At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn (24 page)

“What gown, Your Grace?” said Madge as she placed the queen’s undergarments on the bed.

“What think you, Margaret? Which will hold most allure for the king?” said the queen.

“I have always loved the crimson gown—it goes well with your eyes and your hair,” said Madge, holding the gown up for Her Majesty to see.

“Well enough! Now, help me out of here, lady,” said the queen.

Madge heard the heralds announce the return of the king’s hunting party and felt her heart skip as she thought of him lumbering up to his rooms to change for the evening meal. He would know, of course, the queen had arrived. But would he come to her door? Or would he wait for her to be announced at supper? Suddenly, Madge felt frightened. What if His Majesty were angry about the queen’s unexpected presence? What if he turned ever more to Mistress Seymour?

*   *   *

The queen had arranged to enter the Great Hall without fanfare or announcement. Instead, she wished to sit before the king as a lady-in-waiting would. She intended to sing and play for him while he ate.

“God save the king!” rang the heralds as Henry entered the hall. He was larger than Madge remembered, bigger than life. His ruddy cheeks and pale blue eyes squinted around the room. When they lit on his queen standing with the other ladies, a tiny smile played about his smallish mouth. He sat at the center of the head table and indicated the food was to be served. Dozens of men and women brought platters and bowls of steaming food and the sounds of the feast clattered and clanged through the hall.

Without a word, the queen moved to a small stool set before the king and began to play her lute, a gentle tune. The room grew quiet and as it did so, the queen began to sing. Her voice was always lovely, Madge had thought. But this night, it seemed she sang with the skill of a nightingale. She sang of a poor maid’s love for a most noble knight who was high above her station. The maiden gave herself to this noble knight and had a child by him. Though he was pledged to another, he broke this arrangement, much to the dismay of his people, and married the lovely maid, who gave him many sons. At the end of the music, the king had tears in his eyes. Anne arose and stood before him at the table. She curtsied as deeply as possible and said in a strong voice, for all to hear, “Most beloved husband, I have come to you because I could not bear to be apart from Your Grace a moment longer. Though we have had a time of great sadness, such grief is now behind us. I am again ready, like the moon around the earth, to encircle you with my love.”

Madge watched the king carefully. He wiped the water from his cheeks and rose. He held out his hand to Anne and told her to come to him. Great Harry embraced his still-beautiful wife, kissing her long and on the lips, for all to see. Madge stole a glance at Jane Seymour. Her usually pale cheeks burned and those dull eyes cut away from the intimate scene to stare at the food in front of her. Madge caught Arthur’s eye and they exchanged a victorious look.

The rest of the evening, the king had eyes for no one but his queen and she for him. She danced with him and for him, sang more, played more, laughed more, and charmed more than she had in some time. It was easy to see how Great Harry had fallen in love with such a woman, Madge thought. She truly was a queen among queens.

Later that night, as Madge prepared for bed, she heard a knock on her door.

“Cate, dear Cate! I am glad you found me—I spied you not when we supped,” said Madge as she hugged her servant and drew her into the room.

“I am glad you and the queen are come! There is much I have to tell you,” said Cate.

“Then sit, dear friend, sit on this stool and tell me all,” said Madge, her loose shift slipping off one shoulder. Her hair caught the light from the fire and she rubbed her arms for warmth.

“Winter comes soon, methinks,” said Cate as she sat down on the stool beside Madge’s pallet. She was glad the rushes were fresh and that Madge had been given a small, private room next to the queen’s.

“Yes, yes. What news?” said Madge.

“The king loves another! The news runs all around Wulfhall. They say she is a beauty—young and lithe with golden hair and rounded bosoms—much like Bessie Blount,” whispered Cate.

“Have you seen this inamorata?” said Madge.

“What’s that?” said Cate.

“The new love—have you seen her? Do you know her name?” said Madge.

“No, ’tis a mystery. Yet, that is the news I have heard,” said Cate, sipping a mug of ale Madge handed her.

“What about Lady Jane Seymour? What of her and His Majesty?” said Madge.

“Pshaw! They have danced a little—only because ’tis her father’s house and His Majesty is a gracious guest. Lady Jane has little to catch the king’s eye, I fear. Poor girl, she’ll be too old to marry off if Sir Seymour doesn’t make a match for her soon,” said Cate. “And such a match will be hard to secure if any young man gets a proper look at her.”

“I heard His Majesty loved her not a little,” said Madge.

“Nonsense! How could he be fond of such as she when he has been married to the proud Queen Catherine of Spain! Even Queen Anne is beautiful and witty, though I will never approve of her or her haughty ways,” said Cate.

“She is not haughty, Cate. She is vexed at the king’s unfaithfulness and her heart is broken over losing her son. She has much weighing on her thin shoulders,” said Madge.

“That I’ll warrant. Great Henry is a hard man to hold. Better than she have tried,” said Cate. “Now, I must be off to bed—I am in the ladies’ main bedchambers downstairs—if you should want me.”

“I’ll find you, dearest. I am most happy to see you again!” said Madge.

*   *   *

During the remainder of the king’s Progress, the royal couple spent their days on the hunt, with the king and his men slaughtering many stags and roes for their evening meals. The queen rode beside the king and killed a buck and more than one coney. Madge usually withdrew to her rooms during the hunt, though she enjoyed the out of doors, especially the autumn beauty of Savernake Forest with the cloudless blue sky, rust-colored leaves, golden late-blooming flowers, and the cool fresh air. The air was a welcome relief from the humid winds and often unsavory smells about London. When she could find a way to creep out by herself, she often walked over the hills and valleys of the forest. On many such days, she sent word for Arthur to meet her at a designated spot, say the large boulder atop the second hill or the curve to the left in the little river that meandered through the fields. Those stolen moments with Arthur were the sweetest part of the Progress for Madge. Unfortunately, the king kept most of his men busy with cleaning hunting gear, tacking the horses, and preparing the carcasses for cooking.

Sir Henry Norris always rode next to the king and, when the queen rested with the ladies, Norris and Sir Francis Bryan, the “vicar of hell,” made merry with Great Harry. Bowls, tenes, games of darts, and cards kept them happily occupied. Though Madge had seen Norris a few times, she had not been forced to spend time with him. He seemed happy enough with the pretty serving girl Madge had seen coming from his room.

The day before the Progress was to depart Wulfhall and return to London, the king and queen called all the ladies and gentlemen of the Court together in the Great Hall.

“Dear friends, at the suggestion of my dearest and most beloved wife,” said Henry, looking at Anne with great fondness, “there is to be an archery contest between the ladies of the court and their gentlemen friends. This is not to be any ordinary contest but one in which a true hunt is to occur. First, the ladies will go about with bows and arrows to shoot what prey they can—rabbits, squirrels, deer, hedgehogs, chickens, snakes, wild boar—whatever the ladies wound will count for them. This afternoon, the gentlemen will face the same challenge, with one exception. They must tie one arm behind them!” said the king, laughing heartily as the men protested the conditions.

“Look to, gentlemen! We must give the fairer sex a solid chance to best you! After all, you have hunted since boyhood and I’ll warrant many of the ladies have never held a bow!” said the king. “When the horns blow, the hunt will begin. Ladies, you may ride or go on foot. May the sharpest marksman win!”

Madge stood beside Lady Seymour and Lady Rochford. They were making plans to hunt together, but neither looked her way. It was clear she was not welcome in their party. She searched the crowd for a possible friend, but the ladies were dispersing with great speed. She decided she would hunt alone. She picked up a small bow and a quiver of arrows, slung them over her shoulder, and made her way toward the forest. She noticed many of the ladies were heading into the sun so she decided to go in the opposite direction. She hoped she would find more possibilities with fewer hunters nearby.

As the sun shone down on the meadow ahead, Madge noticed the greens of the grasses were fading to brown and some of the brush had already turned crimson and ochre. The air smelled of cut hay and Madge watched as a V of geese flew overhead, honking and squawking like screaming children. She marched along, not looking where she was going. Instead, her eyes were on the sky, following the birds and the clouds. Such excursions reminded her of home, though by now Great Snoring would be cooler and she would be wearing her heavy cloak. She was heading for a large stand of oaks at the edge of the forest where she felt sure she would find a hare or weasel she could snare. With her steady stride, she reached the wood fairly quickly. Beneath the trees, shadows gathered and a great silence enveloped her. She felt as if she were entering some sort of holy ground, a place of unknown age where something very ancient still lived. Whether it be wood sprite or a saintly hermit she did not know. But she felt a presence in the forest.

She continued to travel into the trees, her skirts snagging on the underbrush and the rocks bruising her feet. She found a large boulder covered with lichen and decided to sit upon it so she could quietly wait for an animal to venture into view. She lay her bow and quiver beside her, keeping her breathing even and her movements to a minimum.

After a good while, the birds suddenly stopped their twittering and the wood grew more quiet. Madge did not move. She thought she heard the bushes rustle behind her, but she did not turn for fear of startling the prey.

“Guess who?” said Norris as he placed his hands over her eyes.

“I can tell ’tis you, Norris! Your voice gives you away,” said Madge, trying to remove his hands from her eyes.

“Lucky guess, milady—but it is I who am lucky in finding you so alone in this dark wood—I like the queen’s game. Indeed, I find it much to my heart’s desire,” he said, still keeping his hands over her eyes and refusing to allow her to face him.

“You have given me quite a fright!” said Madge as she pulled at his hands. He refused to budge so she decided to try another tack. “Dear Henry, please allow me to see you. Allow me to turn toward you and greet you properly,” said Madge, her voice soft and whispery.

“All right, dearest—I will release you if you will promise me a kiss,” said Norris.

“I will kiss you, I do so swear,” said Madge.

At that, he let loose of her and she faced him. His face was flushed and she could smell wine on his breath. Indeed, his shirt was stained with it as were his lips. He grabbed her waist and pulled her to him.

“For that kiss, milady,” he said as he yanked her hair so her head fell back slightly. He kissed her upturned lips, forcing his tongue deep into her mouth. He tasted of vomit and she could not help pushing away from him with all her strength.

“Like you not your betrothed’s kisses, my love? Then mayhap you will like this better,” he said as he threw her against the boulder and stood over her, his foot against her chest so she could not rise. He began to unlace his codpiece and his breeches.

“You and your haughty ways! I’ll teach you a thing or two, milady. I have offered you my name—I, groom of the stool and the king’s boon companion—and you treat me as if I have the pox! I will not abide it!” he said as he began to raise her skirts, lowering himself on top of her while she struggled against him.

“I beg of you—Norris, please! How will I ever learn to love you if you take me like this!” said Madge. She tried to keep her voice calm, hoping that if she remained that way, she could reason with him.

“Any kitchen slut could teach you a thing or two about love, milady. A slut would know to shut her mouth and open her legs when I say,” said Norris.

With that, he hit Madge across the lips and she felt warm blood at the corner of her mouth. At that moment, she realized her calmness would not stop him. So she began to scream.

“Shut up, you whore! Shut up! Or I’ll stuff something in that mouth you will not like!” said Norris.

Madge fought him, slinging her hands and fists against him as hard as she could. She could feel his manhood pushing against her skirts, which, thankfully, were many and full. She tried to kick him but he was too heavy.

“Witch! You bit me! You shall pay for that, milady—I’ll take you frontways and back!” he said.

She felt his hands pull and tear her slips. He was almost to her private self when suddenly, she saw someone behind him, someone enormous, carrying a drawn sword.

“Sir Norris, arise!” said a blustering voice.

Norris leapt up and bowed to the king. He quickly laced himself back together and tucked in his shirt.

“What mean you by this?!” said the king.

“Your Grace, forgive me. I wanted to consummate my betrothal, which is my legal right as Your Grace well knows,” said Norris.

“Such consummation is usually accomplished with the lady’s acquiescence, sir. It would be unseemly to behave otherwise, especially with the queen’s own cousin. I will not have such goings on in my court!” said the king. His Majesty took Norris by his doublet and shook him until Madge imagined his teeth rattled in his skull. The king continued to upbraid him.

“If I hear or see such things again, you will be sent from our presence forever and will lose those many appointments I have given you. Leave us at once and return to London this hour. You may see to the cleaning of the great house of easement—and see to it immediately upon your return—before you eat, before you sleep! Consider yourself lucky with this mercy, which is given only because you have been my friend!” roared the king.