"I fully understand, my lord. I harbor no resentment. Have you told
her exactly where you and I stand and that she should bear no ill
will towards us because of our relationship continuing?" she asked
in an almost casual tone.
"The entire court knows how we feel about each other, Amethyst. It
is no secret. With her royal duties as queen consort, and her
subsequent pregnancies, and pray the Lord there will be many, she
will have no time for petty jealousies or resentments. My goodness,
that is a child's game. We are adults.
"Anne seems to be mature beyond her years. Her youth abroad has
given her a fiery independence and strong will. She is secure in who
she is and becoming queen consort will reinforce that security. She
will not see you as a threat. You and I shall continue to see each
other just the same. This will work out for all of us. I know it
will."
"Well, I shall never run away again."
They stood for a silent moment, just looking into each other's eyes,
drinking in what their separation had deprived them of. "If you must
marry Anne, will you not just divorce her once she has the baby?"
"Amethyst, please, I am not even completely divorced from Catherine
yet. One divorce at a time."
"I missed you so much, Henry."
"And I missed you. I was very lonely and turned to Anne only in
desperation. She was so willing—"
She waved aside the details with a moue of distaste. "Never mind
her. She will be a thorn in my side until you dispose of her. Why
must you marry her at all?"
"Because she is carrying my heir, and he must be legitimate."
"She may have a girl."
"The chances are fifty-fifty, and I must not gamble. The future of
the kingdom is at stake."
Amethyst felt tears prick the back of her eyelids. "If she gives you
a son, I shall never give you your heir. The child we talked so much
of, a product of true love."
He heaved another deep sigh. "We shall see. Lord knows life is so
full of uncertainties. So please, let us not talk of these matters
any longer. I am finally back with the woman I love, and I want to
enjoy the time we have together. I shall do my duty, and you yours
to your King, but for the present, let us be as we once were, before
all this political turmoil. Everything to each other through the
gift of love."
"It sounds perfect. If only it could last forever."
"It can if we let it."
She bit her lip, not wanting to remind him that he had the power to
make it so if only he dared. So she squeezed his hand and then went
to pack her things.
On the morrow, she bade farewell to her family and set off back to
London. As she rode along with Henry and he was once more his
smiling and charming self, she decided that the game was not over
yet.
Anne Boleyn might well have bedded Henry and might even claim she
was with his child, but the woman was nothing if not cunning.
Amethyst would just have to take a leaf out of Topaz's book and be
even more so. She told herself that she was willing to wait as long
as she had to this time to at last secure the future Henry had
promised them both.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Hampton Court Palace, Christmas, 1532
The familiar rumblings of the Yuletide season were underway, and the
entire court was preparing for the festivities. The palace glittered
with gold, silver, red, and green hangings in the shapes of stars,
angels, and trumpets.
Amethyst was especially jubilant, for the King had invited Matthew
and the lads to court for the holiday. He was to arrive that
evening, having sent her a message from his last stop, which had
been Waddesdon Manor, another of his residences northwest of London,
where they'd spent the night. If the roads were passable and no more
snow fell, they would be on the palace grounds by nightfall.
She rehearsed Christmas carols with the King's Musick, her favorite
of all songs. She was in her solar with three other musicians,
playing a tune on the virginals composed by Henry called
"Greensleeves" when the door swung open and Anne stood there,
surrounded by several of her ladies-in-waiting.
Anne wore a tight-fitting coif tied under the chin, and a bright
yellow satin gown. Her sleeves billowed out like those of a specter
fluttering through the night, slashed at the tips of her fingers.
The underskirt was embroidered with a delicate gold braid,
accentuating the layers of gold ropes suspended from her neck. A
sumptuous three-tiered diamond choker was wound round her throat.
The deeply plunging neckline revealed breasts that had been pumped
up and pushed together, to create this rather questionable effect,
for if she made one jerky move, out they'd pop like the tiny charms
concealed within Christmas crackers.
It was the first time she'd seen Anne since returning to court. She
tried not to let the sight sicken her.
"Mistress Anne! What brings you to my conservatory?" she asked,
using the term she now used for her solar, since Henry had given her
the virginals and music stands so that she could practice alone.
"When does Sir Matthew arrive, Amethyst?"
"He should be here after supper, weather permitting."
"I was hoping he could bring me some of his luscious apples that he
grows at Kenilworth."
Matthew's gift of apples was a favorite at court, for his orchard
produced an abundance of plump, juicy fruit matched by virtually no
one throughout the kingdom.
"I expect he will bring some. He always does."
Anne stepped into the room, peered over Amethyst's shoulder at the
sheet music and laughed. "Greensleeves! One of the King's more
mundane pieces, but I am sure you can master it, Amethyst."
The entire court was aware of Amethyst's musical talents, no one
more than Anne, whose simple homespun melodies were given to
courtiers' children to learn the rudimentary basics of music, while
Amethyst's compositions continually managed to enchant foreign
dignitaries as well as the King himself.
"Do you wish to sing with us, Lady Anne?" Amethyst asked, knowing
Anne liked to sing solo. When it came to harmonizing with a group,
her ear simply shut itself off.
"Nay, I must find some apples! I have such a longing to eat apples!
Do you know what the King says?" Her voice intensified, as if she
were singing
a capella
, "He says it means I am with child!
But I tell him no. No! It couldn't be...no!"
Before any of them could reply, Anne burst into laughter and ran
from the room, taking two of her ladies by the arm, slamming the
door behind her with her foot.
"God's truth, you do not think she is with child!" Mark Smeaton
exclaimed. Apparently, neither Anne nor Henry had announced their
impending arrival to any of the courtiers. Amethyst certainly didn't
intend to be the one to herald that declaration.
"I am not sure, but she likes to tease people, keep them guessing
about her. The King finds it awfully amusing as well," Amethyst
replied, rummaging through the sheet music for more carols.
"But we shall see how amused he is when Anne delivers him of a
girl," she murmured, voicing her desperate wish, more to herself
than to the others. She counseled herself to bide her time and wait.
She had seen many women throw themselves at the King, but none had
stuck. This one would weary him too one day, she was sure of it. It
was all a matter of time with Henry
With that consoling thought, she turned back to her rehearsals and
reminded herself that time would bring her another eagerly awaited
event, her nephews' arrival.
Matthew arrived that evening with the lads in tow, two trunkloads of
clothes and gifts, and baskets of apples. Anne was pleased and she
did not hesitate to demonstrate her appreciation in a most
flirtatious manner which set both Matthew and Amethyst frowning.
At supper that evening, the great hall glittered with candles, and
gold-and-silver tissue graced each table. Golden plates and goblets
twinkled as wine flowed and servitors brought in tray after tray of
steaming meats, game, and vegetables.
The courtiers joked, laughed, and danced joyfully as the King's
Musick played a jaunty tune upon their lutes and recorders.
"Matthew Gilford, you are the handsomest man at court." Anne flirted
openly as they sat upon the dais, while the King was preoccupied
with Cromwell in discussing the divorce, their heads together in
deep discussion.
"Thank you so much for the apples, for they are the most delectable
in the kingdom. So red, so juicy, so succulent." Her ubiquitous
touch of French played about the vowels, elongating them, rolling
them round her tongue like fine wine.
Anne's long fingers cupped his chin, ran down his arm and casually
brushed his knee, while Amethyst sat at his other side. Patiently
letting Anne enjoy herself, Amethyst sipped her wine, daintily
clasping the goblet between thumb and forefinger, while the other
hand enfolded Matthew's, his fingers tightening round hers in a
reassuring squeeze under the tablecloth.
Later as Matthew and Amethyst shared a drink in her receiving
chamber, he mused over the incorrigible Anne.
"What a flirt she is!" he commented, sipping ale from a goblet. "The
King will have a jolly good time keeping her in check."
"Anne has been wearing Catherine's jewels and acting very much like
a queen when in the presence of court. How she behaves alone with
the King is a different matter."
She laughed, remembering Henry's bellyaching one evening. 'She
squawks and bellows and balls her fists and throws things to the
floor whenever I mention Catherine, Mary, or Wolsey,' he'd said. 'At
first I found it so girlish and pretty. Now I remove myself from her
presence when she goes into these tirades. 'Tis my fault,' he
sighed. 'I have been neglecting her, but now I must train her to act
in a more royal, subdued fashion worthy of a Queen of England. She's
just too Continental...too Frenchified!'
"But how about his need to marry a princess?" Matthew asked. "She's
no more than the daughter of a Kentish knight. Tom Boleyn is far
from royalty. You are more royal than she!"
"Aye, perhaps I was born closer to the crown than she," Amethyst
replied. "But the Boleyns do have some royal blood in their veins as
well. They are direct descendants of Edward the First. Her father
was Henry's envoy to the Netherlands. He holds Thomas Boleyn in high
favor. The family's well connected. She's not a serving wench he
stumbled upon in the buttery."
"I still can't fathom how this came about so quickly?"
She sighed. "When I decided I could wait no longer for him and
returned home, she caught his eye, mystified him with her aloofness,
and he, in that characteristic Henry style, plucked her up, decided
she was the most suitable of the eligible court wenches to breed his
heirs, ordered Wolsey to forbid her marriage to Henry Percy, and
here she is."
"She's not much to look at, with that black hair and all those gowns
with the cinched waists she brought over from the French court. Such
a contradiction to her dark, enigmatic disposition."
"Did you see the claw-like nub jutting out from her little finger?"
"Nay," he replied. "Her hands were touching parts of me that were
not in full vision."
"Well, those who like her not call it a witch's mark. Imagine!" she
laughed. "If it were I in that position, I would be the witch of
whom the scandalmongers tattle!"
"So what does he see in her, then?"
She shrugged. "A conquest first, and a son, pure and simple. He sees
in her his son. But we shall see what she does bring forth."
"You want him back, don't you?" Matthew asked quietly.
She nodded. "Aye, with all my heart. 'Tis just a matter of time. And
anything can happen. Who knows, she might fall from grace as easily
as she stumbled into it."
But by January Amethyst's hopes were dashed, for the King married
Anne Boleyn as soon as he was certain that she was indeed with
child.
No one outside the intimate confines of court was privy to the
information, and the ceremony was performed in secret lest the Pope
refuse the bulls for Cranmer's consecration.
As the King's case was still pending in Rome, Cranmer was able to
bypass the papal authority and declare the marriage annulled.
The King finally carried out Cromwell's plan. England was now
declared an Empire under a monarch supreme over Church and State.
Many of the monasteries were now in ruins, monks scattered
throughout the kingdom.
The King still insisted he had been living in sin with Catherine,
who was now banished to Ampthill, and was Princess Dowager by an act
of Parliament. In May, sentence was given by Archbishop Cranmer for
the King's divorce.