On the third day, George entered, once more holding again a letter bearing the Great Seal.
I beseech you now with all my heart definitely to let me know your whole mind as to the love between us; for necessity compels me to plague you for a reply, having been struck by the dart of love, and being uncertain either of failure or of finding a place in your heart and affection, which point has certainly kept me for some time from naming you my mistress, since if you only love me with an ordinary love the name is not appropriate to you, seeing that it stands for an uncommon position very remote from the ordinary. But if it pleases you to do the duty of a true loyal mistress and friend, and to give yourself body and heart to me, who have been, and will be, your very loyal servant, I promise you that not only the name will be due to you, but also to take you as my sole mistress, casting off all others than yourself out of mind and affection, and to serve you only; begging you to make me a complete reply to this, my rude letter, as to how far and in what I can trust; and if it does not please you to reply in writing, to let me know of some place where I can have it by word of mouth, the which place I will seek out with all my heart. No more for fear of wearying you.
Written by the hand of him who would willingly remain yours.
Henry
What was Anne to do with this? There was no word of Catherine or her fate. There was no word from the nun.
She called for a writing desk, which was brought and laid across her lap. Carefully she peeled back the wax seal over the inkwell, took her quill, and began to write. Her graceful hand failed her today, though, and she threw several attempts at letters away.
My king:
For your letters I am grateful, though I wonder that a poor servant of the king should find such favour. I am obediently yours in all matters, but you must not ask me to do that which I cannot, for in pleasing you I may offend God, who constrains me. I must save my bed for my husband; it is his rightful gift and service from me, and you must not ask me to surrender what can only belong to him. Forgive me for when I have seemed cold, for I do not know how to secure my position in this court, being moved about, without assurance of a future, and wanting only to be a servant of both God and king.
But I honour the king with my whole heart and am ready to do his will as a loyal subject, so I find I am tossed about, like a damsel lost upon rough waters. Take this, therefore, as a token of my esteem and my pleading for your protection, for I am helpless to stand before you. Give me your full assurance of protection from the storms that surround me, the dark clouds that rise unbidden from the depths of the sea. To please you as you ask would offend God and do no good service to your kingdom, incurring His great wrath for my wickedness. I must obey your command, as your servant, and I plead with you to be a gentle monarch. I am at your mercy.
Anne wrote, the quill scratching against the paper, the feather shaking as she wrote, so that it resembled a quivering bird in her hand. In the letter she set a little charm, a wooden ship in which she had placed a loose diamond.
Henry’s reply came so fast he could not have had time to digest her letter completely. She had heard the horses burst down the last stretch of path and she ran to the window. She watched the rider, so unsteady when he dismounted that he grasped the horse’s mane for support. The great beast was going white at the mouth.
Anne,
The proofs of your affection are such, the fines phrases of the letters so warmly couched, that they constrain me ever truly to honour, love, and serve you, praying that you will continue in this same firm and constant purpose.
Praying also that if ever before I have in any way done you offence, that you will give me the same absolution that you ask, ensuring you that henceforth my heart shall be dedicated to you alone, greatly desirous that so my body could be as well, as God can bring to pass if it pleaseth Him, whom I entreat each day for the accomplishment thereof, trusting that at length my prayer will be heard, wishing the time brief, and thinking it but long until we shall see each other again.
Written with the hand of that secretary who in heart, body, and will is
Your loyal servant and most ensured servant,
Henry
George stood at the door, stealing scouring looks at her. “The king is sending a carriage. He is sending you back to court. You will lodge at Cardinal Wosley’s Hampton palace.”
“Send me with your blessing,” she said. “I am afraid.”
He did not reply.
“If I am close to the king, no one will question you.”
George shook his head, frowning. “We both know the law of the land. And we both know who I am.”
Anne’s heart beat faster. She did not like his secret spoken of so plainly. She did not like to see it so close to the surface of the waters; she wanted it buried and unspoken.