Here is a short chapter that wasn't in the original plan for this story, but was prompted by a question from Reganx – "Will there be an encounter between Anne and Jane when Anne comes to visit her son and daughter at Ashbridge?"

It set my brain moving and I thought "Why not? And why not have Mary and Anne encounter each other?" so since I'm going away next week, and won't be able to update, I thought I'd give you this instead.

Behold of Chapter 3!

3

The Queen's visit

We reached Ashbridge early on a cool November morning. Kitty Howard had remarked "It's rather pointless really. As soon as we get settled, we'll have to turn around, pack up again and go back to Court for Christmas."

I had nodded, and had been about to agree with her when Lady Bryan entered the room. Knowing she would have been set to watch over me as I took up my duties as a Lady-in-Waiting to Princess Anne, I turned to my old friend, and said loudly,

"Yes, but Kitty, who are we to question the Royal Family of England?"

Kitty stared at me in consternation before spotting Lady Bryan.

"As always, you are right, Mary. Now, come help me with the curtains." Kitty drew me towards the window and further away from Anne's sharp-eyed governesses, out of earshot. Then she asked in Spanish "Surely you don't really believe that, do you, Princess?"

"Kitty! What have I said about calling me Princess? I'm Lady Mary now, and you'd do well not to forget it."

"But-"

"No buts. Never stand in the way of the King and his desires, Katherine." My eyes filled with tears as I continued "I should know - I learnt the hard way."

Then I left Kitty standing there in silence, and went to help Catherine Carey, who was laying the little Princess's gowns in her clothes press, content that I had drummed Kitty's lesson into her firmly enough by bringing up my own experiences with my father, and also secure in the knowledge that I had done nothing that could displease either Lady Bryan, my father or Anne Boleyn.

****

Or at least, I thought I had not. Queen Anne thought differently.

Barely a week after we had got properly established at Ashridge, Catherine Carey, who had been hemming some sheets by the windows, spotted a carriage thundering up the drive.

It had the royal emblem on the door.

"Quick, we have to get these rooms presentable. Mistress Carey, put away those sheets. Maria-Anne, get me the Princess's pale blue damask gown from the nursery." Lady Bryan snapped.

"As for you, Mistress Seymour, and you, Lady Mary, you will leave the room immediately. Her Majesty will not wish to see you."

"Yes, Madam." Jane whispered, bowing her head. As she headed for the door, I stood firm. Queen Anne was my stepmother, and I intended to make her treat me honourably.

Margaret Bryan looked up and saw me standing there.

"Lady Mary. Did I not tell you to leave?"

"Lady Bryan, you did. However, Queen Anne has come to see her children, has she not? Correct me if I am wrong, but do they not include me, her stepdaughter?"

"They do not. Leave, Lady Mary, or else suffer the consequences."

I stood still. I did not believe that Lady Bryan, my former governess and close friend, would really punish me, and indeed she was wavering.

However, Lady Shelton, Queen Anne's distant cousin, Princess Anne's other governess, had no such qualms. Striding over to me, she slapped me, putting all the strength she could muster behind the blow.

"Do as you're told! I'll be telling Her Majesty about this!"

As I clutched my cheek in shocked agony, for it was of course, the first time in my life that anyone had actually struck me in such a manner, Jane ran back from where she had been frozen in the doorway.

"Come, Mary. Let's go. You're only making things worse for yourself."

Still stunned, I allowed her to lead me from the room.

****

Jane and I spent the next hour or so praying before the altar in the little room that we shared off Princess Anne's chambers. Suddenly, one of the little Princess's other maids of honour, Constance Talbot, hurried in.

"Mary! Jane! Come quickly. Her Majesty wants to see you!"

Puzzled, we rose, smoothed out our gowns and followed Constance.

Queen Anne was in the nursery, holding her daughter on her lap. When we entered, she thanked Constance, and dismissed all the other women in the room.

Jane and I went forward and curtsied to her reverently.

"Mistress Seymour. Lady Mary."

"Your Majesty."

"A moment, Mary. Let me speak to Jane first."

Nodding, I withdrew a few paces, and turned my head away, allowing the two women the illusion of privacy.

"Jane. You know that you are here only because His Majesty asked for you to be."

"Yes madam."

"Good. You are lucky to have his favour. Understand this, though, Mistress Seymour. You do not have mine.

If I hear of you ever harming my children, any of them, even if it is accidentally, you will be banished forever. Do I make myself clear?" Queen Anne's voice was like ice as she addressed my companion.

"Your Majesty, I would never – "

"You set your cap at the King. You took him from my bed. How do I know what you would and would not do? You are dismissed."

Jane curtsied silently, her head bent in shame.

As she went past me, her eyes down, I touched her shoulder, briefly offering comfort, before I went to stand before the Queen. Anne Boleyn regarded me with those searching black eyes of hers, and sighed.

"Lady Mary. What am I to do with you?"

"Your Majesty?" I was careful to keep a measure of respect in my voice, even though I did not believe that the woman seated before me truly deserved it. Like it or not, she had married my father, and as such, had to be treated like a Queen.

"I offer you friendship, and you refuse it. I try to honour you, and you shun me. I give you a place in my daughter's household, and you don't want it."

"Madam? I took it. I am here, am I not?"

"Yes, but the Duke of Suffolk had to make you. He had to produce your father's warrant. I wish with all my heart that you'd just taken it."]

"You heard, then, madam? About my exchange with Charles Brandon?" It was meant as a genuine question, one meant to diffuse Her Majesty's anger, but in reality, it only served to inflame her already formidable temper further. Forgetting her rank for a moment, she sprang to her feet. Queen Anne was cast aside; Anna-Maria Jane Boleyn stood before me, and she was as passionate, as quick-witted, and as sharp-tongued as she had always been when she was just another one of my mother's ladies.

"Of course I heard of it! What do you take me for, a simpleton? Well I hate to disappoint you, Lady Mary, but a simpleton is one thing that I will never be. I had a servant report to me of your actions that night, though it was hardly necessary – Sir Charles went to your father, who came to tell me."

My own temper, normally so controlled you would hardly know I had one, unexpectedly flared as I looked up to meet the gaze of my mortal enemy, where she stood with her babe in her arms.

"I do not take you for a simpleton, mademoiselle Boleyn. Why would I? You have the sharpest mind at my father's Court; you have shown it time and time again.

Except when it comes to your children. What in heaven's name makes you think that I might be grateful for a place in the household of your daughter, even if she is called a Princess?"

"It is an honour, you know. An honour that many girls of your age are clamouring for." Anne seemed to have calmed a little, but I had not. My God, I was only just beginning to vent my anger, which I had kept bottled up for so many years!

"A dubious honour. An honour I would never want, Mistress Anne. I want honours, it's true, but honours according to my rank. Honours due a King's daughter." The words, words I had been longing to speak aloud for months, but knew I shouldn't say, could not say, if ever I wanted my father's favour, sprang to my lips before I could stop them.

"Honours due a Princess?! You are no Princess of England, Mary. You are a bastard, a mistake. Do you not remember signing the Oath?" Anne leapt to her feet again, swinging her youngest child to her hip as she did so.

"This child, the child in my arms, is a true Princess. You are not!"

Suddenly, I realised what I had just said. Weak with shock, I sank to my knees, praying fervently that it was not yet too late to undo the damage that had been done.

"I beg Your Majesty's forgiveness. I spoke in anger. Of course I realise that I am no true Princess. I know in my heart that I am nothing but a King's daughter, and that Your Majesties have been nothing but gracious to me."

"I am glad to hear it, Lady Mary. Since you are only a young girl, hot-headed, as I was at your age, and since you may still be grieving for your mother, I shall show you mercy this time. Remember, however, that you are a bastard, not a Princess. You will not be shown the same clemency again. Understood?"

"Yes, my lady. You are indeed merciful." I knelt, and kissed her hand, hoping to disguise my loathing for her effectively by this outward show of loyalty.

"Hmm. You may go. Lady Shelton?" Anne called for her daughter's governess, who went to her side at once, sweeping past me as though I should have drawn even further out of her way, though the room was plenty big enough for two of us to pass unobstructed.

As I left, allowing the door to swing slowly shut behind me, I heard Queen Anne murmur "Have Lady Mary watched. One more defiance of me or my children, and she'll pay dearly for it. Change her roommate too. I don't like the fact that she's sharing with a Seymour. Put her in with Catherine Carey, or better yet, your daughter Madge. I don't want Mary mixing with those who might try to turn her against the Oath again, but family I can trust."

The door snapped shut, cutting off my ability of hearing what else Anne said.

****

Within days, the Queen's orders had been followed through. I now had to share a room with one of her closest relatives, Madge Shelton, and I was no longer allowed to hear Mass in Latin, although I was not forced to attend it in English. I suspected Kitty might have persuaded the Queen of this, for she always sent me a compassionate smile whenever anyone slandered my favoured religion, or tormented me for not attending with the rest of the household.

Thanks to her friendship, the days were bearable, but secretly, I longed for the day my father would realise that I now recognised Anne as his wife, that I was contrite for having caused him so much pain in the past, and only wished the best for him, as Kitty had promised me he would one day.

Then he might allow me back to Court, give me my own household there, instead of me having to wait upon Princess Anne, or at the very least, organise a marriage for me.

When would that be? I was 21 by then, and all I wanted was a husband. A young, handsome husband who could love me, and be the father to all the beautiful children I wished to have.

How much longer would I have to wait?