The Secret: A Novel of Anne Boleyn (Tudor Chronicles Book 1) Read online

‘How long will you be gone from court, brother? Gone from me?’ Anne asked as she and George walked arm in arm through the gardens at Hampton Court.

  The others of their group were chatting as they too walked the gardens while the King was with Cromwell.

  ‘Oh, my love, that is so hard to predict,’ replied George softly, bending to pluck a flower and presenting it to Anne with a smile. ‘King Francis, as you know, can be duplicitous when he chooses. He tells us that he supports your marriage to Henry,’ George tried to quell the tremor that had entered his voice. He swallowed, then continued, ‘but he is also trying to negotiate a marriage between his own son Henry and the Pope’s niece Catherine de Medici. He doesn’t want to offend His Holiness by his overt support for England’s Henry.’

  ‘But why you, George? Why is it that you have to go?’ Anne tried to speak quietly and keep the panic that threatened to overwhelm her out of her tone. Her ladies were laughing with the King’s gentlemen, but she didn’t want to be overheard. She was careful to keep her face calm, even though her stomach clenched at the thought of George not being by her side.

  ‘Because now Father is the Earl of Wiltshire, and I am Viscount Rochford in his stead, Henry thinks I will plead your cause to Francis most eloquently. It is quite an honour, my love, I just wished I didn’t have to leave you behind!’

  ‘No more than I, brother.’ Since her illness she hadn’t wanted to be parted from him for very long, as she needed to feel safe. She didn’t quite understand why she felt she wasn’t safe, but Anne always felt better if he was near her.

  ‘And Francis wants our support against Emperor Charles’ threat to invade France. If only Queen Katharine would stop writing to Charles, telling him how badly she is treated here, it wouldn’t be necessary for me to leave you, Anne.’ He sighed in irritation. ‘Wolsey is busy trying to persuade His Holiness to support the annulment, so I have to go and speak to Francis and plead your case to France.’

  Anne concentrated on breathing evenly and tried to put her dark thoughts out of her mind. She knew George had to go, and that by sending him, Henry was heaping further honours on her family. But she was still going to miss him dreadfully.

  She looked up at him as they walked, his bright hair longer than strictly fashionable curling round his jaw. She tried to imprint the look of him on her mind, to comfort her when he was gone, and she sighed again.

  ‘Wolsey is still trying to bribe the Pope, George. Leo X has ever been open to monetary persuasion. He is a Medici after all!’ Anne remembered Cromwell’s comment in the corridor about 3,000 ducats to the Pope. ‘But since he was taken prisoner by the French during their sacking of Rome a few years ago, I have been told he is now ill and not kindly disposed to grant favours, regardless of the rewards for the Holy Mother Church.’

  ‘Then Cromwell needs to smooth Henry’s path through Parliament,’ said George, ‘and make sure he diverts plenty of funds to be made available should we need them, either for bribes or for war!’

  Anne gasped, horrified at the image that gave her – George broken and bloody on the field of battle. Tears rose into her throat and she swallowed them down. ‘Would we really have to go to war, George? Would Emperor Charles declare war on us because Henry is trying to divorce Katharine for me?’ Anne had never considered the impact of Henry’s obsession with her on the country’s position in the world.

  ‘That eventuality, my love, is what Wolsey and I are trying to prevent, each in our own way,’ he laughed down at her, ‘and I will return to you as soon as I am able.’ He took both of her hands in his and kissed her knuckles. ‘I will send you a forest of letters in the meantime,’ he promised softly, gazing down at her, his heart in his eyes.

  She returned his gaze longingly, keeping the tears from her eyes so he wouldn’t see how weak she felt, then the moment was broken as Tom Weston bounded up and snatched George’s bonnet from his head and threw it to Harry. George gave Anne’s hand one last press and then ran in pursuit of his headwear as Anne tried to laugh at the antics of the young men and forget how much she would miss him.

  ***

  While he was away, all George’s friends gravitated to Anne’s court. Tom Weston and Harry Norris were good-natured rivals to see who could sit next to Anne at nearly every meal, carry her missal, bring her sweetmeats. She almost didn’t need any of her ladies as they regarded any task she asked of them such an honour. They also vied for the affections of Madge Shelton and several of the younger maids, which made everyone laugh. Jane Rochford, of course, didn’t laugh. She was too jealous of the attention bestowed on her sister-in-law to be amused by the antics of the gentlemen of the court. Sir Thomas Wyatt still wrote her poetry, which Anne was careful to share with everyone in her service. Only George’s letters to her were kept private, and even though the most intimate parts were written in cipher, she always burned them when she had read them thoroughly. Some thoughts just mustn’t be discovered.

  Wolsey returned eventually, his mission an abject failure. His Holiness refused to grant an annulment on the grounds of consanguinity, and upheld Katharine’s claim that she had been a virgin when she married Henry, and that her wedding to his older brother Arthur had not been consummated. His Holiness also upheld the dispensation given at the time by Pope Julius. Henry was trapped, and so angry was he at being thwarted, that he banished Wolsey to his bishopric at York, and took Thomas Cromwell into his own service. He saw in Cromwell a man who could get things done, and who didn’t let moral dilemmas get in his way and Henry found that pragmatism an admirable quality.

  ***

  As she walked though one of the long galleries at Hampton Court, Anne saw Thomas Cromwell’s stocky figure coming towards her. He stopped and swept off his bonnet, making a low bow. ‘My Lady,’ he said in his soft voice.

  ‘Master Cromwell.’ Anne replied, eyeing him curiously. He had obviously been coming to see her, as this was her wing of the palace, away from the tedious men of government.

  ‘Might I have a private word with you, my Lady?’

  Anne made her way towards one of the hidden embrasures dotted along the gallery, shrouded by the tapestries hung on the walls. As she ducked round the hangings and smelled the dust clinging to them, she was reminded of how she used to hide at Hever, listening to secrets as a girl. She turned as Cromwell joined her in the enclosed space and thought it strange that it should be Cromwell that brought her another secret to listen to.

  ‘Master Cromwell?’ Her voice and brows rose in question at the secrecy of this encounter.

  ‘I have just left the King,’ Cromwell’s naturally soft voice was barely above a whisper. ‘He is unhappy at the outcome of the Cardinal’s visit to Rome.’

  ‘No annulment then,’ sighed Anne. ‘I know not how much longer I can remain at court in these circumstances, Master Cromwell. If the King will not be free to marry me, then I must return to Hever and ask my Uncle Norfolk to find me a suitable husband, before I am no longer of marriageable age.’ Anne’s eyes were downcast as she spoke.

  ‘My Lady,’ Cromwell gazed down at the top of Anne’s head. He was not a particularly tall man, but Anne was smaller than he, ‘the King wishes you to be his wife.’

  ‘But the Church won’t allow it,’ interrupted Anne.

  ‘Then the King intends to leave the Church of Rome,’ stated Cromwell flatly, ‘and do you remember what I told you in the garden at Hever, my Lady? “The King does as the King pleases, and it is my task to make sure his way is smooth, whatever he chooses to do”.’

  Anne was aghast at the implications of these words, and the iron will of intent behind Henry’s wish to make her his wife. She wanted George home from France so they could discuss this highly secret matter together.

  ‘Thank you for letting me know, Master Crom
well.’ Anne moved towards the edge of the tapestry. ‘Then it seems I shall remain at court for a while longer.’

  ‘I shall make sure you have not waited in vain, my Lady,’ Cromwell bowed, then left her.

  Anne gasped. ‘Oh George,’ she murmured softly, ‘come home to me, my love, before it’s too late.’ Suddenly she recalled part of the nightmare that had made her so afraid when she was ill. Once again she could feel a shadow encroaching on her, just out of the realm of her vision. Was it real, or was it just her imagination? She shivered. She wanted George!

  Chapter 11 - 1532

  nne, newly created Marchioness of Pembroke sat on a small settee in her solar, next to her brother Viscount Rochford, both of them examining a Book of Hours newly gifted to her by the King, while ladies in waiting and maidservants bustled round them packing clothes chests for France.

  In actuality, George’s fingers were entwined with Anne’s under cover of her voluminous skirts and sleeves, while he held the book with his other hand and Anne turned the pages. Both their heads were bowed as they examined the beautifully illuminated pages and read the scriptures to one another aloud, as a cover for their frantic whispers.

  ‘Henry is becoming impatient with me, George. He is getting tired of waiting.’ Anne traced an illuminated letter with her finger, to the apparent fascination of her brother, who bent his head to follow the path her finger took.

  ‘He says he hopes that this visit to France will give you the acceptance he wants for you. If King Francis and Queen Claude receive you at their palace, then the rest of Europe will follow and he can make you his Queen regardless of the Pope.’ He raised his head as Anne turned to the next page, his fingers pressing her other hand, then tracing the line of her wrist. Anne shivered delightedly, then scrutinised the new page.

  ‘And if they do accept me, George, it won’t be long before Henry declares himself head of the Church of England and marries me. Since Wolsey died without securing our annulment from the Pope, he has had Thomas Cromwell working tirelessly to divert the riches from the Catholic churches in England to his own coffers, and closing the monasteries and churches with too close a tie to Rome. I do appreciate that there were many members of the clergy who weren’t the poor pious men they claimed to be, but some of the abbeys and monasteries did really good work.’ Anne sighed, fearing that these deeds would resound down the years and prove to be a negative comment on Henry’s rule.

  ‘At least we are going to France together this time.’ whispered George, his fingers making circles in Anne’s palm, and his words a breath upon her cheek as he leaned closer to the book.

  ‘Together. With a hundred more people, including the King and the rest of his household and mine.’ Anne’s tone betrayed her disappointment with the situation.

  ‘But without my wife,’ George said, in a satisfied voice. ‘A brilliant idea of yours, sister. Expecting her to stay behind and run the remainder of your court, while Madge and Mary both attend you.’

  ‘I have no choice about her spying on me here in England,’ said Anne, turning the page again. ‘But I can use the excuse of travelling to France to get away from her sly ways for a while. Some of the maids I leave behind do need training, and I’m sure she’ll do a good job.’ She turned and smiled her secret smile at her brother, the depths of her dark eyes a bottomless well of promise and love. He looked back, lost in her gaze, then mentally shook himself and turned back to the book.

  ‘You know Norfolk and our Father will be part of the King’s entourage though?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘Yes, brother. I am aware that I will be spied upon by Monseigneur himself during the day, but at least my chambers will be my own.’ Anne closed the book reluctantly, and looked up towards the servants, who seemed to have completed the packing in record time. Under the cover of her sleeve, she gave her brother’s hand one more squeeze, then stood and smoothed her crimson skirts. George also stood, then placed the book on the nearby lectern and bowed to Anne.

  ‘I must leave, sister. I must see to the needs of the King.’ Anne watched him go, tall and auburn haired, long legs striding carefully between her ladies and the clothes chests. He seemed to take all the light in the room with him. Anne sighed again, then went in search of Madge and Mary to make sure all was well for their journey to France on the following morning.

  ***

  The sea crossing to France was calm and uneventful, and both Anne and Henry were soon installed in the castle at Calais. Lord and Lady Lisle, who were the nobles in charge of the English garrison in Calais made them welcome, overcome by the honour of having their King and his beloved stay with them. However, King Francis and Queen Claude remained at their own palace.

  ‘I’m not invited to the palace?’ Anne was becoming very upset, and Henry was angry at the situation forced upon him by the French King.

  ‘I’m sorry, sweeting,’ boomed Henry. ‘They say they cannot receive you to the formal royal banquet as you are not the Queen, and none of Francis’s mistresses will be in attendance. It is French protocol, they tell me.’ Henry was beginning to run out of excuses.

  He had been incandescent with fury when Cromwell had told him that Anne would not be received by the French court. Anne would be permitted to attend the jousting and games due to be held in the daytime, and Francis and his mistress would come to the castle at Calais and dine with Henry and Anne for an informal dinner before their return to England. But Anne, even though Henry had made her the Marchioness of Pembroke for this very occasion, was not sufficiently noble to be officially received.

  Anne was hurt by the slight, particularly as she had served Queen Claude as a girl and had received nothing but kindness from her. However, she mentally shook herself. It would not do to show how upset she was to Henry; he hated women’s tears, something Queen Katharine needed to learn quickly, Anne thought.

  ‘I shall stay here and dine quietly with Lord and Lady Lisle.’ Anne looked at Henry, whose broad face was lightening with relief as he saw she was accepting the situation without too much upset. ‘Could you spare George from your company?’ she asked, thinking furiously but not showing anything on her clear countenance. ‘Lady Lisle is a kinswoman of our mother, and it would make a happy family reunion if George could dine with us as well.’

  Henry was disposed to grant Anne anything to make up for her disappointment at not being received by the French court, and was palpably relieved that her request was so small, almost insignificant.

  ‘Of course, sweeting. Have a wonderful evening with your family here, and I will see you at the tourney on the morrow. Francis has arranged for me and my attendants to stay at the palace after the banquet, so I will meet your coach when you arrive to get your favour. It will bring me luck.’ Henry pulled her into his embrace, and kissed her hard. Then he let her go abruptly and turned to gather his gentlemen for the short journey to the royal palace.

  ‘Rochford, you’re to stay with your sister,’ he declared, ‘the rest of you, with me!’ Henry strode from the room, surrounded by all the colours of the rainbow as worn by his household. George, clad in black and silver as usual, stood by the door and turned slowly to look at Anne.

  ‘I shall see you at dinner,’ he said solemnly, but his green eyes danced with merriment at the way Anne had out-manoeuvred the King, and managed to get them some time alone.

  ‘I look forward to it.’

  ***

  Anne pushed her plate away and smiled at Lady Lisle. ‘This was delicious, Lady Honor. Thank you so much for your and Sir William’s hospitality.’

  ‘We are so pleased to see you, Anne, and you dearest George.’ She patted his arm as she spoke. ‘Cousin Elizabeth writes regularly and tells me about your exciting lives, but to meet you again after all this time, and the King too, well,
we are overcome, aren’t we William?’ Honor Lisle could barely speak for excitement. Her husband grunted his agreement and poured more wine.

  Anne smiled and nodded at her words. ‘My Lady Mother was always very fond of you, Lady Honor. And she will be so happy that we have been able to spend some time with you. But now we must be away to our beds. The King is jousting in the tourney tomorrow, as is George. It will be a long day for everyone so please excuse us.’ Anne rose from her chair.

  ‘I shall send the maid to guide you to your room and assist you,’ gabbled Lady Lisle, still overcome by the royal visit.

  ‘No, no,’ said Anne, smiling, ‘the maids will need to be up early too, to prepare food to break our fast. George can escort me through the castle corridors and ensure my safety. And I can manage to put on my own nightgown, I assure you.’

  ‘Well, if you’re quite sure, my dear. George’s apartment is on the same corridor as your own, so you shouldn’t get lost, should they, William?’ Another grunt. ‘Our rooms are at the other end of the castle, aren’t they, William? But if you need anything, there is a bell-pull down to the servant’s quarters, and they will be up directly, won’t they William?’

  Anne thought that Sir William seemed to have learned the art of conversing with his wife without having to say anything, merely grunting an acknowledgement, and she smothered a smile at the thought that not speaking left him more time for wine.

  Lady Lisle gathered Anne to her by the shoulders and kissed her cheek gently. Then she stood on her toes to kiss George, who had to bend for her to reach him. ‘Good night, my dears,’ she said kindly, beaming her pleasure at them both, then she took her husband’s arm to go to their room.

  George took Anne’s hand and placed it on his arm. ‘Come, sister. I have my sword and my dagger to protect us, as we each go to our own apartments.’ His green gaze caught her dark one and his eyes crinkled in reassurance. ‘You will be quite safe.’ Anne’s breath caught in her throat, head spinning with the scent of sandalwood.