Chapter 4

I was seated in the gardens, revelling in the lovely spring day, and reading aloud to Blanche from one of our favourite tales, Mallory's Morte de Arthur, when Edward's letter first reached me.

It was one of the first nice days we'd had this year, and I had seized the opportunity to ask our tutors to let us study outside, for lively Tudor that I was, long hours of being cooped up indoors, especially during winter, never suited me. Luckily, they had granted me my wish, and so, now that our lessons were over, Blanche and I had remained outside with a couple of our ladies present for form's sake – in the weeks since I had lost and then regained our father's favour, I was being very careful not to do anything that might incur his wrath again – or at least, not while there was any chance of him finding out.

Blanche, sitting with her back against a nearby tree, was sketching whilst I read, her hand flowing over the page of her sketchbook in skilled confident lines. Glancing up from my book, I watched my little sister quietly with something akin to envy. She was a skilled artist, which was something I'd never be. I was too impatient for that. No, words and physical skills such as riding and archery were my forte, whereas singing and art were my little sister's.

Laying aside my book, I got up and tried to creep up on Blanche to see what she was drawing, but to no avail. I was too careless and let my shadow fall over her page. Fiercely possessive as ever, she snapped her sketchbook shut and clutched it to her chest, refusing to open it, no matter how much I pleaded.

"No! It's not finished yet! You know I hate it when you look, Bessie! Especially if I'm not finished!"

I was about to retort, about to let her know that I was her sister; I wouldn't laugh, that she could trust me, when eager voices reached my ears.

"Elizabeth! Bessie! Beth!"

I turned. My younger half-sisters, Eleanor and Jessica Culpepper, were running towards me, clamouring for my attention. Kneeling down to their height, I opened my arms to them.

"Nora! Jess! How are my darling sisters this morning?"

"Well!" Nora, the bolder of the twins, snuggled into my arms and looked up at me with candid dark eyes, as I pulled Jessica into our embrace too. "Will you play with us?"

I was about to refuse, but one look at Nora's bright little face and Jessica's wistfully hopeful one and I couldn't find it in my heart to say no.

"All right then. As long as we don't disturb Blanche. She's busy drawing." Releasing Jessica and straightening up with Nora in my arms, I smiled at the twins' nurse. "You may go, Constance. I'll take care of them for now."

"Very well, Your Highness. Thank you." Constance curtsied and withdrew, vanishing back into the palace. I turned back to Jessica. "Well then, Jess. What shall we play?"

I directed the question at Jessica, but it was Nora who chose, as she did only too often. She chose chase, so we played that until their legs tired and then I started to weave flower crowns for them both, inventing an elaborate story about two girls who lived in a forest on their own and one day found a unicorn and a magic kitten who took them on lots of adventures as I did so.

It was whilst I was immersed in this activity, secure in the knowledge that Father wouldn't find out; he was at Whitehall on State business, though Blanche and I were to join him at Greenwich for the May Day celebrations; and anyway, I could always bribe or threaten any of my maids into silence if need be – that a liveried page came up to me, bowed and gave me a small roll of parchment, sealed tightly with wax and bound with scarlet ribbon.

Dropping Nora's half-finished crown of flowers into my lap and breaking off the tale I was telling them, I opened the letter.

"It is done. Anne will arrive at Court in time for St. George's Day.

Ever yours, my Elizabeth.

Edward"

My heart leapt, but I could see that my half-sister, the Lady Mary, who still served me, as she had done ever since I was a baby, had raised her head in what she tried to pretend was just casual interest, but I knew very well was not, so I laid Edward's letter aside and carried on weaving flowers for Nora's hair.

After I had done that, I smiled at them, hugged them, promised to visit them in their rooms as soon as I could and then sent them back to their rooms with Lady Susanna, one of my most favoured Ladies in Waiting.

I got to my feet and started to gather my things, hoping to get inside before Lady Mary presumed to speak to me, but to no avail. She set aside her Bible immediately, and strode over, dropping into a reluctant curtsy as she reached me. Keen to get this over with, I jerked my head to tell her she could rise.

"I do wish you wouldn't spend time with those baseborn Culpepper brats, Sister." Mary started, even before she had properly risen out of her curtsy. "They are the product of an illegal, adulterous union, and much as I hated your mother, you and Blanche are still my sisters. I wouldn't like you to be corrupted by their influence. And as to that letter, who sent it?"

That did it. I wouldn't stand for Mary prying into my private affairs. After all, I was still a Princess, no matter what had happened to my mother.

"That is quite enough, Lady Mary." I interrupted, my voice steely with anger. "Eleanor and Jessica are in no way going to corrupt either me or Blanche. They are two innocent children, who do not deserve to be punished or held accountable for their parents' sins. Did Our Lord Jesus Christ himself not say "Let the little children come to me?" That's what I intend to do. It is only my duty as a good Christian, after all." I took a breath and paused to let that sink in before continuing. "I view Eleanor and Jessica as my sisters, and since I do, it is only natural that I will spend time with them. Besides, I am worried about the way they will turn out if I do not concern myself with them. They have no mother to guide them, after all, and they are still so young and impressionable. I merely want to help them as they try to find their place in this world. I know you will understand my feelings perfectly, since it is for exactly the same reason that you concern yourself with the state of not only my soul, but also Blanche's."

"If the King knew, Sister -"

I cut Mary off, tired of the argument. "But the King does not know, Lady Mary. Nor will he, for, though I know better than to forbid you to tell him, I hope I can rely on you, of all people, not to try to impede the Christian virtues of kindness, pity and mercy."

With that, I swept away, my other Ladies in Waiting scurrying behind, carrying my books and cape. I held Edward's letter tight in a clenched fist, heart thudding.

"It's done. It's done." The words echoed in my mind, easing my turmoil. Anne would be soon be back at Court, as she deserved to be.

Anne would be back at Court and my defiance of my father would be complete.

Two weeks later, it was St. George's Day and Blanche and I were back at Court for the celebrations.

As the joust began, Father and I paraded up to the Royal Box with great pomp and ceremony, Blanche, who, with our half-brother still banished to Wulfhall in disgrace, had the great fortune to be escorted by His Grace the Duke of Suffolk, two or three paces behind us.

As we took our seats, Edward Brandon, the latter's son, whispered into my ear "I hope you will enjoy the joust, My Lady Princess. May I ask which knight will be lucky enough to gain your favour today?"

I turned to answer him, longing to kiss him, but with the eyes of the Court upon us, I could not. Instead I answered his question with a question. "Do you not joust today, my Lord?"

Edward smiled as he realised where this was leading. "I do, for the first time. My father has finally decided I am old enough."

"Well then. May Lady Fortune smile upon you."

"Thank you, my Lady Princess. Now, I had best go and prepare." Edward bowed to me, and went to leave, but my father called to him as he broke off his conversation with the Duke of Suffolk.

"Well, Lord Edward, I hear you are to joust for us today."

Edward swept a deep bow as he replied. "Aye, Your Majesty. I look forward to it. I am heartily grateful that my father allowed me to stay at Court for the St. George's Day celebrations and I hope to repay him by proving myself worthy to tilt with the best knights in England, nay, in Christendom."

My father roared with approving laughter, waving Edward away, and Edward took his cue, bowing, backing off and turning to leave the pavilion. Before he left, however, he leant over the back of my chair to murmur "I do not need Lady Fortune to smile upon me. Only you, my Princess."

I couldn't turn to reply to that, not in front of the Court, but my heart skipped a beat as he spoke and when, a few minutes later, he rode up to the stands on his bright bay hunter and asked for my favour, I gave it to him without a second thought.

Much to my delight, he won his joust, but there was no time to congratulate him, for now the older men of the Court were tilting for us, and all of a sudden, George Boleyn, Anne's elder brother, was riding up to the stands on his horse and drawing rein as he bowed before my father.

"With Your Majesty's permission, I would like to ask for the favour of one of the Princesses."

Father gazed at him searchingly for one long moment and then nodded stiffly. "Granted, Master Boleyn. Elizabeth?"

I started to rise, untying the ribbon I still wore around my other wrist, but George shook his head, smiling gently across at my younger sister. "I was wondering, Sire, if I might beg for the favour of the Princess Blanche?"

Surprised, I slowly sat back down as Blanche rose to her feet and walked forward to the edge of the stands. She untied the silver ribbon that she wore around her wrist and reached up towards George. George, for his part, tilted his lance down into the stands so that she could tie her favour around the end. Then he bowed to her courteously, his eyes warm, soft and generous, and rode away. Blanche watched him go and then turned and came back to her seat. Her sapphire eyes were sparkling and I didn't doubt the reason.

George was the first ever gentleman to ask her for her favour and she took a childish delight in this sign that she was growing up. Of course, the bestowing of her favour meant nothing at her age – it didn't hold the significance that it did for Edward Brandon and I, but nevertheless, it meant something to her.

Smiling, I took Blanche's hand and squeezed it as George turned his horse at the top of the lists before charging at his opponent, Sir Francis Knollys.

With one firm thrust of his arm, George caught Francis between the shoulder blades and knocked him sideways in the saddle. Francis clung on, but George was clearly the superior horseman and two or three passes later, he was indeed declared the victor. Forgetting her dignity, Blanche leapt to her feet and applauded her champion, calling out above the clamour "Bravo, Sir George! Bravo!"

My eyes snapped over to my father. Would he be angry at Blanche's show of emotion?

He wasn't. Surprisingly, he wasn't.

The courtiers were all laughing and smiling indulgently at their pretty Princess's delight and Father, knowing how important it was for us to charm the people, was smiling along with them. In fact, he even beckoned Blanche to his side, and snaked his arm around her waist as he gave out the prizes, so that the two of them stood happily united, much to the people's wild joy.

Then Father rose to his feet and proclaimed the joust over, leading us inside for the banquet.

I sat between Blanche and my Father, and we had just started on our meat course when the Master of the Revels, Andrew Cornish, entered and glanced at the dais. Father nodded abruptly and Master Cornish signed to the musicians, who struck up a gay salladre. A dozen young women, all clad in Tudor Green, came out on to the floor to dance, and a group of young men soon followed, as did the players dressed in wild red fabric. They were all re-enacting the tale of St George and the Dragon.

I watched with pleasure. The annual St. George's Day masque always was my favourite part of the celebrations, and one day I intended to dance in it, whether Father approved or not.

Even more happily, as the masque ended and the knights, dead or alive, rose up to take their bows and dance with their partners, I caught sight of my cousin Anne's distinctive dark tresses flying out behind her as she twirled under the Earl of Surrey's careful hand.

Eager to speak to her, I asked Father if Blanche and I might leave the table and mingle with the dancers. Annoyingly, he refused, so I had no choice but to stay where I was, but, as I chatted aimlessly with Blanche and the other high-ranking ladies who had approached the dais, I noticed that Father's attention was straying from the conversation he and the Duke of Suffolk and the Lord Chancellor were having about the navy.

Stealthily following his gaze, I saw that he kept staring at a little knot of courtiers who had gathered at one end of the hall and were therefore hindering the dancing as couples were being forced to dance around them.

His face dark with anger, Father thrust back his chair and stomped down the steps of the dais, determined to find out who was spoiling the royal entertainment. I watched him go, praying to Goad and all the angels and saints I knew that whoever had had such audacity also happened to possess the wit to amuse him and avert his anger before it ruined the beautiful evening.

I had just started on my sweet course, however, when Father suddenly came back to the High Table, escorting Anne on his arm. She smiled at me and curtsied swiftly. "Princess Elizabeth."

"Cousin Anne." I rose to kiss her on both cheeks, only then realising that it would declare to Father that we had met before. Indeed, he was looking at us oddly, but Anne spun on her heel and faced my father, saying gaily "I served in the Princess Elizabeth's household for a while, Your Majesty. Besides which, my mother, the Lady Elizabeth Boleyn, used to take me and my sister Mary to play with our royal cousins when we were girls. I always looked forward to it."

"Well, my girls can be quite charming." Father blurted, unaware of what he was saying as Anne spoke to him so boldly.

Breathing a silent sigh of relief and thanking God for Anne's swift mind, I sank back into my seat as Anne pulled up a stool and joined us.

The next few hours passed merrily enough, and after the Duchess of Suffolk had retired, pleading a headache, Anne followed her mistress.

Father watched her go, seemingly entranced by her every movement. In turn, I watched him. I'd seen him pursue mistresses, both before and after Mama died, and I knew the signs. Anne had well and truly caught his eye.

The idea of Anne becoming Father's mistress, or even, if he really became entranced with her, his third wife and Queen, threw me into turmoil. I couldn't deny that to have a Howard in a position of influence would be good for Blanche and I, especially if said Howard already knew and liked us, but on the other hand, I was fourteen and in love. I knew what life felt like once you had a sweetheart. If Anne's family pushed her into Father's bed, or worse, on to the throne, Anne's chances at experiencing that for herself would be gone. She was only seventeen!

In that moment, I knew that my bringing Anne to Court had triggered a chain of events that I had no control over. No control whatsoever. The thought filled me with apprehension, but there was nothing I could do. I would just have to watch them pan out and then live with the consequences.