Sir Thomas had arranged for his recently widowed younger sister, Alice Clere, to act as a chaperon for Anne while she was exiled from court. Alice was only thirteen years older than Mary and was finding widowhood boring. Retiring to a convent did not suit her, she had too lively a temperament and was grateful to her brother when he suggested she be a companion to Anne.
He did not realize it, but he had made an excellent choice. Alice did hers best to keep Anne's spirits up during this difficult time. She encouraged Anne to keep up with her studies and her needlework, and practice her music and dancing. Alice was also fond of riding and urged her niece to accompany her on long rides in the afternoon.
In short, she did everything she could to keep Anne from succumbing to boredom. She knew how hard it was for Anne to be away from court, but reminded her that though her exile might feel permanent, it was not.
"Make the most of your time here, Anne, my love, and remember it will not be forever." She thought her brother a fool for leaving Anne isolated in the country for so long. Anne languishing at Hever was a waste, but Sir Thomas was negligent when it came to his daughters. Though the Ormond match had fallen through, he should have found a husband for Anne long ago. It was laziness on his part, and unfair to Anne. Had he found her a husband, the scandal with Henry Percy would not have happened.
And now Mary and her infant daughter had joined them. Alice had not been blessed with children, so she poured out her unsatisfied motherly instincts on the children of others.
"She's darling, Mary," she told her as the baby was put to bed, "I do believe she's going to be a beauty, just like you. It's going to be hard for you to return to court without her."
Mary wiped the tears away that were forming in her lovely eyes. She did not want to be reminded that little Katherine would stay at Hever until it was time for her to be sent to another household. It was the custom for children of the nobility to be send to other houses. It could provide her with numerous opportunities, especially for a good marriage, but it could be hard on the children and their mothers. Mary did not like it, but it was fruitless to fight it.
Alice felt bad for making Mary cry. "Well, she'll be staying here for a while, and I'll take good care of her. You must come and visit when you can, that is all you can do. Believe me, no one ever forgets their mother and she won't forget you."
Alice retired early after dinner, leaving Mary and Anne alone for a while. They sat in the family parlor, a fire burning merrily in the grate. There was an unspoken question and neither was eager to bring it up although it must be said so it could be put to rest.
"Has he married her?" Anne asked, each girl knowing what "he" and "her" meant.
"Yes, he did, his father insisted. It's rumored that he hasn't touched her since the wedding night. He is said to be dreadfully unhappy and she no less so. That will not be a happy marriage, their parents never should have forced it."
"He should have fought for me," said Anne, "And he could have but he was a coward. If he were with me he would be happy."
"Tell me, Anne," Mary replied, "Would you have loved him if he'd renounced his title and his fortune? Would you have loved him if he were simply Henry Percy of Northumberland? Would you have stayed by his side?"
Anne flashed a look at her, but Mary would not back down. Yes, Anne had loved Henry Percy, but she was looking to be a duchess and all the prestige that went with the title, not to mention the wealth. Anne possessed the Boleyn ambition where she did not and without his wealth and the dukedom Henry Percy would not stand a chance with her sister and both girls knew it.
"It's too late now, he's married her and there's nothing to be done. Tell me, how did Henry react to your having a daughter? Do you think he's going to take you back or hook up with that Seymour ninny?"
Mary giggled. Jane Seymour was a ninny but she was also shrewd. Mary did not doubt that she longed to take her place in Henry's affections, but Henry seemed to overlook her. It was small comfort that he had not become attached to any one woman during their forced separation, but what would happen when she returned to court?
"I don't know, Anne. He may take me back, but if not I will go back to William. He's as much as told me that he wants me back. I won't know anything until I return to court. I know that Henry has gifted William and Father with some valuable tracts of land. Everyone but me seems to benefit from my being the king's mistress."
"You don't expect me to believe that," said Anne, "Surely he's given you gifts."
"Yes, a few, but none that anyone would notice. He's worked hard at keeping our liaison from the queen—and I don't mind." If she sounded a little defensive it was because she respected the queen and could not face her if she knew. It was bad enough to know that she slept with her husband, but she could never be like Bessie Blount—Henry had never bothered to hide the fact that he was in love with his queen's young lady-in-waiting.
"He has been good to our family, Anne, our wealth has increased and so has father's position at court. I don't understand why William has not been knighted, you would think that Henry would at least do that for him."
"Why don't you ask him?" Anne was her usual blunt self but Mary brushed her off.
"I don't ask him for anything, I won't. I want nothing more for myself and our family than what he wants to give, and if you ask me, he's given us plenty."
It was growing close to the time for her to leave Hever and return to court. She'd stopped nursing and bound her breasts to stop her milk. Riding was still painful but was growing easier. Part of her was looking forward to returning to court, but that meant that she must leave her infant daughter behind. And Anne, too.
"You don't really want to go back, do you?" Anne said. They were walking in the gardens, admiring the roses that were in bloom. "You'd gladly stay here, admit it."
"Yes, you're right, but Anne, you're not a mother, you don't know what it's like. I don't want to leave here, but I have a job to do. What will it be like I don't know. The king may take me back or he will move on to another mistress. I hope he takes me back, I have missed him and want nothing more than for things to be like they were. If he doesn't, then I return to William and try to make things right with him."
"I envy you, you know," said Anne, "You'll be back at court while I am stuck here with nothing but Aunt Alice for company."
"Your time will come, Anne, you must have faith. You made a bad mistake with Henry Percy, but it's not irredeemable. When you do return you'll dazzle everyone like you did before. I know it's hard, but remember this is not forever." She leaned over and kissed her sister's cheek.
The day she left the dawn came bright and early. Sir Thomas had sent the carriage and she sighed as she got in, wanting nothing more than to run back into the castle, but duty called her and to Windsor, she must go.
There was Henry, too, she had not received a letter or even a message from him and it made her wonder. He had been courteous to her through her pregnancy, but he was fastidious about avoiding her bed lest their lovemaking endanger her pregnancy. She had delivered a healthy girl, further proof he could use to show it was not his fault that the queen had not been able to bear him children that lived and thrived.
She sighed and leaned her head against the cushion. Would Henry take her back, or had he chosen someone to replace her? It had been a long time since she had been in his bed. She had been afraid to tell him she was pregnant but his reaction had not been what she expected. Instead of being angry, his response had been almost tender. He was pleased she had had a healthy pregnancy and that the infant had thrived. He would never acknowledge Katherine, but he did not need to. To the world, she was the child of William Carey.
Her mind began to wander and she remembered her first journey from Hever to court. She had been in disgrace, taken from the French court when her father had found out about her affair with Francois. She had wondered how she would ever recover and then her mother had found her a position as one of Queen Katherine's ladies. Her father then arranged her marriage to William and it seemed that her life was starting to open to new possibilities. A wife, a mother, and someday to be a grandmother, she had seen it all open up before her.
And then Henry had discovered her and in an instant, her life changed.
Who was she now, she wondered. Was she still William's wife or was she a king's mistress? She had left behind a child that belonged to Henry but carried William's name. When she was very young and preyed upon by Francois she had been flattered that she had attracted his attention. She had been so naïve, so ignorant regarding the nature of men that she had been shocked when he lost interest in her so abruptly and offered her to one of his courtiers and slapped her when she refused.
Henry was so different. He could be kind, gentle, even generous and he had never spoken one harsh word to her. She wanted him back, wanted to be in his arms. She could return to William if she must, but Henry held her heart, along with a baby sleeping in a castle twenty miles away.
"How delighted we are to see you, Mistress Carey," Henry took both her hands in his, holding them tightly, then kissing them. "I trust your daughter is thriving."
Mary breathed a quiet sigh of relief, her heart skipping in the joy she felt at the look in his eyes. "She is very well, your majesty, and the most beautiful little girl you could imagine. She will make her father and me proud, someday, I am sure of it. Perhaps when she is old enough I will bring her to court."
"I look forward to meeting her," he said, then leaned close to her and whispered in her ear, "Come to my chambers tonight, Mistress Carey, we have missed you." He released her hands and smiled.
She curtseyed in the elegant manner she had learned at the French court, her skirts almost sweeping the floor. Take that, Father, she thought, I've had his child and unlike Bessie Blount, he is taking me back. You benefitted from my having his child and now you will continue to reap rewards from my having returned. Am I still your worthless daughter, do you wish it was Anne in his bed? She looked at her father and knew the answer.
