Chapter Sixteen
Other there be whose lives do linger still in pain,
Against their will preserved are, that would have died fain (happy).
~Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey
“Edward!”
He narrowed his eyes, sweeping up and down my countenance, no doubt taking in my red-kissed lips and disheveled appearance.
“Where have you been?” he demanded.
I had the good merit to blush at his words and look away. “In the privy… Something did not agree with me last evening.” I gestured to the bed. “Where is Lizzie?”
“I had her taken to the nursery, so that I might share the bed with my wife.” He continued to gaze at me, his thoughts hidden.
I fidgeted where I stood until I could take it no longer and then went to pour myself some watered wine.
“When did you arrive?”
“I have only just come. I rode through the night as soon as I heard Surrey was here.”
“He’s gone now.”
“I see that. Sir Anthony was here?”
“Yes, he arrived with a message for Jane yestermorning. He plans on leaving this morning, I do believe.”
“He’s gone now as well.”
I nodded nonchalantly and then went to the bed. I pulled back the covers and sank beneath their thickness, glad that some of the warmth was still retained in them. I had grown cold when I saw Edward standing in the middle of the room.
“Come to bed then, you must be exhausted from your journey.”
“Yes,” was all he said.
I closed my eyes and let sleep take me, for I was too afeared that Edward would have more questions about where I had been, what I had been doing.
May 12, 1537
Spring had most certainly arrived. Little buds of flowers broke open in the morning, petals of all colors preening in the sunlight. The air was light and sweet, breezes carrying the scent of new life. The grass even looked softer.
“The king is expected to arrive here this very afternoon,” Edward said.
All that had happened when he was away, we’d never discussed. I was not clear on why I kept Lizzie’s secret from Edward, only aware that if I’d told him, he would have called Surrey out, and we could not have another scandal as we had with Tom.
“These past several weeks have really flown by,” I murmured, startled that in the next few days I would have to prepare to leave Wulfhall, leave Eddie. My gaze went from the gilded looking glass toward the little cradle that sat in my room. I had taken to letting the boy doze in my chambers whenever I could, not wanting to miss a moment of time with him. He was such a good baby, already sleeping through the night, and his wet nurse told me he was a hearty eater.
My mother and Page had left the day after Edward arrived, and I had my suspicions he had forced them out, although with a gentle hand. They had not fussed about Lizzie’s staying. Part of me wondered if they’d allowed Surrey to debauch her in order to get me to agree to take her—just like I’d threatened... Was it my fault?
“They have, indeed. But I must confess I am itching to return to court. Are you not?” Edward said.
“I do miss it, but I have found such peace here, and there is Eddie.”
“Oh, posh, Anne. The boy has got to learn at some point not to hide behind his mother’s skirts. We would not want our son to be the whelp other boys pick on, would we?”
“No, certainly not. You are correct.” But inside I laughed, for he was only an infant and certainly not a boy hiding behind his mother’s skirts.
Edward smiled and nodded, his face smug with satisfaction that he must know best for his own son.
“Is everything prepared for the king’s visit? Have we enough variety to prepare a feast fit for His Majesty?”
“I shall speak to Cook directly.”
“Excellent. I received a missive this morning that they landed at Dover yesterday and they rode halfway here before taking shelter for the night. Knowing His Majesty, he rose before the dawn and set out. In fact, he could arrive any minute, really.”
“Shoo then.” I waved my hands at Edward. “I cannot complete my ablutions with you standing there, and I cannot go about my duties if I have not completed my ablutions.”
“Yes, of course, my dear.” Edward bowed and then exited the room.
As soon as he was gone, I hurried to complete my toilette, gave directions to Cook and then went in search of Jane, Beth and Mary. The latter two were still lounging in their beds, but Jane was in my solar, embroidering and humming.
“Lo, there you are,” I said gaily. “The king should be here very soon.” No sooner were the words out of my mouth than a loud commotion of shouts, horns and horses’ hoof beats came pounding through the open air of the window.
We stood, rushed to the window and flung it open. The courtyard below held a line of trumpeters facing the front of Wulfhall, behind them guards on foot and more guards on horseback, the ones on the ends holding King Henry’s flags. Behind them sat the king by himself, and behind him again were the nobles who served him.
He raised his hand in the air when he spotted Jane in the window. “Jane!”
“Henry, you’ve returned!” Jane turned from the window and rushed from the room.
How sweet it was that they still burned with a fever for each other.
I followed slowly behind but still within enough time to see Henry dismount, shove aside some of his men and embrace his queen.
“Lady Anne, it appears you do keep your promises. Jane looks ravishing!” He bent down and kissed her again. “Beauchamp.”
Edward bowed to his sovereign. “Welcome to our home, Majesty. It is with great pleasure that we welcome you.”
“Wulfhall holds many kind memories for me, Beauchamp. For it was one of the first places I became acquainted with Jane.”
Edward nodded, as did the rest of the party.
“We are hungry. Shall we dine?” the king asked.
“As it pleases you, Majesty,” I said and, with my arm, indicated for him to enter the house first, the rest of us to follow.
By the time the king had entered our great hall, the servants had done a great job of transforming the normally plain room into a grand place for royalty. The way they’d situated the trestle table accentuated the most-prized possession of Wulfhall—the stained glass window of a glorious battle scene.
The prism lights hit the ivory tablecloth just so, making it look like a rainbow. Musicians had been scrounged up from the local village and now played contemporary tunes in the loft above.
Servants stood at the ready with casks of wine and ale. The table was set with goblets, bowls of almonds, fruit, the first sugared flowers of the season and deviled quail eggs—the latter, Queen Jane’s favorite.
In addition to the great hall being transformed, Beth, Lizzie and Lady Mary had risen and now waited by the hearth as the king entered. Both rushed to curtsy.
“Mary, my daughter. I trust you are well.” The king approached her and took her face in his hands, kissing her gently atop her head.
“Yes, Majesty.”
“Father, Mary,” he whispered.
“Yes, Father.”
“Lady Elizabeth, Mistress Lizzie, a pleasure as always,” the king said.
They took turns kissing his offered ring.
The king broke out into a pleased smile and offered Mary his left arm—Jane still occupying his right.
“Come, let us sit together.”
The seats of the trestle table upon the dais were soon filled, as were the other two tables that sat perpendicular to us.
“Majesty, I trust your trip abroad was met with great success,” Edward said, leaning forward to catch the eye of his master, who sat between Jane and Mary.
“’Twas, Beauchamp. However, let us not discuss it just now. I prefer to have speech that is more jovial, having just returned from a month of political discussion, and I find myself surrounded by beautiful women.” Henry shook his head. “So eager you are to please, Edward. Is it not enough that I have come to visit your home? That I have left my queen in your care? There will be plenty of time later to talk of news.”
Edward nodded, sufficiently cowed. I hated to see him that way, defeated-looking. And it was not as if his question had been offensive. He’d simply inquired after his master’s trip. It had been a question that would have been expected. Just another show of His Majesty’s volatile mood swings. “As it pleases you, Majesty,” he murmured.
After several goblets of wine and ale had been consumed by all, and mere crumbs remained in the bowls that once held magnificent treats, the servants brought forth roasted meats, poached fish, stewed vegetables, meat pasties and loaves of bread.
I caught the eye of my young sister, Lizzie, who had been staring intently at the king. She snickered and returned to her food. What impudence! She was lucky not to have been caught by His Majesty himself. I turned to see what she’d been so intently watching, only to wish I had not. The king shoveled great gobs of food into his mouth by the handful. Grease dribbled down his chin and onto the front of his doublet. He slurped at his goblet to help rinse the unchewed food down his throat in order so he might shove more food into the never-ending cavern.
My stomach recoiled, and I instead turned my attention to a troupe of players who’d gathered near the front door.
“Majesty, we have prepared a show for your return.” I stood and walked toward the players, waving them forward.
The troupe conversed with the musicians, who began to play lively tunes. Henceforth, a satirical play about the Pilgrimage of Grace and the main character of Aske, renamed Ass, took place, leaving the entire great hall in an uproar of laughter.
“What say you, Mr. Ass,
Shall we let you take a pass?
For if we do, then surely it poses,
A great risk for all men with large noses.”
With that last line, several players came out with abnormally large noses attached to their faces—for it was said Mr. Aske’s nose was often so buried up others’ behinds as he sought to please them—and began poking the rears of each other, as if to stuff their nasal appendages up the others’ behinds.
“Fellow lovers of the pope,
Have you not learned when not to grope?
I say, I am not ready now,
Come back and receive me on the morrow.”
The play was bawdy, intimating that all the men of the Roman church and followers of the pope practiced buggery. In the end, a player dressed as the king came in to absolve their souls before sending them to their maker.
All in all, the evening went well, and despite the king’s miserable mood upon sitting down to the noon meal, by the entertainment’s end, he was laughing and merry once more. In fact, he even bestowed kindness upon Edward, tossing him a bag of gold coins and a gift of two new gorgeous and sleek white horses for ensuring the care of his wife was done so properly.
The next morning, King Henry, Queen Jane and Lady Mary set off for Whitehall, as did Edward. Elizabeth Seymour, my sister and I remained behind to see that the house was properly packed of our belongings and instructions left for the nurses who would care for my dear little Eddie while I returned to court.
May 27, 1537
The choirboys’ voices singing the Te Deum rang out loud and like angels on high for the queen. Vast amounts of guests joined the king and queen at Mass today, Trinity Sunday, at St. Paul’s Cathedral. A person would have thought they were attending a coronation for all the pomp and squalor that went into today’s events. Courtiers, myself included, were dressed in their very best gowns, bejeweled from wrist to neck in the most glorious of gems. And most, if not all of us, offered gifts of money and support to the church—to God. For today was a very special day.
King Henry and Queen Jane had announced her condition to the council members the previous day, and news had spread like a wild forest fire throughout London and even to country manors just outside of the great city. Perhaps even now, those in Northumberland and Wales were hearing the news of Their Majesties’ prayers being answered.
The long-awaited babe was due to arrive in less than five months. Lords and bishops crowded the pews, the mayor of London and aldermen of various guilds dressed to the nines in their liveries. All held their hands to the sky, singing and imploring the Lord to bring them a prince.
The pews were filled, stuffed, really, with people. My skirts and the skirts of all the women surrounding me crushed to our legs we stood so close together. Fans waved frantically to stanch the heat, and groomsmen and altar boys lined the sides of the rooms, waving palm fronds at us in an attempt to cool the stifling air.
I shifted my glance around the church, taking in all those in attendance.
Jane looked faint from the heat, and one of her ladies brought a mug to her lips for her to drink every few minutes.
But one person was notably missing—Surrey.
A smug smile curved my lips that I had to quickly swipe free.
All those in attendance praised and sang to the glories of God for the queen’s quickening. And I, too, had to offer my prayers, even though I shifted restlessly with the need to find out why Surrey was not at Mass, and if it had anything to do with Anthony and the favor I had begged of him.
Voices rose high to butt against the sopranos of the choir and soon drowned out my thoughts. When the voices died down, Latimer, the Bishop of Worcester, stood and made an oration to the assembly. His whiny, nasally voice echoed in the grand vestibule.
“Praise be to God and to King Henry!”
“Amen,” the crowd said in unison.
“The Lord has seen the king’s reformation of the corrupt church, has approved of it, and gives good and gracious King Henry a blessing. A blessing in the form of a babe in our own good Queen Jane’s belly!” Bishop Latimer called out.
The congregation crossed themselves with Latimer, and while he looked toward the cross of Jesus Christ that hung high behind him, we all bowed our heads and muttered prayers. I pray to you, Jesu, bring us a prince! Hundreds of prayers just like that, begging the Lord to give Queen Jane a boy. But as the people murmured and lamented to the good Lord, I looked around, spotting at least one person who prayed something different—Norfolk.
For certain, the man prayed Jane would not birth a boy, but another girl, and we Seymours would be seen in no better light than the Howards. Our queen, another girl-birthing witch, just as their queen had been. A shudder passed through me as Norfolk raised his black, beady eyes, catching my gaze. I could not look away, almost like those eyes held me captive, his vile mind whispering into the depths of my soul. Warning me. Telling me we would not succeed. Or had he rendered me speechless for another reason? Was it that Surrey, at this very moment, was being punished for his misdeeds?
I held his gaze, chin lifted, challenging him. Norfolk might have instilled fear in a lot of people, but he was not going to scare me. Anne Boleyn had stood up to her uncle in the end. If I was truly so like her, so strong-willed and outlandish as Tom claimed I was, then I would not be cowed by this fortune-hunting man.
Latimer’s voice rang out again, ending the service, and Norfolk looked away. I took it as a triumph. I had won this round. Five months from now, Jane would need to win us the second.
We filed out, our hearts jumping with hope, and my stomach flipped into my throat. With the number of prayers having just gone up, the Lord had to have heard. A prince would be born!
We walked in a long line back to the castle. Jane was carried in a gilded litter, and the king rode his horse beside her. King Henry wanted to take no risk with Jane and her babe. Her belly had barely popped, but he treated her like the finest of bone china.
I breathed out with irritation, as everyone in front of me seemed content to move at a snail’s pace. I wanted to shout for them all to move out of my way, so that I might seek out Anthony in secret to find out where Surrey was.
My sister Lizzie pinched my arm gently, reminding me of my mother. “Anne, what are those people doing?”
I glanced toward where she pointed at the folks of London who stood just outside the gates, arms outstretched. But before I could answer her, the king spoke.
“Light fires across England!” the king shouted. “Let there be a hogshead of wine at every fire. Let no man, woman or child go thirsty on this night, for soon I will be the father of a prince!”
A resounding cheer broke out, so loud the insides of my ears vibrated painfully. “Alms,” I murmured to Lizzie.
When we finally made it back to the great hall, where a great feast had been planned for this morning, my nerves were on edge, and I seriously considered going out to the gardens for a bit of air. Lizzie hurried off with a few other maids of honor she’d become close with, and Edward veered toward the other council members.
Jane, occupied with the king, and myself caught in a rare moment of solitude, I sneaked out to the side gardens. The warmth of late spring sun on my face as I lifted it up to the sky was reassuring, pleasant.
I took a deep breath of fresh air, happy to be out of the stifling hall, even if only for a moment. I closed my eyes and sighed in contentment.
Darkness came, the bright light gone from behind my lids. “Anne.”
I startled them open at the sound of Edward’s voice.
“My lord,” I mumbled, suddenly feeling awkward at having him catch me in such a moment.
“You look beautiful today, my lady wife.” He smiled, his eyes twinkling. “I confess I watched you, half thinking you might twirl with arms outstretched, but alas, you disappointed me.”
I laughed and reached out to pinch his arm. “Do not tease, husband, for the truth is, had you waited a few more moments, I might have done just that.”
Edward sighed with exaggeration. “’Tis the truth I am not such a patient man.”
“I thought I saw you go off with Suffolk. What brought you out here to me?”
“Is a man not allowed to spend a few moments alone with his wife?”
I narrowed my eyes. “We are alone most nights, my lord.”
He smiled, a bit of sadness tingeing the brown depths of his eyes. “’Tis yet another truth you speak, but I find even with the time we have alone, that I miss you greatly.”
His words shocked me. Edward was not one for flowery words or romance. We were generally quite reserved with each other unless our bodies were connecting in passion. “Miss me?”
“Aye. We are most of the time engaged in some such political ruse or another. The queen takes up much of your time as the king does mine.”
“A part of court life, we both rightly know.”
He nodded, that sad smile still filling his features. “Well, no matter, I did not follow you to talk of such things. I came truly to tell you that Surrey has been arrested again.”
My heart skipped an excited beat in my chest, and it was all I could do to stop from smiling.
“Let us walk.” He offered me his arm, and together we wove our way over the stone path, which sat between blooms of flower beds.
“What has he done this time?” I tried for my voice to be detached, but there was still a hitch at the end that belied my true feelings.
“He has been arrested on suspicion of treason. Talking too much in taverns again. He was overheard whispering how he would see himself and his children on the throne someday.”
“He is an arrogant man.”
“One who will soon be released. Already, evidence has arrived that Surrey was not even in London when he supposedly made the claims. I suspect that someone has made up the charges in hopes of punishing Surrey. In hopes that this time he will be put to death for certes and no longer a nuisance at court.” Edward stopped and turned to me. We stood in the shadows of a few trees, the castle a distance behind us. “I will find him guilty for you, Anne.”
My eyes widened, and I swallowed hard. Edward’s face was etched with worry lines, and why hadn’t I noticed before that a few gray hairs had found their way to sprinkle near his temple? He’d changed before my eyes, and I had barely noticed. Court was a constant strain, and it would begin to take its toll. But I hoped it would not tax Edward too harshly. With his words I realized one thing: His worry over me had brought such distress to him that he was literally willing to kill a man for it. And as the chief justice in this matter, he could do exactly as he said.
This could be the end of Surrey. The end of the pain he’d inflicted on me. “Yes, Edward, yes.”
“Oh, Anne,” he breathed and pulled me to him in an embrace.
We held tight to each other, my ear pressing to his heart and listening to its wild beating.
“I do not know what has come over me, only that I see the change in you when he is around. I know the things he is capable of, the things he’s done. I would be doing the world a bit of good if he were to walk along the scaffold and kiss the ax.”
“There will be questions behind your justice. Norfolk is a powerful man, Edward.” I pulled away and met his gaze.
Edward nodded. “Likely the king will pardon him, but at least he will know where he stands with me.”
“And a new enemy created.”
“He was already an enemy, Anne, and we are never without them.”
The moment was intense, where he delved into my soul through his gaze, and I was afraid he’d see that I was the one who had had Surrey arrested to begin with. Afraid he’d see my kiss with Anthony.
Instead, he brushed his lips lightly on mine. “I shall punish him for you, Anne. ’Tis the least I can do to ease your suffering.”
I hugged him tight, grateful in that moment to have him fighting the demons that haunted me.
The following morning, I penned both a note of thanks and of goodbye to Anthony. He never replied.