Dear Heart, How Like You This

by Wendy J. Dunn

  Anne frowned, gazing out the window. “You must admit the King has waited a long time for the day to come…”she chewed her bottom lip. “All his women have been easy conquests for him—like my sister Mary.” Anna gazed aside at me. “Have you seen my sister?”

  I pressed my knuckle against my mouth and shook my head. “Only from a distance. I have looked out for her, but she seems to have disappeared since the morning of your arrival.”

  Heaving a sigh, Anna gazed down, thoughtfully bringing her fingertips together, over and over. A few nails showed evidence of being gnawed. She glanced up at me. “I am starting to wish I never asked, nay begged, Mary to come to Calais with me. She’s found herself a new lover and spends almost every moment in his chamber.” Anna shrugged. “She does not seem to care how embarrassing this is to me. I am disappointed in her, Tom.”

  “Mayhap she does not realise this?”

  Bending down to stroke her dog, Anna shrugged again. “She knows and does not care. ’Tis like my sister and I speak a different language—I do not understand her and she does not understand me. Thank God, time has only served to strengthen the bond between George and me.” She smiled at me. “And as for our bond, Tom, I also thank God for that.”

  Anna shared with me recent news of George, who was with the Duke of Norfolk at the court of the Pope on a mission for the King regarding “His Great Matter.” George’s marriage continued to go from bad to worse. Still there was no sign of an heir, nor did Jane ever show any hint of being with child. Other events had consoled George somewhat; his mistress had recently given him a very welcomed son, even if born on the wrong side of the blanket.

  After conversing long about this and other homely things held close to our hearts, Anna looked to me and said: “Tom, I need to ask a boon of you.”

  I glanced at her, lifting an eyebrow. So surprised was I that a rising star such as Anne, Marquess of Pembroke, could ask an ordinary court official such as me for a favour.

  “Aye, Anna?”

  She smiled. “This is something I wouldn’t ask just anyone—but I know you would do it so well.”

  “You have made me curious—what’s this something I would do well?”

  “Help me entertain the French King when he arrives at Calais.”

  “Entertain King François? Whatever do you mean, Anna?”

  But even as I asked the question, I didn’t doubt for one moment that she already had a firm idea on what she wanted.

  “I had in mind to arrange a revel based on the hunt of the white hind. It would do me a great service if you could think hard on it, so to compose one of your beautiful sonnets for this performance.”

  I laughed, bowing to her.

  “How can I refuse, Anna, when you but honour me? I will attempt to do my best to compose something suitable.”

  Alas, too soon we realised that it was time to part. Indeed, the darkening of the skies outside the chamber’s window told us that it would be soon time to prepare for the evening revel. Thus, I kissed her hand again and took my leave.

  Sometimes, it seems to me, even with the best intentions, a poet cannot prevent his hand from writing other that what he planned. That is what happened as I tried to write the sonnet Anne had asked of me. What appeared on the paper had suddenly materialised from deep inside of me, something deeply personal, something that I doubted I would enjoy sharing with one and all:

  Who so list to hunt, I know where is an hind,

  But as for me, helas, I may no more:

  The vayne travail hath wearied me sore.

  I am of them that farthest commeth behind;

  Yet may I by no means my wearied mind

  Draw from the deer, but as she fleeth afore,

  Fainting I follow. I leve of therefore,

  Sins in a net I seek to hold the wind.

  Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt,

  As well as I may spend his time in vain:

  And, graven with Diamonds, in letters plain

  There is written her fairer neck round about:

  Noli me tangere, for Caesar’s I am;

  And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.

  “Yea, touch me not,” Anna had said to me long ago, “for I belong to the King.” Aye—to the King! Nay. I could not give this sonnet to Anna. Carefully I folded it, over and over again, and put it into the box where I keep all my songs for my dark Lady

  The kings of France and England arrived in Calais on the twenty-fifth of October. Anne remained within the castle walls while the English welcomed François in grand style. Nevertheless, François sent to Anne a costly present, a large diamond rumoured to have a value of more than three thousand pounds.

  While Henry Tudor was busy welcoming his brother king into his domain, Anne oversaw the preparations for the royal banquet fixed for the Sunday evening, and putting the final touches to the entertainments prepared for the French King. In the castle had been readied a great room, decorated with cloth of silver and many gold garlands of precious gems hanging upon the walls. The tableware was to be gold plate, and the feast prepared was a mixture of popular French and English dishes favoured by both kings.

  However, Anna was not with us when we ate what we could of this seemingly endless array of food. ’Twas not until after we had finished eating the final course that Anne and her ladies—one of them her sister Mary—emerged from her rooms, all of them masked. Gold and silver seemed to be the colours for this night’s work, for Anne and her six attendants were fantastically apparelled in loose overdresses of gold and silver cloth. I applauded loud with the court as they arrived on the dance floor.

  Each lady chose a French nobleman to begin the evening’s dance with. François was himself escorted out onto the dance floor by Anne, and there they danced several dances. At least three of the dances were arranged to music composed by a well-known royal hand.

  King Henry, I could not help but notice, was puffed up with pride, as he watched his future bride dance with such utter grace and charm, making such a lovely picture as she partnered the French King. At last, Henry could hold himself back no longer. He went amongst the lady dancers and removed their masks, so the fair beauty of these ladies could astonish the French King and his court.

  Anne, now unmasked and laughing, escorted the French King away from the floor where the dancing still continued. I watched them for many minutes as they spoke together, alone in a tiny alcove, and found myself wishing that I could hear what was said. But I could see that the French King took pleasure in her company. One time his laughter made all eyes turn towards them.

  “Prithee tell, coz, do you think like I—that my sister has more in common with kings than us poor mortals denied access to Olympia? Hear me, Tom! How well I remember our childhood tutor’s tales!”

  I spun around to face the person by my side.

  “Mary!”

  We embraced, but Mary broke away, looking towards the alcove where her sister still spoke to the French King.

  “Better not be seen overlong with me in your arms, Tom. You may do yourself a great disservice. I hear tell from my friends that the French King calls me the ‘greatest whore in Christendom.’ I care not. He may have been my first lover, but he won’t be my last. I am no longer a young damsel; my marriage and late widowhood take me far enough away from my father’s dominion to now bed men of my own choice and desire. In truth, Tom, I have discovered a widow has more choice to live life the way they want, being no longer a wife or maid restricted by family. And I no longer believe that honey drips from the mouths of princes.”

  I looked towards the alcove.

  “I wish Anna would not believe…”

  “Aye. I know. But I admit Harry seems far more smitten than when he took me to his bed. My sister tells me she has not yet had the joy of the King’s lovemaking. May I wish her more pleasure in his bed than what I gained as the King’s mistress. Tom, I best go. If I linger much longer in your company, I will say things I would rather not. And I know you wo
uld rather not hear them. I bid you goodnight, Tom.”

  I took her hand.

  “Fare ye well, Mary. I am glad we met this night,” I said.

  “I am glad of it too! But if you wish to meet with me again, Tom, do not look for me in Anne’s company. I have decided it best that I stay away from court. Its heat has burnt me more than once; ’tis not to my liking to place myself in danger of more hurt. By my troth, Tom, I am but a simple woman—happiest when with my children and friends. I do not need all this,”—Mary waved her hand towards the dancing courtiers—“but it seems my sister does. Fare well, Tom.”

  After kissing me, Mary went towards the door taking her back to the private chambers of the castle guests. Thinking, I watched her. Mary’s loose gold and silver gown shimmered and glittered bright in candlelight, but dulled as she moved deeper into the shadows. I felt I gazed at some beauteous moth, which knew not to dance too close to the flame. That was the last I saw of Mary in Calais.

  Soon, it became time for the French King to return to his kingdom. King Henry went with many of his courtiers to bid farewell at the border that divided French territory from English. Once the farewells had been done, matters were put under way to get us back to England.

  I too decided to return to England. More and more during the past year I had grown homesick for what I had left behind in Kent. I had been away from home far too long. There lived a young lad at Allington who was growing fast into a stranger, a boy who had been too long without a father, as too had been little Bess. Also, being with Anne—even but briefly—had made me realise how much I had truly missed her. And how truly empty I had been without those short moments in her company.

  So, I gained permission from the King to resign from my duties at Calais, and return with the court to England. Thus, we all boarded the English galleons and sailed for home. And, what a crossing that was! Within hours of leaving port, a violent storm blew up, seemingly from nowhere. I had chosen to travel on one of the first galleons to leave for Dover. ’Twas very providential for us that our galleon only received the tail-end of the storm, but I saw from the deck of my craft that many of the other vessels were forced back to take shelter again at Calais.

  Amongst those ships was the one carrying the King and Anne.

  CONTENTS

  * * *

  Chapter 2

  “How like you this?”

  Early in the year of 1533, I returned for a brief visit to Calais to tie up my affairs unravelled by the sudden decision to depart for England. I had made many good friends while abroad; I wished to see them, and I abided with them when I received a messenger carrying a sealed message from my cousin George. When I opened the letter I found, to my amazement, that George had written to inform me that Anne had secretly married the King on the twenty-fifth of January. George’s messenger went on to tell me that his master had attended the early morning wedding, as did the bride’s parents. How Uncle Boleyn must have felt! Father-in-law to the King no less.

  I came home again at the beginning of February. My father was gravely ill and had sent a servant to me to request my presence at home. I arrived at Allington to find my father out of immediate danger, but still very sick and weak.

  I spent as much time as I could in his bedchamber, keeping him company, and often he would talk to me regarding what had been happening at court. Of course, being in Calais for much of the last five years, I was not ill informed, especially since both George and my father had been in contact with me throughout that time with their constant letters.

  However, there was a lot of information one hesitated to commit to paper, fearing that the information could land in hands other than for whom it was intended. Thus, being face to face with my father for long periods gave him the opportunity to impart all that he feared to communicate through his letters. My father, as a member of the Privy Council, had a perspective on these events that went deeper than the norm.

  Since the King’s marriage to Anne, great moves were now afoot to ensure its legality. Our King now attempted to remove England from the absolute power of the papacy. Furthermore, Parliament had brought into force a new statute that declared that England had the right to decide its own laws, and therefore had the right to solve for itself the kind of problems now confronting it. It was even concluded by Parliament that England would no longer recognise any other higher earthly power but that found in its own dominions.

  At the end of February I felt assured that my father was recovered enough to be left, for a short time, in the care of his trusted servants. I greatly desired the occasion to visit my cousins, and see for myself how Anna and George were faring in their new status at court. Anne and the King were at this time staying at Greenwich palace, which Anne now regarded as her home. It was a cold time for travelling, but I arrived at Greenwich within a day of leaving Allington. As I got off my horse a man grabbed me from behind. I turned, putting my hand quick upon my sword, only to find myself facing George. He had grown a beard since last we met, but his eyes were still as brightly blue as ever.

  “George!” I said, embracing him hard for a short moment before releasing him to look at him more closely. We had grown to be men of similar height and build. Indeed, if it was not for the fact that George was so fair and I of a darker hue, I believe others could easily take us for brothers.

  George gripped my arms.

  “Tom! ’Tis so good to see you, coz! You should have sent word to the court that you were coming. Anne and I would have laid out the red carpet for you ourselves.”

  I laughed, and embraced him again.

  “No need for the red carpet, coz. Your presence is all the welcome I desire. But, I did not know if I would be able to come, George. My father’s sickness has been swinging, backward and forth like a pendulum. One moment better and the next worse again. But he has been improving for the last two weeks, so here I am!”

  “Glad I am to hear your father improves. He is too good a man for the court to lose.

  “What am I thinking of, cousin? Here we are standing out in this freezing weather when we could be inside talking and drinking hot mead.”

  With that, George quickly summoned a groom to attend to my horse, first taking off my saddlebags to pass them on to me, and then escorting me inside. Soon he took me into rooms that were obviously his chambers, for I could see his cherished lute leaning against the wall, near the chamber’s large window.

  “Gil,” George called, to be answered by a young lad of about twelve rushing in from the connecting room.

  The lad gave a quick, curious glance to me and then bowed at George saying: “Aye, my Lord?”

  “We need warm drinks and food, my lad. Do you think you can arrange that for us?”

  “Of course, my Lord.”

  “Good boy. And when you have done that I want you to prepare a bed in my chamber for my cousin, Squire Wyatt, to sleep in while he is here at Greenwich.”

  “Aye, my Lord.” With those words the boy bowed and departed out the door we had just entered.

  “Put your gear down anywhere, Tom.” George gestured with his hand around his large chamber. “And sit yourself down. We have so much to talk about that we better be assured of some comfort.”

  I did as he told me, finding two stools near a roaring fire. There I sat, and waited for George to follow and be likewise seated before beginning to speak.

  “Thank you, George. I am very happy that you wish to share your chambers with me. It brings back so many happy memories of when we were boys. But, I hope my presence in your rooms will not cause trouble with your wife.”

  George barked out a sort of laugh and shook his head.

  “You know—or should know, Tom—how it is between Jane and me. I would be amused, if it was issue for amusement, that we both lacked any fortune in the marriage stakes. We have shared so much from boyhood, but, do not take what I say wrongly, Tom; that is one thing I would have wished not to have shared with you… Jane stays in her chambers and I in mine. In sooth, To
m, we see each other only when it is unavoidable. So, you being here in my rooms presents no complication.”

  I looked at George, and reached over to grip his hand.

  “To declare that I am sorry about you and Jane goes without saying, George.”

  “And I likewise about your marriage,” George replied, squeezing my hand quickly before releasing it. “But at least you got a son and heir out of Elizabeth before she turned slut behind your back…”

  “Forgive me for asking, coz…” I glanced worryingly at George, being unsure how he would take this question. However, I had often wondered as to the reasons behind the failure of his marriage. “But, George, is Jane… well, does Jane… Cousin, you must know what I am trying to ask. Does she do as the mother of my son did often, and does still, so I believe?”

  George looked at me and raised an eyebrow.

  “Tom, do you think I would still be with her if she dared turn whore? Barren I can forgive, especially as I am as much the cause as she, not having any liking for her bed—but catch her with another man and I would get rid of her as quick you would say Jack be Nimble, Jack be quick—at least a great deal more quickly than the King replaced his Queen.”

  “Let us change the subject, George. I am sure you are like me: there are other topics I’d rather speak of than waste my breath about marriages that are not marriages. In any case, I never wrote to thank you for your message at the beginning of this year. Even though, I must admit, it came as such a shock to hear that Anne and the King were at last wed. Tell me, cousin, what came to pass to make for such a move?”

  George gazed at me with surprise.

  “Cannot you guess?”

  “You know I have never been good at guessing games, George. Tell me the answer to the riddle, George, or I may be tempted to wrestle it out of you.”