Mayflowers for November: The Rise and Fall of Anne Boleyn (22 page)

Why did he not come to me himself with my angel? Why all this secrecy? I was surprised to discover how badly I wanted to see him. I stuffed the purse inside my bodice and ran to Mistress Blanche who carried Princess Elizabeth in her arms.

‘I hope I will see you again, before you leave with Lady Shelton,’ I said.

‘I hope so too. Come my lady princess, bid Avis good day.’

Elizabeth lifted her head and smiled. ‘Good day, Avis,’ she said sleepily and buried her face in Blanche’s neck.

Sir Francis Weston looked straight through me when he passed by to leave the chamber, as he might look through an open window. At that moment, all the fear that had grown inside me, like a canker, dribbled away. I did not lower my eyes. He must have seen the insolence there but he did not show it. Father’s death had changed me. When the worst that can ever happen has happened to you, there is nought else to fear. As I caught Weston’s gaze, I felt that I had a new inner strength. What I did not know was how fragile was my courage, for it was bred only of sorrow.

Across the chamber Mistress Madge was talking and laughing with the musician, Smeaton. Now and then, as she spoke, she glanced in my direction. When the music began again he did not join the musicians in the gallery but walked in my direction.

‘Mistress Shelton tells me that you wish to learn to dance.’

‘You have grown taller, Master Smeaton,’ I told him. ‘I hardly recognise you in your bright court attire.’

I had seen him around the court but we had not spoken since my secret meeting with the Queen more than two years before. He blushed, right up to the dark curls that framed his face. Oh, how it flattered and cheered me to see that blush. I was pretty enough to unnerve him, he who thought he was so much above my station.

‘You have grown taller too, Avis. Your mistress has asked the musicians to play a basse dance. Let me show you the steps.’ He spoke in a full, rich tenor as if his words were a song.

He bowed. I curtseyed. He put his fingers to his lips, briefly, one hand then the other and swayed his arms slowly in an elaborate arc. I did the same. We held hands, those hands we had kissed, and I thought I was partaking in a courtly game of love. We all were, all of the couples, playing at flirting while we danced. It wasn’t like the peasants’ wedding dances I knew, where the couples skipped and twirled in circles and laughed. It felt more like a ceremonial procession. He bowed his head to the right and to the left in unison with the other men. I did the same with the ladies. I had to keep my back very straight and my head high. The music was playing and my feet were impatient to dance but we hadn’t moved a step.

‘Keep your arm to the side,’ he said, ‘and point your fingers gracefully.’

I did so while he and the other gentlemen rested their free hand upon their hip.

‘Now, Avis, step forward, slowly, in time to the music. No, no, do not look down to see what the other ladies do with their feet. Keep your head held high. I will tell you what steps to take.’

‘As you did so efficiently, once before,’ I could not help replying.

The basse dance began slowly, giving me time to practice the steps. I thought I danced daintily in my light slippers and enjoyed doing the little hops and skips passing one foot over the other. With each dance the music became faster and the dancers more sprightly. When the gentlemen took their partners by the waist and lifted them high it felt strange to be held thus by the musician. Mother would not approve; of that I was sure.

‘How do you like your dancing master?’ my mistress asked when we twirled gracefully side by side while our partners leapt about in a galliard, kicking out their straight legs like scissors and jumping high into the air.

‘I have learned a lot, my lady.’

‘I did not ask what you had learned. I asked if you liked him, and I see from your sly answer that you do.’

Yes, I did like him. Of course I did. He was the youngest and most handsome man there in that chamber. So why did I find myself wondering how I would feel if Tom had held me by the waist and lifted me high while we danced?

‘You have had some cheerful pastime, this day,’ Mistress Madge said when we returned to her lodgings and I thanked her plentifully, for I knew that contriving my dancing lessons with Smeaton had been her way of consoling me for the loss of my father.

‘Pray do not oblige Master Smeaton to dance with me too often,’ I pleaded. ‘I have enjoyed his good company and learned to dance a little. He is a favourite of the Queen and I am not his equal and would not presume to be.’

‘What nonsense, Avis. The boy looks to live above his mean situation and needs to learn a lesson. He puffs himself up too much because of Anne and George’s patronage. Now, tell me, what did my Lord of Norfolk grumble about to his daughter? He seemed even more dour than usual. You stood so close to him you must have heard their conversation.’

‘He inquired of the whereabouts of Mistress Seymour.’

‘What would Norfolk want with the Chin? Does he look to have another mistress? Surely, Bessie Holland is more than enough for a man of his age.’

I removed her new French hood, took off her cap and let down her hair.

‘Lady Bryan was very secretive in conversation with her sons. Did you happen to hear ought of their talk Avis?

I just had to laugh. ‘Do you keep me for your maid to be your spy, Mistress Shelton?’

‘Of course I do and to keep my secrets also,’ she said playfully. ‘Now then, Avis, what did you hear?’

‘I heard nothing. I kept my distance. Princess Elizabeth was afraid of those two men and so was I. They did not pet Princess Elizabeth as other courtiers do. I know that the man with the eye patch is Sir Francis Bryan, who is the other?’

‘I suppose if you are to be my spy you must know a little of the people you listen to. He is Sir Nicholas Carew. Those two were a great pair of rakes in their youth and disgraced themselves abroad, throwing fruit at peasants and other such boyish pranks so that Cardinal Wolsey had to recall them, so my lady mother has told me. They have been great friends of the King for years.’

‘Why do you speak of Francis Bryan? Is he at court? He is supposed to be abroad about the King’s business,’ a lady’s voice intervened.

‘Lady Mother, you are early. As you see, I am not yet dressed for supper and, yes, Francis is at court, visiting his mother, I think.’

Mistress Madge and I dropped into a curtsey. Lady Shelton told me to continue to undress Mistress Madge and I fumbled nervously at the laces of her sleeves for I had not seen Lady Shelton since she had questioned me so harshly about the missive in the Lady Mary’s orange and had accused me of having traitorous friends.

‘Why do you talk of Bryan and Carew?’ she asked her daughter. ‘Bryan is no friend of the Boleyns these days after that dreadful argument in public with George several months ago.’

‘Bryan used to seek favour with the Queen,’ Mistress Madge reminded her. ‘It was he who brought her the puppy from Calais.’

‘These days he does not like Anne and her reformist ways, and neither does Carew. The executions of the prior and the monks, and poor Bishop Fisher have sickened them as it has shocked many. They are both known to have shown sympathy to the Lady Mary. I have told Lady Bryan very firmly that her sons are not welcome in my household. Your father believes it was Carew who arranged to have that missive in an orange sent to Lady Mary at Hatfield.’

When Lady Shelton said this I knew at once how Tom had come by my angel nobles. He was working for Sir Nicholas Carew. Everything fitted together; his love of Queen Katherine, his hatred of Anne Boleyn and his sudden disappearance right after her coronation. Sir Nicholas Carew must be paying Tom well to pass messages between Katherine and Mary. How else would Tom, the rat boy, know Sir Nicholas well enough to ask him to bring a gift to me.

‘Even here at court, the Lady Mary has supporters,’ Lady Shelton declared, and glared in my direction as if she continued the interrogation of two years ago. ‘You have heard, no doubt, Madge, of the demonstration at Greenwich Palace during the summer while the King was on progress?’

‘What demonstration? There were no rumours amongst the court while we travelled.’

‘A gaggle of women, outside Greenwich Palace, shouting their support for the Lady Mary; and Jane Rochford, heedless of her position as sister-in-law to the Queen, was standing amongst them, by all accounts. That woman shows no loyalty to the family. Does she know what harm she does?’

‘Yes, of course she does, Lady Mother, she is trying her utmost to distress her husband,’ Mistress Madge said cheerfully. ‘You know how much they hate each other.’

‘Your father fears that the Catholic King of France is sending messages to the Lady Mary via Carew. He verily believes that King Francis plans to invade England, marry his son to the Lady Mary and set them up as king and queen. And meanwhile, what does Henry do about it? He takes Anne out hawking.’

My three angel nobles suddenly weighed heavily inside my cardinal red purse. Was Tom working with Sir Nicholas Carew and the King of France against our King Henry? Was Tom a traitor?

‘Lady Mother, you worry too much. Leave such concerns to the King and Master Cromwell,’ Mistress Madge said. ‘Bryan is the King’s man and always has been. So is Carew. They are of an age with the King have been his friends since their youth.’

‘They are not Anne’s friends these days,’ Lady Shelton said.

I had not thought before of the King and the Queen separately. I knew there was the King’s household and the Queen’s household. Wasn’t this just a matter of chambers and servants? Now it appeared that King had friends who were not friends of the Queen and her family.

‘No one can fault me for I have shown nothing but loyalty to the family,’ Lady Shelton said, ‘although Anne gives me little thanks for it. If my brother had not pushed his daughters under the King’s nose I should be living quietly in my house in the country. Anne was always one to have her own way. You know that I never liked her as I did her sister Mary even though we shared the same name, Anne Boleyn, when we were maidens. Now I am forced to be jailer to her stepdaughter. It is not in my nature to deal as harshly with Lady Mary as Anne demands. Was I ever harsh with you, Madge or with any of my children?’

Mistress Madge took her mother’s hand and pressed it to her lips. ‘No Lady Mother, of course you were not too harsh; you brought us up strictly but with kindness.’

‘The Queen will not allow any kindness to her stepdaughter.’ Lady Shelton sighed and turned to me. ‘Where is the gown you have made ready for my daughter to wear to supper this evening?’

‘I beg pardon my lady, it is in the chest, I have not yet ...’

‘I find you sorely remiss in your duties. My daughter’s attire should be laid upon the bed in readiness. The garments will be creased in the chest.’

‘Lady Mother, I beg you, leave Avis to me. She cannot prepare my clothes until I have decided what to wear,’ my mistress said blithely. ‘Now you are here you can help me choose.’

‘Wear blue, tonight, Madge. It shows off your eyes. I think Norris will like it.’

‘Yes, Lady Mother,’ Mistress Madge said meekly and smiled a guilty sort of smile. She is thinking that Weston will like it too, I thought.

When Mistress Madge was dressed and ready to go to supper Lady Shelton smiled admiringly at her pretty daughter and fussed over the gown. She plucked the damask shift through the slits in the sleeves, pulled at the veil and examined the new bejewelled hood that Mistress Madge had worn earlier in the afternoon when she was dancing.

‘There are only five sapphires. Where is the sixth?’ she said and stared at me.

Mistress Madge fumbled with her cuffs and said nothing.

‘All six of the jewels were there when I dressed Mistress Shelton this morning, my lady,’ I stammered. ‘Maybe the jewel dropped off during the dancing.’

‘Jewels do not just drop off a headdress.’

‘By your leave, Lady Shelton, this one has.’

‘Madge, search the girl’s chest.’

A few months ago, I would have burst into tears at Lady Shelton’s accusation. Instead, I went into the outer chamber, fetched my small chest and dragged it to Lady Shelton.

‘Here, my lady, search if you like. While you do so, with your leave, I will take the boy to the long chamber where Mistress Shelton danced this afternoon and we will comb every inch of the floor, upon our knees, until the sapphire be found.’

My mistress spoke not a word and would not look in my direction.

We found the jewel before we got to the long chamber.

First, we had to pass through a small chamber where two musicians sat at a table tuning their lutes: Mark Smeaton and Sir Francis Weston.

‘You should ask these gentlemen if anyone has found the missing jewel,’ the boy said. ‘It might save us a lot of crawling about. That dancing chamber is very long and we will ruin our stockings on the rush matting.’

We entered the chamber and waited to be noticed.

‘Let the piece begin with the rhythm of a pavane, perhaps a semibreve then two crotchets, a slow and sombre mood,’ Smeaton said and began to play. ‘Now we improvise.’ Their fingers plucked their instruments with a lighter, faster rhythm; each playing separately, yet together.