Philippa Gregory 3-Book Tudor Collection 1 (71 page)

It was a great romp in the end, far more fun than I had expected, much more of a play-fight than a dance. George flung rose petals at me and I drenched him with a shower of rosewater. The choristers were just little boys and they got over-excited and attacked the knights and were swung off their feet and spun around and dumped, dizzy and giggly, on the ground. When we ladies came out from the castle and danced with the mystery knights it was the tallest knight who came to dance with me, the king himself, and I, still breathless from my battle with George, and with rose petals in my headdress and my hair, and sugared fruit tumbling out of the folds of my gown, found that I was laughing and giving my hand to him, and dancing with him as if he were an ordinary man and I little more than a kitchen maid at a country romp.

When the signal for the unmasking should have come the king cried out: ‘Play on! Let's dance some more!' and instead of turning and taking another partner he led me out again, a country dance when we went hand to hand and I could see his eyes gleaming at me through the slits in his golden mask. Reckless and laughing, I smiled back up at him and let that sunny approbation sink into my skin.

‘I envy your husband when your dress comes off tonight, you will shower him with sweets,' he said in an undertone when the dance brought us side by side as we watched another couple in the centre of the ring.

I could not think of a witty reply, these were not the formal compliments of courtly love. The image of a husband being showered with sweets was too domestic, and too erotic.

‘Surely you should envy nothing,' I said. ‘Surely everything is all yours.'

‘Why would that be?' he asked.

‘Because you are king,' I started, forgetting that he was supposed to be
in impenetrable disguise. ‘King of Chateau Vert,' I recovered. ‘King for a day. It should be King Henry who envies you, for you have won a great siege in one afternoon.'

‘And what d'you think of King Henry?'

I looked up at him, my innocent look. ‘He is the greatest king that this country has ever known. It is an honour to be at his court and a privilege to be near him.'

‘Could you love him as a man?'

I looked down and blushed. ‘I would not dare to think of it. He has never so much as glanced towards me.'

‘Oh he has glanced,' the king said firmly. ‘You can be sure of that. And if he glanced more than once, Miss Kindness, would you be true to your name and be kind to him?'

‘Your …' I bit my lip and stopped myself saying: ‘Your Majesty'. I looked around for Anne; more than anything, I wanted her by my side and her wits at my service.

‘You are named Kindness,' he reminded me.

I smiled at him, peeping up through my golden mask. ‘I am,' I said. ‘And I suppose I should have to be kind.'

The musicians finished the dance and waited, poised for the king's orders. ‘Unmask!' he said and tore his own mask off his face. I saw the king of England, gave a wonderful little gasp and staggered.

‘She's fainting!' George cried out, it was beautifully done. I fell into the king's arms as Anne, fast as a snake, unpinned my mask, and – brilliantly – pulled off my headdress so that my golden hair tumbled down like a stream over the king's arm.

I opened my eyes, his face was very close. I could smell the perfume on his hair, his breath was on my cheek, I watched his lips, he was close enough to kiss me.

‘You have to be kind to me,' he reminded me.

‘You are the king …' I said incredulously.

‘And you have promised to be kind to me.'

‘I didn't know it was you, Your Majesty.'

He lifted me gently and carried me over to the window. He opened it himself and the cold air blew in. I tossed my head and let my hair ripple in the draught.

‘Did you faint for fright?' he asked, his voice very low.

I looked down at my hands. ‘For delight,' I whispered, as sweet as a virgin in confession.

He bent his head and kissed my hands and then rose to his feet. ‘And now we dine!' he called out.

I looked over to Anne. She was untying her mask and watching me with a long calculating look, the Boleyn look, the Howard look that says: what has happened here, and how may I turn it to my advantage? It was as if under her golden mask was another beautiful mask of skin, and only beneath that was the real woman. As I looked back at her she gave me a small secret smile.

The king gave his arm to the queen, she rose from her chair as gay as if she had been enjoying watching her husband flirt with me; but as he turned to lead her away she paused and her blue eyes looked long and hard at me, as if she were saying goodbye to a friend.

‘I hope you will soon recover from your faintness, Mistress Carey,' she said gently. ‘Perhaps you should go to your room.'

‘I think she is light-headed from lack of food,' George interposed quickly. ‘May I bring her in to dine?'

Anne stepped forward. ‘The king frightened her when he unmasked. No-one guessed for a moment that it was you, Your Majesty!'

The king laughed in delight, and the court laughed with him. Only the queen heard how the three of us had turned her order so that despite her declared wishes, I would be brought in to dine. She measured the strength of the three of us. I was no Bessie Blount, who was next to nobody; I was a Boleyn, and the Boleyns worked together.

‘Come and dine with us then, Mary,' she said. The words were inviting but there was no warmth in them at all.

We were to sit where we pleased, the knights of the Chateau Vert and the ladies, all mixed up informally at a round table. Cardinal Wolsey as the host sat opposite the king with the queen at the third point on the table and the rest of us scattered where we chose. George put me next to him and Anne summoned my husband to her side and diverted him, while the king, seated opposite me, stared at me and I, carefully, looked away. On Anne's right was Henry Percy of Northumberland, on George's other side was Jane Parker, watching me intently, as if she were trying to discover the trick of being a desirable girl.

I ate only a little, though there were pies and pasties and fine meats and game. I took a little salad, the queen's favourite dish, and drank wine and water. My father joined the table during the meal and sat beside my mother who whispered quickly in his ear and I saw his glance flick over me, like a horse-trader assessing the value of a filly. Whenever I looked up the king's eyes were on me, whenever I looked away I was conscious of his stare still on my face.

When we had finished, the cardinal suggested that we go to the hall and listen to some music. Anne was at my side and steered me down the stairs so that when the king arrived the two of us were seated on a bench against the wall. It was easy and natural for him to pause to ask me how I did now. Natural that Anne and I should stand as he came past us, and that he should sit on the vacant bench and invite me to sit beside him. Anne drifted away and chattered to Henry Percy, shielding the king and me from the court, most especially from the smiling gaze of Queen Katherine. My father went up to speak to her while the musicians played. It was all done with complete ease and comfort, and it meant that the king and I were all but concealed in a crowded room with music loud enough to drown our whispered conversation, and every member of the Boleyn family well placed to hide what was going on.

‘You are better now?' he asked me in an undertone.

‘Never better in all my life, sire.'

‘I am riding out tomorrow,' he said. ‘Would you care to come with me?'

‘If Her Majesty can spare me,' I said, determined not to risk the queen's displeasure.

‘I will ask the queen to release you for the morning. I shall tell her that you need the fresh air.'

I smiled. ‘What a fine physician you would make, Your Majesty. If you can make a diagnosis and provide the cure all in the space of a day.'

‘You must be an obedient patient and do whatever I advise,' he warned me.

‘I will.' I looked down at my fingers. I could feel his gaze on me. I was soaring, higher than I could have dreamed.

‘I may order you to bed for days at a time,' he said, his voice very low.

I snatched a quick look at his intense gaze on my face and felt myself blush and heard myself stammer into silence. The music abruptly stopped. ‘Do play again!' my mother said. Queen Katherine looked around for the king and saw him seated with me. ‘Shall we dance?' she asked.

It was a royal command. Anne and Henry Percy took their places in a set, the musicians started to play. I rose to my feet and Henry went to sit beside his wife and watch us. George was my partner.

‘Head up,' he snapped as he took my hand. ‘You look hangdog.'

‘She's watching me,' I whispered back.

‘Course she is. More to the point
he's
watching you. And most important of all, Father and Uncle Howard are watching you, and they expect you to carry yourself as a young woman on the rise. Up you go, Mistress Carey, and all of us go up with you.'

I raised my head at that and I smiled at my brother as if I were carefree. I danced as gracefully as I could, I dipped and turned and twirled under his careful hand. And when I looked up at the king and the queen they were both watching me.

They held a family conference at my uncle Howard's great house in London. We met in his library where the dark bound books muffled the noise from the streets. Two men in our Howard livery were stationed outside the door to prevent any interruptions, and to ensure that no-one stopped and eavesdropped. We were to discuss family business, family secrets. No-one but a Howard could come near.

I was the very cause and subject of the meeting. I was the hub around which these events would turn. I was the Boleyn pawn that must be played to advantage. Everything was concentrated on me. I felt my very wrists throb with a sense of my own importance, and a contradictory flutter of anxiety that I would fail them.

‘Is she fertile?' Uncle Howard asked my mother.

‘Her courses are regular enough and she's a healthy girl.'

My uncle nodded. ‘If the king has her, and she conceives his bastard, then we have much to play for.' I noticed with a sort of terrified concentration that the fur on the hem of his sleeves brushed against the wood of the table, the richness of his coat took on a lustre from the light of the flames of the fire behind him. ‘She can't sleep in Carey's bed any more. The marriage has to be put aside while the king favours her.'

I gave a little gasp. I could not think who would say such a thing to my husband. And besides, we had sworn that we would stay together, that marriage was for the making of children, that God had put us together and no man could put us apart.

‘I don't …' I started.

Anne tweaked at my gown. ‘Hush,' she hissed. The seed pearls on her French hood winked at me like bright-eyed conspirators.

‘I'll speak to Carey,' my father said.

George took my hand. ‘If you conceive a child the king has to know that it is his and none other's.'

‘I can't be his mistress,' I whispered back.

‘No choice.' He shook his head.

‘I can't do it,' I said out loud. I gripped tightly on my brother's comforting clasp and looked down the long dark wood table to my uncle, as sharp as a falcon with black eyes that missed nothing. ‘Sir, I am sorry, but I love the queen. She's a great lady and I can't betray her. I promised
before God to cleave only to my husband, and surely I shouldn't betray him? I know the king is the king; but you can't want me to? Surely? Sir, I can't do it.'

He did not answer me. Such was his power that he did not even consider replying. ‘What am I supposed to do with this delicate conscience?' he asked the air above the table.

‘Leave it to me,' Anne said simply. ‘I can explain things to Mary.'

‘You're a little young for the task of tutor.'

She met his look with her quiet confidence. ‘I was reared in the most fashionable court in the world,' she said. ‘And I was not idle. I watched everything. I learned all there was to see. I know what is needed here, and I can teach Mary how to behave.'