Chapter 10 #2
Hymen was trembling as he addressed his Majesty, reminding him of the joys to be had in the marriage bed. Kate looked at Elizabeth, who surely couldn’t understand much of what he was saying, but she was engrossed, doubtless by the gorgeous costumes and scenery.
After the masque had ended, the players came across to the audience with outstretched hands, and pulled people to their feet, enticing them to dance.
As the King extended his hand to Anna, a swarthy older man with an eyepatch approached Kate and asked her to join him.
Before she could answer, Francis stepped in.
“Mistress Carey has promised me this one,” he said, and took her hand, twirling her into the throng. “That is Sir Francis Bryan, Lady Bryan’s son, and he has a bad reputation as a libertine. If you value your honor, do not dance with him.”
“Oh! He is my brother’s guardian,” Kate told him. In some of his rare letters, Harry had mentioned him.
“Be that as it may, no woman is safe from him,” Francis said firmly.
She felt a little put out at his telling her what to do; after all, he had no claim on her. Then it dawned on her that he was not just being protective—he was jealous!
As they danced, his eyes held hers, and she felt as if she would melt inside. Was this feeling love? How did you know if you were in love? And how did you know if a young man was just playing with you? She wished that Mother were here so that she could ask her.
When the music stopped, the King’s jester, Will Somers, tried to raise a smile by telling some jokes, but Henry still sat there with a face like doom, eyes narrowed. Taking advantage of his fool’s immunity, Somers rashly plunged on.
“Are we keeping you from your sport, Harry? Go to it, man, delay no longer! Take your sweet bride to bed and swive her lustily!”
The King banged his fist on the table, and everyone jumped. “Enough!” he snarled. “Hold your tongue, Fool. Remember, the Queen and the ladies are present.”
He waved Somers away and signaled to the musicians once more.
“Play!” he commanded.
The music began, a lilting melody with a lively drumbeat. Henry surveyed his courtiers with a jaundiced eye.
“What ails you all?” he barked. “Up, up, dance!”
Several gentlemen rose hastily, bowed to their partners, and led them to the floor. Elizabeth was tapping her foot in time to the music, obviously longing for someone to ask her to dance. Kate saw the King turn to the Queen.
“Will you do me the honor, Madam?” he asked.
Anna looked perplexed. “If it pleases your Majesty,” she said, accepting his hand, “although I fear I am not skilled in dancing.”
“Then I will teach you,” he said.
The courtiers drew back as they stepped off the dais, and the music ceased. “We will dance a pavane—the King’s Pavane!” Henry cried, and the musicians struck up another tune, slower this time.
“You take one step to two beats,” the King said. “You move sideways, and then forward. It is a very slow and stately dance, and most apt for special occasions.”
Anna soon got the measure of it, and before the music came to a close, she was moving about the floor with ease.
At the end, she curtseyed low as the King bowed to her, and they returned to the dais amid loud cheering.
Kate was deeply impressed. Anna had done well. Surely the King would come to her now?
“We will retire now,” Henry announced. The music ceased and the whole court rose to its feet. The King was leaving. It was time to prepare the Queen for her wedding night.
“I must go!” Kate told Francis.
“I too! But I will look for you tomorrow.”
She tripped away, her heart singing.
She was not needed. Mother Lowe and her cohorts made it clear that they alone were going to attend their mistress, and anyway, it was not proper for young maids to be present on such an occasion. Gratefully, Kate made her way to bed, where she could lie and indulge in blissful thoughts of Francis.
—
She did not see Anna the next day, for it was customary for a queen to remain in seclusion after her wedding night, and again Mother Lowe was guarding the bedchamber door like a watchful basilisk.
Kate spent the afternoon with Francis, watching an archery contest, in which he was engrossed.
She wished he could show himself as engrossed in her, but then all the other young gentlemen were there, laughing and laying wagers.
So she sat there, wrapped in her cloak, a little way off from the other maids, and tried to look interested, though all she was really seeing was his noble profile, his green eyes, and the delightful way his hair curled down his neck.
But when the match was finished, she had his whole attention and they talked about their childhoods and their time at court.
Francis’s early years had been far happier than hers, yet he too had lost his father when he was young.
It made for a common bond between them. And all the while they were talking, Kate was aware of his eyes on her, ardent and admiring.
He made her feel beautiful and special. The time raced by, and she hated having to say farewell when it was time to return to her duties.
She would be counting the hours until she could see him again.
—
The next day, the Queen summoned her English ladies and maids to join her for a walk in Greenwich Park.
Her German and Flemish women were not invited, so perhaps she had sensed that there was some resentment at the favor she showed to them.
It was a sunny day but cold, and Kate was glad to be wrapped up in her fur-lined cloak.
At the top of the hill behind the palace, there was a crumbling old tower that looked deserted.
As they approached, they encountered four young German gentlemen, out hawking on horseback.
As they bowed in the saddle to the Queen, Kate saw Anna’s eyes light up at the sight of one of them, a beautiful fellow with blue eyes, high cheekbones, and tousled curls.
[*] He smiled back, and in that moment, Kate knew that there was something between them.
With that realization came alarm, because she knew, better than most, what happened to queens who were suspected of loving someone other than the King.
Fortunately, Anna did not linger. She exchanged a few pleasantries and walked on.
—
The Yuletide celebrations were over, and Kat brought Elizabeth to say goodbye to Kate.
“I wish you were coming with me,” the child said. At six, she was very forward for her age. “I like Mary, but it would be much more fun to have you as my sister.”
Kate felt tears welling up. She would dearly have loved to be leaving with Elizabeth, and was touched by her young cousin’s affection for her.
“I wish I could come, too,” she said, hugging her. “I hope you will be back at court soon.” She kissed her, and then curtseyed, remembering that this was a king’s daughter, and watched Elizabeth go, her heart sinking.
—
As the days passed, Kate became aware that the Queen was unhappy and on edge.
The court was full of whispers about the King’s dislike for her.
It was even being said that he had not lain with her properly.
Kate refused to engage with the rumormongers out of loyalty to her mistress, yet she felt anxious on her behalf.
What must it be like to be a stranger in a foreign land, and to be married to a terrifying man who did not want her?
Kate was sure that Anna had heard the gossip, for the Queen was making a visible effort to win the King’s love, or at least his approval.
She was doing her best to learn English.
She had cast off her ugly German clothes and put on English ones, in which she looked most becoming.
She appeared thus attired at a tournament to celebrate her marriage, and Kate was pleased to see the King looking at her admiringly.
It was going to be all right, she told herself.
Anna’s life soon settled into a pattern.
She spent hours sitting in her privy chamber, plying her needle, or gambling with cards or dice with her ladies and maids.
Kate found the long days cooped up there a trial, wishing she could be out seeing Francis, yet he too had his duties and had to spend long hours on watch outside the King’s apartments, so their opportunities to be together were few.
But at least Francis was eager to see her when they were both free.
During that idyllic month at Greenwich before they left for London, they would walk in the gardens, watch sporting contests, or just sit in a gallery talking and getting to know each other better.
Kate knew that they were growing closer.
She found herself counting down the minutes until their next meeting.
When Francis held her hand, her heartbeat quickened.
And when the gallery was deserted and he bent forward and kissed her, she was in bliss.
“I like you very much,” he murmured, those green eyes fixed on hers. “Dare I hope that you like me, too?”
She was ready to shout to the world that she loved him, for she knew it now, without a doubt, yet she restrained herself, for it was his part to speak of love first.
“You know I do,” she replied, trying to convey with her eyes how deep the feeling went.
He kissed her again. “I’ve been thinking, Kate…”
At that moment, a crowd of courtiers burst into the gallery and gathered by a window, talking and jesting.
Francis smiled and fell silent, and Kate could have stamped her foot in frustration.
Soon, it was time for her to return to the Queen, so she did not find out what he had been thinking.
She wondered if he had been about to declare himself.
Nothing would have been more welcome to her.
Skip Notes
* You can read more about this gentleman in my novel Anna of Kleve: Queen of Secrets.