“Dreaming you were home at Hever, I suppose. Well, you had best stay closer in the future. As it is, both father and I wish to speak with you.”
A tiny knot twisted in Mary’s stomach. She and her father had hardly been on speaking terms this last year since she had argued with him about his secret visits to her son at Hatfield. He had even taken to sending Cromwell as go-between if he wished to ask her a question or give an order.
“Sit here on the bed, sister,” Anne motioned with a slender jeweled hand. “I get rather dizzy with everyone standing about or moving around the room all the time.”
Mary sat gently on the foot of the bed. Anne’s body had fully healed from her miscarriage, but she seemed unwilling to rise from her bed despite what the doctors said.
“First, I would have some of the truth, and I know I will not get it from the simpering faces around me. Jane Rochford tells me—at my insistence—that my husband the king has been visiting others at night. I know that if he is seeing them at night, he is bedding them. I have long known there are various court ladies who are greedy little sluts enough to let him do as he will. Is that true, what Jane says? Is it come to that already? Tell me, Mary, for I would know. Cromwell, father and George are lying to me. Is it true?”
“I seldom see the king, sister, as you know. And I am not there to see...”
“Is it true, Mary? You may not be there but Stafford is about, and I know you two still see each other. Well?”
Mary held her breath, then let the words out in a rush. “I have heard that your information is correct, Your Grace.”
“Then I must arise and get my strength back. Father is planning something drastic and it does not include me. I must get my looks and laughter back and then we shall see who holds this king! I can conceive again, Mary. This child was ill-formed and it was not my fault. They whisper I am the cause of it, but it is not—it cannot—be true. They say I bewitched him and my sixth tiny finger shows that I am a witch!” Her voice broke and Mary pressed her thin hand between her own.
“Who has told you these vile rumors, Anne? Jane Rochford?”
Ignoring her question and comforting touch, Anne plunged on, “The Boleyns have fine healthy children like Elizabeth, like your Henry and Catherine. I shall have another—a boy!” The queen struggled to the edge of the bed and dangled her legs still under the sheets. “No, get back all of you and leave us for a while. My sister will help me. Rochford and Lady Wingfield may stay. Everyone else, leave me!
“Here, Mary, let me lean on you. In a week I shall be back with him and there shall be no more fly-by-night whores in his bed. I shall get the names and if any of them are my ladies, they will be banished.” Anne’s eyes refocused on Mary’s worried face and she seemed to calm somewhat. “Here now, sister, I had something to tell you of your little Harry. His Grace is sending Elizabeth in style with a full household of her own to be raised at Hatfield, so Henry Fitzroy and your son will be sent elsewhere for their tutoring.”
Anne rose with Mary’s help and walked a few unsteady steps. “Really, Mary, do not look so distraught. You must not expect the lad to stay with Fitzroy much longer anyway, since Bessie Blount’s illegitimate son is older and should be sent to the law courts soon. Your Harry is only nephew to the king by marriage.”
“Yes, Your Grace, I understand. Where will he be sent?”
“I am not certain. Cromwell is deciding a good place. I cannot fathom that I could feel so exhausted from but a few steps.”
“Cromwell? Cannot you decide, Your Grace?”
“Yes, of course the final decision is mine. Cromwell only works for me, you know.”
“Rather like, he serves the king,” Mary replied before she could stop her thoughts.
“And what do you imply by that? Help me back to bed. I do not wish to have your pious lectures about anything, including that the little bastard Mary Tudor should be allowed to visit her Spanish mother. She must be made to serve as Elizabeth’s handmaid and companion. Do not look so grieved. It will be a good lesson to her. She and her wretched mother must learn who is queen and who is only princess of the realm now. I could also appoint your Catherine to live at Hatfield since the Duchess of Suffolk has been so ill and at Westhorpe unable to return to court. Elizabeth should have her little cousin with her. You would like little Catherine to be well provided for, would you not?”