God, his head was pounding. Henry knew he had drank too much last night, but he didn't calculate how badly his headache would be the next morning. When he had received the news from the north, he had drowned himself in wine. That bastard up north was scheming to seduce Anne, Henry just knew it. Well he was not going to allow it. He had been foolish, telling Anne last night. The second he had looked into her eyes, he had known that she had not been part of the plan. She had been completely shocked, but now she knew. Had Henry played his cards correctly, he could have made Percy out to be a power hungry conman. Someone who would accuse his innocent wife of being so evil that he would have to divorce her. But now Anne would know the truth. And Henry did not doubt that the duchess was actually guilty. Everyone had seen how she had treated her husband with disdain. No, he would have to find another way to keep Anne from falling for the duke.
His head pounded again as he rose from his bed and made his way to the wash bowl. He splashed cold water on his face to clear his mind and was instantly aware that he had felt cold water on him last night. Foggily, the memory of Jane's tears on his shoulder floated through his thoughts. The memories were far from clear, but he knew what he had done and was instantly ashamed of it. Poor Jane had received the brunt of his lust last night. His blood had been hot from his dancing with Anne and he knew that he would not be so well received at the Marquess' door. Not yet. So he had gravitated towards his queen's rooms. He vaguely remembered her weak hands against his chest, trying to push him from her. He could not remember everything that had happened last night, but knew he had been too rough. Jane was always delicate and compliant with him in bed. He knew that for her to even try to fight him means that he had been too aggressive. God, he was a brute.
Determined to make it up to his queen, he dressed quickly and made his way out to the gardens. His beautiful, country girl always loved the idea of him courting her like any other simple squire. With that in mind, he perused the bushes, picking out the largest and most colorful blooms. Once he had a small bouquet, he strode to the queen's chambers with purpose. He was admitted immediately, but had to wait for a moment while Jane was dressed. He sat anxiously, wondering how Jane would receive him. He had never been in this situation before, but if he wondered how his ex wives would have reacted. Katherine would have looked at him with disgust. Anne would have railed at him, maybe even tried to send him away and refusing to speak with him.
Suddenly, he was worried about how this would go. He steeled himself for Jane's anger. After all the trouble he had gone through to bring her this gift, she had better act appropriately. The room was filled with her ladies and he would not tolerate her embarrassing him. He was the king and he knew that men treated their wives much more harshly than he had treated her throughout the land. When she finally made her appearance, he straightened his back, expecting the worst. He would show her that she better be grateful he was even trying to apologize.
So when came out into the chamber in a pale cornflower blue silk gown, smiling sweetly at him and eyeing the flowers with delight, it caught him off guard.
"Oh, Your Majesty!" she said softly, holding out her arms for the blooms. "These are lovely! Thank you!" Confused, but remembering why he came here in the first place, he bowed to her and handed her the bouquet.
"For my most beautiful queen" he murmured courtly. While Jane did not blush like she usually did, her mouth did turn up into a pretty smile. When she turned her head to call for a pitcher of water he caught sight of a faint bruise on her collarbone. His mouth went dry at the discoloration of her porcelain skin, knowing he had been the one to hurt her-his pure, angelic queen. All the shame that he had experienced that morning bubbled up again inside of him at the sight and he immediately took her hand-hardly noticing the slight jump and stiffening of her back. He slowly rubbed circles on her delicate palms and met her eyes mournfully. Her eyes had been wide at his sudden movement but they soon relaxed and she squeezed his hand-accepting his unspoken apology.
He spent the rest of the afternoon with his wife, speaking with her about various subjects and playing cards to pass the time. That evening he made a point to ignore Anne (though she was a vision in emerald green) and every other pretty maiden at court and focus all his attention on the golden woman beside him. He even led her out to dance, swirling her around and making her blue skirts fly out around her. She laughed musically, her pale cheeks had filled with a beautiful blush and her blonde hair had begun to fall out of her elaborate hairpiece. He gently brushed a lock back and pressed a kiss to her cheek. The set ended and he led her back to the dais, satisfied to just sit with her and watch the other dancers.
He was pleased to see the smile firmly on her lips and when an image of her tear stricken face and cold, bare skin flashed through his mind, he shook it away. Tonight he would visit her rooms again, but this time he would make sure that she was the one satisfied. He would use every trick he knew to please her and then he would hold her as they slept. Optimistic that he had righted this wrong, he relaxed for the first time since that morning.