Chapter Twenty-Two
And though some lust to love, where blame full well they might;
And to such beasts of current sought, that should have travail bright;
I will observe the law that Nature gave to me,
To conquer such as will resist, and let the rest go free.
~Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey
Eleven months later…
November 27, 1539
Anne of Cleves. I smirked as I thought on it. Yet again, another Anne. Could not a mother come up with another name for her female child? Anne, Elizabeth, Mary, Katherine and Jane. The most popular female names at court. For those of the male persuasion, Henry, John, Edward and Thomas seemed to have been quite in abundance.
Hmm. I supposed I was not one to question seeing as how my second child—thankfully, taking after my likeness so his parentage would never be questioned—was also named Edward, Lord Beauchamp, although we called him Beau. Perhaps the future queen’s mother had had an Anne before she’d borne this one.
Furthermore, had my mother?
The future queen was German. Had there ever been a German queen on the English throne?
“Sister!” Michael strode up to me, one of the only men left in my life who could still bring about a real smile. “There you are. I’ve been looking all over for you.”
“Whatever for, Michael?” I slid my arm through his, partly because he’d offered it, and partly because I’d wanted to sink against someone. Michael had been gone from court for nearly a year, traveling to foreign courts for the king. My own Edward was gone constantly now, fighting in the north, fighting overseas. He was the commander of the king’s armies along with Norfolk and Suffolk, an instrumental man in the protection and future of our great country and His Majesty. At one time I might have missed him. I might have been saddened by his length of absence, but I no longer had such feelings. I was still numb to the world. A floating shell. My confessor feared I would become embittered toward life forever more if I did not warm outwardly soon. I did not care.
“I have just heard word.” He leaned in close to whisper. “Anne of Cleves will be in England before the month is out!”
“How perfectly marvelous for His Majesty,” I said dryly. From what I’d heard, the future queen was slow-witted, boring and ugly to boot. However, the king’s own personal secretary, Cromwell, and the ambassadors he’d sent to the Duchy of Cleves, swore on their own lives and the blood of their mothers that she was beautiful, intelligent, and loved all sorts of courtly entertainments. I hoped they all rotted for their lies. The king would soon see the error of it. I’d tried to warn him through Edward, but he would not hear of it. The painting Hans Holbein had sent was delicious, he said. Delicious as a forest mouse skewered on a stick, if anyone were to ask me. I pursed my lips and tried not to roll my eyes.
“Why are not you excited? Once he is married, you will have a new queen to serve. More to do at court.”
“As I live and breathe, Michael, that is exactly what I was hoping for.” My sarcasm was lost on my brother, who was more often than not these days simply enamored of my position as aunt to the prince and heir to the throne.
“How is Shelford? I am sorry I have yet to visit.” The king had bestowed Shelford Priory on my brother for his service, and Michael had built a lovely manor home there.
“No bother, I am hardly there, although my wife decorated it, and soon we shall see our first child born there.”
“That is lovely. Tell me when you return, and I shall endeavor to visit.”
“You would be most welcome.” He kissed my forehead. “Oh, I forgot to ask, how is the little one doing?”
“Little one?”
“Beau, your babe.”
I was stunned silent for a moment, as I tried not to think of how the baby was. As soon as I’d borne him, I’d thrust him away. The little pink swinging arms and legs had threatened to hook my heart again, and I just could not bear it if I lost another one. “He is doing just fine.”
“Are you all right? You look a bit pale.”
“Perfectly well, Michael. Go along now. I see your wife over there beckoning you.”
When Michael turned to see where I’d pointed, I slipped away, only to be stopped by someone gripping my arm.
“Anne.”
Surrey. I wrenched my arm free. The familiar heart-stopping, gut-wrenching turmoil filled me, as it always did when he was near. Surprisingly, through my numbness, anger burned outward.
“Do not. Speak. To. Me.” I managed to get the words out through bared teeth and no growling.
“My lady, please.” His voice held a hint of remorse, his eyes pleaded.
I would never show him mercy. “What is the meaning of your imprudence?” I snapped. I had no time for the man, not in this lifetime, no matter how doe-like he made his eyes. He was an evil, vile, disgrace to the human race.
“I wish to dine with you.”
I lifted my chin, hands balled into fists at my side, and let out a short bark of laughter. “I have other arrangements. Mayhap you may ask me again… never.”
“Anne,” he sighed, hands out, imploring.
“I have not given you leave to use my Christian name, Lord Surrey.”
“If we cannot be civil, then you must at least know it is truly important that I speak with you.”
“Civil? Do you recall our past, Surrey?” I leaned closer and glared at him more fiercely. “That of my sister?”
He had the audacity to look confused, then nodded.
“And have you nothing further to say on the matter?”
“I am a changed man.”
“Changed? I doubt it. You were cruel to me when we first met and cruel to me still. Cruel to my sister and countless others, I have no doubt. Think you I have forgotten any of the evil things you have sought to do to me?” I tried to keep my voice low, but people were beginning to look our way.
An unusual interest clouded in his eyes, and I could not for the life of me determine what it meant. “You are just as likely to be stubborn, as a horse’s ass will still shit in the morning.”
I blinked several times, not really quite certain I had completely heard correctly what he’d just said to me. “Are you referring to me as a horse’s ass?”
“For the love of God! Just let me inform you!”
Anger burned within me. I wanted to beat this man about the ears with my shoe, like I would to be rid of pestilent vermin. “I would rather eat my dinner from said horse’s ass!”
“Anne, this is for the good of the Seymour family.”
With those words he had me. I could not allow my stubborn pride to get in the way of goodness for the Seymours. Ugh! How it irritated me that I had to concede! My mouth tasted bitter. “Very well, then. But I shan’t be seen with you in public. We shall dine in my apartments tomorrow evening.”
“I look forward to it.”
“I do not. My guards shall surround me.”
“I shan’t bother with ravaging you, my lady. Do not forget I’ve already tasted the flower, thorns and all.”
Bile rose in my throat, and I wanted so very badly to spit in his face. But I refrained. “Have you? Hmm… Mustn’t have been too—” I looked him up and down, “—impressive, for I have thoroughly erased it from my mind.”
Surrey only smiled cruelly, for he no doubt saw straight through my ruse. “I shall see you on the morrow. Pleasant dreams, Countess.”
My lip curled up involuntarily into a snarl. “Try not to die before we meet again.” With that said, I whipped around and stalked away, head held high. Lord, how I despised the man!
“You wound me with your words, wolf.”
His words faded away behind me.
Before I could escape the great hall, whose walls felt more and more like they were caving in on me, the king’s voice rang out above the crowd. “Countess! Lady Anne! Come hither!”
I pasted a smile onto my face, the skin feeling stretched and taut, and walked through the parted crowd to where the king sat upon his throne chair, larger than life, and looking like a fat cat who’d found his rabbit dinner divine. I tried to not to think of my friends whom he had murdered. I tried not to think of how much I detested his very soul. Instead, I thought of Jane, of the young prince, of Edward.
As always he was dressed to impress in a deep-blue velvet doublet with silver threads and pearls sewn into the ornate embroidery. One leg was tossed casually atop the arm of his throne chair.
I heard tell the men of his bedchamber joked that the privy chair he used was also called a throne. How could one man still insist on being levitated so much, even when he took a shit? I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes, and even took a moment to chide myself. I’d become so jaded and bitter over the last year. It was a wonder Edward came home to me at all.
“Majesty.” I bowed before him and kissed his offered ring—a large ruby inlaid with gold and diamonds. His fingers had grown even thicker, like fat stubby sausages. When we’d first met so many years ago, they’d been long, strong, slim. Now they just looked fat and short, his jewels digging deep into the skin. Was it possible for him to even remove the rings?
“Do you miss your husband overmuch?” he inquired, which jarred me. The king really could not care less about his subjects’ feelings.
I decided to answer him honestly. “I miss him, Majesty. Perhaps not overmuch, but the lack of his presence is somewhat uncomfortable.”
He leaned in close, his nostrils flaring as he looked me up and down. A chill of fear skittered over my spine. So far, I had been able to avoid the king’s attention. Why did he appear to take an interest now?
“I am also lonely,” he drawled. “And in need of…more womanly attentions than what I’ve been getting.”
“Shall we dance then?” I asked, pretending not to understand what he meant. Why was I being accosted by men this eve?
The king laughed, and his head fell back. “Indeed we shall.”
He stood and hobbled down the few steps to stand in front of me, his eyes twinkling. “You know what I meant. You are no fool. A clever one you are.” He took my arm and placed it on his and began walking me about the room, his limp beside me worse than usual. “I find dancing will be too tiresome. Cards?”
“Yes, Majesty, a pleasure.”
We sat at a table, and Henry dealt out the cards.
“Had we never met my second wife, we may have taken a liking to you,” he said, placing a card on the table.
I counter placed my own card. “I am flattered, Your Majesty, but I was already married to Edward.”
He chuckled. “We would not have had to marry you, although a pleasure it would have been, for certes.”
“You are too kind.”
“And you are too proper.” He sat back in his chair, swallowing hard. His gaze settled on my face, his eyes linking with mine. I was suddenly uncomfortable. The king and I had shared so few tête-à-têtes, I was unclear how to react. “Would you have married us?”
I sat there, blinking. Feeling like a fish out of water, a doe staring at the bow, cocked and ready. “Yes, Majesty.”
“A very proper answer.” He leaned forward. “But why? Tell me why, Anne? Jane loved me for me. Katharine even loved me for me. Anne loved the crown, and yet before my new betrothal was arranged, I could not find a woman to marry me, and I am the King of England!” The end of his words were bellowed, and I jumped a little in my chair.
“Please, accept my apologies for shouting. My leg pains me overmuch this eve.” He dismissed his own formal language of referring to himself as “we” and “us.”
“No need to apologize to me, Majesty, as I am forever your servant.”
“Escort me to my room?” he asked, tossing all of his cards onto the table.
I nodded solemnly. Perhaps by the time we arrived there, his leg would hurt too much for him to want to do further with me.
As we walked out of the great hall and down the corridor, I could hear the whispers of the people. Even if I did leave his chambers right away, they would all think that the king and I were having an affaire. But perhaps, I realized, this was what the king needed. His body was breaking down. He was getting older. He was no longer the lithe, youthful, energetic king of old, but a sallow, fat, moodier version. He had just been rejected by dozens of women across Europe who had not even met him. His self-confidence was now obliterated.
I could have been cruel, but that would only have earned me the blade. I had somehow managed thus far to remain in the king’s good countenance, and for God’s sake, I was going to remain there.
“Majesty, if I may…”
“You may, Anne.”
“Any woman who is worth anything will see that you are a charming, enigmatic man, who feels deeply and is capable of loving greatly. They will see this beyond the crown. They will love you, for you. Just as Jane did. The ones who turned you down were half-wit ninnies. ‘Tis why they were still without husbands. You should be lucky none of them will call themselves your wife. You deserve a woman of substance.”
“And Anne of Cleves shall be. That is what I’ve been promised.”
“As you say, Majesty.”
“Have you heard nothing of her?”
And here was where I lied… “Nothing at all, except what has been relayed to you. She will be quite pleasing for you.”
“Contracts have been signed. She bloody hell better be.”
We reached the door to his chambers, and he walked through, but I hesitated.
“Goodnight, my lady. Sleep well.” He turned away and began bellowing to his groomsmen to assist him with his leg.
I turned away silently and meandered down the corridor to my own chambers as his men surrounded him. A good night’s rest was what I needed, for tomorrow’s eve, I would do battle with Surrey.
November 28, 1539
What had I been thinking?
My legs shook so that I could not sit still, but neither could I stand. My fingers trembled, and from the look of my face in my handheld mirror, I was five shades paler than usual.
Footmen stood every few feet, a dozen in all, around the room. But still, I had not faced Surrey, essentially alone, in several years, and the last time, I had been nearly unconscious when I had.
His knock on the door echoed loudly and slowly through my anxiety-ridden brain. BANG! BANG! BANG! Not unlike the sounds of the cannons as they fired from the Tower.
“My lady?” a footman asked, awaiting my direction.
“Bid him enter,” I said, my voice chilled and clipped.
I did not stand, for I did not feel that Surrey deserved that from me. Instead, I sat rigid in my seat, face blank of expression, wineglass in hand. He sauntered in as if he owned the place—and considering that his cousin had sat on the throne, however short it had been, he had once been very close to ownership.
“Lady Anne.” He turned a leg and bowed low to me.
I refused to bow to him, my stomach already threatening to spill all over his boots. “Surrey. Come have some wine, eat. Tell me your news.” I did not waste any time getting to the heart of the matter. The sooner he left, the better.
Lord, how I wished I had the clean air of Wulfhall, the freedom of the grounds to race my horse at breakneck speed. ’Twas what I needed right now, solitude. But I was not to get it, not with the arrogant cad standing in front of me.
“How courteous you are,” he said sarcastically.
I ignored his negative response and continued to sip on my wine, waved the servants over to put the food on the table—roasted goose, rosemary potatoes, fresh bread and roasted carrots.
I nibbled on the food as best I could, my stomach filled with what felt like a large rock.
“Will you make me wait until you have stuffed yourself, or did you come here to give me information?” I asked, drumming my fingernails against the polished wood of the table, knowing as though Surrey only wanted to be closer to me because of how close I was to the crown, and because he’d never ridden himself of the bruised ego he thought I’d given him.
Surrey finished chewing, swirled some wine, and his eyes connected with mine. He set down his glass and reached toward me, and I inched back, but he grasped one hand in his, the other able to escape. Three of my footmen stepped forward, but I waved them back.
“Unhand me.”
“But I cannot, Anne.” His thumb stroked the top of my hand. “Do you realize that every day I see you and you are not mine, a piece of my heart is torn from my chest?”
“I have no time for deceit or mockery, Surrey. If the only reason you came here was to seek some sort of sordid relationship with me, you have come to the wrong place. I have no need to repeat any mistakes I have made in the past, no need to relive them.”
“Right you are about mistakes. I was so young, deep in my cups constantly. But I have changed since then. I have grown into a man. And yet you seek to punish me still.”
His words only served to anger me further. There were places for a man such as him, bedlam, hell, an oubliette. “There is no excuse for what you did. You are what you are, and I do not recall you being deep in your cups on several occasions.”
“Very well, then. I see we are never to be friends.” He pouted.
“Not the type of friends you seek. But ’tis beside the point. Did you have nothing else to say to me?”
Surrey looked disappointed. He shook his head slowly.
“Did not you say you had something to inform me of concerning my family?”
He shook his head, his countenance triumphant. “I said such only to get you to accept my invitation and my solicitation of your friendship. I see my tactic worked.”
I breathed out a disgusted sigh. “Typical of you, Surrey. There are plenty of women around court for you, including your wife. Do not bother me or my sister again. I bid you goodnight.”
I stood to leave, but he gripped my arm as I tried to brush by. Again, my footmen stepped forward, but I shook my head for them to let me handle it. “I said, goodnight.”
“I heard you, you vicious bitch.” His voice was low, threatening. His grip on my arm tightened, and he yanked, pulling me down. “Do not f*ck with me.” Even as he spoke, the clatter of the footmen’s boots on the floors as they rushed forward filled the air. “You and Edward are going down. See, I have a new friend. Tom and I are like this.” His fingers hooked together, and then my men were upon him.
One slammed his fist into Surrey’s jaw, while the others lifted him, lugged him to the door and literally tossed him out of our apartment.
But he would not go without final words. “I never touched your precious sister, Anne! Deceit runs rampant on wicked tongues!”
His parting words, shouted as the door closed, punched me in the gut, and I sucked in air, unable to breathe.
“Are you all right, my lady? Shall I fetch a physician?”
“I am fine.” But I was not. I was shaking. I was terrified. Had I truly been deceived by Lizzie, my mother, and Page? Did the blossom that was my sister belong so truly to the stem? Had the roots of their sordid and twisted minds wrapped their way around her young mind and heart so thoroughly that she could seek to use my weakness against me? What had been their purpose? Or was Surrey lying? I should think he was, but there was something so raw in his tone… It sparked a light of doubt in my mind.
My stomach rebelled, and the food I’d barely tasted came back up with a vengeance. I rushed to my chambers, barely having enough time to slam the door, before the contents spilled into the wash basin.
Keep your alliances close and enemies closer… My family was the enemy. And we had so many.
We were in a bad spot. Who was friend and who was foe?
And Tom, too? Surrey had said as much months and months ago, but I’d brushed aside his tales… But now he’d said it was so, yet again. What to believe?
How many enemies would we make? Our alliance had dwindled so low… Henry Courtenay and Lord Montague both dead…
I cleaned myself up, ignoring the murmurings of my men beyond my bedchamber door, and began penning letters. One to Edward to inform him of the threat, one to the Duchess of Suffolk—my most powerful female friend in our faction. Now was the time to reach out to the new Earl of Shrewsbury, as poor George had passed the year before. His son would be on our side, as his father had been.
After writing my notes, I felt more confident. Tom and Surrey might try to start trouble, but Edward and I had some big hounds on our side, too: the king, Suffolk, Elizabeth Cromwell and her new husband, Gregory Cromwell, the Lady Mary, the church, Anthony and most of the other men of the privy chamber.
Even if you tossed Catherine Parr and her hateful brother into Surrey’s ring, we could still stand strong.
A smile crept over my lips as I recalled my conversation with the king yesterday. Cromwell was the instigator in his upcoming marriage to Anne of Cleves. From what I had gathered, and I was almost certain my sources were correct, this marriage could be what toppled Cromwell to the ground—and then into it.
If Surrey could be linked to that…
Then there was my family, who’d used me so cruelly… For them alone, I would have to seek a punishment worthy of their crime, and such an action would take time on my part to plan.
December 25, 1539
“Sister, I must confess something to you on this most holy day.” Lizzie stared up at me from where she sat beside me at the trestle table for the king’s great Christmas feast.
“What is it?”
“I fear I have done you wrong. If I could take it all back, I would, I swear it.”
I set down my utensils and stared at Lizzie, my countenance void of any reaction. I had an idea of what she was about to confess—and I feared for the hearing of it. Would Surrey’s own admission come back to haunt me?
Lizzie glanced around the table. Mother and Page were deep in discussion with several other courtiers.
“Tell me now before they notice we whisper,” I urged, a false smile on my lips.
“They made me do it, Anne. They made me pretend that Lord Surrey had ill-used me.”
I nodded, squeezed her hand gently. “I had my suspicions, and I thank you for telling me.”
“You are not mad?”
I took a long sip of wine, trying to quell the burning rage inside me. Mad did not begin to describe the level of emotion surging through me.
“No, dear Lizzie. You did the right thing in coming to me.”
“All right.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “The thought of having lied to you has weighed heavily on my soul.”
“As it should. Lying is a sin.” And I was definitely a sinner.
January 10, 1540
“Anne, I’ve just come from speaking with the king,” Edward said, his countenance almost giddy.
“What about?”
“His unhappiness with Anne of Cleves.”
I smiled. Poor girl. I hoped she did not end up on the scaffold… but she had been the object of Cromwell’s plans and Cromwell had to go. Of late, he’d become more and more cocksure and had even begun to tell the king and his Privy Council what to do. He had his own objectives and sought to rule as king himself—if only behind the scenes. If anyone should do that, it should be my Edward, Uncle to the prince, the future king.
“The girl is rather drab. Not at all as his ambassadors have described her, and the painting Holbein created could be another woman altogether,” I said casually.
“Indeed. When I arrived, I asked the king how marriage fared for him. He turned a glare so fierce on me, I actually took a step back. His Majesty was enraged. He started shouting, ‘She is nothing so fair as she hath been described to me. I like her not! She reminds me of a Flanders’ mare, and her smell is worse! I have been lied to, tricked! Her brother, the Duke of Cleves, seeks to fight against the Empire and expects me to fight as well. And I will not! I want nothing to do with it. Find a way to get rid of her, annul the marriage. I have not seen fit to bed her. My cock forbids it!’”
“Oh, dear me.” I could not help but laugh. “So Cromwell, he will bear the brunt of this.”
“Oh, aye. But there is some news which shall displease you, Anne.”
“Pray continue.” I tightened my belly for the blow. I hated bad news. I turned to look out the window, hoping to catch a glimpse of something sweet.
“He has asked to be introduced to another woman.”
Oh, Dear Lord in heaven… “Who?”
“Katheryn Howard.” His voice was quiet. “Norfolk’s niece.”
I whipped around to face Edward. “No!”
His lips were pressed together in his own show of disappointment. “Yes, but believe me, we shall work it to our own end.” He could not seek her to wife after setting Anne of Cleves aside.
“You are damned right we shall. That girl is low-born and ill-bred!”
“Well put, my love. And who better to point such out than you? His Majesty favors you more than others, tell him what you think of her. And put someone else—a Seymour—under his nose.”
I recalled the young silly blonde I’d met whilst visiting the dowager duchess some years before. There’d been nothing to impress me then, besides the beauty of her face. “The silly chit will more than likely get herself into trouble, if she hasn’t already.”
“Do not worry overmuch. I am seeking to unearth the girl’s background. We shall hold a few secrets of our own. The king desires another wife, Anne. We’ve held him off long enough before Anne of Cleves, he’s not likely to follow that road again. There will be too much conflict soon among our foreign allies, and he grows moodier by the day. The rejection seems to him something more of a personal nature rather than the political, as it should be. He needs a woman—a wife—he can f*ck whenever he wants and another heir to take the tension away from him. A woman with no interest in politics, which is why, I believe, the Howard girl appeals to him.”
“Our own Anne Bassett has been doing just fine with the f*cking.” I had never been successful in finding anyone in Edward’s family more pleasing than ’Nan.
“I asked, even though I know you’d sought to find another. But since he’s already sullied her, he does not see fit to marry her. ”
“’Tis highly hypocritical.” The king once again disgusted me with his egotistical self-righteous attitude.
“I agree, but he is the king. And he had a good point. If he were to marry ’Nan, then he’d be sending another message similar to the one that went out like wildfire when he married Anne Boleyn. He wants his next wife to be virginal when they marry.”
“Is the Howard girl?”
“Not hardly, but he has no clue. She will be easily manipulated. Unless we can find someone else quick, she is a good alternative. I’m fairly certain the king has already made up his mind. I’m starting to warm to the idea myself.”
And when the king’s mind was made up, there was hardly any way to change it. “Edward, this will be dangerous. If they marry and she bears him a son, all we’ve worked for can quickly come unraveled. Besides that, from what I’ve heard, she’s worse than Anne Boleyn. Just as his marriage to Anne of Cleves is backfiring on Cromwell, his marriage to the Howard girl will backfire on anyone who supported her.”
“No, Anne. I’ve learned much from you, my cynical wife.”
“And, do tell, what pray have you learned?” I folded my hands in front of me.
“I shall work to convince him not to marry her, all while pushing him to the altar. When he looks back on it, he shall see only that I told him not to. I have become quite the master at manipulation.”
I laughed and crooked my finger at him. “Kiss me, Edward.”
“I see you are pleased,” he teased.
“Most pleased.”
Edward kissed me soundly, leaving me wanting more—but a child in the womb was not something I was even remotely interested in.
“Let us away to the great hall. There is another feast to celebrate this farce of a marriage to Anne of Cleves.”
“Let us make merry with the Flanders’ mare!”
But I also had another reason for desiring to attend the celebration. You see, revenge was so very sweet, and mine was about to come to fruition. Mother, Page and their little darling would feel the brunt of my wrath, and God willing, I should never have to deal with them for as many days as I had left to breathe on this good earth.
We entered into an unreal world.
The past two years of court life had been so full of dreariness, dank, dark, that my senses were completely assaulted when we entered the great hall. Candles were lit nearly everywhere: sconces, chandeliers, freestanding candelabras, candelabras on tables, candlesticks. It was nearly as bright as if it were a May morning, instead of an evening in the dead of winter.
The music was loud and jovial, echoing off of the stone walls. Flutes, shawms, lutes, drums! The musicians, who normally played out of the way upon the loft overhead, had meandered down to the crowd and weaved their way in and out—almost like a tournament in the great hall.
People shouted and clapped, their voices ringing out as they played at cards. In the center of the room, bordered by a circle of people—dancers! Female dancers, ladies of the court. And King Henry and his new wife, Anne of Cleves, sat upon their thrones. The latter had a peaceful smile on her face, but confusion etched about her eyes. She was not used to such goings-on. The king, however, was what drew my attention. His face was ecstatic, his pallor bright, his eyes twinkling again. I hadn’t seen him so happy since he sat upon his chair beside Jane. I followed his gaze to a pretty little blonde, front and center, who danced and swung her hips. She smiled winningly at the king with each twirl—teasing him, inviting him.
So it was true about the Howard girl, for she looked like a Howard, and just like the girl I had met some years before. Katheryn. Almond-shaped eyes, creamy skin—she and Mary Boleyn could have been sisters, more so than Mary and Anne. The only difference was Mary’s look was more innocent, pure enthusiasm, whereas Katheryn’s was Anne’s seduction. A perfect combination of them both—no wonder the king was enamored. Would he sleep his way through the Howard family?
“Look Edward, there she is.” I nodded my head toward the dancers.
We walked in slowly, inclining our heads in greeting to several courtiers. I followed the crowd, seeking out my relations, and spotted them, the three of them, clustered together and, in fact, having a heated discussion. A cruel smile formed on my lips.
I glanced toward Edward in time to see his gaze fall on Katheryn Howard. “Working her charms already.”
“I best make friends with the new queen. She looks lonesome.”
“The Lady Mary is with her.”
As he spoke it, Mary Tudor walked up beside her new stepmother and placed her hand on her arm. Queen Anne inclined her head and smiled sweetly. Those two would be good friends—they were only a few months apart in age as it was. I was also surprised to see little Elizabeth, the king’s second daughter, was in attendance. She sat on the step of the dais by her stepmother’s feet, a pretty little red-haired thing, of six years. She toyed with her long red locks, curling them around her finger. From afar she had the look of a Tudor—reminiscent of the king’s sisters—but up close, she had her mother’s eyes. Dark, sharp, intelligent. She would be a formidable woman one day, unless some man was able to take her in hand.
“Let us go and greet Their Majesties,” Edward whispered. “And then you shall make your acquaintance with the young Howard girl.”
I nodded as we made our way forward. I spotted Anne Bassett in a corner, where she sulked. It was best I implore King Henry for a match for the girl soon. She’d been thoroughly used up and, thank God, Anthony and myself had both provided her with the information long ago that she needed to keep herself from becoming with child. Then again, she’d held the king’s fancy for so long, I might have to let her suffer a bit longer.
“Majesty,” Edward said, and I followed suit as he bowed and I made a low curtsy.
“Edward and Anne!” the king exclaimed, his gaze momentarily jolted from the fifteen-year-old Katheryn Howard.
“My Lord Hertford, Countess,” Queen Anne said in her thick, German accent. “How good to see you again.”
She looked genuinely pleased. If only the king had not had so many complaints about Anne, and there weren’t so many political reasons to get rid of her… She was rather sweet, despite her long, dour face.
“Edward, come, I must have speech with you,” the king said. He stood and bowed to his queen and daughters and then to me.
Once he’d gone, and I must say I was entirely burning with curiosity for what he had to say to Edward, I turned to curtsy to the queen and bid Lady Mary a good eve.
“Are you enjoying England, Majesty?”
I glanced toward my mother. She and Sir Richard still appeared highly agitated, and the little vixen looked worried. Good.
Anne of Cleves laughed a little, pulling me back to her. “From what I’ve seen so far, ’tis a beautiful country.” She leaned down as if to speak to me in confidence. “I like it much more than I do my own country. They are so, what you say? Stuffy? Yes, stuffy, where I come from.”
I could not help but smile at her words. Lady Mary laughed as well.
“Stuffy? How so?” Mary asked.
“For instance, my brother would not allow anyone to see me or my sister, and then only with a veil. We do not play cards at court. We do not dance. There is not much laughter or music. Not like here. Here, ’tis like a celebration every day.”
“’Tis because we are so pleased to have you here, Majesty,” I said.
Lady Mary nodded. “I think we shall be very close.”
“I pray such is the case,” Anne of Cleves said. “But—”
She cut herself short, and Mary and I both exchanged a glance.
“What is it, Your Grace?” Mary inquired softly.
“I do not think the king is pleased with me. I am afraid… afraid of what might happen to me,” she whispered.
“Why? You are most pleasing, I assure you! Do not even speak of it,” Mary said incredulously, her hands coming to her throat. Horror shone in her eyes, and I could almost see her thoughts, her visions of sweet German Anne standing on the scaffold.
Anne of Cleves looked taken aback, nervous. Regret shimmered in her eyes for having whispered the words.
I took her hand in mine and squeezed gently before letting go. It was a bold move to make, but since I fully intended to be as close with her as Mary was, it was the right move—even after she was gone from the throne, she would be a useful ally to have had. Queen Anne squeezed back.
“Majesty, if I may?” I said quietly.
“Yes?”
“Do as the king wishes. For your happiness, and… safety.” It was the only piece of advice I could give her, and most likely when the time came, if she followed it, it would save her life, for after speaking with Edward, I could already see this marriage would end one way or another, and I hoped it was with Anne of Cleves walking away alive.
Just then a great commotion filled the center of the great hall—and right in the thick of it was my mother, Page and Lizzie.
“What is this?” the queen mused, worry etching the corners of her eyes.
I looked on, silent.
Mary spoke, “Lady Anne, is that not your mother?”
“Aye, ’tis,” was all I offered.
The king’s guard filed into the hall and surrounded my family. A twinge of regret filled my chest, but I could not allow such feelings to take root. They had used me cruelly. They had played on my insecurity and, worst of all, their ruse had fooled me utterly.
“Sir Richard Page, you, your wife and your daughter, Lizzie, are hereby arrested in the name of the king!” a guard announced.
Page’s eyes, sharp as a hawk, flicked toward mine. I answered with a smile, one that was just as mean-hearted as the ones he’d flashed me often enough. He would know I’d done this to them. He would know that I had not taken kindly to being made a mockery of.
“On what charge?” Page shouted. My mother and young sister wrung their hands together, my sister with tears running over her cheeks.
“Treason.”
Three days later
At my suggestion, my dear sister had been given over to Lord Surrey, who would now be her guardian, and she would serve as a lady’s maid to his wife.
My mother and Page had once again been stripped of their titles, exiled from England and have ceased to exist to me, slinking back into whatever hole they’d curled up into when last they’d been banished from court.
Although absolved of the false charges against them, the king had had much reason to suspect that they would indeed try their hand at their machinations again and thus had thought it best for them to leave the country, or suffer death.
I had been quite careful in preparing the case against them, intercepting letters here and there that were perfectly harmless but could be used against them. Snatching snippets of conversation and paying witnesses of such conversations to say they’d heard them—a simple matter of misconstruing facts, for weren’t such misunderstandings the basis for which assumptions were created?
I must say I’d truly hoped Edward would find them guilty, but believing me to be upset by their arrest, he’d found enough to question their guilt, and so the exile. No matter, I had established my place once more and never should the likes of Sir Richard Page or my mother bother me again. And, if I was lucky, placing Elizabeth in Surrey’s house, while he might not have defiled her before, he would attempt to, I have no doubt.