Above All Others

by G Lawrence

  We rode out at dawn each day and spent the daylight hours in the woods hunting and talking together. We spent evenings either in the hall with his small band of friends, dancing and playing cards, or in his private chambers, supping on tasty treats and talking of architecture, literature and works of art that we had seen and loved. In all tastes we seemed to agree, and with every shared interest found, we became more certain that we were meant for each other, made for each other.

  As we hunted and as we walked together, Henry would take opportunities to touch and caress me. On horseback he would put me in front of him and as he adjusted me to suit his frame, his thumb would gently, as though by accident, caress my breast and nipple, making that soft skin hard by his touch. To be touched so, so intimate and yet so freely, made me shiver with a kind of pleasure I did not fully understand. It frustrated me, too, for I knew he was teasing me.

  When I sat in front of him, I would often feel him hard behind me, and, in retaliation for his teasing, I would shuffle mischievously against him making him sharply draw in breath and pull me closer. In the evenings, when my mother left to go to bed, he would kiss me, drawing my body into his lap where he could run his hands over my breasts and my face. We danced together each night, our bodies slipping close to each other and then prancing away. It was as though those dances showed our present relationship… wanting, touching, coming so close to each other, and then having to draw back. It was as exciting as it was infuriating.

  There was desire in every touch that we gave each other, and at times it was difficult to bear. But in every touch I allowed, and all those I did not, I heard the warning words of my sister in my head. Touch and look and graze of flesh were all there could be between us… for now. There must be no more; there must be some prize left for him to strive for. I would not be cast aside, as he had done with my sister and so many others. No… no matter what the temptation to give in, I must remain a virgin until our marriage was assured. But Henry did not seek to take more from me than I was willing to offer. Our embraces, our kisses… the stroking weight of his hand upon my skin… they went no further than that. Henry wanted me, of that I had no doubt, but I was also assured, perhaps more so than ever before, that he wanted me as his wife before he would bed me.

  Whilst we were at Beaulieu, Henry held an entertainment to which he invited most of my family, including my uncle Norfolk and his wife Elizabeth. Since so many of my family were to be there, Henry hoped it would not appear as though I had been with him at Beaulieu all along. Suffolk and his Duchess, Mary Tudor, were also present, as were a select group of other guests, all nobles of court. My dear friends Margaret and Bridget came, happy to be reunited with me again, but Tom Wyatt was not present. The Queen, too, was absent, nor was my sister invited. Henry seemed to find Mary’s presence embarrassing now, and he did not want her close.

  Henry presented me with a new gown for the event, made of rich, black velvet, with huge over-sleeves of russet fur, and a stunning black French hood with two lines of pearls cascading over its rim. It was beautiful. The furs were soft and warm over my arms, and the ends of the sleeves had been made in the style that I had made famous at court. At the same time, Henry gave me a long chain of golden links, which could be doubled up to wear about the throat, and a tablet inset with an enamel cross. There were ear-rings made of pearls that looked like droplets of milk, and rings of gold with which to adorn my hands. He chuckled like a happy lad on a bright spring day when I thanked him, and insisted on seeing the gown upon me immediately. When I came to him, he took my hands and ran his eyes up and down me, pausing and lingering on certain parts of my body.

  “There was never a beauty to match you, my dark-haired love,” he murmured, drawing me to him and kissing my lips.

  At the Beaulieu gathering, despite his words advising caution in front of others, Henry could not keep his hands from me. He could not help himself. We danced together, and at the feast he insisted I sit beside him in the place his Queen would have taken had she been there. Throughout the feast, he stroked and pampered me, feeding me titbits and stroking my hand. Henry felt safe enough, with the select group of courtiers he had invited, to show his love for me more publicly than he had ever done before. He was seeking to find out whom he could rely on for support, when the time came to announce our love. There was another gift; a beautiful emerald set in a ring of gold, to add to my growing collection of jewels… Henry presented me with this before all of the guests. I was flushed and pleased, for it was as though I were already Queen that night; as though this were my court.

  He told me quietly I could consider it an engagement ring. “Since the one I first gave you at Hever hardly fits,” he said with a smirk.

  As I took the ring and thanked Henry, slipping it upon my delicate finger, I saw his sister Mary, regarding me with disgust. She ate her meal delicately and it was delicious fare, so I knew that the twist of distaste on her lips was naught to do with the food. She did not like the idea that I was the King’s mistress, and had stopped speaking to me socially when she was able to. Mary of Suffolk loved her sister-in-law Katherine, and was greatly attached to her. She saw me as a whore, and, with the evidence of the ring, as a money-grabbing jade… She liked not her brother’s outward affection for me. The place of a King’s mistress in England was to be demure and quiet, a sultry shadow on the edge of court, and yet here we were flaunting our love for one another in public. She scowled at me, obviously thinking I had overstepped the bounds of my position. Every attention her brother paid to me she saw as an insult to her friend Katherine.

  I wondered if it was a mistake for Henry to have invited his sister, for I was sure Katherine would hear of this through Mary… But it would have been hard to invite Suffolk and not his wife, and the Duke of Suffolk was another matter. Suffolk was watching me with speculative care. He was to be a part of the circle of support that my uncle Norfolk was carefully constructing for our cause. Suffolk was well-beloved of Henry and if we Howards and Boleyns could capture him for our side then we would be more powerful at court than we had ever been before.

  I smiled at Suffolk, and lifted my glass goblet to him. Fine malmsey wine shone blood-red in the King’s expensive Venetian glass, twinkling in the candle-light. Suffolk responded and drank to my health, much to his wife’s disgust, but the Duke earned a joyous smile from Henry for honouring me in public. Henry was happy to see that his oldest friend and I could get along so well, and he ignored his sister’s obvious displeasure.

  When the feast was done and after I had engaged in some dancing, my brother’s wife, Jane, appeared next to me. “Sister,” she greeted me warmly. “It seems that you are in high favour! I hear much of you and the King from my husband, and I am pleased for you.”

  “Thank you, sister… although you know there is much that may not be spoken of such things, in such company as this.”

  Jane’s smile was as wicked as it was pretty. “But of course, sister.” She put a finger to her lips, her golden rings sparkling in the candle-light. “Your secrets are safe with me.”

  I did not doubt Jane had talent at concealing secrets. She took delight in them, which made her an able and formidable courtier. I had grown to like Jane more as I grew to know her better, but I still always had the sense there was something unknown under what she allowed me to see. Perhaps it is only natural, for she was raised in the court, I thought. She is like a female version of father… Like a veil which when lifted reveals only another veil...

  Jane handed me a goblet of sweet, chilled white wine. I drank deeply for I had danced with vigour and Henry was an able and energetic partner. I was giddy and not just from the wine coursing in my blood, but from Henry’s adoring attentions before all of these people. Soon all will know that I am the object of the King’s affections, I thought, smiling at Jane a little unsteadily. I and no other. I was flighty with wine and pride and love. God forgive me my arrogance… I was young and silly then.

  “It seems to me,” Jane continued sm
oothly, “that at this time, all our family should be together as one.” She ran a hand over her russet gown. The scarlet of her sleeve reflected across golden candlesticks and the gilding on the chairs, making them flash red; like blood and gold mingled into one. “You know, sister, I have long been at court… I grew up here, almost.”

  She gazed at me steadily, her stunning green eyes glowing. “George would have me stay in the country,” she continued in a mocking tone, “so I might tend to all the children we do not have….” Her tone was bitter. Acid. Jane trailed off and sipped from her goblet, her lips thin against its pewter rim. Despite her beauty, this expression made her ugly to my eyes.

  She turned her face to me again and her smile was sour. I could not return it. Jane and George had been married a long time now, and there was still no sign of an heir. Jane may appear to try to make light of it, but her jests were belied by her expression. There was deep sorrow there, hiding under her courtly mask. I wondered why they had no children. Was Jane barren, or was George simply not spending enough time with his wife?

  “But I feel I could be of better use to you and the family if I were at court…” Jane continued. “I have been a good supporter of my sister thus far, have I not? And, as I said, I know the court, and how it works, very well. You have many supporters now, and their numbers will grow, but how will you know who is true to you and who is not? I could help you with that. I have ever had a talent for discovering secrets, and you know that you can depend on a sister’s loyalty.”

  I agreed, hearing sense in her words, even though I disliked her sly tone. “Perhaps it would be as well that you did join the family when we return to court,” I murmured. “I need those around me that I can trust, as you say. There can be no office for you in the country. I will speak to George. I cannot think why he wants you there instead of court.”

  She gazed at me with glee. Her black pupils, dark and glorious against the emerald of her eyes, met my own gaze. “I shall look forward to returning, sister.” She curtseyed, and wandered off through the milling crowds. I sighed. Whatever reason George had for keeping his wife from court, I had just interfered with it. This was unlikely to make my brother happy. I guessed that he had a new mistress, and wanted Jane to remain unaware of her identity. He had mentioned before that she had reproached him indignantly for his infidelity. But Jane was right; I needed friends and allies… George would just have to take more care with his adventures, or consider spending his time with his wife rather than bedding other women.

  I watched Jane return to George and firmly take his arm. He smiled at her with an absent expression and continued his conversation with Suffolk. I looked on with unhappy eyes. Jane watched George with rapt attention, while he seemed almost unaware she was there at all. There was as much pain in her green eyes as there was love. She adored him, of that I was sure. Who would not love my brother? He was affable, witty, strong and learned. He was also handsome, virile and well-built. He wrote poetry and songs, jousted like a true knight and could converse on many interesting topics. He was a woman’s dream… and more often than not, he set out to make their dreams of him come true…

  This was what pained my sister-in-law. George was a man of the court, a man of the world. He was not about to be faithful to Jane, no matter her love for him. With every dalliance her sorrow deepened. Yet she clung to the hope that he would one day love her as she loved him. It was awful to look on. Unrequited love is painful to watch, and even worse to experience.

  I breathed in and exhaled through my nose, feeling intense, writhing pity for Jane. She could chase and chase, and never catch him. George wanted to be the hunter, not the hunted. It was not her looks that put him off her, but the very love she held for him. He found her cloying and distasteful in her desperation for his affections.

  Soon enough I would have to explain to my brother why I had ruined his chances for secrecy with his latest mistress. I was sure Jane would inform him of my interference with some relish. No matter how warm her words to me, she did not like the place I held in George’s heart. She did not, in truth, like that he should show affection to any but her… but then, perhaps she was right to be jealous of the care he showed to others, for he showed little enough to her. That thought made me cold for a moment. Would that happen to me, when I married Henry? Would he find me less interesting because I belonged to him and he could do as he wanted with me by law? I shook the thought from my mind… of course not! It was not the same situation and we were not the same people. Whatever problems of compatibility Jane and George had, Henry and I clearly would not have the same.

  I watched them until I felt a pressure on my arm. I went to turn around, but a great hand closed over my eyes. I gasped in shock, but I knew who it was. A breath escaped my lips. I heard a soft rumble of laughter and felt boyish happiness radiate from my Henry as he took hold of me. “Come, lady,” Henry whispered. “This bandit would steal you away.”

  I giggled at his game. “I would ask only that you take care of my honour as a lady, sir.” My body melted backwards into his arms as his lips grazed my throat.

  “Your honour will be safe with me, my lady,” he said gruffly.

  I allowed myself to be stolen out into the courtyard and led into a garden. The sounds of the dance were behind us and the servants were far off. I shivered in the sudden cold. “What brigand are you, sir, to kidnap a lady and bring her to the cold without hope for warmth?”

  Henry chuckled, placing his lips on my cheek. For a moment he did not allow me to see, and kept one hand over my eyes as he kissed me. I could hear from the quickness of his breath that he found this exciting. It was a foreign sensation for me too. My heart quickened and my breath escaped in short gasps to be kissed so… to know not what was about to happen. It was exciting… too exciting.

  “My lord,” I whispered, “I beg of you to release me…”

  My eyes were uncovered even as a cloak fell about my shoulders and two hot hands grabbed my waist. “I’ll warm you, my lady.” Henry pulled my body into his embrace.

  I felt his hard, muscular strength against me and wrapped myself eagerly to his touch. His mouth tasted of wine, sweet and rich. Flickers of excitement coursed through me as he pushed me softly but insistently up against a garden wall. The wine in my blood and the thrill of this stolen moment made me reckless. His hands moved down my body, to my thighs, where he grasped at them through the thick folds of my gown, and moved himself between them. He rocked gently forward, pressing himself into me. Each movement caused parts of me to tingle. But he did not seek to do more; my skirts and his clothes remained as a barrier between us as we moved against each other. The weight of our bodies gently crushed the delicate wild honeysuckle flowers that lay between my back and the cool stone wall. As we moved, as we kissed, the heady scent of the flowers was released into the night air. Eventually, from behind a fog of longing, I heard him groan. He became still and leant his head on my shoulder, loosening his embrace. I drew a shaky breath, dizzied from the wine I had drunk and the passion I had felt. I kissed his cheek gently and he shuddered with the pain of self-control as he moved his body from mine.

  “This waiting… it is excruciating …” He smiled ruefully, his blue eyes dancing in the moonlight, his handsome face bathed in the light of the burning torches about the palace walls. “But wait we shall. I shall have you on the night we marry and by God, Anne, what a night that will be!”

  He kissed me. It was supposed to be a kiss of release, I believe, but all it did was to re-kindle the fire between us. We threw ourselves together again. He pushed himself against me again, lifting one of my legs so that it was hooked about his waist. Sweet Christ in Heaven! What temptation was mine then! But again Henry stopped. He stepped back, his chest rising and falling with rapid speed. One hand lingered on me, as though its owner was not in command of it. His finger traced a line from my lips, down my throat, between and over the curves of my breasts. He watched its slow progress with hungry eyes.

  He g
azed down at me. My eyes were glassy, dazed with the sensations he had roused in me. I was glad that he had stopped, for I was not sure I had the strength to do so. He looked on my face with satisfaction, liking well the effect he had had on me, and then took his hand from my body. He breathed in deeply. “Come, Anne,” he said. “Let us walk around the gardens a little, that I might walk off this lust that drives me to kidnap an honourable lady.” He smiled. “Calm my thoughts with your presence, my love… as you always do.”

  We walked the paths, talking quietly. We remarked on the fine moonlight, silver-grey, dappled on the still surface of the ponds. We watched the starlight dance over the beautiful knot gardens, catching flowers hidden in the darkness and radiating them with hoary brilliance. Jasmine flowers sent their night-blooming scents to mingle with the honeysuckle on the cool air. We walked and talked together as friends. Desire for Henry burnt in my body like fire, but we assured each other it would not be long now until we could be together.

  Chapter Seven

  Greenwich Palace

  Summer’s End 1527

  I returned to the court a week later with my mother and re-entered the service of Katherine; the woman I now saw as the obstacle in the way of all my hopes and dreams. Once Katherine stepped aside, I could take her place as Henry’s wife and queen. I hoped that time would be soon. Surely, such a wise princess would see the truth in the arguments against her marriage and bow out with grace? It was not the first time that such an event had happened, after all. It cannot not be long, I told myself.