At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn (3 page)

The carriage jolted her again as it rounded a curve, forcing her thoughts to return to the present moment. The fresh green of the trees had grown deeper as the weather continued to warm the countryside.

“Ah! The little lambs, Maddie. How white they look, scampering beside their dams. Makes me long for home,” said Cate.

“At Great Snoring, I was the one to make certain each lamb was well-tended. Father would let me nurse the littlest ones with a wet rag slopped with milk from the cow, those tiny ones who were so small their own mothers refused them. Remember Blackie?” said Madge.

“Aye, such soft wool I never felt before. And Blackie followed you everywhere, just as if you were her own mother,” said Cate.

“We mustn’t speak of home. It is too sad,” said Madge. Her eyes filled and she forced herself to look out the window into the one patch of blue she could find. She blinked quickly until the tears went away.

“Look! Over there, Maddie! It must be London. I see a huge cluster of towers and buildings. Or maybe they’re trees,” said Cate.

“Your eyes are weak. Those aren’t trees. It is London, after all. Oh Cate, I hope we’re not to meet our doom.”

“Hush, girl. You’re the cousin of the queen. You’ll be treated as one of the royals yourself. And, if anything goes wrong, you’ll have me to protect you. I promised your father and mother I’d give my life, if it comes to that,” said Cate.

“Good Cate, I believe you would. But don’t worry, I intend to melt into the very walls. No one will bother with me because I shall become invisible. I shall be like Shadow,” Madge said.

“Rest a bit, my little lamb. We’ve the afternoon to spend before we arrive at court,” said Cate as she stroked Madge’s head and massaged her shoulders.

Closing her eyes was a welcome relief and the tender caresses across her neck and shoulders helped Madge relax. But she couldn’t drift off to sleep. She kept remembering the afternoon she had come face to face with the king.

Madge still felt shame when she thought of how foolishly she’d behaved when Queen Anne had called her forward. Both the king and his bride had asked her questions and tried to engage her in conversation. The queen was witty, telling little jokes to amuse both Madge and the king. They seemed to enjoy each word that came from the other’s mouth and wanted everyone at the Boleyn home to do the same. But Madge couldn’t think of one funny remark—she couldn’t think of anything at all. She answered “Yes, Majesty” and “No, Majesty” but that was the extent of her conversation. With her face burning and her stomach quivering, she’d been dismissed, though not before hearing the king whisper to his queen, “She’s a pretty one, but somewhat dull. Are you certain she’s the one you want?”

Madge hurried out of earshot before she could hear the queen’s reply.

Three

The carriage slowed to a crawl as they entered London, the buzz of commerce ringing through the air while what seemed like thousands of people milled about in the streets, dodging carts and wagons, horses and carriages, other pedestrians, not to mention free-roaming pigs, dogs, chickens, and a few cows.

“At last, Maddie. London! What you couldn’t find here wouldn’t be worth having,” said Cate as she sat up straighter and smoothed her still-blondish hair. Cate Blanton was a fine-looking matron, never married. Her figure was that of a girl’s with none of the soft pillows around the middle that showed on most women her age. She had come to the Shelton family as a girl of barely fourteen and had cared for each of the babes until the boys had gone off to school and the other girls had married or gone to a cloister. Maddie was her favorite.

Madge pulled the curtain to one side so she could get as full a view as possible. She took a quick breath and pinched her nose.

“London smells!” she said.

“Yes, ’tis the scent of life, Maddie. Life!” said Cate.

“What could all those people be doing? They look like the ants that nest in the pigsty, each heading in a direction, not looking left nor right, eyes straight ahead. And so many—ragamuffins, shopkeepers, milkmaids! How can they ever find their way in all this … this frenzy?!” said Madge.

“There’s a jester! How very short he is and dressed so fine. Must belong to the king. And there! A cutpurse, no doubt. See how his eyes narrow and the way he follows that well-dressed merchant,” said Cate.

“I never thought London to be like this—it’s beyond the mind of man. How far to Hampton Court, think you?” said Madge.

“A good deal of a ride, I’ll wager. We’re in Cheapside now. Look at all the shops and carts of goods—apples and violets, chickens and ducks, turnips and over there, cabbages! What food they must eat in London,” said Cate, still peeking from behind her own curtain.

“No wonder so many are round as fat sheep. I’ll not eat so much, Cate. You neither. We don’t want to waddle our way at court!” Madge looked at Cate and they both laughed.

At that moment, the carriage jerked to a stop. The driver swore at a passerby and before Madge could drop her curtain, a young man popped his head inside the carriage.

“Who might you be, missy, riding in the king’s own coach?” The young man smiled when he saw Madge and stared boldly into her eyes.

“Your better, that’s who,” scolded Cate as she tried to pull the curtain from the young man’s grip.

“I doubt it, old Nurse. Come on, missy. Don’t let the cat hold your tongue. You won’t get far at court with no wit.” He continued to gaze into Madge’s eyes.

“I … I am cousin to the queen, niece of Sir Thomas Boleyn,” Madge said with as much strength as she could deliver.

“Well then, I am wrong—you
are
my better. I am merely the bastard son of the king’s brother-in-law. Sir Charles Brandon is my father and I am called Arthur, after the king’s dear, dead brother,” he said as he swept the hat off his head and bowed with a grand flourish.

“I call you Sir Churlish, for though you carry the name of a great king, your actions here prove you share none of that king’s manners,” said Madge. She turned her face away from the young man as the carriage lurched forward once again.

“Call me what you will, my lady. I shall be your humble servant!” he called after them.

“Humph. I have heard tales about this—the shame of London! All the young men presume so upon the young ladies. We must take great care, my Maddie. Great care indeed,” said Cate.

Madge rested her head against the back of her seat and breathed several deep breaths. She dared not speak for her blood seemed about to burst from her veins. She wasn’t sure why. Sir Churlish had angered her, yet there was something beneath the anger, a feeling new to her. When she closed her eyes, she could still see his brown beard, not full and stiff like her father’s but soft-looking. And his hair, also dark, the exact shade of his eyes. Those eyes seemed to have laughed at her and she couldn’t figure out why. Was she so much of a country bumpkin? Were her features so ill arranged? Why should he mock her?

“Pay him no mind, my girl. London’s filled with hundreds like that—all swagger and strut. You won’t have to settle for such as he. The queen will match you well enough, you can count on that,” said Cate, settling into comfort again. She reached down into a burlap sack at her feet and pulled out a rosy apple. Then a small knife seemed to appear from nowhere and Cate began to slice.

“I care for no match. As well you know, I have no interest in marrying. I’d rather go to the convent or live as you do, Cate. I could serve as nurse to some darling child.” Madge smiled at her friend.

“No, Maddie. You’re too highborn now to serve as nurse to any except the queen’s own child. Maybe that is how she wishes to use you. Who can say? But I’ll warrant there’s a marriage to be arranged in her plan as well,” said Cate as she held a slice of apple for Madge to take.

In what seemed a short time, time enough for two women to eat an apple, the carriage pulled past the gates of a grand house and into a large courtyard. The coachman reined in the horses and a footman opened the door and offered Madge his hand.

“Hampton Court, my lady,” he said, not daring to look at Madge as she descended the step and her foot hit the cobbled walk.

Madge stared at the graceful lines of the building and understood immediately why Great Harry had taken over the castle from Cardinal Wolsey. The building was immense and the surrounding grounds perfectly manicured as precisely as the jewels sewn to the queen’s garments. Servants scurried hither and thither, each on an errand of utmost import, from the look on every face.

Cate descended from the carriage and grabbed Madge’s elbow.

“Don’t stand there agape, child. We must act as if this is the life to which we’re accustomed. Smile and chatter with me,” she said as she guided Madge to the enormous wooden door carved with wonderful scenes of shepherds and shepherdesses, trees and flowers, images of the apostles.

The two women entered.

“Welcome, my good ladies. I am mother of the maids, Mistress Marshall. Follow me and all will be well,” said the gray-haired woman. She led Madge and Cate to their beds just outside the queen’s apartments.

“Her Majesty will greet you in a few days, when she has time. Until then, you are free to wander in the gardens and in the queen’s apartments, though stay away from the privy chamber until you are invited inside by the queen herself. Her Majesty instructs all her ladies to be modest in dress and to behave with decorum, remembering always that you reflect the queen’s own dignity. Bible reading is encouraged and the queen leaves her very own copy of Tyndale’s New Testament in the outer rooms of her apartments for her ladies to read at their leisure. Rest now and come to sup when you hear the bell. Just follow the others and you’ll find the Great Hall,” said Mistress Marshall as she ushered them into a small room featuring a window with many panes of glass and two small beds.

“Queen’s own dignity, indeed,” whispered Cate.

“She is full of dignity and good spirits, too, Cate. You must keep your feelings about her and the new religion to yourself. If the king had the least notion that you’re a papist at heart, we’d be finished before we got started. Mum’s the word, dear Cate,” said Madge.

“I’ll be mum for your sake, Maddie. I know how important your being at court is—how your family depends upon it. But I don’t have to like it. Nor do I have to read books writ by the devil himself!” Cate ran her hands across the lumpy mattress, brushing off puffs of dust. “I intend to continue to worship as always. In secret, on that you can bet. And I am not alone, Maddie. There are many who think the king is wrong and blinded by his lust for Nan Bullen. And many who think her his whore, even though they dare not speak of it,” said Cate.

“But she is my cousin and I will honor her. She is young and so full of life. How she laughs and teases the king—and he loves her so,” said Madge. “I think it a wonderful story how a simple girl could win the love of a king and he would move the earth to make her his bride. I could only wish for such a thing.”

“Take care in what you wish, my girl. Now, let’s unpack these trunks. Then we shall stroll in the garden. We have time before supper.”

Four

“Surely, we shall find the Great Hall if we can but find the door to get back inside,” said Madge.

Cate and Madge hurried from the garden toward the first doorway they saw and entered quickly. Ladies and gentlemen filled the hallway, all heading in the same direction. Cate and Madge joined the flow until they came to an enormous dining room. The king and queen sat at the farthest end of the room and they were surrounded by such dignitaries as Sir Thomas Boleyn, Lord Norfolk, and Sir Charles Brandon. At the lower tables other dignitaries were seated: Sir William Coffin, a gentleman of the privy chamber; Sir Henry Norris; Sir William Brereton and others of great import.

“Where are we supposed to sit?” asked Madge.

“Anywhere we can find a spot. That is, until we are formally greeted by the queen,” said Cate.

“Here, then,” said Madge as she scooted onto one of the long benches in front of a heavily laden table. Never had Madge seen so much food at one time.

“Shadow shall eat well at court, too. We must watch her figure as well as our own,” said Madge.

“Yes, but I expect she’ll have no bellyaches with
her
meals. She’ll never have to mind
her
tongue,” said Cate.

A young man scooted onto the opposite side of the table across from Madge.

“But you must learn to mind your own tongue, mistress. And your lady must learn to loosen hers,” the young man said. He grabbed a piece of mutton from the trencher and ate vigorously.

“You!” Cate said. She turned sharply away from him and jerked Madge’s elbow so that she had to do the same.

“’Tis I, my dear ladies. And I’ve worked up a mighty hunger. And thirst. Ale! Ale!” said the young man, waving to the servant with the large pitcher.

The servant hurried over to their table and filled every cup to the brim. Then, before Madge could thank him, he scurried to replenish the next goblet. Madge looked at the hundreds of people in the Great Hall, each dressed in satins and silks, jewels and pearls adorning the delicate necks of the ladies, their hair sparkling with gems, their dresses heavy with precious stones sewn into the very cloth. The walls themselves shimmered with gold and silver coverings and, though Madge and those at her table ate from wooden trenchers, she could see the glint of gold on the tables of the king and other dignitaries.

“I wonder how many eat in this hall tonight,” murmured Madge.

“Well over a thousand souls, my lady. Most of them grinning and plotting their way to the king,” said the young man across from Maddie.

“More than I’ve seen gathered in one room,” said Cate.

“The king usually takes his meals in his privy chamber, but now he wants to show the world his new bride, so you find them up there on the dais. More fun when he’s not here,” said the young man.

“How so?” said Madge.

“Well, now that the queen is his
wife,
she must promote her virtue and make the court a decent and suitable place for children. After all, she’s to have the king’s own child soon enough. Court makes pure the impure and sullies the innocent,” he said.