29 September 1512
Anne simply loved London.
Since her coronation, some spark had entered her life that was not there before. The court was kept at Whitehall Palace, a place that Anne was quickly finding to be the perfect home. She did spend time thinking joyfully of her happy days at Ludlow, but she looked optimistically at the future.
For a Queen, she spent more time than was necessary in the nursery with her son, but she could not help it. Once she was there, she never wanted to leave; when she left, all she wanted to do was go back.
She and Henry dined with a merry and youthful court every night – their friends and members of their households were always laughing and joking and courting. She could not have been happier.
"That baby," Henry said to her, lying alone in her chambers one night. "A girl or a boy, do you think?"
"I don't know," she admitted. "Some ladies say that I should have a feel for that sort of thing, but I don't think I do."
"Have you any names you would like to use?"
"I thought perhaps William for a boy," she smiled softly. "It is a common name here – I hear it almost as much as John. But that's too common, and I've heard it's unlucky in the royal family."
"John is a terribly unlucky name," Henry agreed. "Prince William of England… William, Duke of Lancaster… it fits, I suppose. And have you thought of anything for a girl?"
"Not Anne," she insisted. "I would never want to name my own child after myself… but perhaps Mary, for your sister? Or Katherine, for your sister-in-law?"
"Either would be fine," Henry agreed. "As would Elizabeth, for my mother, or Margaret, for my other sister."
"Princess Mary… Princess Katherine… Princess Elizabeth… Princess Margaret…" Anne's voice trailed off as she tested each name.
"We could have one of each," Henry imagined, pulling her close and his voice taking on a dreamy quality. "Let's see… we've got our Edmund, and let's say that Prince William is next? And we've got our four girls named… who else, for the boys?"
"Henry, of course," Anne smiled. "For you and your father… and Arthur, perhaps, for your brother."
"Let Arthur name his own son after himself," Henry teased. "What about Charles?"
"Charles is good," Anne agreed. "And Anthony. I wouldn't want to leave out any of your friends."
"Nor I yours," he smiled. "So we should add Martha to our list… Are you sure you won't name any of our girls Anne?"
"Never," she smiled. "I would use Susannah, or Bridget, perhaps. But I won't name my daughter Anne."
"It seems we have a large family, nonetheless," Henry smiled down at his wife. He could feel himself falling more in love with her by the second. "Our girls will be the first picked as brides for foreign princes… and every foreign princess will strive to marry one of our sons."
"I like that idea," Anne sighed contentedly. "I don't think life could get any better if it tried," she muttered, a peaceful look glazing over her face as she fell asleep.
1 October 1512
"Anne, really," Susannah giggled, "you've got to be more careful about this."
"Or what?" Anne scoffed. "Katherine will find out? I'd almost rather she does, and brings it to Henry. If he had to choose between listening to Katherine, Arthur's wife, over his own, we all know he would choose me, if only for his own pride."
"You don't want to go advertising that you're a heretic," Mary Bowen agreed. "At least not yet. If the King himself decides that the religion is worth looking in to, then you should encourage him as much as you can. But blatantly declaring yourself a Protestant is nothing short of stupid."
Bridget Wingfield laughed. "Oh, Mary, you're so cautious," she teased. "I say that the Queen is right. No one is going to stop her from doing as she pleases. She's the Queen of England – she's above the law."
"That is true," Nan Saville admitted grudgingly, "But the King is above even her, and if he were to disapprove of this then she would be in a very dangerous situation."
"I've already decided something," Anne whispered, and her ladies-in-waiting leaned in close at her tone. "Lady Margaret Pole is taking care of my Edmund, as he's only a child. That will be her job – taking care of the babies. But for the governesses that will have the real influence, and for tutors, I think I'm going to pick people I know are Protestants."
"Anne!" Madge Shelton gasped. "That's practically announcing yourself to be a heretic."
"It's also ensuring that the future King of England has Protestant sympathies," Anne hissed. "I'm thinking of the good of this country. I doubt Catholicism will ever be banned in England, but no one should say a word against tolerance."
The ladies exchanged glances. "She's right," Katherine, her dearest friend from Russia, admitted.
"Governesses do have influence over royal children that most people underestimate," Martha agreed. "Raising Edmund and any other children by using Lutheran governesses is probably the safest way to ensure that England's heirs are Protestant, or at least have Protestant sympathies."
"Thank you, Martha," Anne exclaimed, glad that someone saw the genius of her plan. "I've told Lady Pole already that I want her with me in my confinement and then with the younger of the children, and she has agreed. I'm not quite sure who I'll make permanent governess yet, but I'm looking through applications."
"I can recommend someone," Mary Bowen spoke up. "Lady Margaret Bryan nee Bourchier, my mother's half-sister. She's not openly Lutheran, but she has a disdain for the Catholic faith and the corruptness of the clergy. I think if you hinted that you wanted her to raise your children as Lutherans secretly, she would do it."
"Have her come for an interview," Anne suggested. "I need someone to head the household who can do that. Thank you, Mary," she added, knowing Mary thought she should be more cautious.
"You don't think the King will make inquiries about the children's religious education?" Annie asked.
"He will," Anne admitted. "I'll tell him I've found a good, pious woman of rank and virtue to oversee that aspect of their education. I'm sure he'll have no objection to that."
"He knows Lady Bryan already, I should think," Nan Saville added. "Almost everyone does, but only a few know what she thinks of the clergy. She's very good at hiding that particular opinion."
"I'm glad to hear that," Anne nodded. "Elizabeth, would you draft a letter to Lady Bryan for me? Just request a visit, don't go into any details. Mary, I'd like for you to mention what the interview is about, should she ask."
"Of course, Your Majesty," Mary agreed. "I'd be happy to."
"Good," Anne smiled. "This is working out better than I thought it would. Oh, and Mary, be sure to mention to Lady Bryan that if she accepts this position, she'll be the head governess and expected to hire another governess of the same tendencies for Lady Ursula and any other children put under her care."
"Of course, Your Majesty," Mary said again. The other girls exchanged looks. Anne's acceptance of the Lady Ursula was something that made them all a little uncomfortable.
"Why are you placing her in your son's household?" Elizabeth blurted, and then hastily covered her mouth. She needed to remember that she couldn't speak to Anne like that.
But Anne didn't seem to mind very much.
"She's an innocent child," Anne reminded her companions. "And in our dislike of her mother, I think we forget that. She has the same right of any other child to receive love and affection from her father and have good role models about her. I think that Edmund's caretakers could provide her with a happier childhood and instill more virtues than the Lyons family could."
"That's what it is then," Katherine sighed, looking at Anne. "You don't want your husband's daughter to be as much of a harlot as her mother."
"That's one way of putting it," Anne laughed. "And I'd like to exercise some influence over her. Now that's she's in my care, at least nominally, I'll have a right to do that. The same goes for any other children of Ruth Lyons or some other mistress."
"That's clever," Bridget Wingfield agreed. "Although I don't think you should explain that reasoning to Lady Pole. She'd scold something terrible."
2 October 1512
"Being the King's maitresse en titre is simply splendid, isn't it?" Ruth Lyons smiled.
Her new ladies-in-waiting were hardly high-class, and there were only a dozen of them or so, but she was still the head of her own little household.
"You're very fortunate," her maid, Joan, replied idly.
"Yes, I am," Ruth giggled. "I suppose I'll be even more fortunate once I give the King a son. Did you know that the Queen is pregnant again? I suppose that means more time for me."
"Aren't you nervous that the Queen will have another son, and you won't?" another maid asked.
"Of course not," Ruth snapped. "There is no reason on earth why I shouldn't have a son with the King. I don't know why you're so pessimistic; missy, I don't like it. What's your name?"
"Amy Thatcher," the girl replied. "I'm only in your household temporarily. My mother was a good friend of Princess Margaret's, and I confidently expect to be in Princess Mary's household, if not the Queen's, in a matter of months."
"Good luck with that," Ruth scoffed, leaving her maids to continue their work. "I think I'll go see where the King is."
4 October 1512
"He's a sweet child," a maid whispered, gazing at Prince Edmund. She was only fifteen, hardly old enough to be at court, but her father had sent her nonetheless. Looking at the Prince, less than a year old now, she could not help but yearn for babies of her own.
"What is your name?" Lady Pole asked gently.
"Catherine Champernowne," she replied, still gazing at the infant tenderly. "My father is Sir John Champernowne, and my mother was Margaret Champernowne, but she died."
"Ah, yes," Lady Pole remembered. "You're betrothed to Sir John Ashley, am I correct?"
"Yes," the girl nodded dreamily. "I've been betrothed to him since I was a child. We were supposed to marry when I was fifteen, but he was off at Ludlow. We're supposed to marry soon, but for some reason it keeps getting put off."
"You'd like to be married?" Lady Pole smiled sympathetically. "Marriage is a huge goal in most girls' lives. But aren't you a little young?"
"Oh, no!" Catherine cried. "My mother was married when she was fourteen. I'm starting to think there's something wrong with me."
"There's nothing wrong with you," Lady Pole comforted. "On the contrary, you're a very pretty girl. It is just not God's will that you should be married quite yet. But don't fret; I'm sure your time will come. And you'll have lots of little babies to care for yourself one day."
"I suppose so," Catherine agreed. "Oh, I do hope you are right. I think I'd be a good mother, don't you?"
"I think you'll be a wonderful mother one day," Lady Pole agreed. "And a good wife, too. For now, why don't yet help me with the little ones? Bring Lady Ursula over here."
It mystified Margaret Pole when Anne ordered her to take Lady Ursula into the nursery. At first she thought it was surely Henry's idea; but it had gotten out quickly that it was Anne's. She still didn't understand the motivation behind the request, but she would follow it nonetheless. It was not her place to question the King and Queen's orders.
Watching as Catherine played with Lady Ursula, Margaret thought she might understand.
There was something innocent about the little girl; that had to be maintained, not ruined by ungodly influences.
A/N: There you go, another chapter. Exams are over (yay!) so I might be able to concentrate more on writing. I hope, at least! Review!
