Chapter 3
Anne, Queen Katherine and the King
Those were happy days, happy days for all of us Boleyns, as we settled into the routine of life at the English Court. I was appointed companion to Princess Mary, and became close friends with her other childhood companions: Frances, Eleanor and Henry Brandon, son and daughters of His Majesty's sister, the Dowager Queen of France.
Anne and Mary joined Queen Katherine's household, and were accepted, though perhaps not given a warm welcome.
In October, George was married, on our uncle's orders, to Jane Parker, a woman all we younger Boleyns despised, but who had valuable family connections. I was maid of honour, and Anne was chief bridesmaid.
The King presented George with the manors of Grimston, a fine place in our uncle's dukedom, Norfolk, and Rochford Hall in Essex.
He also danced with Anne several times, and no-one could blame him. Clad as she was in her gown of pale green velvet edged with silver thread, she outshone any other lady in the room, or at least, she did in my eyes, though, naturally, I was biased.
****
Over the next few days and weeks, the admiring glances Anne had drawn from her many admirers before this began coming from the King. He sent her dishes at supper, and trinkets arrived in our rooms, grand, expensive trinkets that could only have been of royal origin. I was spellbound by their beauty, and wondered how my sister's head could not be turned by these marvellous gifts.
Anne, however, truly seemed immune to the King's romantic behaviour, for no sooner were George and Jane Parker formally wedded and bedded, than she began encouraging the attentions of our distant cousin, Thomas Wyatt.
I couldn't understand it. If I had been but 3 or 4 years older than I was, if it had been me in her place, I would have been rushing headlong towards His Majesty, for I had fallen head over heels in love with him.
"Would you now?" Anne asked me, her mouth quirking upwards in a smile of amusement and satisfaction.
"Yes!" I took off her French hood, and freed her hair to brush it for her, as I did every day. She loved my gentle touch as I did it, and, to be honest, I loved doing it. It was the only time of day I had her solely to myself, for captivating as she was, a flock of entranced courtiers surrounded her at all other times. Besides, I had my duties as a companion to fulfil as well. I couldn't very well just trot around after my sister like a little dog.
"Ah, but Eleanor, that would cool his interest, you see. He's a man above all else, and a sporting one at that. He enjoys the passion of the chase. Be too easy to catch, and you'll be too dull for him." Anne glanced up and her dark eyes met my deep blue ones.
"Entrap a man by all means, but if he realises it, you're stuck. The trick is not just to spin your web around him, but to do it in such a manner that he honestly believes he is pursuing you – not the other way around. That, my dear sister, is the art of being a woman." Anne closed her eyes in contentment as I continued to sweep the heavy, silver backed brush through her rich dark hair, my mind in turmoil. Surely it was better to become the King's mistress, to enjoy his favour, than it was to ignore it, and risk him transferring his affections to another woman?
When I voiced these suspicions to Anne, however, she leapt to her feet, and seized my arm in a grip of steel.
"Hush, Eleanor! You know not what you say! You're a child, that's all. Nothing more and nothing less. Those are the words of a child. Now, sweetheart, I happen to be a woman reared in the French Court, so I understand men. As you do not, you will leave me to play this game my way, and you will keep your mouth shut! Do you understand?"
Desperate for her love, her tenderness, her fondness, I nodded.
"Good girl. Now go on, or you'll be late with your lesson with Princess Mary." Anne kissed me goodbye, sisterly and tender once more.
****
I kept my mouth shut, but my eyes peeled. I watched Anne like a hawk, watched how she all but ignored the King, openly preferring the attention and courtship of our married cousin Thomas, who wrote her poem after poem, and who sent her notes, sweetmeats, even a paltry gift or two. I noticed how, if His Majesty deliberately engaged her in a conversation that she could not avoid, she used her swift brain to her advantage, and entrapped him with her clever wordplay, before taking her leave. She seemed outwardly polite and courteous all the time. Not even I, in those early days, guessed that she was playing for the highest price of all.
One morning, Anne was in the corridors of Greenwich Palace, when she crossed paths with His Majesty and Queen Katherine. I do not know what she said to them, but that very afternoon, instead of being shut up in the schoolroom with Princess Mary, I found myself in the woods, cantering along a thickly overgrown path, hunting with the King. Anne was ahead of me, beside His Majesty, while Mary and George lagged behind us.
Suddenly, a movement in the bushes caught my eye. Without further ado, I swung my bow off my shoulder, notched an arrow, and let fly.
There was a deathly shriek, and then silence.
"Oh, good shot, Eleanor!" George cried, drawing rein, dismounting, and fetching my first prey from the shrubbery for me. It was a reasonably sized rabbit, brown in colour, with a thick fur.
"Thank you, brother." I replied, as Anne and the King also checked their horses, looking back to see what was going on. George held up my rabbit for the King's inspection.
"My sister shot it, Sire. Is she not indeed a natural?"
"Aye, it's a fine rabbit, to be sure. Well done, Lady Eleanor." King Henry glanced approvingly at me.
"Thank you, my lord." It was of course impossible to curtsey to him while I was in the saddle, but I could, and did, incline my head to show I acknowledged his praise.
"Let's ride on!" he snapped suddenly, reminded that he had not got the first prey of the hunt. As the King dug his heels into the horse's sides, George scrambled back up on to his horse, and flashed me a comforting smile, because my face fell as Anne barely spared my rabbit a fleeting look, before galloping on.
"Henry just likes to be the victor. When he gets the stag he's looking for, he'll be fine about your shot. Don't worry, Eleanor, Anne's proud of you really, she just hasn't time to show it." Mary whispered kindly, before spurring her horse onwards. Blinking back tears, I followed.
****
That evening, when we returned to Greenwich, the surrounding woods were two rabbits, a stag and a doe worse off. The King, joyfully flushed with the success of the hunt, led us Boleyns back to Queen Katherine's rooms at a run.
The Queen was there, placidly sewing away at yet another altar cloth, and so was Princess Mary, playing the lute for her mother. I hurriedly seated myself on a stool near her.
The King clapped when she had finished, but then looked round for other sources of entertainment.
Winking at me, Anne offered to sing for him, and promptly launched into the song we had sung together on the journey to Court.
"The
ash grove, how graceful, how plainly tis speaking,
the harp wind
through it playing has language for me.
Whenever the light through
its branches is breaking
a host of kind faces is gazing on me.
The
friends of my childhood again are before me,
each step wakes a
memory as freely I roam.
With soft whispers laden its leaves
rustle o'er me,
the ash grove, the ash grove again alone is my
home."
As I had done then, I raised my voice to meet with hers, and the King was awestruck. He listened in silence, and once we had ended our duet, he strode out of the room without so much as a farewell to either his wife or his daughter.
Anne made to follow him, but the Queen detained her.
"Mademoiselle Boleyn, do not think I do not pay heed to what you are doing." Her voice was as hard as nails, and her steady gaze outmatched even my sister's.
"You seek to charm the King away from my bed and into yours. Well, I warn you, Anne Boleyn, he is my boy, and he will always be my boy, wherever he is, whatever he is doing. Remember that."
Anne curtsied silently, before sweeping from Queen Katherine's chambers as though she owned half the palace. I followed hastily.
"What are you going to do? About Queen Katherine, I mean?" I asked worriedly. Would all our hard work now be undone?
Once again, I had underestimated Anne's determination. She whirled around to face me, posture erect, jaw set, dark eyes flashing.
"I'm going to prove her wrong. I'm going to make him marry me. I'm going to set Katherine aside, and take her crown.
And if you so much as breathe a word to anyone, I will kill you!"
With that, Anne spun on her heel, and marched away, leaving me to stare after her retreating back wordlessly.
She wouldn't really do it.
Would she?
AN: Thank you for all the reviews! They really make my day, and I'm sorry it's taken longer this time, but I ended up with a mild case of writer's block. I'm still not perfectly happy with this, but at least Anne's temper and determination has now made an appearance!
Read and review, IF you please!
