"Is it because of...your other affairs, my lord?"
"You are a presumptuous one, are you not?" His eyes sparkled like
two stars in the dimness of the torchlight. "Our problems go much
deeper than that. My affairs were never any of Catherine's concern.
You know very little of court life, my dear. It is as natural as
breathing for a man to engage in extramarital affairs. You must
expect whomever you marry to do so as well."
"My father never stepped out on my mother," she protested angrily.
"He was a prisoner in the Tower! He spent most of his life in
chains! It was not like he had many opportunities," he sneered.
She crossed her arms over her chest angrily. "I would expect my
husband to be faithful to me as I shall be to him, my lord."
"Then I suggest you find yourself a saint, Lady Amethyst, and I wish
you luck with your quest." He turned and left her standing there as
the torch on the wall between them sputtered and died out.
Several evenings later, Eustace Chapuys, the Imperial Envoy, arrived
at court from Spain. They entertained him lavishly, and the King's
Musick played throughout the two-week-long visit.
Queen Catherine appeared, as she and the Envoy were close
associates, and the King danced a great deal, but not with the
Queen. They kept an even greater distance, Amethyst noticed. She
found it easier to believe they were estranged, and it wasn't a mere
ploy to lure her to his chambers.
When the musicians took a short break one evening, she walked
through the great hall to partake of a repast before the next
session.
She glanced in Henry's direction. He was deep in conversation with
his council members, the Dukes of Suffolk and Norfolk, and did not
see her. When she again looked up, he was staring at her, and their
gaze held. Their unspoken signal shot through the noisy hall.
Desire darkened his eyes, letting off a heady glow that glittered
more brightly than the gems trimming his doublet as he regarded her,
beckoning, speaking so many emotions in that fleeting glance.
He seemed to question her with his eyes, and at last she gave a
barely discernible nod and pointed in the direction of her chambers.
He went to her secretly, after all the courtiers had retired. She
met him at the entrance to her audience chamber. "Something told me
you would come to me tonight, sire," she whispered.
"Nothing could keep me away, not even my anger." They walked through
the labyrinth of passageways and closed doors set into oaken-paneled
walls, dimly lit by torches, reached her bed chamber and entered.
They sat down by the fire and he poured each of them a gobletful of
wine from the pitcher on the sideboard. She was beginning to like
this strong sweet liquid that turned her insides aglow.
Being with the King set her heart aflutter, but with a nervous
tinge, as she was still so in awe of his regal bearing, his athletic
physique, his vigorous, yet gentle manliness, and she lionized him
endlessly. But still she was afraid.
He shifted about, filling his goblet after every few sips, fingering
the clasp of his girdle, running his hand through his golden red
hair.
"Your Majesty, Topaz and I made a visit to an almshouse in
Whitechapel recently. It was so sad to see how the poor must live."
"I am aware of their suffering, Amethyst, but in our society there
will always be rich and poor."
"Is there anything the crown can spare to help these people; they
literally starve, kill each other for scraps of food!"
"Aye, tomorrow I shall dip into the treasury and send a delivery to
Whitechapel just for you."
"Oh, it is not for me, sire! It is for your subjects. They would be
so grateful."
"It is done," he said airily, stroking his hand down her arm as
though caressing a treasure.
"Now, I would challenge you to a game of tennis tomorrow, but alas I
have no jewels with which to gift you!" she said.
His gaze fastened onto hers and he stopped fidgeting with his clasp.
She wished he would tell her what bothered him; perhaps she could
help him.
"Amethyst, you do have a gift you can bestow upon me, more valuable
than any jewel."
He leaned over and she nodded, knowing. He'd been right; her body
was sending signals independent of her mind. All her mind continued
to tell her was that he was a married man with a string of
mistresses–she would merely become the most current. If only they
could share intimacy and each other's lives without this stigma,
without the entire court tittering behind her back…
"What would the arrangement be, my lord?" she heard herself asking
faintly.
"Arrangement?" he echoed in confusion.
"Aye. Would I need to make an appointment to see you? Would I be
last in line because I am the latest addition to your collection?"
"That is preposterous! Nay, we would see each other when time
permits!" he insisted, his face a mask of outrage.
"In other words, when you can fit me in."
"I am a king, Amethyst, not a yeoman farmer. Affairs of state take
precedence over my personal life and always will. If your body's
desires exceed those of mine, then you will have to deal with it
accordingly! Otherwise, you can expect me to do my duty as any man
should for his woman."
"I did not mean it that way!" she exclaimed, exasperated the way he
summed everything up to carnal animal desires. "I would be taking a
huge step, a step I am not sure I wish to take, and so I need to
know what you are prepared to offer me by way of being the man in my
life."
"You torment me, Amethyst, and you know it. You have been driving me
wild with desire for you, and it seems you are basking in it. Why do
you enjoy torturing me so?"
"I do not wish to torture you! You will never know what it is like
to be in my position... A virgin, never touched by any man, now with
a king courting me. Already the court thinks I am your mistress,
they think things that aren't even true. People are cold to me, and
snicker when I walk by."
This was far from true; although she'd noticed a few furtive
glances, no one outwardly treated her with any less respect than the
day she'd first joined court. But she had to exaggerate her plight
to drive her point home with him. Nothing else seemed to work.
"Who snickers, who is cold to you? I shall banish them immediately!"
he raged.
She shook her head. "Nay, do not do that. It is expected. It is
human nature. Especially in as close proximity as court. I am
beginning to realize that. Courtiers love to gossip...they spin what
are obviously tall tales, just to keep themselves amused. They are
worse than country folk! That is easy enough to live with. Being
your mistress is not."
"All right, then. I shall do what I must do." He rose, slammed the
goblet down, and left in a swirl of ermine and lavender shaving
water.
"My lord..." Now what did he mean by this ambiguous statement?
Her heart sank. He was gone. She knew what he meant. This was the
end of her stay at court. He'd waited long enough, and she'd given
him her answer. Put to him all her worries and fears, been honest
with him and far too outspoken, she was sure.
She rose slowly, running her hand over the fine velvet chair, and
turned to face the wardrobe. Tomorrow at this time she would be on
her way back to Warwickshire with a bruised heart, but at least it
would with her honor intact, no matter what anyone said. She would
leave her clothed and jewels behind, all his gifts, and depart, none
the worse for the experience, but certainly older and wiser.
She dragged her valises out from the wardrobe, and began to pack.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
The following afternoon, before Vespers, she was greeted by a page
and led into the King's closet.
This is it
, she thought.
This
is goodbye.
He sat before the fire, dressed in a simple satin robe of dark
burgundy, a gold goblet in his bejeweled fingers. His eyes were dark
and shadowy.
"Come sit beside me, Lady Amethyst."
"I know what you want to say," she said softly, waiting for the
thundering outburst, the subsequent banishment from court and the
rest of her life as a Warwickshire wench who'd refused to compromise
her honor, who'd had the nerve to rebuff the King.
He offered her wine, and she declined. He nodded, and took another
sip of his own. "You do, do you? Are you a mind reader as well?"
"Nay, my lord, but after last night, I am aware that you have ended
your wait for me, and wish me to leave."
His eyes bored into her, but she avoided his gaze.
"Well, this time you are dead wrong," he said at last.
She sat upright, her hands grasping the plush arms of the chair.
"You do not wish to send me back home?"
"Nay."
"Truly?" she asked in astonishment.
"You have resisted every gift I have tried to give and refuse to
become my mistress. I cannot tell you the enormous respect I harbor
for you because of that. You are a special one, indeed. Not only
beautiful and talented, but honorable as well."
Relief flooded through her, but apprehension forced her to remain at
the edge of the seat. "Thank you, sire," she whispered between
parched lips.
"Amethyst, you know very well Catherine and I have been estranged.
It is not because of my other mistresses, as you thought. That is no
reason for an estrangement. The reason is that I have ceased to love
Catherine. She and I have grown apart. Our ideals and goals have
long since parted their ways and have followed diverse paths. We
cannot talk, cannot see eye to eye on any subject. She is as bent on
her beliefs as I am on mine. The other reason for us to separate is
much more mundane.
"I need an heir, a legitimate male heir, and Catherine is past her
childbearing stage. It was when I came to the realization that
Catherine and I shall never produce an heir together that I knew
what I must do."
"And what is that, sire?" She was afraid to hear what he was going
to say next.
"Set Catherine free so that I may pursue a mother for my heirs."
Amethyst tore her gaze from the two piercing chips of gold that had
held her fast. She was finding it hard to take it all in at once.
She dared not ask him what he had in mind—she wasn't even sure she
wanted to know.
But she was here, in private audience with the King, who was pouring
his heart out to her, just like any man remorseful over his
mistakes, as she knew now that kings made mistakes, too.
"Set Catherine free... But how, Your Majesty? She is your wife."
"I looked into the matter most carefully, Amethyst, spent many, many
sleepless nights poring through many sources, mulling it over in my
mind, talking to our great Lord himself, pleading for answers like
the most common street beggar, for as I am your King, He is mine.
"It matters not what Catherine thinks, for the succession of the
crown must continue, and continue naturally, so that I may leave
legitimate and uncontested issue, so that the crown will not roll
upon the ground to be plucked up by the nearest or most ambitious
pretender. I plan to put an end to my marriage to Catherine in order
to secure the succession to the throne properly, for all time."
"But you have a daughter. There is no need–"
"One living child after over a half dozen pregnancies. Yet I have
living children, sons, from other women. I am accursed in this
marriage and need to put an end to it." He set his goblet down with
a determined thud, as if vocalizing his plans officiated them; the
first step to carrying them out.
"How, Your Majesty?" she blurted, for lack of anything else to say.
But of course he would find a way. She froze at that moment. She
half expected him to say what she most feared. But then, he'd said
he wanted to put an end to his marriage, not to Catherine.
"I did some research with Wolsey, and came upon the most startling
conclusion, quite surprisingly." He was pouring himself another
goblet of wine, and munched on a bunch of grapes, popping them into
his mouth one after the other, extracting the pips and flicking them
into the fire.
Once more, he offered her wine. This time she accepted. "Catherine
and I were never married. We were never truly man and wife. As the
widow of my brother Arthur, our marriage was never valid in the name
of God."
She'd heard that before; it sounded vaguely familiar. Of course, it
had been Topaz, who'd spat it out so vehemently with all the other
venom she spewed about the King, Amethyst had forgotten it within
minutes. So it was true—and how surprised could the King have been
then?