Hey! Thank you all so much for your reviews, likes and follows. They seriously mean a lot to me. And motivate me a lot.
Just for clarification: 10 shillings are about £220 today or 294 $
£1,000 are about £441,000 or $590,000 (I was shocked!)
Clement VII. was the unfortunate pope who saw England's break with the Catholic Church and was imprisoned by Katherine of Aragon's uncle, Charles V., Holy Roman Emperor. Poor guy, all he wanted was to wear red slippers, but the job was really tough for him.
Enjoy!
Catherine
~o~
What spirit had possessed her? She had kissed him, right there under the mistletoe like a shameless whore from Lambeth. It was the wine. She told herself. He will know it was the wine, he will know it was only because of the mistletoe. But it wasn't, of course it wasn't. She knew that much, but hopefully he didn't. He must think me a lady of easy virtue, a right floozy. And very French indeed.
And her sister had kissed these lips, years ago. And Leviticus says...But how could it be wrong? The king had lain with Mary Boleyn and now he wanted Anne. There was some sort of dispensation, no doubt. And Leviticus spoke of brothers, never of sisters...You talk as if he wanted you too. He had not even replied to the kiss, he had just stood there. Why would he want to kiss me anyway, not long ago, I openly flirted with every man but him and now that he has saved my life, I throw myself at him.
Cat did not even notice that her maidservant removed the wreath from her head and helped her out of the costly gown.
I want to stay here forever and at the same time, I want to flee from him. She had no idea how to face him in the morning. Should she just try to forget it? Pretend it had never happened? Yes. What else can I do?
The duke did the same. Together, they spent a few days with the children, awkward with each other.
Catherine behaved like a fool. One time, at the dining table, she had asked him to pass the salt, he had handed it to her and the touch of his fingers on her has startled her so much that she had let go of the salt.
"Snow on the table!" Mary had exclaimed but Frances had given Catherine a puzzled look.
The duke had gone as red as she had and they both kept their eyes on their plates for the rest of the dinner.
It was hard to say goodbye to the children. Bess and George were quiet in their sadness but Mary would not let go of Cat's skirt until Brandon threatened to lock her in her bedchamber.
They promised to return soon, perhaps before Shrove Tuesday, and then headed west.
It was a long ride and a quiet one for they both were lost in thoughts.
~o~
They arrived at Whitehall after breakfast the next day because Brandon had insisted on staying at St. Edmund's Abbey for the night.
"Cat!" Anne disregarded her courtly manners and embraced her, right there in the stableyard. Cat's gown was dusty and dirty from the ride and Anne's was too now, at the hem but she did not seem to mind. She looked great, dressed in a fine gown of green velvet and cloth of gold with huge emeralds hanging from ears and neck.
"His Majesty's Christmas gift." She said, touching the stones. "One of many."
"Mistress Anne." Brandon managed a stiff bow. He does not like her. Cat was not pleased. He was supposed to like her as Anne was supposed to like him.
"No longer 'Mistress', Your Grace. Haven't you heard? My Lord Father is now Earl of Wiltshire."
"Anne! You did not say a word! Since when?" Cat had reached for her friend's hand.
"Oh, it was another Christmas gift." She smiled nonchalantly. "And George is now Viscount Rochford. He would be good enough even for you, Cat. Alas, he has that terrible Parker wife. Well, you must excuse us, Your Grace. We have a lot to catch up on."
And with this remark, Anne dragged her away from Brandon. Cat barely managed a quick curtsy in his direction.
"Christmas was a lavish affair. And Henry is still madly in love." Her smile was pleased but then it faded. "Campeggio is still tarrying and I fear-"
She looked back, making sure that no one had followed them, then dragged Cat to a wooden bench.
"I fear his decision. The king has been in love with me for years now but how long will he wait? How long can I keep him interested without losing my honour? I have secured my family lands and titles worth a fortune but if Henry loses interest, who will still have me?" That was the pragmatic daughter of France speaking.
"Oh, Cat, I cannot endure it. If he loses interest, starts a new liason, if he disposes of me-"
This was the passionate side that Anne hid from her family. The side that loved Henry in the same possessive, egocentric way in which he loved her. She was the king's perfect match. They were not two sides of the same coin like Katherine and Henry. They were the same side and Cat was rather certain that their shared interests would make for a happy marriage….if Anne managed to produce the long-awaited heir.
"He will not lose interest." Of that much Cat was sure. "He is a hunter."
"But how long can I still make him wait? I defend my virtue and so does he, but he is a man after all and he desires-" She stopped abruptly. "Lady Rochford."
Jane Parker, George Boleyn's terrible wife, came walking down the path.
"Ah, Lady Anne." Jane curtsied to her first. "And Lady Catherine. Are you enjoying the winter weather?"
"Yes, thank you, but we would rather enjoy it without you." Anne said, quite matter of factly and Cat dug her nails in her skirt.
"A joke." She laughed. "Come, sit with us, Jane. How was your Christmas?"
Jane did not sit down. Her gaze went from Anne to Cat wearily. "A splendid feast." She said slowly. "And yours?"
"Rather quiet."
"I heard you spent the holidays at His Grace's family home? Where he lived with the French Queen?" Jane's curiosity fought with her pride. It seemed curiosity won.
"Indeed."
"And, did you find it very French in style? Did he have many servants? Do the children look like their mother?"
"It is very elegant but English, I have not counted the servants and yes, the children resemble their mother."
Jane was a terrible gossipmonger and incredibly curious. But Anne should not show open hostility. Many at court already resented her for she had risen so quickly. She needed her family.
"Ah." Apparently thinking of other questions, Jane paused.
"Dearest Jane." Anne smiled. "I cannot find my book of hours although I am sure I had it in my pocket. Would you be so kind as to see whether I left it in my rooms? Tell the guards I allowed it."
Jane's round face brightened.
"As you wish, Lady Anne."
And she was gone.
"There, wasn't that elegant? She will love sniffing through my papers and things. You should not have pinched me, The bruise on my thigh will be my constant companion for years."
"Forgive me. But you were so rude! Nan, sometimes I think you forget yourself."
"I had a quarrel with my uncle shortly after Christmas Eve." Anne admitted. "He says I spoke to him like others would not speak to a dog."
"Well, I am fonder of the stable boy's dog than of your uncle. But continue."
Anne grinned. "I should have told him so. Your sister, his wife, she openly spoke against me and tried to smuggle a letter to the Queen. Mine own aunt! Henry sent her away and I scolded my uncle and well, we quarrelled."
"Elizabeth was never wise. Many of the old families secretly support Katherine, you know that. But Elizabeth cannot harm you. As far as I know, not even Norfolk, her own husband, trusts her enough to allow her to keep his household and he has had a mistress for years. You are ironclad, Anne. At least for now."
"For now." She echoed. "And what do I do if the Pope refuses to grant this annulment?"
"Well, there is a monk from Wittelsbach, who preaches that the Pope does not have supremacy…" Cat allowed the sentence to sink in.
"You fine heretic." Anne smiled her delicate, scheming smile, the Boleyn smile her father had as well. "Henry has read Tynedale. Why would he not read Lutheran writings?"
"Perhaps because he earned his title Defender of the Faith by defaming Luther? Start slowly Anne. Plant the doubt. Henry is no schoolboy, he will look for other ways soon enough."
"Oh, I feel wicked." That seemed to exhilarate her. "Marry Henry and reform the church. Why, it truly is Christmas. Of course he will not tire of me. We have so much in common, he loves me. I will withdraw to Hever again soon and he will be mad with longing. Then I will return and he will be excited again. During lent, he cannot pursue me anyway and who knows, perhaps the Pope has come to a decision before Easter!"
All the tension was gone. "Ah, now tell me of your Christmas, Cat. I hope you are still unpromised and untouched?"
Cat nudged her in the side for that. But she did tell her what happened.
"You kissed him? Have you taken leave of your wits? Oh, truly. I would not have thought you so bold."
"Neither would I. It was the wine and the moment and the mistletoe."
"Do not blame it on the poor plant! Now, what did he say? Did he reply? The French way?" Anne laughed again.
"Could you please take this seriously? He did not reply. Neither in the French way, nor in the English." That was what drove her mad. That he had not even shown any reaction.
"I think not replying is the English way. He was surely surprised and before he had grasped what was happening, you had already retreated. Men in general are slow of mind, we both know that much. Oh, he will surely try again. You must dance with him, and often. And wear gowns that make him dream of you. Catherine, Duchess of Suffolk. Now, that sounds good. You will be lady of my bedchamber when I am Queen and sit on my right."
"He has lain with my sister." Cat remarked quietly.
"In all truth, Cat, I fear most men at court have lain with your sister. With that one at least. It does not matt-"
"Of course it matters. She died because of that, Anne. Her health was fragile and that draughty house hastened the decline of her health and-"
"William Compton died of the sweat. William Carey died of the sweat. Little Kitty Willoughby died of the sweat. It was not the house she lived in. It was the sweat, Catherine. Stop finding excuses. You have fallen in love with him. I find it very strange for you used to loathe each other with such a passion...but ithen again, I have long suspected him of hiding more tender feelings under the guise of hatred."
"Well, you could have share your suspections far earlier."
"I wasn't aware of your feelings because you hid them like a Spanishwoman. But it is not too late. Look at you. He will propose marriage to you before Ash Wednesday. You will be married after Easter and have an heir just after Christmas."
Anne looked very pleased. "See, you would even regain the title your father has lost."
"Duchess of Suffolk is not Duchess of Buckingham." One title had been given to a mere standardbearer's son, one had passed down through generations...through generations of traitors, it seemed.
"How is Katherine?" She knew better than calling her Queen in Anne's presence.
Thankfully, Anne got the hint. "She called me grasping and overly ambitious. And her ambassador calls me a whore."
"To your face?" Cat was shocked.
"Never. But behind my back. That old woman will betray me, she is plotting against me even now."
"Betrayal never comes from your enemies, Anne." Her father had learnt that lesson.
"Well, I do hope that you don't plan on doing something silly." Anne smiled but it was strained.
Cat saw why later in the evening. Not many were brave enough to be openly hostile towards Anne and her faction, but the sour faces and mumbled curses were enough. The King seemed not to notice, he saw no one but Anne anyway. But Anne did. And Anne was furious. She noticed every face that did not smile, every one that whispered words into their neighbour's ear, eyes on the king's new mistress. "These are my enemies. All of them. They support Katherine. Oh, what can I do against so many?"
Her despair was understandable, half the court (mostly old families and those that did not profit from the rise of the Howard-Boleyn faction) was secretly plotting against Anne. But it did not matter. Not as long as Henry was in love with her.
"The king looks at you."
Anne smiled.
"He always does, Anne. The lion is yours, why would you worry about the opinion of sheep? You need the support of your family but apart from them, you need no one but him. Look how high you have risen."
Anne was wearing scarlet and cloth of gold, rubies shone in her hair and at her pale throat.
"You are the true queen already now. And it will not be long. You are too suspicious. Smile, be merry. He loves you."
Anne gave Henry a dazzling smile. "He truly does, doesn't he? Oh, Cat, it is Wolsey, he and Campeggio and that dry old woman. As soon as we have the annulment, I'll be merrier than a tavern wench, I promise."
Rome's decision was straining not only Anne's nerves. The whole court was frightened but they all were perfect mummers. Henry did not want to hear doubts, no one but Anne was allowed to voice them. He wanted confidence. Like a young boy he seemed to believe that he could alter reality with no more than his own willpower. He was king by divine right after all. But the Pope was chosen by God as well...God would not pit his two sons against each other, would He?
~o~
A fortnight later, Whitehall
Charles
~o~
Henry put a brave face on but in front of his best and oldest friend, his mask slipped.
"What can I do if Clement says no? What can a King of England do against a Pope's decision?"
Charles did not know either. He had never read the scriptures, theology interested him little. There was a God, of that he was certain. He was not always a very helpful fellow, and why should He care ? They were ants under His feet. Just like a human might be curious about those tiny creatures that could carry so much, perhaps God looked at them too. But then, His attention would waver and they were left to themselves again. That was how Charles felt like more oft than not and every Sunday he went to shrift to confess, just to make sure that God was not cross with him. It had rarely helped. But this was not what Henry wanted to hear. Henry wanted a few bible passages that proved he was right, and if Charles didn't find any, he would have to write some new. Henry wanted what he wanted.
"He will, Your Majesty." Charles said but the king was not pleased.
"I am right. He should. But what if he does not?"
This was difficult and Charles wished for Gardiner or even Rochford, no, Wiltshire, now. They would have known a dozen passages to calm their king down.
"You mean what if the Pope errs?"
Henry looked at him as if he had said something very, very outrageous. But suddenly, a smile brightened his worried features.
"Exactly." he murmured. "What if he errs?"
He slapped Charles on the shoulder. "Brilliant. Brilliant. Of course. Tennis this afternoon?" He shouted over his shoulder as he left the room, almost running.
Charles did not have to reply. Of course he would be there.
He was there. And she was, too. His hands started sweating. He did not want to lose in front of her. There were few enough things he could impress her with. She stood in the front row with the Mistress Anne, now Lady of course. Catherine was dressed modestly, her attire was eclipsed by her friend's but her features were so beautiful, the smile she sent him as soon as she saw him was so enchanting that Charles's foolish heart fluttered. And then the game started.
"10 shillings on the king." Lady Anne said provocatively. "What about you, Catherine?"
I have learnt a while ago that gambling is not for me."
"A simple bet. Come now, Cat."
But Catherine only smiled and shook her head. Does she think she would lose her money if she placed a bet on me?
Charles was even more adamant to win now. His serves were hard and precise and the king stood no chance.
"What got into you, Charles?" he asked when the game was finally over but Charles only shook his head. No here.
Henry understood- and for a moment, his eyes darted over to Catherine.
"You need a hunt. God knows, I need a hunt too. We start on the morrow and return on the next. Or the one after that. Who knows. Only you and I. No women."
And no Boleyns. The Lady Anne would not like it but Charles was thankful. Perhaps Henry knew what to do. He always did. Christmas and Epiphany were over and a few dull weeks would follow and he was as relieved as Henry to leave court for a while, to leave her for a while.
"Perhaps Norris and Carew would like to join." Norris was a pleasant fellow and Carew as conservative as the Pope, a rogue and a skirt chaser in his youth...well, he still was, only that fewer skirts lifted for him, especially since his marriage. But none of them would cite Leviticus, none of them would mention Luther or Lady Anne. No one would remind him of Catherine for a while.
"Aye." Henry did not suggest Rochford or Wiltshire.
He walked over to his sweetheart and left Charles alone on the court.
"You did well." Catherine smiled but he was not sure whether her tone was perhaps mocking.
"Are you so surprised?" He did sound a tad sulky.
She seemed to be taken aback: "N-no. Of course not. I just-"
Oh, you goddamn fool. He had been too sensitive.
"A jape." He touched her lightly at the shoulder and suddenly, his thoughts raced back to Christmas and he stared at her mouth. "Forgive me." He smiled. "Why did you not place a bet?"
"I think gambling is not something I am very good at. That includes bets."
Talbot was still on her mind. One good thing about being as simple as he was was that he forgot everything. Nothing was on his mind longer than a fortnight- well, apart from her.
"One badly placed bet does not mean you do not have talent. We should gamble some time. I am certain you'll do well, my lady."
"A brilliant idea." Lady Anne was still in Henry's arms but apparently, she had heard him. "We love to gamble...we will think of some convincing wagers. As soon as you have returned from your hunting trip." Damn her.
"Hunting trip?" Catherine looked at him with surprise.
"Only the king and I and a few companions. We won't be long."
No, they really wouldn't be away long, for both he and Henry had a reason to return home quickly. Some convincing wagers. At court, it was not always money. More oft than were it things money could not buy. A poem, a dance, a kiss. Yes, Charles would ride like the wind.
~o~
Catherine
~o~
"You could have won a lot of money." The Duke of Norfolk, Anne's uncle and Cat's brother-in-law, had approached her silently. The king had just left with Anne and Catherine was still too awkward to be alone with the duke, so she had stayed behind.
"Or lost it." she replied and he laughed his unpleasant, sharp courtier's laugh.
"You seem to be far more sensible than your sister. Perhaps I should have waited a few years and married you instead." I would have sooner entered a convent. It was nothing, only banter. But it still made her angry. In all truth, Cat had never been very fond of her eldest sister. Elizabeth's sense of entitlement had only been eclipsed by their father's. But Elizabeth had forsaken Ralph, her beloved Ralph, to marry this rich despot.
"Your father had promised me a pliant filly but I am married to a lioness." Again that unpleasant smile.
"Well, good brother, you should have taken a look at the heraldry of the Staffords before choosing your bride." The English lion passant guardant was part of their heraldry. "And if a horse goes bad, the fault lies with the owner, every stableboy will tell you, Your Grace."
"How dare you talk to me like that. I saved your sister from ruin. I cried when the sentence was passed that doomed your father."
"No doubt the lands worth £1,000 a year that you received after his death have helped you to dry your tears. You must excuse me now. A good day, good brother."
She left the furious Norfolk behind. His days were over. With Henry, a new court had formed, one that replied not on blood but on loyalty and character. She was part of this court. Norfolk was a fossil from olden days.
Catherine was not at all happy to see Brandon leave the next day. She would miss him, she admitted to herself, though not to Anne, who was equally bad-tempered because Henry had left without her. But perhaps in his absence, her heart would stop fluttering like a little bird's wings and she would finally stop behaving like a complete fool. And hopefully, her absence would make his heart grow fonder.
Thank you for reading!
I shamelessly borrowed a sentence from wise Kevan Lannister from ASoIaF. He said "If a dog goes bad, the fault lies with his master."
Replies to reviews:
Xenocanaan: Thank you for your review! I would love to tell you but it would perhaps spoil the surprise ;) I'm really happy that you like this.
Dear Guests 1 and 2: As for Anne's fate, I have now made my mind up. I am not a huge fan of this "Elizabeth has a twin brother" scenario but I hope you will still not be disappointed :)
Dear Guest 3: Thank you for the feedback, it made me so happy! I love doing research for this, it was such an interesting period! But thank you!
Sparky She-Demon: Thanks a lot, there's no greater compliment!
