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Authors: Anne Clinard Barnhill

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical

At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn (41 page)

BOOK: At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn
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“First the news of Mark’s arrest and now I am to appear before the Privy Council—what is happening, Lady Margaret? What is happening?” said the queen as Madge led her to her chair.

“Prithee, I know not, Your Grace,” said Madge, whose whole body buzzed with fear. Cate took hold of the queen’s other arm and held onto her as she lowered herself into her seat.

“It has come—it has come at last! The king and Cromwell have found a way to rid themselves of me! What I have feared all along has come to pass!” said the queen with breathless voice.

“Let us not borrow trouble, dear cousin. Let us becalm ourselves and think what best to do,” said Madge. She looked at Cate and even staunch Cate was pale, brows bunched up with worry.

“Methinks we should go to the queen’s apartments and help her prepare to meet the council,” said Cate.

“Yes, good Cate, that is wise counsel indeed. Come, Your Grace, arise and bear yourself as worthy of a queen. We are going to your apartments now,” said Madge.

The queen arose and walked with confidence from the Royal Box, across the lawns, and into her apartments. Only Madge knew her hands trembled as she took each slow step.

Once in the queen’s apartments, Madge and Cate sought to gird the queen’s loins for her battle with the council, for they all knew a fight was to come, a fight for the queen’s very life.

“Which gown, Majesty?” said Madge.

“A solemn day must needs a solemn gown—the black silk and I shall wear the matching French hood. And my pearls, which speak of purity. Oh Margaret, my heart beats so fast! What is to be done? What will happen to me?” said the queen.

“I cannot know, Your Grace. But try to keep your spirits up and keep your wits about you. Do nothing to offend His Majesty or Master Cromwell for they hold the reins, I fear,” said Madge.

“And remember, Your Grace, you are an anointed queen—not all the waters of the sea can wash that away,” said Cate.

A few minutes before the appointed hour, the queen departed under guard for the Privy Council. Madge and Cate could do nothing but wait. They busied themselves, tidying the queen’s bedchamber; when there was no more to do, they took up their sewing.

They did not have long to wait. Within the half-hour, the queen returned, obviously shaken to her core.

“What happened? What is it all about, Your Grace?” said Cate who could not keep still once the queen entered her bedchamber.

“I can scarce believe it myself—they left me speechless, nor could I form one word of response to the charges, I was so amazed,” said the queen as if in a trance.

“Tell us, Majesty. What is happening?” said Madge.

“I was met by mine uncle, Norfolk, and several other grim-faced men. They admonished me to stand to hear the charges against me. Then, they accused me of having committed adultery with Sir Norris, Master Smeaton, and several others. They said all had confessed against me and I was to return here, under guard, until they decided what to do with me,” said the queen, her voice a monotone.

“It cannot be—I have been with Your Grace every eve and no one but the king has come to you—I know this! How could those dastardly cowards confess to such a crime?” said Madge.

“I know not—I know not! This is Cromwell’s doing … and the king’s. It gives them both reason to be rid of me. But queens have been found guilty of adultery before and have not died. Surely, Henry seeks to send me to a nunnery. Then he can say he married a nun,” said the queen, bursting into wild peals of laughter.

“Get ahold of yourself, Majesty. Such cackling is unseemly,” said Cate.

“I shall pour you some wine—that will help. There now, drink up. Let us calm ourselves with sewing—look, cousin, I have begun a new chemise for my trousseau,” said Madge.

Before the women had time to thread their needles, Norfolk, Cromwell, and the lord chancellor Audley, along with several others, knocked upon the door. The queen herself rose to let them in.

“Why have you come, good gentlemen?” she said.

Her uncle, Norfolk, spoke from a scroll he held in his hand. “We come to conduct you the Tower where you will abide during His Highness’s pleasure.”

“If this be His Highness’s pleasure, I am ready to obey,” the queen said, her voice strong now. With that, the men led her away.

“Wait! Wait! Surely you will allow the queen to have her ladies with her,” said Madge.

“His Majesty has appointed four ladies already, mistress. Now, out of our way,” said Norfolk.

“Where is His Grace? Where might I find him?” said Madge, standing her ground.

“He has retired to his bedchamber for these recent events have sickened him mightily,” said Master Cromwell. “He is not to be disturbed.”

Madge curtsied to the men and let them pass.

“Quick, Cate, I must get me to the king before Master Cromwell returns. I must plead for Anne—I must make His Majesty see the error of his ways,” said Madge in a whisper.

“He may put you in the Tower as well, Maddie-girl. This is foolhardy—I forbid you to go!” said Cate, holding Madge’s arm.

“I fear I must disobey you in this. I
will
get to the king,” said Madge as she jerked her arm out of Cate’s grasp and hurried down the hall toward the king’s apartments. However, as she reached the outer room of the queen’s apartments, she saw the queen’s ladies gathered in clusters of twos and threes. The women were abuzz with talk.

Madge approached Bess Holland, who stood talking with Mistress Maude Lane.

“What know you of these unseemly events?” said Madge.

“I have heard the queen is accused of treason,” said Bess, who had been crying.

“And they have arrested her brother as well as Master Smeaton,” said Maude.

“Are they all accused of treason?” said Madge.

“Aye, and the court is filled with fear as to who might be next. Master Cromwell is sending the Royal Guard all over, methinks,” said Bess.

“I am amazed to hear these tidings,” said Madge. “Who might have more news?”

“I know not. I fear rumors are running amuck and who knows what is true?” said Bess.

“What are we supposed to do now? Where should we go? Think you Cromwell will have us arrested? We are her ladies—it is possible,” said Maude.

“Nay, do not give over to fear. This is a net to catch a queen and those men who support her. We have no power so we should have no fear,” said Madge.

“Pray you are on the mark, Lady Margaret—for you are the queen’s cousin and perhaps still a threat to Master Cromwell,” said Bess.

“Mistress Holland, know you where I might find the king?” said Madge breathlessly.

“Why would you wish to search out His Majesty when he is having so many arrested, even the queen herself? Are you mad?” said Bess.

“Perhaps. But I would speak with him as soon as is possible. Master Cromwell has told me the king has taken to his bedchamber, sick with grief at the thought of the queen’s treachery,” said Madge.

“Aye, that may be. But I know that each evening for the last week, His Grace has sailed in his barge up the Thames at dusk when few would see him. It is said he goes to sup with the Lady Jane Seymour in a lover’s nest,” said Bess.

“Then I shall find him thus … thank you, mistress. You have been of great help to me,” said Madge.

“I hope you do not end up in the Tower, Pretty Madge. Have a care,” said Bess.

The afternoon was at its zenith with several hours to wait until dusk so Madge tried to gain information from every person she met on her way to Cate’s room. When she reached the door, she knocked and Cate cracked open the door just enough to see who was there.

“Ah, Maddie-girl, come in—quickly!” said Cate, shutting the door the minute Madge squeaked in. Shadow licked Madge’s hands while Cate sat upon her stool near the fireplace. A small fire was burning in the grate and Madge could see Cate’s hands shaking. She took hold of them; they felt like ice.

“What are we to do? What are we to do?” Cate said over and over. Madge patted Shadow absentmindedly on the head and poured two mugs of ale from the ewer on the table.

“Drink this—it will help,” said Madge, handing a mug to Cate, then quaffing down the contents of her own. She hoped the drink would quiet her stomach, which sloshed around and gurgled most unpleasantly.

“We must think! She would have us clear-headed. They have taken her to the Tower along with several others: Weston, Brereton, Norris, Lord Rochford, and Master Smeaton. They are all accused of carnal knowledge of the queen—all of them!” said Madge.

“’Tis ludicrous, impossible. Why, anyone who knows Master Smeaton knows he loves the king, not the queen! I’ll warrant he has never even been with a woman,” said Cate.

“He has confessed it, though they say he was racked for hours before he conceded the truth of it. Cromwell is responsible for this—Her Majesty warned us of him and I believe she was on target—he is power-mad!” said Madge.

“Think what you will—I believe it is done so His Royal Lechery can take that Seymour wench to wife! He is nothing but a murderer! The good monks and priests! Sir Thomas More! Now his own wife!” said Cate.

“Bite your tongue, woman!” said Madge. “Think you he will not touch those near the queen if he catches wind of any treachery? Such talk is treason! Get yourself in hand!” said Madge.

“Forgive me, Maddie—I am full of fear,” said Cate.

“As am I, but more for Her Majesty than for myself,” said Madge. She looked out the window in Cate’s room and saw the sky was growing dark.

“I am going to find the king—no, no, I will not be dissuaded. I must go to him, reason with him, beg him for mercy. I shall return anon,” said Madge.

“I know you too well to try to stop you. But take care, girl. He is a monster!” said Cate.

Madge made her way outside and moved with stealth to where the king’s barge was moored. She knew the path well and hid herself in a copse of trees, waiting for the king. As she stood behind the enormous trees, she prayed for courage. Soon, she heard footsteps and saw the king, with Sir Edward Seymour, and several Yeomen of the Guard approach. There was little talk among them. She noticed the king did not wear his crown and his balding pate shone in the moonlight. Otherwise, he was dressed in his finest jerkin, cloth of gold with slashes of silver in the sleeves. Sir Seymour was also arrayed in the best money could buy and Madge realized the king had already been generous to him, paying him for the few charms his sister held.

When the group had moved close enough for her to catch the king before his guards could lay a hand on her, Madge saw her chance and flew to him, prostrating herself on the damp grasses in front of him. The guards moved to grab her but the king motioned for them to desist.

“What is this? Lady Margaret?” said the king, not unkindly.

Madge did not look up but spoke with the same courage she had seen in the queen.

“I beseech Your Majesty to grant me an audience. I beg as your humble and obedient servant who prays for your health every night. I beg as one who has enjoyed your royal presence and one who has sought nothing but to serve Your Grace,” said Madge.

“Arise, Margaret—let us go into my barge where I can sit down—my leg aches and I am weary,” said the king. Madge followed him back into the barge, remembering how regally it was appointed. The king sank down upon a large pillow and sampled one of the small tarts laid out for him. Madge knelt at his feet.

“Oh great and merciful king, I come to testify for the queen, your good wife. I would beg you to pardon the queen. I have been with her these many months, night and day, as thou dost know well. She is innocent of the crimes Master Cromwell has found against her. She has never known another and I believe you know in your heart that this be true. You, who are the fount of all justice in this land, I beg you, have mercy,” said Madge, keeping her head down, but her voice full and strong.

“You are either very brave or very foolish to appear before me, Pretty Madge. I could have you arrested on the spot as her accomplice, the one who procured for her,” said the king.

Madge trembled but she did not stop.

“You could do so if you desired, but such a deceit would disturb your conscience because you know such a thing is not true,” said Madge. “And I know you to be a good and wise king who obeys a tender conscience.”

“Stand up, mistress. Look at me,” said the king, helping her rise by taking her elbow. “You are a lovely creature still, Lady Shelton. I believe I granted your last request—you wished to have your contract to Norris rendered null and void. I have done so,” said the king, smiling.

“I cannot thank you for your favor—I would not have wished even Norris thrown in the Tower,” said Madge, her voice growing angry.

“You like me not, mistress. I see it in your eyes,” said the king, studying her. She noticed how fleshy his face and figure had become and how wrinkled his face. He was an old man. “I will not honor your request—the queen must die and that is that.”

“If you will not grant her pardon, then please allow me to go to her in the Tower. She has need of those who love her. I beg of you, if there was ever any tenderness in your heart for me, allow me to go to the queen in her hour of need,” said Madge, locking eyes with the king, hating him with every cell in her body.

“Guards! You heard the lady—take her to the Tower at once! I am, as you say, wise and merciful,” said the king as he motioned for two of the guards to lay hands on Madge. The others began to push the barge from the shore. The king looked out to the river, but then turned again to Madge. “By the way, your mother is also with the queen—I sought to surround her by her kinswomen so they could comfort her. May you bring her what solace you can,” said the king.

Madge did not respond but gave the king the foulest look she could muster. He then turned his back to her once more and sailed away. She let out a deep sigh and realized she had not breathed while she had been in his presence.

“Come along, mistress. To the Tower you go,” said the tall guard on her right. Both men held her by the upper arm and fairly carried her from the king’s barge to a small wherry. “Get in, mistress. You shall follow your queen all right. Straight to the Tower.”

BOOK: At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn
12.96Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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