The Autobiography of Henry VIII_ With Notes by His Fool, Will Somers - Margaret George [89]
“Perhaps they were.” Give her that comfort. “But even well-intentioned men make errors. And the fact is that God Himself has long ago passed judgment on our marriage. Painful as it is—”
“God?” She drew herself up at that word.
“Yes. All our children have died. We are without issue. Never before has an English King so needed an heir; never before have all his sons died; never before has a King married his brother’s wife.”
“We have Princess Mary. She lives.”
“A daughter. f the st of decorum, Anne insisted that we outwardly maintain our previous states: I as husband to Katherine, she as unmarried, eligible maiden. This was a happier arrangement for her than for me. As a “disguise,” she was compelled to surround herself with suitors and courtiers, whereas I must take my place beside the staid but seething Katherine.
In the meantime, in her own quarters, Katherine was hard at work writing secret letters to her nephew, the Emperor Charles, beseeching his help—letters which I had intercepted, with instructions for full copies to be made for my own records. Her means of protecting the marriage was foolhardy: appealing to a foreign power to aid her! She pretended to be fully English, but her actions belied it. She assumed that the Emperor could intervene in English affairs, and that I would cower before his dictates.
For my own part, I was also hard on the track of false hares. I was pursuing the Pope for confirmation that my marriage was indeed invalid. Numerous agents were also sent to Rome to procure a special dispensation allowing the case to be tried in England rather than Rome. They all failed. Pope Clement had no intention of delegating his authority. He insisted that the case could be decided only in Rome.
All the while, months passed as I waited, seeing Anne before me like a flame, surrounded by handsome young courtiers ... and one in particular, Thomas Wyatt, her cousin.
I liked young Wyatt, otherwise. He was a poet, and a good one. He was, in addition, talented in diplomacy and music. But he was a married man, and as such had no business suing for anyone’s favors, particularly his cousin’s. They had grown up together in Kent, so Anne assured me. But I liked not the way they acted together and looked upon one another. It was not seemly.
I well remember (well remember? I cannot banish it from my mind!) a fair day in May (a year after Wolsey’s foolish “tribunal,” and I as far from my heart’s desire as ever) when many of the court had gathered for the May bowls. A number of wooden pins were set up on a clipped green, and all men were to compete in tossing a heavy ball to bounce along and knock over the carefully arranged pieces. Katherine was sitting like a chesspiece on a carved chair, to watch us all, and even Brandon and Wolsey had been lured out for the festivities. Brandon had never paid the full fine for his “transgression” and therefore usually avoided Wolsey. Today, however, all was friendly and pleasant. I was especially happy that my sister Mary had ont size="3">I gripped the wooden ball I held in my hand as tightly as possible, then let fly at the targets. My ball smashed right through the center, scattering the pins like ducks. It then rolled on and on down the green, catching up to Wyatt’s.
“Ah! It is mine!” I said, pointing toward the faraway balls with my little finger, upon which was the token ring Anne had given me. Wyatt could not fail to recognize it.
He strolled forward with a smirk. Suddenly I hated the way he walked. “By your leave, Your Grace,” he said, “I must measure to ascertain the distance.” Then he began twirling something on a long chain, so that at first I could not determine what it was. Then I saw it for what it was: a locket of Anne’s. I had seen it often round her neck. He stretched out the chain mockingly and walked slowly to the balls.
I glared at Anne. She looked back at me, and all I could discern on her countenance was embarrassment. Not shame, not