommunication from the Church. They were bound by God, by the laws of man, and by promise to each other, to go to war with France.
Chapter Ten
Windsor Castle
1522
It was at another entertainment, put on for the King of Spain in June, when I finally came to be presented personally to the King himself. Henry was the head of the court and of the country. He was constantly surrounded by people of his own choosing, and one did not approach the King uninvited. I had seen him often enough when he came to visit with the Queen, but his time then was taken up by with dining with her, talking with her, or on the rare times when he came in his night-shirt, escorted by his servants, by sleeping in her bed. When he came to the chambers of the Queen, she had eyes for him alone. The way in which she looked on her handsome husband was almost embarrassing; for the gentle calm of her face would give way to a kind of desperate hunger. We all knew that she hoped above all things to once more become with child by him, and this seemed to be the source of her desperate appetite for him. I found it a little distasteful; her want for Henry was so keen and clear that it was like a banner writ in blood and held over her tired, fattened body. Katherine loved him, of that I was sure, but it seemed that her desire for a child, a son, was her most keen and poignant wish.
The candles had been lit and the light of the approaching summer’s sky had not yet fully retreated. Every night and day when Charles of Spain was here in England we had entertainments; jousting had gone on during the day, with Henry breaking the spears of all whom rode against him, and in the night, tumblers performed during the meal as we ate. Music was to be performed afterwards, as well as dancing. The tables of court were always heavy with food, as Henry liked to show his wealth at all times. We took from the shared platters of braised beef with poudre fort, tasted young rabbit cooked in a sauce that was both sweet with sugar and sour with wine vinegar. We spooned out portions of stewed mutton, spinach fritters, and roasted salmon. There was fine, fluffy white bread to soak up the sauce of venison pottage, flavoured with sage, hyssop and parsley. There was bright, expensive ale and there were good, rich wines with which to wash the courses down. After, there were fried fig pastries, peach marmalade, and huge fruit pies, dusted with sugar and decorated with the Tudor rose, the three-towered castle of Castile, and the Queen’s own pomegranate badge. There were decorated salt cellars of silver, moulded into shapes of hunting dogs and royal lions, from which to dip salt onto one’s plate, and fine linen cloth to use as napkins over one’s left shoulder.
It was easy to over-eat here, to give in to the sin of gluttony, but I was a spare and sparse eater, and had been tutored well in Burgundy and France. Even if it had not been considered impolite and un-Christian to eat all the food before me, I still would not have done so. I had learned that too much food made the senses dull and too much wine led to danger, such as I had faced in France on that night when a man had tried to take me by force. But a little wine to loosen the senses and some foods to fire the body were enough for me. My waist was a thin as a whip, but my body was strong as a horse. Hours of dancing and hunting made my figure beautiful and lithe, and a
lthough I did not meet the English round-cheeked standard of beauty, my fine figure and small but raised breasts were far more attractive than their soft and lumpy bodies… So I thought, at least. It was generally considered to be a sign of nobility, to be a little rounded in the belly and the form, but in being slim and slight, I stood out more from the other women… and standing out was what mattered if one was to be noticed at court.
After the feast there came dancing and music; the trestle tables that we had dined upon were taken away, and the uneaten foods were taken as alms to the palace gates to feed the poor. I gathered myself and went to talk to the musicians, as I was to play and sing this evening along with other women of the court for the entertainment of the Emperor and our own King.
As I was readying myself, my father made his way to me and took me by the hand. “The King wishes to be introduced to you, daughter,” he said, and there was an inference of something else in his eyes. Perhaps he hoped to have two daughters to grace the King’s bedchamber… perhaps doubling the generosity of the sovereign to our family? I flushed at the thought, which my father took as feminine modesty upon being favoured by the King.
“That is good,” my father nodded approvingly at my flushed cheeks. “The King likes to see that he creates a humbling impression on his subjects.”
I flushed deeper, as though on command, and was led over to the great and imposing figure of Henry, King of England, who sat next to his queen and the Emperor at the head of the hall. Although I had seen him often enough around the court, and fleetingly as he had visited Katherine’s chambers, I was taken aback by the brilliance that hit my eyes as I looked at him; dressed in rich red and cloth of gold, his hands covered in rings and diamonds winking from his coat, he was a dazzling figure.
Although he was older now than that young king I had spied on in Burgundy, he was no less handsome and his golden-red hair was bright and thick. He was a large man, so broad in the chest that I could think of no equal to him. And he was tall, standing head and shoulders over many other men. His legs, which I had heard he was proud of, were fine and strong and covered in close-fitting silk of deep, crisp white. Upon his head was a handsome cap decorated with feathers and jewels. His blue eyes sparkled as he watched my approach, and he looked at me with narrowed and interested eyes. I was dressed in a fine gown of rich greens; my hair was covered by the French-style hood that I always wore, but there was enough of it uncovered that anyone could see its fine sparkle and body. My skin was fresh and clear and I had youth in my blood.
I was but twenty-one years old when I was presented to the man who would later become my husband and my heart’s true love… and eventually, my murderer.
My father brought me before this great King and my heart raced in my breast. Suddenly, all those thoughts and feelings that I had felt for him from afar, as a young girl, came flooding back. I curtseyed and looked up into his striking face; those blue eyes, bright as the sea on a clear summer’s day, looked down into my black eyes and I saw his breath quicken as he took in my form and face. His eyes smouldered upon me as I stood before his awesome figure. He liked well what he saw before him; that was obvious from the first.
I looked up into the figure of the most glorious prince who had ever ruled our lands and I felt the power and charisma that extended from him; there was never another man to match him. Other rulers may have more lands, more wealth and more power, but none had the magnetism of Henry of England, nor his strikingly handsome face.
My mouth parted as though to speak, but my breath was stolen from my body by the look he gave me. There was a sense between us of attraction, so profound, so powerful… it called to him from me. I wanted him then as I had never known desire or want before. There was an aching feeling of want between my thighs and from my chest which seemed to speak to him. I was soft and ready for him at that moment and overwhelmed by my sudden lack of control. Had he taken my hand and led me to a chamber then and there, I should have been as eager for him as a starving man for meat. My mouth went dry and my heart pounded on the bars of my chest. I was overcome. He could see that, and it pleased him.
And all this occurred just an instant before I remembered that this man was my sister’s lover, and the husband of my mistress! He was the King of my country. I swept to the floor in another curtsey to cover my embarrassment at being aroused. I felt like that girl at the balcony in Burgundy once more, caught in her first flush of attraction.
He smiled at me and spoke. The whole court was looking at him; he was always the focus of attention and would have been even if he were not the King, I think. “You are recently come to my court from France, so your father and my wife tell me, Mistress Boleyn,” he said in a clear and strong voice, patting the arm of Katherine who sat beside him, smiling gently at me. She was dressed in a shade of surprisingly unbecoming purple, which made her skin look almost yellow. As a member of the royal wardrobe, I cared for Katherine’s gowns, but a servant can never tell their master if something looks unbecoming on them. Katherine so often chose to wear regal colours, as was her station, but they were more often than not unbecoming to her, in truth.
On the other side of the King, sat Charles; his robes were of cloth of gold and royal purple. He looked magnificent, but even the fine cloth he wore could not detract from the length of his chin. He always seemed to try and duck his head slightly, as though trying to cover the pointing chin which protruded before him. Although he was younger than Henry, he was no match for him in looks, nor in bearing. The court had much whispered with amusement on the fact that Charles ate like a hog at feasts; lifting his fine pewter or silver plate right to his face, and shovelling food into his mouth as though he were a starving peasant. There, too, was something cold about Charles, just as there was something warm to the energy of Henry. Strange, is it not, that two Kings, both with great power, can seem so very different in the flesh. The young Emperor nodded to me, in greeting, as I looked to the blue eyes of Henry, feeling my heart race within me.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I swept my gown to the floor in another curtsey, this time directed at the Queen. “Her Majesty the Queen has allowed me a placement in her household, for which I am most honoured, for she is the best of women, and the kindest of mistresses.”
The King smiled at Katherine and patted her hand once more. The Queen’s gentle smile rained down on me; she was pleased with the manner of my expression, as was her nephew, who looked at her with eyes sparkling with happiness to see her honoured.
He looked at my father and beckoned him forward, which my father did with a bow. “One might call this treason, Thomas,” King Henry declared with a deeply ominous tone that made my father look slightly panicked for a moment. “To keep such a beautiful English girl away from my court and give her to France instead!” Henry laughed, his face breaking from ominous darkness to light jesting in a moment. The court laughed with the King and my father looked relieved. Henry was obviously a changeable man. Even my father, who was so good at reading people, had been unsure that the King’s talk of treason was a jest when he first spoke it.
“We are glad to see you home, Mistress Boleyn,” Henry continued. “And home to stay I think, eh, Thomas?” The royal eye flashed a wink towards my father, which I presumed had something to do with the Butler match and the King’s present lack of enthusiasm for it.
“It pleases us to see you home, Mistress Boleyn,” Henry turned his smile on me. “I am happy to have such an ornament with which to grace my court. Your father tells me that you are a good musician, with a sweet voice, and this pleases me, as I love music and song. You will play for us, and for my nephew, this evening?”
I was already due to play for the court, and sing, and so I nodded to the King, and then added, “Of course, if Your Majesty wishes.” I smiled up at him. “But it must be on one condition.”
The King looked a little taken aback; he was not used to conditions, only obedience. My father, too, looked shocked, and his hand came out slightly, touching my arm, as
though to draw me back from the Henry’s presence before I could say aught else to shame our family. But I knew well enough that kings are men, like all others, and I curtseyed before him again. “No true knight would refuse the request of a lady.” My voice was sure, steady and lightly teasing, yet my face was all innocence and purity.
Henry laughed suddenly, gazing down on me with more interest even than before. “What is this condition of yours, Mistress Boleyn?” he asked. “For it is correct that as a true knight, I must listen to the requests of fair maidens when set before me.” His eyebrows were raised and there was a playful look of delight on his face; he loved to play the knight, as though he were King Arthur of old, and I were Guinevere.
“Then I request the condition that you, too, play this night for the court, sire,” I said. “I heard stories of your great talent at the Court of France, and I was honoured to play a song of your own composition, at the Field of the Cloth of Gold, when I served Queen Claude there. It would be a great pleasure to hear that of which I have heard so much, and yet have never experienced.”
With my teasing jests, I felt more in control of my emotions than when I had first come to stand before this king. And I felt more in control of him, in some ways. I had gambled with my bold talk, yet I felt as though my wager had been a safe one, for it seemed that I understood his mettle well. From the way he was smiling at me, I knew that there was no danger that my father would be displeased in me. That thought, along with Henry’s dancing bright eyes, made me feel even bolder. The King smiled and his blue eyes softened as he looked on me; there was something there between us, I could feel it. I felt as though I understood his boyish heart, and I knew that I had pleased him through flattery and mischief. It is not often that kings find surprise in the world any more; I think he found me refreshing.
