Chapter Eight
Mary sat in the tranquil quietness of her room for the remainder of the evening. She had sent word that she was too ill to attend the feasting dinner tonight and had opted instead to read Utopia from Thomas More. Indeed it was a gift he had sent her the other day from the dreary loneliness of his home at The More.
Well perhaps it wasn't completely lonely. He did have his family to comfort him after his fall from favour with the king. Thinking about such injustice made her angry and she found herself clutching the book more tightly than she had anticipated.
But that wasn't the only thing that had sent her mood into perils of strange delirium from conflicting emotions. It was the little note she had received from one of the servants in the Boleyn gentry. A note from George requesting a private audience with her tonight after the king had finished dining.
She was expected to reply as soon as possible and indeed she did. Worrying thoughts had gnawed at her for days thinking that he was going to abandon her to suffer this ordeal by herself and it only increased her bouts of nausea and vomiting. George was due to arrive at the end of the hour hopefully to discuss the best course of action.
Everything depended on his decision and she did feel a little bit of relief knowing that she had been right to give him some space and let him think. Self-consciously her hand reached down to touch her stomach to feel the firm small bulge that was blossoming under her stomacher. A deep frown slightly marred the delicate contours of her face when she thought of her burden.
She still refused to think of it as another living being that would one day grow up into a complex sophisticated person like herself. She didn't even care if it was a girl or a boy nor was she entertaining thoughts of a son. There was no point. Regardless of its gender, she and her child would be disgraced anyway.
Her throat began to ache when she thought of what a dark and dismal future awaited her. She really wished it would all go away, but this was the result of her own actions and this was the only way she could serve her repentance and hope God in his infinite mercy would grant her salvation.
Closing her book and simpering to herself, Mary sat back in her chair and decided to wait until George arrived. She didn't have to wait long.
William Brereton could never be called a noticeable or even popular man. His silence and unquestionable obedience to the king was what kept him in the shadows and this mysterious persona he kept of himself served his purposes most generously. It left the path of illicit and secretive information to reach his ears with easy mirth and it was one of the things he prided himself on.
After returning to court for a couple of days and listening to the reports of Chapuys, general courtier observers and bribed servants, he was almost positive if not certain that the Lady Mary had been intimidated into accepting her bastardy and falsely renouncing the Catholic faith. By her general demeanour and suddenly lowly profile in the court, it was easy to see and guess.
She was rarely out and about, often ill, was cordial and polite to the king and whore at dinner but only spoke when spoken too. Usually she maintained the stance of a silent little lady contented to just waste her life away observing the court and waiting for her father to marry her off to some lowly noble. That was what he could see and he wanted to know exactly what happened when Anne visited Hatfield last. Something happened there to make the princess change her mind and he wondered what the harlot had threatened her with. Execution? Poison? Did she use a spell to bewitch the princess into accepting heresy?
So many questions to ponder with the answers themselves unexplained. Why was the Lady Mary hiding? Didn't she know that there were plenty of hidden supporters at court? Surely she knew that she could relate anything to Ambassador Chapuys…
There was definitely something dark weaving its way around the princess and it was his job to get her out of harm's way. Katherine of Aragon was making arrangements to smuggle her out of England and safely into the arms of King Charles. His duty was to inform the princess, keep an eye on her and then once the date was set, secretly get her out of the palace so they could make their way to the coast.
Easier said than done. He was sure Anne Boleyn or at least her uncle and father had spies swarming around the Princess Mary making it almost impossible for him to make contact with her without arising suspicion. The princess herself was making it harder by her inconspicuous appearances at court so he was going to have to improvise. But how?
Deep in thought he began walking down the isolated corridor and accidently bumped into a young woman along the way. At first he thought it was a servant, but he found himself staring into two pretty indigo eyes, a pale and clean surprised face followed by glossy blonde hair pulled back in a pearl beaded net. Recognition dawned in him as he recalled the familiar face from the harlot's retinue of ladies.
She was often seen with the Boleyn family was she not? And then it came to him. It was Jane Parker, George Boleyn's fiancée. "Pardon me my lady," he said with a slight bow. The woman flushed and smoothed down her gown. "I apologize Sir William. I was not watching where I was going," she said quietly perhaps slightly mortified at the situation. His expression was stone cold but not intentionally.
"It is no problem," he conceded as he studied her with shrewd diligence. "I hear you are to be married soon." Jane seemed slightly bewildered by him talking to her since he quite frankly never spoke with anyone, but was flattered all the same. "Yes sire. In about a month's time." He nodded acknowledging the fact and wished her well.
"Pass on my regards to the queen and the Lady Mary. I must say I do not spend my time with the other young nobles in the queen's chamber very much these days so please pay my compliments to them." Unsure of what to say to that, Jane simply nodded and continued down the corridor. The Parker's were originally strict Catholics.
It was a shame her father was selling his soul and his daughter's into heresy and damnation all for the riches of this world. Still though…he had found her…quite pretty.
Which was definitely saying something as he never focused on the tempting sin of Eve in any sense.
"George," Mary greeted cordially as one of her ladies showed him in. Jane Seymour as she recalled. "I'm glad you could come," she said with a smile but her voice held no warmth at all. Mary dismissed Mistress Seymour and offered George a seat to which he sat in wordlessly. His expression was surprisingly soft and Mary offered him some wine. He took great big gulps which in turn caused Mary to conceal a snarl of disgust.
"How are you feeling?" He whispered to her with mixed emotions making it impossible for her to decipher his meanings. "Good," she said shortly. George frowned and rubbed his temples. "No problems? You're healthy? The child is fine? Have you seen a physician?" Her surprise at his supposed grace of concern was enough to mar her features, but she was not about to treat him with over-formality.
"I can't exactly see a physician now can I George?" He was taken aback slightly by the hidden rudeness in the tone, but said nothing. Why was he even asking stupid questions? "How far along are you now?" He opted instead. Mary licked her lips and touched her growing stomach that was concealed under her high waistline gowns and bodice. "Almost four months I should think. The child should be due sometime in autumn."
He relaxed back in his chair and sighed. He looked defeated. "That doesn't leave us much time," he whispered knowing full well what she expected him to do. "No it doesn't," she agreed half-heartedly. George was silent for several awkward moments before swallowing hard and deciding to get down to business. "If we marry, how do you think we should go about revealing this information to the king and queen?"
She glared at him like he was an Olympic class idiot at the same time wounding his masculine pride and ego. That was one of the things about her that sent him on edge. Even though her life and reputation was all but destroyed, she still kept her head high, refused to admit defeat and successfully made everyone around her feel like inferior dogs beneath her feet.
"I suspect shortly after we marry we will request a private audience with them and reveal what we have done. I can't conceal this pregnancy for much longer nor am I free to leave court and give birth in secret. We can't avoid a scandal but we can lessen the damage and punishment. If we marry and this child is born in wedlock I suspect we'll just be banished if worse comes to worse."
It made sense, but leaving everything up to the king's unpredictable behaviour was risking a lot. George could very well find his head on a block married to Lady Mary or not and if her life was also in possible forfeit, he wouldn't put it past her to turn on him claiming rape and forced marriage. However since she was with child no punishments could really be inflicted on her.
It was a no win situation but was it really possible that Mary would turn on him? They had lain together after all and he did have feelings quelling in the deep pits of his heart for her in some form of sympathetic affection. "We're going to be married for life," he said flatly in a subliminal attempt to remind her that once they were wedded, she would be tied to the Boleyn family forever.
"I know that," she deadpanned and poured herself some mulled wine carefully avoiding his gaze. "It's just that…" he paused trying to think of the right words to say. "You're going to be the mother of my child and my wife. We are both going to suffer and lose our reputations when the king hears of this so I just want to know if…" he hesitated.
"If?" She encouraged impatiently. George sighed. "If we can trust each other. I suppose things are not ideal with us right now, but perhaps in the future things can be better between us?" The desperation to find a companion and friend in her was shocking to say the least, but she understood. Once her father pronounced his verdict, they would likely be banished and stripped of their titles with minimal wages to live on. They would only have each other and for the sake of their child and their survival, they had to learn to live together agreeably.
"Yes it will have to be and perhaps one day when our child is grown up and if we ever come back into favour again, we may laugh at this. The risk we took, the stupidity," she replied a little more optimistic but she doubted there would be such a future in their marriage. She hated the Boleyns' with every inch of her being. She didn't care how much she enjoyed George Boleyn's kisses or his touches or the pleasure he had awakened in her when they laid together. Carnal desires meant nothing.
She would just play her part and hope her child would grow up a God-fearing Catholic and perhaps one day claim the throne if such a thing was possible. George smiled at her and patted her hand before reaching into his pocket and pulling out the ring he had commissioned for her.
Gingerly, he placed it into her hand so that she could scrutinize its design. "Rubies," she muttered and inwardly scoffed at the irony of having a ruby as the stone on her ring. Rubies signified the virtuous woman and she had lost her virtue and dignity long ago. "Is this your fiancé's ring?" She asked dubiously.
George widened his eyes and shook his head. "Of course not," he said though gritted teeth. What kind of man do you take me for? Pondering on the thought, he saw how hypocritical it was anyway. It was blatantly obvious what she thought of him at the present moment. "It's lovely," she whispered and slipped the ring on her pale finger. It looked good on her.
"But I think I'll wear it around my neck now to avoid suspicion until the king knows of our predicament," she resolved standing up and heading to her dresser to attach it to a lonesome golden chain. George smiled weakly knowing his own plain golden ring he had commissioned for himself was still untouched in his room…next to the two rings that were meant to be for him and Jane. Those would remain untouched for eternity.
"There is a priest in town I know who will marry us. I'll make the arrangements so we can be married within the week without anyone knowing." She briefly spared him a glance and nodded. Knowing there wasn't much else to say, George stood up to take his leave but stopped for a moment to gaze at her.
"Mary," he breathed in an effort to assure her that he would never abandon her despite what would inevitably happen to their court life. "Yes?"
He bit his lip and walked up to her. "I just wanted to let you know that whatever happens…that you will always have a friend and companion in me. I never meant for this to happen, but the best we can do is right the wrongs isn't it?" She stared at him warily and her mouth formed into a thin line, but she nodded nonetheless. "I suppose so."
Caressing her cheek with his thumb and smiling down at her, George moved forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Perhaps things won't turn out so bad," he said hopefully. Mary's expression was unreadable and she merely curtseyed and bid him good bye.
Well no one could say George wasn't trying. He could very well understand the Lady Mary's rigid attitude and paranoia. They were walking on eggshells. With nothing else to do, George left her chamber, nodded to her ladies who thought he was here on the queen's behalf and headed back to his rooms.
Later tonight he was to visit Jane in her rooms secretly and commence his last act of love in the form of a farewell. Whether or not she would understand this wasn't exactly important. Jane would find out his treachery soon enough.
