The trip to France had started out so hopeful, but now with Henry pursuing her Mary could take no joy in the festivities. To make things worse, Henry made no secret of his intentions to her. In public, he may as well have been a loving, or at least dutiful husband, but he was becoming adept at finding the young Mistress Carey when she was alone.
At first, he had kept his distance and Mary had breathed a sigh of relief. It had only taken a short time for her to realize he had no intention of yielding to her wishes, though as yet he had only kissed her. When he thought no one was watching he would give Mary a smile, or he would bow to her with a great flourish, letting her know she was still in his sights.
Anne, with her curious face, would watch the king intently when he was around Mary. Sooner or later Mary would have to yield, all her protestations would be for naught. She had not yet told her father what Mary revealed to her, she was saving it for the right moment.
Mary was bound for the king's bed and the Boleyns would flourish. Sir Thomas was already high in the king's favor, but if Mary became his mistress the family would rise to even greater heights.
The celebration was to last two more weeks, but Mary was ready to go home. Perhaps she could obtain leave to go to Hever or Rochford and put her out of the king's reach, but she would need permission from her father and William. Would they understand or would her father demand that she remain at court and give in to the king's wishes?
It had been a good day, or a day as good as she could expect. There had been jousting matches in the afternoon and William had proudly carried her favor. He had won two of them and had received a silver medal engraved with the images of Henry on one side and Francis on the other to commemorate the celebration. He had proudly given it to Mary, putting his arms around her in front of the participants and audience. "This is my wife," the gesture said, "And I am proud that she is."
They walked arm in arm to their living quarters, not caring what people thought. When they reached their pavilion, William kissed her, and they removed their clothes and made stolen love for an hour or so until they had to get ready for the night's feast.
The neglected queens were at their perfidious husbands' side, bejeweled and dressed in their finery. Queen Claude suffered the burden of being plain of face, as well as lame, saddled with a husband who valued beauty in women. Queen Catherine's beauty had faded and she had grown plump through her numerous pregnancies. She had not given the king a living son-that had happened with his former mistress Elizabeth Blount. The fact that she was a former lady-in-waiting only rubbed salt in the wound.
Was there no such thing as a faithful husband and a joyous marriage? Mary watched as the faithless kings ogled and leered at the beauties that came and went, despite the presence of their patient wives.
She turned to William and smiled. As handsome as Francis and Henry were, she would not trade either of them for William. She would not be forced into Henry's bed, they could not make her violate her marriage vows. And the marriage had been consummated, only the church could dissolve it-separation due to parental ambition was not grounds for divorce.
Anne walked past her and smirked. "Good evening sister, brother. You are looking very lovely tonight Mary, I saw the king looking at you, did you notice?"
How could you? Mary glared at Anne, was she trying to cause a rift between her and William so she would go more willingly to the king's bed?
"That's enough of you, Anne, you may leave. The king paid no more attention to me than he did to any other woman here tonight, including you. He and Francis are well-known roues, no woman is safe from their attentions. Oh, William, they've started dancing, let's join them." She took William's hand all but dragged him to the dance floor.
She lost herself in dancing, trying to put Anne's words out of her mind. Had she told their father yet? If so, she could imagine nothing worse. She should have known that Anne would try to sabotage her happiness. She was happily married to a man she loved who loved her. William was high in the favor of the king, surely Henry would reward him with a knighthood someday. The negotiations for Anne's marriage had fallen through and no immediate match was in the making.
"She's jealous," thought Mary, "For once in my life she is jealous of me! Anne the golden child, Anne of the greater intellect, Anne the first choice is jealous. I have made a good match and Anne has no one, and she can't stand it."
That night William dismissed their servants and helped Mary out of her gown and into bed. He took her in his arms and lifting her heavy hair placed feather-light kisses on her neck.
"Tell me what Anne was about?" he asked, and Mary drew away from him.
"What do you mean, William? Anne was just being unpleasant—for the first time in our lives she is jealous of me."
"I have noticed the king staring at you, I've just said nothing. I'm married to one of the most beautiful women at court and they draw the king's attention—but sometimes he singles you out, or so it seems."
"Oh William, I do not wish for the king's attention, and I promise you I will be no Bessie Blount. The king is bored with the queen and flirts with any woman who will pay attention to him. I am not interested and perhaps that presents a challenge to him—and this is a king who loves games. I hope that looks will be the only thing he sends my way."
"I do not want to lose you, my Mary, not to the king or anyone. I married you with the hopes that we would spend our lives together. Only death can separate us, not the will of your father or the king."
I wish I was as sure as you, thought Mary, my family has never cared about what I wanted. I hope Anne keeps her mouth shut because if she tells Father I am doomed.
The courts were decamping, the French back to Paris, and Henry and the members of the English court headed back to England. By all accounts, the treaty signing had been successful, if only symbolic. The ambitious young monarchs of Spain, France, and England would again declare war against each other.
"I wish we could stay on ship forever," Mary thought, deep in a daydream, "No father, no Anne, no King Henry to think about." What would she be facing when she stepped once more on shore?
The answer came the next day. Her father had called a family meeting to which William was not invited. He paid it no mind, he was busy serving his king, but Mary knew better.
She knew it the minute she walked into her father's rooms. They sat around the table, her father, Uncle Norfolk, her mother, while Anne and George stood, off to the side, Anne with a smug smile on her face.
You told, you bitch, thought Mary. You just couldn't keep your mouth shut, could you? I have a good marriage but even with the help of Cardinal Wolsey and the king, they couldn't manage to make the Butlers yield and take you. Now you want to ruin my happiness.
"Ah Mary, you are late as usual," Sir Thomas said, "But now that you're here we can start. Tell me," He leaned close to her, "How long has the king been attracted to you?"
She opened her mouth, then shut it as she looked at Anne. "Not long Father, I am newly married and have not paid attention to anyone but my husband." All right, Anne, she thought, have your say, I know you're dying to.
"That is not what I have heard," said Uncle Norfolk. He looked at her, his cold, coal-black eyes burning into hers, "I was told by your sister. She heard from another lady-in-waiting that the king has had his eye on you since before your wedding."
"Do you pay attention to gossip then, Uncle? I don't think I'm significant enough for the king to give serious thought to. There is a whole court of ladies for him to choose from, why choose me?"
Anne could contain herself no longer. "I saw the king kiss her. Are you going to tell me that was my imagination, Mary?"
"Yes, he did," Mary admitted reluctantly, "And then I slapped him and told him to leave me alone." She wished that she had Anne's nerve.
"Is this true?" Mary did not like the look on her father's face. She knew that look of calculation and cunning of old and what it meant. She nodded.
"That was foolish of you, very foolish," said Sir Thomas, "You have a duty to your family, your actions affect us all. Has anything happened since?"
"No, Father, he just looks at me and smiles."
"And you? What do you do?"
"I try to avoid him. I am happily married, and I wish to be a faithful wife to my husband. If you want a pawn to throw into this game, why not use Anne?"
"Because you are married and she is not. If you have children, they will take your husband's name because by law they will be his. And the king has not taken an interest in Anne, he is trying to show favor to you. And you were not so averse to being in the bed of a king before," he added slyly.
"I was young and foolish, and Queen Mary did not supervise her maids well, she had her own concerns. I was green, I knew next to nothing about men. Francis was handsome and seductive and I was easily influenced by him. I have regretted what I did ever since. William has been kind, I told him about my past to give him a chance to refuse the marriage, but he did not. We are very happy and now you want to destroy my happiness and my marriage."
"Your marriage and your happiness mean nothing to me. Your first allegiance is to the Boleyns and the Howards and what you can do for us," her father's tone was cold, she had never seen him like this, not even when he had heard of her behavior in the French court. "You stand to gain advantage for all of us if you are in the king's bed and that is where you are bound, my girl."
Mary choked back a sob and turned and fled, not waiting to be given permission. She did not care what they thought. She had to restrain herself from running through the crowd of people that was always present at court.
She reached their rooms, now a welcome retreat. She tore the pins that fastened her hood to her long hair, then freed her hair from the net that restrained it, and began to cry.
"My lady," Rose came and guided her to the bed. She poured a glass of wine and held it to Mary's lips. "Here, drink this and tell me what's wrong."
" Father and Uncle Norfolk are forcing me into the king's bed. They don't care about my marriage and what I want, all that matters is the Boleyn ambition. I had hoped to give William children, I'm hoping I might be pregnant, but it is too soon to tell. Oh Rose, what am I to tell William? That his wife is now to be the king's whore because her family thinks it will advance them? That neither he nor I matter? That what he wants for his wife is not important?"
Rose put her arms around her and held her while she sobbed in her arms. "My lady," she said, "It is too soon to know if you are pregnant, but in a week or so we will know. If you are pregnant, maybe the king will lose interest and that will certainly please your husband."
"If Rose, if," Mary said dully, "But how do I know that will even help? I do not trust my family, all they care about is what this might gain for them. I feel like I have lost a battle I thought I had won."
