At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn (6 page)

“I am stuffed as a peacock. Let us do something to ease our bellies,” said Madge as she and Cate entered their room.

“I think we should practice your dancing—my word, how the lords and ladies leapt and frolicked! Such movements are not easy—and last time we tried it, you fell flat on your…” said Cate.

“You do not have to remind me!” said Madge. “Did you notice a new dance this eve? I am not sure of its name but the gentlemen had to be quite strong, methinks, to accomplish such feats,” said Madge.

“As I have observed them, Maddie-girl, the gentleman places his hand like so upon your waist and then turns you about, thus,” said Cate as she tried to partner Madge in the galliard. “And then, you leap and I shall lift you into the air—go on, leap!”

Madge did as she was told, but Cate could not hold her and they both fell in a heap onto the floor.

“I shall never learn! It is hopeless,” said Madge, laughing at the sight of them covered with rushes and Shadow’s kisses.

“Laugh all you will—we shall try again,” said Cate. “May I have this dance?”

Madge burst out again, unable to restrain herself. Both women collapsed, falling together onto the cot.

“I shall never fit in at court—oh Cate, you do provoke me—I knew not you had such fun in you!” said Madge, holding her sides.

“You
shall
fit, Maddie! I’ll
make
you fit!” roared Cate.

Eight

“Quickly Cate! The queen awaits us!” said Madge as Shadow scampered on her leather leash decorated with daisies and violets from halter to handle. “Oh, do hurry!”

“Ready—how do I look?” said Cate as she smoothed her saucy new dress of blue satin.

“Lovely, dear Cate. And how look I?” said Madge as she twirled around in her own gown of green silk edged in cloth of gold.

“Perfect to go a-Maying. You’re as pretty as any flower, my Maddie. Take care though. May Day is the day for romance—you might fall into Love’s deepest trap!” said Cate.

“I’m not ready for such as that, but I do want to see the queen happy and at play. We have had much trouble these last weeks, too much arguing betwixt king and queen. She is looking forward to this day, where she can frolic with the king to her heart’s delight. And she will bring a return of his good humor,” said Madge as she pulled at Shadow to follow her down the corridor and to the open grounds where stood a large maypole surrounded by ladies in pale shades of silks and satins. Behind the ladies, the king’s men told stories of a ribald sort, so Madge imagined. She watched as they slapped backs, laughing with sly glances cast to the queen’s ladies. On the outer rings of the crowd circling the maypole stood the lower folks—cooks and washwomen, grooms and stable boys, even the lowly milkmaids and pig boys—all looking clean and bright, happy to have a day of gaming and dancing.

Madge and Cate joined the knot of women waiting for the queen. Mistress Jane Seymour was there, standing alone as usual.

“Good morrow, Jane. You look lovely in your pink,” said Madge as she curtsied simultaneously with Miss Seymour. Cate dipped much lower and said nothing.

“Thank you, Lady Margaret,” said Jane. She was a plain woman only a few years older than Madge and she usually looked miserable. Her pale blue eyes sought the ground most times and her dour little mouth drooped at the corners, even when she smiled. Not many of the men noticed her and she seemed lonely except when her brothers were around.

“Do you look forward to spinning the spider’s web today, mistress?” said Madge, hoping to draw the unhappy Jane into the spirit of the day.

“No, Lady. Such frivolity seems an unfortunate display when the queen suffers at Ampthill,” said Jane, who then turned her back on Madge and gave a little cough.

“But the queen is here, Lady Jane. Queen Anne is right here and soon to join us,” said Madge, whirling Jane around to face her, grabbing her by the elbow. Madge smiled a little to take the sting from her words, but there was no returning smile from Lady Jane.

“Please remove your hand from my person, Lady Margaret. It is unseemly,” Jane said and once again turned her back to Madge.

“Come, Maddie. I think the queen and king approacheth. This way to have a better look,” said Cate as she gently led Madge away from Lady Jane.

“Who does she think she is to talk so at the very court where she serves the queen? And when I touched her, you’d have thought she’d come into contact with something loathsome,” said Madge.

“Maddie, her family is noble and much older than the Boleyn clan. The court has so many factions, it is hard to keep them all straight but the more I listen, the more I see one for certain—the old nobility cares not a whit for the young people Henry and Anne have invited to court. The youngbloods have the king’s ear and he hardly pays heed to what the Seymours or even the duke of Norfolk has to say. He likes the beauty and energy of youth around him. He likes the new learning and the new religion. Some cling to the old while others embrace the new—it has always been so, methinks,” said Cate as she pulled Madge to the walkway where the king and queen would appear.

“She thinks she’s my better, then. And all I wanted was to be friendly. Well, I won’t try that again,” said Madge, bending to pet Shadow and replace a daisy that had fallen off her leash.

“Just because Lady Jane is ill-mannered, you don’t have to join her in it. The best way to get along is to be kind to all God’s creatures. Try to forgive the poor girl. She has enough to fret her—with her woebegone looks, I can’t imagine what kind of marriage she will make—if any,” said Cate.

At that moment, the horns blared and the king, with the queen happily on his arm, strode into the yard. The men bowed and the ladies curtsied. Shouts of “Long live the king! Long live the queen!” rose as the happy couple advanced to the maypole.

The king stopped at the maypole and grabbed the queen’s hand, raising their clasped hands into the air. “My good people, today we go a-Maying. It is the time for the grasses to bloom and the crops to begin. The time for nesting and mating. I already have my sweetheart, as you can see! And she is on the nest proud as any robin.” He patted Anne’s belly in front of everyone. Madge could see her cousin blush, then smile as the courtiers laughed. “But as for those who have no lover, find her in the weaving of the ribbons and garlands! Let the circling begin!”

With that, the musicians began to play a lively tune. Madge noticed the lead musician, the one playing the lute, was extremely handsome. His hair was the color of burnished gold and his eyes reminded her of the does she’d seen at home—long thick lashes and enormous soft brown eyes.

“Who is that handsome singer? I have never seen such a pretty man,” whispered Madge into Cate’s ear.

“I am not certain but methinks ’tis Master Mark Smeaton—he is one of the most talented at court, so the women have said. Aye, he has the looks of a god—but he is common-born so do not think of such as he. The queen will match you, have no fear,” Cate said quietly.

As the music played, courtiers hurried to grab hold of one of the ribbons with which to circle the maypole. As the men wove one way, the women wove the opposite. Madge was one of the last to grab a garland and she wasn’t sure which direction to go until she felt a hand on her waist.

“Ah, my lovely Lady Margaret! I was hoping you’d pick up a strand. This way,” said Sir Henry Norris as he ushered her to follow the other women. His thin, dark blond hair blew back to reveal a high, glistening crown of a head and his narrow blue eyes leered at Madge. He was older than she, in his early thirties, she guessed, with a sheen of sweat always covering his face and hands. His voice oiled its way into her ears and made her shiver with disgust.

“I hope as the strings wrap ’round, I shall meet up with you, my lovely lady,” he whispered to her as they passed each other.

“Why?” Madge said.

“When the music stops, you must kiss the one you face, dear lady. And I’ve thought of nothing else since I first saw your lovely lips,” Sir Norris said.

Madge spoke not a word but tried to smile at him. Cate’s words about kindness had gone to her heart. But she couldn’t stand the thought of him kissing her. The music kept going, faster and faster until the young people were spinning around the maypole, tripping over one another and laughing.

“So sorry,” said Madge as she stepped on someone’s foot. Her head was spinning and the sun bore down on her, making her even dizzier.

“Oh, you may step upon my foot anytime, Lady Margaret. Better you than fat Bessie Henshaw,” said a familiar voice. Madge looked up into Arthur Brandon’s face. His brown eyes always seemed to be laughing at her, but he smiled kindly.

“Sir Churlish—I’m surprised to see you here. I thought only the true nobles would be at court today,” said Madge.

“I’m a natural noble, m’lady. Are you trying to hurt me? Because if you are, such taunts do not work. I’ve heard the like most of my life. Besides, nothing could bother me on a day such as today,” Arthur said.

“I do not care enough for you one way or the other to try to hurt you, sir. Why is today so jolly?” said Madge.

“Because the music has stopped and I’m facing the loveliest lips at court,” Arthur said. With that, he grabbed Madge around her waist, pulled her to him, and kissed her full on the mouth. When he let her go, the music had started again with instructions from the king to unwind the mess they had made.

Madge dropped her ribbon and extracted herself from the crowd of young people twisting around the pole. Her face flamed and she was so angry her heart beat hard in her chest. She hurried to Cate where she picked up Shadow’s leash and stalked off in the direction of the rose gardens.

“My lady, what is wrong? Maddie? Where are you going? Maddie?” Cate called but Madge made no answer. She continued on her way.

The hedges gave a little shade as Madge and Shadow headed for their favorite bench. Madge could not believe the impertinence of Arthur—to kiss her like that in front of all the court—without her permission! Of course, she did realize that all the court was kissing, too, and probably didn’t notice one thing Lady Margaret Shelton was doing. She laughed a little at her vanity—no one cared what Lady Margaret did or didn’t do. She was a poor cousin of the queen, here only at the queen’s request.

“Something amuses you?” Sir Thomas Wyatt seemed to appear from nowhere.

“Oh, Tom. The most terrible thing happened at the May,” said Madge, relieved it was her friend.

“What could be so terrible? It is a day for dancing and making eyes at everyone,” he said.

“But you weren’t there, Tom. Why?” Madge said.

“I am married, my girl—you know that. And not to one of my liking. So, I decided to spend a few quiet moments gathering my thoughts and writing a poem,” Thomas said.

“Dear Tom. You are so kind and good. I am sorry you cannot find happiness in your wife. Such a case is very sad indeed. But perhaps writing a poem can ease your pains,” said Madge.

“Enough of that. Why are you so blushed and out of breath?” Thomas said.

“Sir Churlish! He had the very nerve to kiss me at the May!” said Madge.

“Sir Churlish? And who, may I ask, is that?” said Thomas.

Madge turned a deeper shade of red. She hadn’t meant her pet name for Arthur to slip out.

“Just a rogue I met on my very first day in London. And he hasn’t let me alone since. His name is Arthur Brandon and he’s a … well, he’s a bastard,” said Madge.

“I know Arthur well, dear lady. He’s the natural son of Sir Charles Brandon and a finer man you’ll not find. He’s honest and hardworking. Seems he’s one who can’t be bought and doesn’t care a goatshead for who is what at court. He is the son of Sir Charles’s youth before Sir Charles was married to the king’s sister,” said Thomas.

“I don’t care what you say about him—he’s not much more than a brute!” said Madge as she sat on a nearby bench. Shadow hopped up to join her.

“Don’t let such things upset you, Lady Margaret. On the May, it is expected that kisses will go round the maypole along with the ribbons,” said Thomas, smiling.

Madge breathed easier. She was glad to hear good words about Sir Churlish, even though she wasn’t sure she believed them. And she was happy to find her friend.

“Well, at least it wasn’t Henry Norris who kissed me!” Madge said.

“That
is
something to be thankful for—that rake is one I’d never want to kiss,” laughed Thomas.

“I should hope not, sir!” said Madge, laughing, too. “Will you be at the coronation next month? I shall be riding with the queen. It’s all so exciting! And Her Majesty has sent bolts and bolts of silks and satins for at least four new dresses! She’s even promised me a necklace for each dress—I can hardly wait for the festivities!” said Madge.

“I fear I shall not be there. I’m being sent to France for some business,” said Thomas.

“France! Oh no, what shall I do without you? You are my only friend,” said Madge.

“You will take the greatest care, lady. And become more friendly with the queen. If she is fully in your corner, you will be safe once she delivers the young prince,” said Thomas.

“Safe. Yes, that’s what I’d like—to be safe and back home,” said Madge.

Nine

The few days before Queen Anne’s coronation were filled with excitement as the entire city of London hurried to prepare for the second coronation of an English queen in less than thirty years. Many in the city went about their tasks with less than enthusiastic faces and there were murmurs against the “goggle-eyed whore” who had bewitched the king and placed good Queen Catherine in banishment. But Madge saw little of the disgruntlement. Instead, she was called to the queen’s privy chambers early Friday morning.

As Madge went through the outer apartments of the queen’s side, she noted how many new dresses adorned the ladies of the court. The queen had about one hundred ladies with only ten who cared for her person and were allowed into her privy chamber and inner bedchamber. Most of these were older, wiser women than Madge, though Madge had dreamed about serving the queen in this way. She admired the lush wall hangings and tapestries that adorned the walls of the queen’s apartments. The painted cloth of her own room suddenly seemed tawdry, though when she’d first arrived at court, she’d thought it quite splendid. She was glad she’d left Shadow with Cate, for the king had just banned all dogs from court with the exception of women’s lapdogs. Shadow was still a puppy and could fit on a lap but she would not do so for long. Poor Shadow. Madge hoped to ask, if it please the queen, for Shadow to stay.