Apologies for the long wait, I've been on vacation with internet access. Thank you to Countess Cadhla for a couple of suggestions! Anyway, here's the 3rd installment, enjoy!
That night Anne dreamt of her Gentleness and the maze. They were running through it, or specifically he was chasing her, though she did not fear being caught. They kissed on the grass and lolled languidly on it and each other. In that world only they existed, the trouble of court and King absent from their minds. No father, no King, no titles or duty, only them. Anne woke with a start as Charles reached under her skirts. A rumble of summer thunder rolled over the palace and Anne cursed under her breath, how typical to wake up just when it was about to get interesting. In the dark she could just make out the figures of the sleeping ladies around her. She sat up and pulled her knees under her chin. Anne listened to the thunder for sometime as she replayed fragments of her dream. Lady Anne Brandon, Duchess of Suffolk, she smiled secretly before chastising herself and trying to sleep again. Little did she know that in the King's chambers Henry dreamt of a woman dressed in gold with raven hair.
With the Emporer's return to Spain life at court returned to its boisterous self. Horses charged up and down the tiltyard, lances poised and with a clash of wood on metal a rider was sent hurtling to the ground. The crowd applauded as the rider was dragged away and his shield was removed from the list.
"3 points to Mr. William Compton!" the announcer bellowed to another enthusiastic applause. Another pair of challengers lined up at bar. Anne sat beside the Queen, the eyes of the King glancing at her whenever the knights were not in play. There was a smash and the King roared with approval as another competitor was carried off.
"The Duke of Suffolk has now entered the list" Anne's breath hitched in her throat, she had not expected him to play today seeing how the voyage to Portugal was imminent. As he approached the royal pavilion the King suddenly got to his feet. Wolsey stood at the foot of the pavilion stairs with a man dressed in black holding a felt package.
"Sweetheart" Henry took the Queen's hand and pressed it to his lips. "Excuse me" His eyes lingering on Anne as he passed.
"Majesty," Charles nodded to Katherine. "Mistress Boleyn, will you do me the honour of allowing me to wear you favours today?" Anne looked to the Queen for permission before quickly scanning the field; her father was too engrossed with her uncle, the Duke of Norfolk, to notice and her brother George was dallying with some pretty thing. She rose from her seat and undid the silky green ribbon tied around her wrist. Charles lowered his lance.
"I'm waiting to be impressed. Your Grace." She pulled the bow tight, lifting her eyes slowly to his face then returned to her seat. There was applause as he rode to his end of the yard.
"Mistress Boleyn" The Queen took Anne's hand; Katherine had been watching the exchange diligently. "Mr. Brandon's intentions are not always as honourable as I think you hope them to be." Katherine squeezed her hand a little and Anne nodded. "But," The Queen released Anne and turned her head to the yard, "He is a good man, perhaps, with a good woman by his side, he may become better yet." Katherine shot Anne a playful sideways glance.
"The Earl of Huntingdon challenges à plaisance" The page dropped the flag and the horses charged. Anne watched with baited breath as they approached, her heartbeat as audible to her as the sound of hooves pounding down the line. Lances hit but neither rider was thrown from their horse. They lined up again. Anne gripped the arm of her seat as the distance closed. Huntingdon missed. The force of Charles' hit threw Huntingdon clear from his horse at a considerable speed. Anne leaped to her feet and there was a muffled cry from the fallen knight. His attendant rushed to him, removing his helmet to reveal his bloodied head and carried him off the field.
"The Duke of Suffolk has won the day!" Charles paraded about the yard as the crowd cheered him. The King returned in time to reward him. As Charles approached the stand, Anne felt her heart kick-start with admiration and satisfaction. For such a modest tournament the reward was extremely lavish, as was the reward ceremony. To a fanfare of trumpets the King presented Charles with a large golden plate with the royal lion championing a lance etched into the centre.
How subtle, Anne thought, You may be today's Champion but don't forget I'm still better than you, she glanced at the King before returning her attention to Charles. Prize in hand Charles turned and showed it off to the crowd to a cordial praise. The parade of triumph over, Anne and the ladies descended from the pavilion to converse with the crowd until Queen Katherine chose the most ill-timed moment to retire. Anne threaded through the crowd smiling and greeting the few familiar faces, exchanging the odd comment on the day's games, until a hand gripped her shoulder and a friendly voice saved her from small talk.
"Giving favours to Brandon now? What would Daddy say if he saw you?" George smiled as Anne spun round to face him.
"I was pretty and I was there, it was nothing. You know Charles, he can't help himself." The use of Charles' name struck George; as far as he was aware there had been neither occasion nor intimacy between families to warrant the use of first names.
"Charles? You're sure it was nothing? Anne, promise me you won't so anything... stupid"
"Me? Stupid? Impossible George, perhaps you should have given Mary that warning and saved us all a great deal of trouble." She wandered through the crowd a little more, her brother at her side like a trusty spaniel. "But now I think on it; the best friend of a King. There could not be a more influential stead than if I were to bed Wolsey" a horrid thought crossed her mind and a shiver of repulsion crept up her back between her shoulders.
"Anne," George sighed. There was a call for the Queens ladies.
"Don't worry about me brother, I can handle myself" She squeezed his chin playfully between her thumb and forefinger. Anne bid her brother farewell then turned away to follow the line of ladies leaving the field. William, Anthony and Charles were gathered by the armourer's tent reminiscing over their sport as the ladies filled past them. The former two ogled every maid that past; judging each detail of their body and face, their stares more suited to a meat market than the Royal court. Except Charles, the notorious rake, who looked at no other save for Anne. As she caught his gaze Charles shifted his stance raising his right hand a little where her green ribbon was tangled in his strong fingers. She demurely nodded and sneaked him a smile before losing sight of him, however, Charles remained on her till the last, watching her loose hair bounce on her shoulders with the rhythm of her steps and unashamedly lingering on her swaying hips.
"Not riding today your Majesty?" The question snapped Charles back to his companions. The King made some pitiable excuse about the Queen's concern for his safety.
"Women" Anthony piped into the conversation, a slight slur lining his words, "It were better they were born unable to speak" There was little laughter before Charles swooped in,
"Not at all. There's nothing I like to hear better than a woman begging for more or screaming my name." He flashed a suggestive smile before riding the waves of Henry and William's loud laughter with success.
"Come Charles walk with me" Henry threw his arm over Charles' shoulder and led him away from Anthony's scorn. When away from prying ears Henry turned to Charles.
"I have a favour to ask of you".
Since her return from the joust Queen Katherine had closeted herself in her private chapel, kneeling before a statue of the Virgin surrounded by flickering candles, praying that God would see fit to grant her a son. Meanwhile, her ladies plied their needles over the shirts and shifts she bade they stitch for distribution among the poor. However, the industrialism did not last and each found their own distraction; from time to time one would pluck desultorily at a lute, toy with the ivory keys of the virginals, or yawningly take up one of the edifying volumes about the saints' lives that Her Majesty encouraged them to take turn reading aloud. Anne was sat at the window with a book while most of the ladies were engrossed in a game of trumps. She could not focus on her text as the shrieks of others interrupted her concentration. She gazed wistfully out at the river, sighing longingly at the thought of the cool breeze and eyeing enviously those already strolling along its banks. Suddenly there was the echo of footsteps marching down the corridor to the Queen's Chambers. The ladies near jumped from their seats to smooth their dresses or pull back a loose strand of hair from their bonnet, each fostering a little hope that it was a suite come to court them. The door opened and Charles came with an attendant carrying a parcel of gold cloth. Anne had an ominous feeling stir in the pit of her stomach.
"Mistress Boleyn, may I speak with you privately." Charles asked with a flirtatious smile. The ladies giggled with excitement and envy in equal measure behind her as Anne stammered and left her place at the window. She followed him into the neighbouring room where the Queen sometimes sat for meals when not dining with the King.
"Charles" She began but was cut deftly in her tracks as she saw his manner drop, his eyes livid with jealousy.
"I am to deliver this" he gestured to the gold cloth "and this letter to you. From the King" Anne swallowed hard, it had begun. The attendant placed the parcel on the table and quietly stood to the side. Rather than leave Charles grabbed Anne's arm and firmly pulled her close so that he spoke almost directly into her ear. "He will not stop until you are a Whore and your house at Hever a brothel" Charles warned through his teeth. He threw the letter on top of the package and stormed out of the chambers. Anne stood frozen in the wake of the squall, the gold parcel beckoning her like the forbidden apple that doomed Eve, the door to Hell begging to be opened. Slowly she pulled back a fold of cloth then another, her heart beating in her throat. Four magnificent broaches gleamed up at her; one of rubies set in three circlets of gold, the second a precious stone set on gold and pearl like a blue egg on a golden nest, the third had small and large tear drops of pearls with gold and purple stones in the detail of a lion's head, and, lastly, layers of silver gold feathers laced with amber.
Oh God. Her hands shaking Anne reached for the letter and broke the seal. As she unfolded the letter a note fell out. It simply read 'The maze, tomorrow at noon – Charles'.
"You came?" Charles turned as the sound of Anne's footsteps crushing the grass alerted him of her presence. He watched her in awe; she wore a blue almost grey dress with white beads sewn into the bodice. It suited her more than well and reflected the light perfectly, though being of the Spanish fashion it covered more than what Charles wanted to see. She wore her hair loose, her shiny locks swaying free and gypsy-like. He wanted to run to her and gather her up in his arms but the dejected expression on her face warned him against his urge. She stopped short of him barely able to look him in the eye.
"And if I hadn't?" There was a silence. "Would you have found another? I know of your reputation Mister Brandon. You chastise me that the King shall make me a whore where you have done the same to others." Anne desperately tried to make her voice sound angry and resentful but even she wasn't convinced. As stupid as kissing Charles would seem when she was to seduce the King, Anne realised that was the only thing she wanted to do, more than anything. Her chest tightened when he looked at her. She motioned to say something but was caught under Charles' lips crushing the words into silence. His kiss was hard and filled with the sort of passion only found in tales of Knights. He snaked his hand around the back of her neck and her waist holding her firmly too him. Anne held his face in her hands before letting them explore his back and chest, feeling each of his muscles tense and relax under her touch. Charles ran his tongue over her bottom lip demanding admittance; willingly she obliged and parted her lips. He kissed her with such force and want that she had never experienced before, and she wanted more. It went on and on until she thought the whole world was involved in this kiss in Charles' mouth on hers. She could feel her breath speeding up. And yet, a sobering thought came to Anne and she abruptly pushed him off.
"No" She caught a gasp of air Charles kissed her again and was held back again; "no". Anne broke from his grasp and desperately held him at arm's reach. "Do not suppose you have any claim on me" the anger in her voice more out of bitterness at another thing she was to be denied and the knowing of harm to come. "You must never ask of me, never seek my company or attempt to send me letters." Anne ran away, Charles' calling after her all too loud in her ears. Only did she stop when she was safely within the walls of the palace and away from all human company. She let out a sob, her breath ragged as Anne fought the urge to cry. She hated her father, hated the King, herself, and all things in this tiny world of gentry. Anne had to get out of the gilded prison, leave to Hever and perhaps in time her heart will forget that the crown shall be her shackle.
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