The Autobiography of Henry VIII_ With Notes by His Fool, Will Somers - Margaret George [84]
She talked? She told? I was thankful, then, that I had not consorted with her after the first year or so of her marriage. A woman who repeated details? Foul, foul!
“I am entirely unschooled in such matters, Your Grace,” she said. “I need a teacher.”
No regret for the lost Percy, to whom she had pledged herself? Even at that moment I was struck by her disloyalty. But as it benefited me, I did not dwell on it. Rather, I made up excuses for it. There, I told myself. It proves she never really loved him.
“I could teach you,” I said boldly.
“When?” Her answer was equally bold.
“Tomorrow. Meet me”—oh, where to meet?—“in the minstrels’ gallery above the Great Hall.” When did Katherine dismiss her? “At four in the afternoon.” A favourite dalliance-time.
Just then the minstrels ended the measure. Anne quickly disengaged her hand from mine, nodded, and was gone. “I thank Your Grac822">Tomorrow it would begin. Tomorrow.
All about me the courtiers waited, silver visors in place. We would dance —yea, dance all night. Let Wolsey bring fresh torches!
The minstrels’ gallery, overlooking the Great Hall, was shadowy and entirely private. Light exploded into the Hall from the row of windows along its length, but it left the minstrels’ gallery untouched. Not that Anne should have anything to fear from the boldest daylight. She was young, and entirely flawless.
I had not yet decided what to do with her. I would make her my mistress, yes, of course, I knew that. But after the coupling ... curiously, I thought of the coupling more for her sake than for mine. I did not need the coupling to bind me to her; that had happened the moment I saw her at Hampton Court; the strange bonding had taken place on the instant. The coupling was for her. Women were so literal. Until there was a physical thing, she would not consider herself bound to me.
I waited. The apartments (vacant since Mary Boleyn’s gradual decline in my life) stood at the ready. I had ordered them scrubbed, aired, and freshened, and the bed made up with finest Brussels-laced sheets. I would conduct Anne to them within a half hour ... and within an hour, we would begin our life together. Whatever that meant, whatever that led to....
I waited. I watched the great squares of light from the windows change their shape on the floor of the Great Hall as the sun sank lower. Finally they were long, thin slivers; then they faded and dimness reigned in the Hall.
Anne was not coming. She had broken our tryst.
Perhaps Katherine had detained her. Perhaps Katherine had suddenly needed her presence at some ceremony or other. Perhaps Katherine had even become fond of her and wanted her only to talk, to keep her company.
Anne was so winsome, that was likely.
I was ready to descend, by the little stone steps, when a page approached, hesitantly. “A message,” he said, thrusting it into my hand. He bowed and then hurried away.
I unfolded the paper.
“Your Grace,” it read. “I could not keep our appointment. I feared for my integrity. Nan de Boleine.”
She feared for her integrity? She feared me? She teased me, rather! She had already admitted she would give herself to the artists in their dens! But not to a King! No! She would give herself to Johnny-paint-a-board, but not to King Henry!
And to have agreed to the time and place, and left me waiting! Sending a page in her stead! As if she would disdain to do her own unpleasant business. And the unpleasant business was—me. The King!
I removed Anne from court within a fortnight, sending her back to Hever. It was easily done: the mere writing out of an order, signed, sanded, sealed. As King, I had power to move people about as I would, transfer them from one post to another. But I seemingly had no power over my wife, my daughter, my fantasized mistress. Women! They rule us, nter, I missed her. Whatever had called me to her to begin with continued to call me. As yet I knew not what it was....
But it was not to be. Whatever that thing was, perhaps I was never to taste it. And to what purpose, anyway? I was married,