Mary's heart felt lightened although she knew there would be a reckoning with her father and uncle. She danced, recklessly, with the king and any other partner who sought her out. She was done with playing the faithful wife, for now. If William saw himself entitled to a knighthood and properties from her liaison with Henry, let him have them. For herself she didn't care.
Nor did she care when she was summoned to the presence of Sir Thomas and her uncle Norfolk the next morning before mass. Answering their questions now seemed easy. "No" she had not yet slept with Henry, "Yes" it was likely that she would, she did not know when but suspected it would be soon. How soon? Who could tell?
Father and Uncle were clearly not satisfied with her answers but pressing her did no good. Both men had titles and wealth, what more could they want. Both her father and uncle belonged to the prestigious order the Knights of the Garter, the highest honor they could hope to attain, the only thing left was more wealth and how much did a man truly need.
"Has the king mentioned getting rid of the queen?" asked Norfolk, shocking Mary with his blunt manner.
"How could he, Uncle? He has no grounds for annulling his marriage and divorce would mean he could not remarry in the church. And I was married in the church, too, how would he have my marriage dissolved?"
"If you had his son…"
"He has a son, Bessie Blount's Henry Fitzroy. He even recognized him and gave him the titles of Duke of Richmond and Somerset. She wasn't married when she had him, unlike me. If we have any children they will take my husband's name, they will be Carey."
Henry had always taken married mistresses so that any children that resulted of their union would take their husband's name. Bessie Blount was an exception. She had been one of the queen's maids of honor and when Henry laid eyes on her he had been smitten. The young Bessie had returned his affections and they had embarked upon an affair that had resulted in a son, a son Henry had honored with his name and the title "Fitz Roy". Henry had ended their affair and married her off but acknowledged their son.
"Have you had a pregnancy with William? Is he capable of fathering children?"
"I don't know, Father. I have been hoping for a child and we have been trying but I have not become pregnant, yet. I do not know if he has sired any bastards outside of our marriage."
"Well, we know Henry is fertile, and unless you are barren, you could easily conceive a child with him."
"But what will that buy you, Father? A little money, a little bit of land? He can't marry me. If you want a Boleyn queen, it will have to be Anne." And best hope that she is more capable than the queen of having children.
"The Ormond marriage may have fallen through but we are hoping for a good match for Anne."
"And am I to be the means of procuring it? I thought you had made a good match for me with William, but you were quick to cast him aside and throw me at the king."
"Be warned, Mary, I will not tolerate such insolence from you, you are still my daughter." Her father's voice was stern, meant to be threatening, but knowledge of the king's affection was giving her courage.
"Why, what have I to lose? Will you take the king away from me? Fine, I will reconcile with my husband. He will have to take me back, if for appearances only. Anne is only a year younger than me, you can throw her at the king if he will have her. She at least is single, if you can get Henry away from the queen and somehow manage to help him get his marriage annulled, maybe you marry Anne to him."
She stood up, tired of the conversation, "I will do my best with the king, that is all you can ask of me. I will break the vows I took with my husband and be an adulteress again. After all, I do know how to be the mistress of a king, I did it with Francis, I can do it again." She curtsied and turned to leave the room.
"We have not given you permission to leave, Mary," Uncle Howard glared at her.
"For once I am not going to ask for it," she answered, "And besides, the queen will not like it if I am late to mass." She shut the door behind her, her heart pounding, then went to the queen's chambers, hoping she was not too late.
"How dare you talk that way to Father and Uncle? They will put you in a convent and where will you be then." Anne had been snooping and Mary had expected it.
"They won't do that, not until they are done with me and only if William were to agree. They have too much to gain if I have a liaison with the king, they won't pass on that opportunity now that Henry is showing interest. And what do you think they will do to you if they find out you were eavesdropping on a private conversation? Shouldn't you be with the queen?"
"We both should, hurry or we will miss mass and that is a sin she will not forgive." Anne took Mary's arm and they hurried to the queen's rooms.
That night she wore the gold brocade gown she had worn at the Field of the Cloth of Gold, the night Henry had made his intentions plain. It was a deliberate choice, reminding both Henry and William of the feast that night. Henry took her hand, smiling, and led her in the first dance, then danced with her again and again.
The stag he had killed during the day before had been prepared and placed the spit, when the guests finally partook of it, Henry's cooks had roasted it to perfection. It was given a place of honor in the center of the table, surrounded by the other delicacies the guests would consume.
The first slice was put on the king's plate, but he sent the second slice to Mary, aware that those who observed might talk. Mary, self-conscious, took a bite, then looked up at Henry and smiled. It had not been a wise move on his part, but she recognized it for the gesture that it was.
The floor was cleared after the feast, and the dancing resumed. Because of her ill health the queen's dancing days were over, but she would sit at her table and applaud the dancers. If she noticed that Henry danced more frequently with Mary Carey, or seemed to hold her too closely she gave no sign. Dignity and deportment had been schooled into Catherine of Aragon and she kept her emotions at bay, if she felt jealousy or resentment she did not show it.
Mary loved to dance, and tonight she stayed on the dance floor, not stopping to rest. She would dance all night if it meant dancing with Henry—again and again.
Norfolk and Thomas Boleyn were pleased to see their pretty daughter in the arms of the king. Let nature take its course, Boleyn told his brother-in-law. The king is clearly smitten with her, it is only a matter time until he takes her to his bed. They were both surprised at Mary's outburst, but if she succeeded, it could be overlooked—for now.
"Mary, how long will you continue to break my heart?" the king whispered in her ear, "Say you will come to me tonight. Meet me in my chambers at midnight, I will be waiting for you."
"Yes, Henry," she told him, using his first name, "I will come to you tonight," and the longing was plain in her eyes, even as another took her away from the king.
Midnight was early for the dancing to end, but the room was cleared as the queen retired to her chambers. Ever the gentleman, Henry escorted her to her chambers, politely declining the invitation to come in and have a glass of wine.
Rose helped Mary undress, then took the pins out of her hair andbrushed it until it hung in a shiny curtain down her back. She put on a linen night gown heavily trimmed with lace and over it a warm velvet robe—it would be cool in the morning when she returned to her room.
There was a knock at the door. Mary expected it would be Anne but one of the king's chamberlains had come to take Mary to Henry.
"Are you ready Mistress Carey?" he asked politely and she nodded.
Rose kissed her. "I will try to keep the fire lit so the room will be warm when you return. What should I say…?"
"To William? Nothing, he will know where I am. This is what they have been waiting for, after all. They want me in the king's bed, so now they have their wish." She kissed Rose, "Wish me luck, I don't know if I'm ready for this."
The palace seemed strangely empty at night, although there were the usual servants scurrying about, making sure that preparations would be ready when their majesties emerged from their rooms to start their day.
Mary was lost in thought. I have ought this for so long, both Henry and Father and Uncle and now here I am. I am terrified at the thought of what I will be expected to do, but Henry has been so kind lately that I have changed my opinion of him. I certainly prefer him to Francis, he was never kind, he only took advantage of my youth and the fact that we ladies were unsupervised and naïve. What would he have done if I had become pregnant?
She had no time to continue that thought for they had arrived at Henry's door. The guards admitted her and she made her way, gingerly into Henry's bedroom.
He was seated at a table and before him was a carafe of wine and two glasses. He stood up, "May I offer you a glass of wine, Mistress Carey."
She nodded, "That would be lovely, sire."
"No, please, when we are alone call me Henry. Your Majesty or Sire are for when we are around others. Please, say my name."
She took the glass he offered her, "Thank you Henry," she said, and he smiled.
They drank their wine, gazing deeply into the other's eyes. At last Henry set his glass down, then took hers. "Kiss me Mary," he told her and took her into his arms.
She loved the feel of his lips on hers, gentle yet firm and strong. She made no objections as he pushed her robe from her shoulders, then undid the ribbons of her night dress.
"I want to see you," he said, "I want you; I want all of you. Tell me you belong to me for as long as I like."
"I belong to you, Henry," she said simply, "There is no other besides you, there couldn't be."
Her nightdress fell to the floor, and she saw the look on his face as she stood before him. "You are so beautiful," he told her, "Like a goddess, like Diana."
She smiled as she knew she should, but her time at the French court had taught her a little about men. He had probably said something like this to the queen when she was young, or to Bessie Blount. Now he was saying it to her although she knew she was just one of many.
He carried her to the bed and removed his robe. She could see his erection, that he wanted her, and as he began to caress her she became aroused, too, and was ready for him when he entered her.
