Chapter 28 – In which something broke and something was mended
"Look at them, smiling and laughing and rejoicing. This is what we worked for. Here's to us!"
Anne Stanhope raised her cup to toast me, and I returned the gesture.
"To us," I smiled.
We stood in the great hall of Hampton Court watching the merriment of feasting. It was the third such feast my father had decided to bestow on his court since the return of his Queen in May 1537. Somehow, it seemed, he could not celebrate their reunion enough. I had laughed and danced with courtiers and nobles long enough now, so Anne and I had retreated for a small private talk. And wasn't it a beautiful chance that we happened to stand in the same spot where I had offered her my friendship years ago?
"I trust you are happily settled into your new life, then? We haven't had much of a decent conversation as of lately," I asked Anne.
She refilled her cup nodding. "Of course, and I appreciate your concern. I did not expect much of your precious time, now with the Queen returned. And your husband, too. I hope not to disrespect you in my bluntness but you must know everyone is watching you for… a sign."
"No offense taken," I assured her smiling. "Coming from you, it even sounds unusually sugar-coated. And yes, thank you, I am well aware they're all waiting for my pregnancy."
Anne laughed darkly. "Well, if you'd prefer the blunter version of me, allow me to offer my wisdom. Any troubles in the marital bed that you need help with?"
"What, no?!"
Now she laughed even more. "I made a joke at your expense."
"Oh, and what about you? The time of mourning is over. Have you no mind to remarry and have more children? You know the offer still stands. I'll protect their futures."
"I have no doubt about it," Anne assured me, now more serious in her demeanour. "And I have considered it, but not yet. You see… there are some distractions that are not easily obtained once you're married. Certain… fruits are forbidden."
"Are they, now?" I suddenly found myself speaking the way I had with my friends in my real life – funny, insinuating, honest. Modern. And weirdly, Anne didn't seem to mind at all. "Tell me, your forbidden fruit… it doesn't just so happen to be a certain Sir Francis?"
Anne's serious composure cracked for a moment as her eyes widened at my words. She pushed me back a step, away from prying eyes, and hushed her voice.
"How do you know?"
I smiled. "I consider it my business to know things."
"Yes, but how could it be common knowledge? We were so careful."
Actually, of course, I hadn't know, I had only assumed by what I knew about her. Many of the things from the show and history seemed to come true in this world, sometimes even those that I had tried to prevent. Why not that? So, actually, my guess had been just that – a guess. But I would keep up the pretence of my omniscience. And because it felt so good, I would even push my luck further. If they had hooked up as they had in the show, maybe they also had…
"You call a secret tryst behind curtains careful?"
Anne's eyes grew even wider. I smiled again and gently patted her shoulder.
"Oh, don't look at me like that. Don't worry, all your secrets are safe with me, as they have always been. That was our agreement, was it not?"
"Yes, but imagine what happens if somebody knew, I…"
"No one knows," I assured her sternly. "No one but me. I told you – all I am, all my actions, all my power derive directly from the knowledge I possess. If I didn't know as much as I do, I wouldn't be where I am, and neither would you."
"I wouldn't… ah, forgive me. I was acting out of turn," she said and tried to regain her calmness. "I was only worried about my daughter's future. I wouldn't want her to be called the daughter of a traitor and a whore."
"You could never be a whore." Somehow, even though I had been living in this world for years now, hearing her belittle her own sexuality made me angry. Where I came from, women did no longer have to apologize for enjoying sex. And if I had anything to say, at least Anne wouldn't have to, either. "Enjoying a man's embrace does not make you a whore, Anne. It makes you whole, just as it does the men. I trust you to be discreet and careful, and if you get in trouble, be sure to let me know. We have killed and resurrected a queen, we can also make sure your reputation stays untouched."
Saying the last bit was dangerous, I know, but I simply trusted that no one was close enough to overhear us.
"Yes, we have. And I think we outdid ourselves, you and I and your secret companion. Who, by the way, seems to be enjoying himself a little too much. You might want to talk to him," she said.
Now I was the dumbfounded one, for she pointed towards George Boleyn.
"You… knew it was him?"
Anne sipped on her wine. "Not initially, no. But I am not blind, I saw how well you worked together during your regency. There must be some secret understanding between you, so either he's your accomplice or your lover. You're too clever for the latter, so… you still might want to talk to him. His behaviour is bordering on frivolousness."
I marvelled at her reasoning, but only for a second before realizing she was right. George was obviously deep into his cups, and the way he stood while speaking to Mark Smeaton did appear… close. Dangerously close. He'd get himself killed if rumours started to spread. Damn, why was everyone so keen on making my life difficult?
I apologized to Anne and went over to the two men. When Smeaton saw me, he sank into a deep bow. It was well expected of him, a mere commoner, to pay me the highest respects. George didn't seem to notice at first and continued to talk. He was clearly more than just tipsy.
"Lord Boleyn, Master Smeaton. I trust you are enjoying the night?"
"Certainly so, Your Highness. Though our evening is even more joyful now that you grace us with your shining presence," Smeaton tried to charm me.
I smiled. "Thank you for your sweet words, Master Smeaton. If you think so highly of me, maybe you would like to compose a little tune for me to play? It has been so long since I practiced my lute skills in earnest. I hear you're a master of many instruments, so…?"
"Ah, yes, music. Such a beautiful thing," George interjected in a somewhat bitter voice.
"Of course," Smeaton eagerly replied, ignoring George's comment. "I should be more than honoured!"
"Wonderful. See to it that you speak to my head lady-in-waiting, Cecily, to find an appropriate time. Now, if you do not mind, I would like to borrow my dear uncle for a moment."
"Not at all," Smeaton assured me smiling, bowed and left us.
George continued to drink as if I wasn't there.
"You shouldn't be doing that," I hissed in a toned-down voice.
He made a strange sound that sounded like a dry laugh of irony. "Doing what? Drinking? Standing? Breathing?"
"You know exactly what I mean." Now I was the one trying to push him back, away from curious ears, but he just stood still as a rock. He resisted, and to push him openly would be more than unseemly.
"No, I do not," he returned rather angrily. "Tell me, mighty Princess, what it is that bothers you so. Is it my presence? I'll be gone before you know."
"No, it isn't. Good Lord, what is it with you? This is a feast, a happy occasion. The Queen is returned to us, we have won the war. You have no reason to be so… or is it your wife?"
George angrily furrowed his brows. "I have no wife. I'm a free man. I'm George Boleyn, the Queen's brother, I am like a damned god around here. I can do whatever I wish. Isn't it so?"
"Unfortunately, no," I said sighing, realizing now that he was on some path of self-destruction. "George, please, for all the friendship that has been between us, for the family bonds that link us… snap out of it. Whatever ails you so… it's not worth it. Isn't worth risking your life."
"My life? Hah, with what?"
"Fooling around with Smeaton," I gave back bluntly. "I saw it plainly, and others did as well. People will start to talk."
He grabbed a jug and tried to refill his cup. "Well, let them talk!"
"It's sodomy," I spat, trying to take the jug away from it. "For God's sake, don't you see it might put your head on a block?"
"Oh, is that what you've seen in your 'dark visions' that you would never truthfully speak about? My head on a block?"
"Yes, it was!," I returned, perhaps a little too loud. Some people looked over to us, but I smiled and waved their curiosity away. In the meantime however, George had managed to refill his cup and down it in one go.
"And Jane? Did you also see that? Did you see her death and chose not to warn me?"
I lowered my gaze and my down. "I… I dreamt of her death, yes, but not like this."
"What then? Tell me. Tell me! For once, just once, I demand the goddamn truth!"
He was angry. He was drunk. But he was also right. I had trusted him more than almost anyone else in this world, and I had answers he craved for. Perhaps he needed this, painful though it was. Perhaps it could give him closure.
"She was executed as a traitor, but only after she went mad. And she… she accused you of incest and sodomy. She got you, Anne, Smeaton and many others killed. As traitors. On a block. In shame, booed by a cheering crowd."
I could see that he believed me, and I could also see that my words had hit him harder than my fists would have ever been able to. He put down his cup.
"Thank you."
It was all he said before he left, no other word, no goodbye, nothing.
Two days later, the King informed me that George had left the country. He wanted to oversee our troops stationed on the continent, and my father had happily agreed to have a trustworthy general, not knowing that George was probably just trying to get himself killed. But when I heard about it, it was already too late.
He would most likely find a way to end his life faraway, and it would be my fault. I was miserable. I wrote letters to my European friends, asking them to watch out for my uncle, but I didn't expect to make a difference. Fate, it appeared, was working as it wished again. It had killed Jane Boleyn, why should it spare her husband?
On the other hand, fate was also willing to surprise me. In July, my mother suddenly appeared in my apartments, with no announcement that she was to come to court. After my initial surprise had ceased and she was seated next to the window with me, I curiously inquired after her reasons for being here.
"The King has summoned me," she said, much to my surprise. "I have no knowledge of what he wishes to speak about, but I do not doubt it has to do with his wife's rebirth."
The rebirth – that's what people had begun to call Queen Anne's miraculous reappearance. That my mother would use the term, however, quite surprised me.
"But I consider it a gift of God, for it permits me speaking to you again, mi hija. How beautiful and grown up you are now," she said smiling, touching my hair. "They all sing your praise in the streets. England's princess, they call you. The peacemaker, the lady regent. I cannot find the words to say how happy it makes me to see you in your position. It is where you should be, by right. You have the blood of kings."
"I am happy as well. Only I hope I can do justice to all the faith people seem to have in me."
"I have no doubt you shall never disappoint them. You are the granddaughter of Isabella of Castille, after all. You have a warrior's heart," Catherine assured me. "Now, sweetheart, I shall return to you after I have spoken to the King. Only I wanted so much to see you, even if only for a brief moment. Now, I shall see what your father has to say for himself."
I grinned at her words. "Don't be too hard on him. He's the King, after all."
"He is," she returned, grinning as well.
As I watched her leave, I realized I was dying to know what they would be speaking about. Why had my father called her to court without telling me? What was he up to? I continued my daily chores with my ladies, but couldn't concentrate on a single stitch. It took me only a quarter of an hour to give up and tell the girls I would be talking a walk with Cecily. Then, after we had safely made it away from my apartments, I told Cecily that I had to go somewhere on my own. She didn't ask questions. She never did.
I sneaked away, through the halls which I knew by heart, towards the king's chambers. Not to the main entrance, of course – the private passage. His guardsman tried to block me from entering, informing me that the King was having an audience, but I wouldn't have it.
"I know," I whispered. "He is talking to my mother. Please, I must hear it."
"Princess, if the King finds out…"
I smiled, trying to persuade him. "He won't. I have done it many times before. Have you not heard I'm the most well-informed person at court?"
Apparently he had. He nodded, albeit hesitantly, and allowed me to slip into the little room right next to my father's council room. It was here he himself would sometimes linger to watch his councillors when they thought themselves safely alone. Now I would use it to spy on my own parents. Childish? Dangerous? Unseemly? Yes, yes, and yes. But necessary for me all the same.
"…wish I could say that."
It was my mother's voice, followed by a long pause.
"But I have to offer Your Majesty my sincerest thanks for your treatment of our daughter."
"Yes," my father returned. "She is the most beloved."
"I have never wished so much for anything else. She is my world, and God's gift to you," my mother agreed.
"I know that. And I know… Catherine," my father said gravely and paused. "In the past years, I have had time to contemplate. I have watched our daughter laugh and cry, I have watched her take the reins of power and a man's hand in marriage. And I know that you are right about her, more than you could ever know."
"So you do understand she was meant to be queen?"
My mother's bluntness never ceased to amaze! I held my breath, curiously awaiting my father's response.
"I never doubted it. In my heart, I knew she possessed the best of us, though she is not intemperate… as we are," my father said. I marvelled at his words. "Catherine, we… I know we had something. We must have had, else God wouldn't have given us Mary. I wanted to apologize to you for how it ended. That's why I called you here."
I certainly hadn't seen that coming!
"And before you speak, since you are always so quick with your words, allow me to explain. I won't say it was a mistake, for clearly God is pleased with my new marriage. Even you must admit he worked a miracle to bring Anne back."
My mother made a sound, but without seeing her face, it didn't make sense to me.
"He has blessed my marriage with a son… but he also blessed you and I. He gave us many happy years, and he gave us Mary. It was for her sake we once made peace, it is for the sake of the love that once was between us that I would now like to honour you."
Silence.
"I would like to bestow Kensington House on you, along with the title Marquess of Kensington. By right, it will pass through you to our daughter and her offspring. If you please, you could put down the habit and live the life of a rich widow, or you could retain your ties to the church and use the estate for charitable work. I would put it to you."
Silence again.
"What say you?"
"I… why are you doing this, Henry?"
She had never spoken to him this personally since their divorce.
"For you," he returned in a warm voice that made me shiver. "God has been so kind to me these past months. I think he is offering me a chance to make amends. I would use it, if it pleases you. Say yes, Catherine."
"I have found church life eerily comforting," she said. "But I feel that, for all the years God will still allow me to breathe, I could do more. For others. Change things, as my daughter does. She has inspired so many people with her words and deeds, do you know that? The Lady of England, they're calling her."
"So I've heard."
"You ought to be proud of her."
"I am. Fiercely proud. But this is not about her, this is about you and I. Will you accept my offer?"
"I will, given that it also includes permission to come to court if I should wish to do so. I do not know how long I still have on earth, but I should love to hold my first grandchild."
My father laughed, or rather, he loudly smiled. "You shall. Consider it a royal promise."
"Then I accept and ask your leave. I would like to tell my daughter, with your permission."
"Our daughter," my father reminded her in a cheeky voice. "Do not be detained by me. Tell her the good news. Let it be known that we are finally at peace, and a happy family."
I heard a door being opened and wanted to run back to my chambers, but then I heard my mother's voice again. What she said, I wouldn't have want to miss in the world, since it led to the most curious of responses. What she said was this:
"Thank you, Henry. For everything. And forgive me if I must insist that for this, you will always have a place in my heart. I will always love you."
And what he said was this, the ultimate confession – and the ultimate way to finally, truthfully, honestly bring an end to the turmoil of their relationship: "And I you, in a way."
