“In the circumstances,” the Cardinal went on, “it was rash of Lord Percy to promise himself to you. He must have known that his father would not approve.”
“Harry is an honest man!” Anne cried. “I do not believe he would have gone so far if he was betrothed to another.” But she was remembering his haste to plight his troth to her. Had he naively thought that it could cancel out his earlier precontract?
“You should know, Mistress Anne, that I have discussed the matter with the King, and he is very angry at your presumption. It is his prerogative to consent to the marriages of his nobility.”
Anne said nothing. What could she say? If the King had spoken against them, then all was lost. Her world was falling apart around her, and all that was left was a bleak future in which Harry had no part.
“I spoke to Lord Percy,” the Cardinal said. “I conveyed the King’s displeasure.”
She could imagine it. She only hoped that Harry had given a good account of himself.
Wolsey shifted heavily on his feet and fixed his bleary gaze on her. “It is coming to something, Mistress Anne, when the heir to a great earldom thinks he can with impunity betroth himself to some foolish girl yonder in the court, and so I told the young half-wit.”
Anne seethed to hear herself described as foolish, and in public. How dare he! But Wolsey remained oblivious to her anger.
“I told him I marveled at his folly in so offending His Grace, and I sent for his father, the Earl, who naturally was scandalized and warned the willful boy that if he did not break this unadvised contract, he would disinherit him forever.”
That might explain why Harry had gone to see the Bishop of London—or, given that he had not wanted Wolsey to find out, possibly Harry had hoped that the Bishop would find their betrothal good and valid. But of course he had not, he had not…
“Are you listening to me, girl?” Wolsey barked. “I said that the King’s Majesty will complain to your father of you, and require him to ensure that you behave yourself in future.”
That would be rich, she thought, coming from a man who had committed rape.
“How have I misbehaved myself?” she asked. “I have conducted myself with propriety. I knew of no prior betrothal. I had no doubt that my father would approve such a match.”
“Oh, indeed he would!” Wolsey sneered. “But His Highness intends to marry you to another person, with whom he is already in negotiations. I understand that the matter is almost concluded.”
“Who?” Anne cried. “Not James Butler?”
“I am not at liberty to say, Mistress Anne. But I do not doubt, if you know what is good for you, that you will be glad of it, and agreeable to what the King arranges.”
“But I gave my promise to Harry!”
Wolsey’s eyes narrowed. “Think you that the King and I know not what we have to do in as weighty a matter as this? Rest assured, you will not see Lord Percy again. He has been commanded in the King’s name not to resort to your company, on pain of His Grace’s high indignation, and he is to be married to Lady Mary Talbot as soon as it can be arranged. Now be a sensible girl and accept it.”
“But the Queen approved it! She encouraged us!” Anne was frantic.
“The Queen has no power in such matters.” The Cardinal sighed. “Mistress Anne, you are proving tiresome, and I have pressing business to attend to. It is the King’s command that you leave the court, and go home for a season.”
“No!” Anne protested. “That is grossly unfair!”
“Are you criticizing His Grace’s judgment?” Wolsey’s eyes were like steel. “Now go.”
“You have not heard the last of me, my Lord Cardinal!” Anne cried, caution abandoned in her fury, as a hundred faces turned and gaped.
—
Anne could not have said how she got back to Greenwich. She was too consumed with hatred for the Cardinal and the King for breaking her betrothal and ruining her life. They had not even allowed Harry a chance to say farewell to her. What rankled almost as much was the malicious, contemptuous way Wolsey had spoken to her. It was his revenge, no doubt, for her family having always looked on him with contempt for the upstart he was. How dare he call her a foolish girl! How dare he imply that she was unfit to mate with a Percy! This was not the King’s doing so much as Wolsey’s. As for the marriage that His Grace was supposed to be planning for her, she did not believe there was one. It was just a ploy to keep her quiet.
Of losing her beloved Harry she dared not think, for that way lay madness. To have had all within her grasp and to have lost it in an instant was more than cruel. Never again to see that beloved face, feel those warm lips on hers, those loving arms around her…He had been the one man she could love, the essence of all that was good in his sex. She would never find another like him. No one would love her like he did. When she thought of all their plans, the bright future that would never happen…It was more than she could take. A great waterfall of tears was welling.
She had not been missed. It was easy to slip upstairs to the dorter, throw herself on her bed and give way to her grief, weeping her heart out and emitting pitiful cries.
She did not realize anyone had entered the room until a gentle hand touched her shoulder. The Queen herself was standing there with a look of such compassion that Anne’s tears fell even faster. Remembering herself, she started to rise, but Katherine bade her stay where she was.
“Tell me what has happened,” she said, sitting on the stool by the bed and taking Anne’s hand.
“I am ordered home to Hever, your Grace,” Anne whispered.
“But why?”
“Your Grace will be angry with me if I tell you.” Anne sniffed, choking back tears.
“Your welfare is my concern. You are my maid and I am responsible for you. If aught goes amiss with you, it reflects on me too.”
Anne knew she must tell the Queen the truth, however hard it was. She sat up, composed herself, and said, “Well then, madam, I see I have been very foolish. I entered into a precontract with Harry Percy.”
Katherine looked startled. “Did your parents know?”
“No, madam. We are in love. We did not think they would disapprove.”
The Queen frowned. “That was indeed foolish, Mistress Anne. You should know that a precontract is as binding as a marriage, and that you should both have had your parents’ permission—and the King’s.”
“I know, I know all that.” Anne could not hold back another sob. “Madam, we did not mean to offend the King, and maybe they would all have been happy with the match, but the Cardinal said no. He called me a foolish girl! And then it turns out that Harry has been betrothed for years to the Earl of Shrewsbury’s daughter. They have packed him off up north to marry her. And I am commanded to leave court!” She wrung the Queen’s hand. “Your Grace, I cannot lose Harry—I love him more than life itself—and I do not want to leave your service. Oh what am I to do?” She buried her head in her hands, her shoulders heaving.
“I will speak to the King,” Katherine said. “But I cannot promise that it will do any good.”