Chapter 7
May 1545
Blanche and I returned to Hatfield the week after the banquet and resumed our daily lives, our somewhat monotonous routine only broken by the occasional visit from either Anne or our father and the Christmas season.
However, my father and Anne were marrying in May, with Anne's coronation following on Midsummer's Day.
Since Blanche's tenth birthday fell in early June and Anne was eager to help her celebrate it, the way she had done for me, my sister and I were travelling to Court for May Day and remaining there for the entirety of May and June.
Blanche was giddy with excitement and, though I tried to hide it, I was just as pleased. I had only seen Anne once since the day we chose the fabrics for our gowns for her wedding, almost six months earlier, and that was over the Christmas season, so we had barely had time to speak to one another in between all the festivities. I had missed her desperately.
I was slightly puzzled as to why Anne's engagement to my father had been so long. He wasn't the kind of man to waste time in securing himself a pretty girl, but when I mentioned this to Lady Bryan, my sister's governess, she explained.
"Your father, besides being an impatient man, is also one who believes in such things as symbols, Princess. He wants his marriage to the Lady Anne to represent a new start; both for himself and for England. The best way to do that is to have a summer wedding and coronation, so that's what's going to happen."
The only trouble I had with our visit to Court was the fact that our half brother Edward was travelling with us and sharing a carriage too.
Granted, he didn't actually say anything I could openly object to, but his sullen silence, interspersed with scornful sniffs whenever Blanche questioned me about the wedding and what I thought it was going to be like, said more than enough.
By the end of the journey, I was sick and tired of him, so much so, in fact that, when Kat said "Your Highnesses, Your Grace, we are almost there." I let out an audible sigh of relief, despite the cheers of the common people lining our route and the blessings they shouted upon both Blanche and myself. It was a sigh Edward was only too quick to pick up on.
"Tired of the journey already, Sister? Honestly, anyone could tell you're a Howard. They're always impatient."
"At least the common people seem to wish the Howards well, impatient or not." I replied swiftly, turning to Blanche before Edward had a chance to react.
"Now Blanche, we'll be going to our rooms to change before we go to see Anne. I don't doubt that Father will be there too, so for Goodness sake, don't get too excited this time. They may not be married yet, but Anne will be Queen of England before the month is out. Treat her like it."
Blanche nodded, faint irritation sparking in her eyes as I played the role of the responsible older sister. Edward sneered "Imagine having to tell a Princess how to behave in front of the King. My mother would never have stood for it."
"Your Mama never became Queen. Mine did." Blanche hissed, her cornflower blue eyes flashing briefly.
Edward was so stunned that it was Blanche, the quieter, younger, sweeter Howard Princess that was responding so sharply to his jibe that he actually fell silent and remained that way for the rest of the journey.
Two hours later, washed, changed and rested from our journey to Court, Blanche and I proceeded through the halls of Richmond Palace to be formally received by our father and soon to be stepmother.
For once, Edward was not escorting us, but I was not such a fool as to think that that meant that he would not be putting in an appearance that evening. He was Father's son; his pride and joy. Of course he would be gracing us with his presence. He would walk in alone, every eye in the Court upon him. He would be received almost as though he were a Prince! A Prince!
At the thought of the honour likely to be accorded my half-brother, my teeth clenched. It was not that I would have resented him the honours; not if he'd been my full brother, or even a legitimate Prince of another marriage of my father's. A Prince was more valuable than a Princess. It was just that, as a true-blooded Princess, I felt that I deserved more honour than a bastard Duke. But no, I was not even to walk in alone, as he would. I was to walk in beside my younger sister, sharing the appraisal and reverence of the crowd with her.
Alerted to my inner turmoil and anger by the tautness of my upper back, Blanche slipped an arm around my waist.
Relaxing a little at my beloved sister's touch, I glanced down at her with a smile. Disengaging myself from her hold, I took her hand, whispering "Let's show them how Howard Princesses really behave" before shortening my stride a little so that it matched hers as my father's herald announced "Their Highnesses the Princess Elizabeth and the Princess Blanche!"
Keeping my hand firmly within Blanche's, I halted the required distance away from the dais and sank into a curtsy.
"Your Majesty. Lady Anne."
"You may rise, Daughters." Our father beckoned to us with his free hand, the other being clasped in Anne's.
Side by side, we rose, smiling widely and came forward to first kiss Father's cheek then embrace Anne as she rose and stretched out her arms to us.
"Your Highnesses. How glad I am to see you. Elizabeth. I trust you are well?"
"Yes, My Lady. Thank you for asking. And yourself? How goes it with you?"
"Well enough, Princess, thank you for asking. How did you leave Hatfield?"
"Everything in order and blossoming" I smiled before Anne turned to greet Blanche, embracing her warmly.
"Blanche my dear. How are you? Progressing well in your studies, I hope? Lady Bryan looks after you well?"
"Oh yes. Very well, Lady Anne." Blanche replied eagerly. Anne touched her hand.
"Good, I'm glad. And Blanche? Tonight we can be informal. Call me Mama, if you like."
Anne flashed a look at Father as she spoke, but he only nodded jovially.
"Of course…Mama." Blanche answered with a blaze of a smile. Father roared with laughter.
"Charming little vixen, aren't you, Blanche?"
"I try, Papa."
"With another laugh, Father motioned Blanche to sit beside Anne. I took the other empty seat beside my sister, and had just accepted a tumbler of wine from one of the pages standing ready to serve us, when the herald announced "His Grace Lord Edward FitzTudor, Duke of Richmond and Somerset."
My half brother marched into the room, head held high. Father rose and helped him from his bow – before he had even reached the floor properly, I noted irritably – before turning him to meet Anne properly.
"Anne, my love, may I present my son Edward? Edward, this is your future stepmother, the Lady Anne Boleyn."
"I am pleased to meet you at last, Your Grace. Your father has told me so much about you." Anne spoke so cheerfully, you would never have guessed that Edward's family and hers were practically mortal enemies. Unfortunately, the same could not be said of Edward.
Murmuring "Madam" through gritted teeth, he gave Anne's hand the briefest brush with his lips and then straightened up to speak to Father.
"Father, has Master Swinton told you how I have progressed in fencing this last month?"
Annoyance flared in Father's eyes for the briefest of moments before, at a quiet murmur from Anne, he rearranged his features into a smile and led Edward to a seat at his left hand.
"No, Edward, he did not. Come, tell me all about it."
There was dancing after supper but to my delight, Edward did not partner me. When Father suggested we dance, Anne was quick to agree, saying "Yes. What a wonderful idea, Henry. I'm sure my brother George would like to partner one of his beautiful new nieces. George?"
"Yes, indeed, Anne. Would the Princess Blanche care to dance?" George Boleyn asked, cocking his head to one side as he regarded my little sister, so that he looked ridiculous. Giggling at George's antics, Blanche agreed, jumping up to take his hand.
Satisfied, Anne moved swiftly on, saying "But of course, if her sister is to dance, the Princess Elizabeth cannot be left without a partner. Will you dance with her, Henry?"
Father sighed regretfully. "I wish I was able to, darling, but I can hardly caper through the speed of these dances and anyway, that would leave you without a partner. We can't have that. Why doesn't Elizabeth dance with someone of her own age?"
"Well, if you're sure…" Anne put her hand over Father's and glanced around as though reluctantly. "My Lord Edward, why don't you partner the Princess?"
With a barely repressed sigh, Edward started forward, but Anne halted him in his tracks, shaking her head.
"Not you, Lord Edward. Forgive me, but I would rather you partnered the Lady Mary. No, I meant Lord Edward Brandon. Would you care to dance with the Princess, Lord Edward?"
"My Lady Anne, if it was for you and His Majesty, I could dance with her all night."
Edward Brandon replied, stepping out of the shadows to offer me his arm.
"So too could I dance with him." Hardly able to restrain a beam of delight, I took his arm and let him lead me to the centre of the floor.
"She knows, doesn't she?" Edward asked, glancing back at Anne as the musicians tuned their instruments.
"Of course she does. She's my cousin. I used to tell her everything. Besides which, she heard you sing that song to me for my birthday in September last year. If she hadn't known by then, she will have done afterwards." I reminded him, laughing, twirling slowly on the spot.
Edward clapped hands with me and whirled briefly away as the tempo of the music increased.
"True. I'd forgotten she was there." he replied as he returned to take me into his hold. "Have you heard about the plans for her wedding banquet?"
"No. I know I'm to be bridesmaid, along with Blanche, but nothing else." I ducked under the arch made by two of our fellow dancers, before Edward and I replaced them at the head of the line. As, a few bars later, we made an arch of our own for the others to dance through, Edward picked our conversation back up.
"My father's in charge, and apparently Anne's asked him to make sure you and Edward are not paired together. Or he and Blanche for that matter. She clearly doesn't trust you around him."
"We're not the problem! He is! It's his arrogance that annoys me!" I retorted automatically, before realising that Edward was having trouble hiding his amusement.
"Will you let me finish? He's pairing William Paulet with Blanche, and, because my father has to escort my mother and my brother has to escort his fiancée…" Edward trailed off, but I was easily able to finish his sentence for him.
"You'll be escorting me."
Edward nodded and I squeezed his hand. Just then, the point in the music arrived when we had to switch partners and because we found ourselves beside Margaret Neville and her partner Barnaby Fitzpatrick, I danced off with Barnaby while Edward gave his hand to Margaret. Of course this meant that Edward and I were no longer able to continue our conversation, but as the musicians changed tune and we passed each other in our search for new partners; Edward being pressured into asking one of his mother's many Willoughby relations to partner him, he murmured "Remember, My Lady Princess, I stake my claim for a Volta" into my ear. The very warmth of his voice set my spine tingling.
"Princess? Are you ready to go?"
The knock at my bedroom door startled me out of my reverie. I jumped as I realised I had been caught daydreaming.
"Almost. One moment more, Kat!" I exclaimed.
"Well, make it a quick moment then, my Lady. Blanche is already ready and we need to be in the Lady Anne's rooms in little more than a few minutes."
Rather than waste my breath shouting that I knew that, I sprang to my feet and sorted through my jewellery. By rights, one of my ladies ought to have done that, but today I had asked them to leave me alone, even though I had not yet chosen my necklace, so that was up to me.
In the end I decided on the crystal pendant Father had given me as a New Year's gift. Clasping it around my neck, I glanced at myself in my looking glass. My dark green clung to my slender body, accentuating my curves and my red hair was neatly braided and coiled beneath my hood in a complex twist of some sort. I looked every inch the young lady; the regal Princess.
And yet, I still wasn't quite sure of myself. Not today. I wanted to be so perfect for Father and Anne's wedding and I wasn't sure I'd managed it.
"What do you think, Mother?" I whispered. "Do you think Father will be proud of me today? Would you be proud of me?"
All of a sudden, I heard her voice, stronger than I had heard it for years. "Of course he will, Bessie. We're always proud of you. You're our Rose Princess, our Princess of Roses. Now, go to Anne's wedding and bless her in my name. Bless her in the Howard name, daughter. I love you."
"Je t'aime, Maman." I whispered, crossing myself quickly, before hurrying out to join my sister and governess as we made our way to Anne's large, luxurious apartments.
Anne greeted us with true affection as we entered.
"Elizabeth! Blanche! You do look beautiful! True Tudor Roses, both of you!"
"You're beautiful too! You're the prettiest woman I've ever seen!" Blanche cried, eyes shining with excitement. Anne flushed.
"Thank you, Blanche."
"You'll be a Tudor Rose soon enough." I replied carelessly, taking advantage of the fact that we were alone and that Anne wasn't quite Queen just yet to treat her informally, teasingly.
"No. She'll be a Falcon among Roses. Her emblem's going to be the falcon." A second voice replied, making me jump. I whirled around. A second woman, this one in her early twenties, had just entered the room, carrying a heap of silver ribbons in her arms. She had golden brown hair and her eyes, though lighter than Anne's, were just as piercing.
The woman met my eye for a couple of seconds; just long enough for me to register how familiar she looked, before sweeping a low curtsy.
"Princess Elizabeth. Princess Blanche. You have grown up."
"I'm sorry, I don't…" My voice trailed off as I tried to come up with a way of admitting to the woman that I didn't know who she was without actually seeming rude.
To my relief, while I was still standing there, speechless, she straightened and went over to Anne, starting to weave the silver ribbons she was carrying into Anne's raven hair.
"You look beautiful, little sister. If only Mother could be here today; see her little Annie all grown up, about to marry; marry the King of England."
At her words, I realised who the woman had to be.
"If you're calling Anne sister, then…Mary? Mary Boleyn?"
I glanced across at the woman for confirmation and Mary looked up in surprise.
"You've only just realised who I am?"
"Mary! Elizabeth hasn't seen you since you married William Stafford at sixteen! How do you expect her to remember you? I'm sure you've changed in that time! And as for Blanche, I don't think she's ever even met you!"
"That's not true! She has! She was only about four or five, but we've met." Mary answered cheerfully, throwing a smile at my little sister. "I've got a daughter around that age now."
"I know! Lady Anne told me. She's called Katherine, isn't she?" Blanche chimed in, emboldened by Mary's free and easy manner.
"That's right, Your Highness." Mary grinned at Blanche, obviously about to launch into some tale about her life as a wife and mother deep in the English countryside, but the chiming of the church bells cut her off. We glanced at one another. We had to hurry.
Mary wove the last of the ribbons into Anne's hair, Blanche helped pin her veil into place and I kissed Anne on both cheeks before going to pick up the long heavy train of her gown.
"I've never seen you look more beautiful, Anne."
"Thank you, Elizabeth. That means more than you know, Cousin."
Anne cast me a grateful smile; her last one as my cousin and then went out to marry my father. To marry the King of England.
When we appeared in the chapel doorway, there was a collective gasp. In her sumptuous gown of cloth of silver trimmed with dark green velvet ribbon and studded with tiny chips of jade and emerald, Anne looked every inch the radiant young bride; every inch the Queen of England to be.
She acted like it too. When Archbishop Cranmer asked "Do you, Lady Anne Boleyn, take this man King Henry VIII of England, to be your lawfully wedded lord and husband? Do you swear, on your solemn oath before all these witnesses, to love him and cherish him and to honour and obey him for better or for worse, in sickness and in health, and to forsake all other men for him for the rest of your natural lives until death does you two part?", her voice rang out steady and clear as a bell. "I do."
I watched Father's face as Anne spoke. It was shining; shining with joyful excited hope. He was gazing at Anne with an almost puppy like devotion; a devotion so strong it almost unnerved me. It was as though he couldn't believe that this radiant young English beauty was really, in a matter of minutes, going to be his, be his wife and Queen.
And when Cranmer gave him permission to kiss the bride, he kissed her like a starving man might eat a loaf of bread he has just been granted – intensely, concentrated, almost desperately.
Anne staggered slightly as he finally pulled away for breath. Her lips moved silently as she gasped for air and I was close enough to make out the words.
"Your Majesty!" she breathed, offering no resistance when Father reached for her hand to present her to the crowd.
"God save the Queen!" Father bellowed and we shouted it straight back at him, echoing his words in a jubilant bellow. "God Save the Queen!"
Hand in hand, the two of them stepped down of the dais and made their way to the chapel door, acknowledging the murmurs of congratulations from the crowd of nobles as they went.
Rising from my curtsy after they had passed me – Anne smiling down at me as they walked by – I found Edward Brandon already beside me, holding out his hand to me.
"Shall we, Princess?"
"Certainly, Lord Edward." I accepted his outstretched arm, peering around to see who was lining up behind us. William Paulet, the Marquess of Winchester's heir, was stood by my sister, her petite hand already resting on his sleeve, while Thomas Boleyn had been paired with my older half-sister, the Lady Mary.
To my intense delight, I saw that this meant that a certain Duke had been forced to escort our Scottish cousin, the Lady Margaret Douglas, which he was doing with ill grace, a dark scowl marring his otherwise reasonably pleasant features.
"Have you seen how angry he looks?" I hissed, nudging Edward and gesturing to my half-brother with the slightest jerk of my head.
"Hmm. Who do you think he's blaming for this?"
"Me most likely." I sighed. "Or Anne. He's determined to hate her for just about every wrong ever done him."
"It's because of his mother, isn't it? The Lady Jane Seymour?"
"Of course it is! It's ridiculous! Even if she hadn't died of a fever; even if she was still alive today, my father would never have married her!"
"Unfortunately, Edward's managed to delude himself into thinking that he would have done. He thinks Anne's usurped his mother's rightful position as Queen."
I nodded. "Yes. That's it, exactly. I doubt the way my father treats him helps but, yes, you've pretty much hit the nail on the head."
Edward grimaced. "I wouldn't put it past him to try and ruin Anne's coronation. He's worked himself into such a temper."
"I hope he has the sense not to. Anne doesn't deserve it; she's never done anything to him. I hope he can see that. Anyway, Father would be furious!"
"I know that, you know that, but who knows if Edward knows it? Anyway, don't worry about it now. Just enjoy the festivities. I'll be back later to claim you for a dance."
Edward leaned forward and pressed a stolen kiss to my cheek, led me to the dais, kissed my hand, bowed to Anne, who sat alone up there whilst my father spoke to Charles Brandon to thank him for organising such a wonderful banquet, and then disappeared into the milling crowd.
As he left, I swept Anne a curtsy worthy of a Queen.
"Congratulations, Your Majesty." I murmured, using her new title for the first time. Anne laughed.
"Thank you, Princess. Take a seat."
I sat down, stunned by how formal Anne was being with me. However, as I seated myself, Anne leaned towards me.
"Don't tell your father, but it feels very strange hearing you call me that! I've called you "My Lady Princess" for far too long!"
I stifled a chuckle with the palm of my hand and reached for my sparkling wine as Blanche and the Lady Mary joined us on the dais. A couple of people looked askance at my merriment, but I didn't care. There was cause to be merry tonight. A very great cause indeed.