Chapter Twenty-Five #2
“It is more than a drawing!” said Anne, her eyes wide and glittering. “What peace, what future can there be for my child? Who would want to be king?”
“It’s a bit too late for that now,” said Mary sardonically. “You’ve come this far and you can hardly give the child back.”
“That is not helpful, Mary,” said their mother.
“It’s the truth. She has to grit her teeth and get on with it, just like Henry told her.”
“Henry?” Anne turned to her sister with a sneer. “You never lose a chance to remind us that you were there first, do you? With your two children, born in secret in the countryside. What did Will Carey think of that, when he hadn’t shared your bed in years?”
“Spoken with true venom,” Mary replied. “You really will drive everyone from your side.” She left the room without another word.
“We can’t have this,” said Lady Elizabeth, her eyes pleading with Thomasin. “We must have calm!”
Her words spurred Thomasin into action. She took Anne gently by the arm and guided her back to the bed. “Come now, be seated. Take the weight from your feet.”
“I can’t do this,” Anne whispered.
“Yes, you can. This is what you’ve wanted all along, what you’ve dreamed of for years.
Now, think of how many women have been in your position; forget being queen — right now you are simply a woman about to deliver a child.
Every mother has been through this, and if they can do it, you can too. Look at your own mother.”
“I’m afraid.”
“What of?”
“I can bear the pain; I don’t even fear death. I have confessed and made my peace with God.”
“What, then?”
“I’m afraid of him. That he will not…”
The door opened suddenly to admit the king. Thomasin felt keenly how Henry’s presence changed the very air around him, as he scanned the room, hands on his hips, then advanced on Anne.
“What is this? Where is this note?”
Before she could answer, he spotted it on the bed and seized it. His eyes narrowed as he scrutinised the drawing.
“How did this come into the chamber?” He looked to Lady Elizabeth and Thomasin.
“It was left upon my pillow,” said Anne.
“God in Heaven. Treason within my walls, despicable treason! Who has been in here?”
“Only the maids. My father has gone to question them.”
As if he saw her for the first time, Henry softened. “Sweetheart, this is nothing but a foolish drawing, a piece of folly. It cannot hurt you, and whoever is responsible will pay. You must not alarm yourself about it. Look.” He cast the paper into the fire. “See how easily it burns.”
Anne watched the golden flames flicker around its edges. “I only hope I will not burn so easily.”
“Nonsense — what is this?”
“It is her altered state,” Thomasin said quickly. “The weight of the child makes her full of anxiety.”
“It is best that you rest, then,” he said to Anne. “We will postpone our walk. There will be other occasions, but you are best kept quiet and calm, so as not to influence the child.”
“I have just been to pray with Jane,” said Thomasin. “It was very calming. Might we pray together, in here?”
“An excellent idea,” said the king, turning on his heel.
Thomasin knelt upon the floor, but encouraged Lady Elizabeth and Anne to remain seated.
“Let us say the Lord’s Prayer together, aloud, as much as we might need.
” She did not wait for their reply but began reciting the words, knowing that they would be a distraction.
“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done…”
They all heard Henry’s laugh ring out from the outer chamber. It was muted by distance and muffled by design, but it was undeniably the king.
“What is making my lord so merry?” asked Anne, struggling to her feet. “Something amuses him.” She staggered towards the door, her hands wrapped around her belly.
“Come, Anne, be seated. Pay no mind,” said her mother, who was not fast enough to reach her. “Do not disturb yourself over some trifle.”
But Anne was already at the door, throwing it open and heading out towards the figures visible along the corridor. Thomasin hurried in her wake, just in time to see Henry laughing with the pale-haired Jane Seymour, who was blushing at his attention.
Anne stopped at the sight of them. “Making merry, my lord?”
Henry half-turned towards her, his laughter turned to rage in an instant. “Should I not? Should I sit still and quiet as the grave? Am I not a man like any other?”
“Not while your wife labours, my lord!”
“Labours? Have your labours begun now? For it seems to me that the past seven years have been nothing but labour.” He turned to go.
“Do not leave!”
Henry spoke with clenched teeth, conscious of the eyes of the room upon him. “Madam, you forget yourself. Do not presume to lecture me. Return to your chamber at once.”
As he stormed away, he passed Sir Thomas Boleyn, hurrying back up from the kitchens, who shepherded them back into the bedchamber.
“What has irked the king?” he asked.
“I have,” said Anne, easing herself down upon the bed, “or rather, he has irked himself in dislike of my sorrows.”
Sir Thomas looked to his wife, but Lady Elizabeth shook her head.
“Well, I have discovered the culprit. A young laundry maid was paid a shilling to leave this here this morning by a man she met in the gardens. She does not know his name, nor where he came from or went, and can only describe him as of middling height. She is penitent and will be dismissed after she has answered more questions: Cromwell is with her now.”
“Well, that is unhelpful,” said Lady Elizabeth, “but at least we know how it came to be here.”
“The guards on the quay and road gate have been doubled as a result.”
“But the peril is in here,” said Anne, striking her hand against her heart. “The peril is in here.”