Part I
Anne bent over the figure in the narrow bed, in the small room off her own larger bedchamber.
“Isabel, Isabel. Wake up. But you must keep silent. ”
The younger woman opened her eyes to find her cousin standing by her bed, dressed still in her bed-gown.
“What is it -Nan?” she asked sleepily.
“You must help me to put on my gown. Madge is asleep and I would not wake her.”
Isabel shook her head to wake herself. Madge Shelton was on duty as Anne’s lady, that night and would be sleeping on a pallet in her friend’s room. She climbed out of the bed and fumbled for her own gown. Her own tire-woman, who helped her dress, was probably asleep in an alcove just outside the door. From the light in the room, it was early in the morning.
“Nan, what is it? Why are you awake so early?”
“Help me to dress. Here.”
Anne Boleyn picked up a formal tawny coloured gown of rich satin, and a petticoat of white lawn, which lay atop a wooden press. Holding them in her arms, she looked keenly at her friend over the crushed materials. She spoke abruptly. She was always imperious in her bearing.
“Help me take off this bed-gown and put this on. Fetch me a smock.”
“Anne, why cannot Madge help you to dress? Or Bess?”
“Because I require discretion, you foolish wench. You have always been the most sensible of my cousins.”
Isabel tried to think of something to say…
“Enough prattling, Isabel. I must be ready to meet the king as soon as maybe. Help me to put on my kirtle and gown, and stockings and slippers. Then, you can call Bess to help you. “
Isabel hurried to the press where Anne’s undergarments were kept and took out a smock, and stockings. She began to help her cousin to put on her clothes. Since her cousin had become the King’s constant companion, several years earlier, she lived in almost royal state, with her own apartments, finely decorated. She had ladies to keep her company and wait on her. Of course there were servants to do the more menial tasks.
Some of her ladies felt that she was overly haughty, in her manner, but she was the King’s companion and likely to be his wife, so it was an honour to serve her. Many were cousins of hers; others had once been in service to queen Catherine.
Isabel Bladon was one of the Duke of Norfolk’s many relatives. She had known Anne, since they were children. She was a few years younger than the Boleyn girl.
When Anne was finally gowned, she adjusted her French hood headdress, with its edging of small pearls.
“So now, cousin, you may go to call Bess. I shall wait in my closet, until you are dressed. But none of them must know where we are going. Hurry, Isabel... Make haste.. for we will be meeting the king.”
Isabel started, but she knew that it was wisest to do Anne’s bidding. She awakened the old tire- woman. Bess was far from young, but she was an experienced dresser. She didn’t care why Isabel was awake and requiring her clothes. She helped her mistress to dress, swiftly and when she had returned to her trundle bed, they slipped out, and quietly moved along the passage to the staircase at Whitehall.
“My lady,” Isabel asked, as they began to climb the stairs, “Pray, where are we going, so secretly?”
She addressed Anne by her formal title of Lady Marquis of Pembroke, now that they were away from the private rooms.
“Hush, coz, come up. I‘ll tell thee, when we are safe. “
Isabel hurried up the steps. It was a cold January morning and she was eager to find out what was happening and return to a warm fire.
“You are to be my attendant, dear cousin. I rely on your discretion.” Anne said in a soft voice. “I am to wed the King. This morning, in secret.”
“Anne!” Isabel was startled into speaking loudly. “Is this true?”
Anne angrily put her hand over her mouth. “Cousin, did I not warn you? I thought you had more sense.”
Chastened, Isabel fell silent. They went along the dark passage to a small chamber where the King was waiting. He took Anne in his arms and kissed her, before calling a man from the shadows in the corner of the room, to “haste and make them man and wife.”
She was to be a witness of the marriage, together with one of Henry’s gentlemen, Sir Henry Norris. The priest came forward, and began to recite the words of the wedding service.
Isabel looked sideways at her cousin. Anne looked a little puffy faced and tired. She was fortunate in having an olive complexion; this meant that she rarely looked pale, but her dark-brown eyes were not as lustrous as usual; she looked as if she had not slept. Her beautiful black hair, where it showed under her hood, was still shining and lovely but there was a look of weariness about her.
Part II
Seeing this, and thinking of Anne’s behaviour of late, the younger girl was increasingly sure that there was a good reason for this hasty and secret wedding ceremony. Of course, many, perhaps most of the people of the country, from the nobility to the common folk, were against the marriage. They believed that Henry’s true wife was the Spanish Princess, Katherine of Aragon, but he was a man of determination and he wanted to marry the Boleyn girl, who had merely been a maid of honour in his wife’s service.
The stubborn young Mistress Boleyn had refused to give way to him, but in the end the King had had his way. After six years of courtship, Isabel knew that a few months ago, when they had been visiting Calais, Anne had become his mistress, in hopes of becoming his wife soon. She had been with Anne, during that meeting with the French King, in Calais. Henry was engaged in diplomatic negotiations with King Francis to get support for his new marriage. Francis had known Anne, many years ago, when she had been a maid of honor in the French court and treated her as almost a queen.
Henry and Anne had rejoiced to be away from England. There had been much less formality at Calais and during the time they spent there, their intimacy had become deeper.
Isabel now became suspicious that Anne was expecting a child. The babe would have been conceived while they were away. There had been signs over the past month or so, that had led her ladies to wonder if she was with child. She was tired and fretful, and more secretive than usual. Henry would not allow his new heir to be born a bastard, so he was determined to marry her early in the pregnancy. But until the time was right to announce the marriage, he would want to keep it a secret. So he wanted witnesses whose integrity was beyond reproach, but who could also be trusted not to talk of what they had seen.
Isabel knew that she was being honoured. She was being treated as one who was discreet enough to act as Anne’s witness. It was a far cry from her earlier upbringing in the house of the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk, Anne’s step grandmother. She had been reared there, in the maids’ dormitory, with her elderly cousin’s ladies. Francis Bladon, her father had been an impoverished scion of the Howard family. He had followed the family trade of soldiering. Left with a small child, orphaned by her mother’s death, He had passed his daughter into the care of the Duchess. Then he too had died of a fever, leaving her almost penniless.
Anne had been friendly with the old lady, and visited her often. She liked Isabel, who was more intelligent than many of the duchess’s young maidens. So she had persuaded her father to take the girl into their home. The Duchess Agnes had been pleased to find a good place for her protégée, because it was not easy to find positions at court for a penniless young lady, and she had many other relatives to assist. Without a dowry, Isabel did not have many hopes of marriage, but as a member of a household like the Boleyns’, she might find a husband.
So, Isabel had developed an admiration for Anne, who had been one of the few people in her life to show her some kindness. At first, the Boleyns had sent her to Hever, to the care of the Lady Elizabeth Boleyn, Anne’s mother. Elizabeth wanted her to be of assistance in running the family mansions of Hever Castle in Kent and Blickling, in Norfolk. Isabel did not believe she would ever have the chance to go to Court nor to meet a suitor...
But a year or so after Isabel had moved to Hever, Anne was sent back to live there. Her love affair with Henry Percy – son of the Earl of Northumberland, had caused a scandal at court. Her father -Thomas Boleyn - had been furious with his daughter. So she had had to withdraw from her position at court and go back to her home. During that time, at Hever, she and Isabel became good friends.
As she knelt by Anne, during the service, Isabel’s mind drifted back to the past, to those happier days. She wondered if perhaps, as she now made ready to wed with the King, Anne had been thinking of Hever as well.
***************
Part III
Soon after the Percy affair, in 1523, Anne had been desperately unhappy at the loss of her Northern suitor. Percy had been a quiet shy lad, of noble birth, but not sophisticated. He had been dazzled by the lovely and Frenchified Mistress Boleyn, who was then just 21. They had exchanged promises, and had hoped to be able to marry. Still, they both knew that the Percy family would not easily give consent to their eldest son marrying a girl whose father was merely a knight, a girl who did not have a handsome dowry. So the affair had been broken off. Percy had been scolded by his father and hurried into marriage with Lady Mary Talbot, another nobleman’s daughter. Anne had been punished by her Father, and sent back to her house in the country.
She had arrived at Hever in a raging temper. But Isabel had soon realised that Anne had had a true and heartfelt love for Henry Percy. She had wanted to be his wife, for his own sake. It had not just been a desire to become a Countess. The girls had shared a bedchamber, where Isabel had often heard her crying at night. She felt great sympathy for her cousin and tried to convey, without words, that Anne could confide in her, but she never did. The younger Boleyn girl had a haughty nature and a hot hasty temper, and she had too much pride to cry in front of others.
Isabel had had a few flirtations, when the families of the local gentry visited Hever, but she was much less striking in her looks than Anne. The younger Mistress Boleyn was dark and exotic looking, while the Bladon girl was fair and no more than pretty. She had blond hair, blue eyes and was rather too tall for beauty. Anne’s dark French looks had made her stand out at court and wherever she went. Some felt she was not very handsome, because she was slim rather than curvaceous, and her darkness, even her almond shaped eyes, made her look foreign. The general taste was for blonde blue eyed women.
But many men were drawn to her. Isabel herself thought that Anne’s sparkling nature and her skill at dressing with elegance gave her charm and attracted male admiration. The Lady Elizabeth Boleyn had shown little sympathy to her daughter. She had berated her for being dismissed from court. So Anne had had to get over her unhappy love affair as best she could, alone.
The Lady Elizabeth was not a very warm hearted woman. She strictly trained her young relative in running a manor house and in the household tasks that would be expected of a married lady. For the rest of the time, Isabel was free to amuse herself. But she was bored and lonely. Anne’s coming changed all that. The two girls went riding together, helped Lady Elizabeth with her duties, practised their music and dancing, and read poetry and romances. Isabel loved the interiors of Hever Castle, with its panelled walls, window seats and air of comfort and took pride in helping to keep it up but she also enjoyed her times with her cousin.
Anne had a sweet voice and was talented at the lute and virginals. She soon acquired a music master; to help her keep up her playing and singing, and this young man taught Isabel also. As time passed, Isabel began to hope that Anne was now happier. Many of the local gentry paid calls, and some were clearly attracted to her, but she did not even flirt.
Isabel felt that Anne was too arrogant to wed a country squire after being such a success at the royal court. She had had two suitors who were much richer and grander than those gentlemen who were merely men who had small estates in Kent, and who only wished to go on living quietly and farming their acres.
Anne had loved to talk of her successes at court, how she had danced and sung in masquerades, and how her father had sought a great marriage for her.
“But you see Isabel, my father’s idea of a great marriage is not mine-.” she said one day as they sat embroidering.
“I should be glad of any husband, Cousin Anne,” Isabel said demurely. “’Tis the only hope I have for a comfortable life.”
“You will always have a place here, my sweet Isabel. You know that the Boleyns will take care of you.” Anne said, more kindly.
Then she returned to her story. “But my father wanted me to marry James Butler, our Irish cousin. Ha, a wild Irish savage, who can barely speak like a civilised gentleman. “
Isabel had heard that Butler had spent time at the English court, but she knew her cousin had never wished for the marriage and was prejudiced against her suggested bridegroom. She did not contradict her.
“So I told him I would not wed Butler. He insisted that I should, and the negotiations went on and on. I hoped that the Butlers would never agree to his terms, and the match would fail.”
“Sir Thomas is a very determined man though.”
“Aye, that’s very true. Yet, he was not ill pleased when Henry and I began to care for each other. He would have been glad enough, had I been successful and become the Lady Percy and then the Countess of Northumberland. Hal would have been a greater match than James Butler, of Ireland. But it was not to be. Now, of course my father still hopes for a grand match but I must wait. He said that I shall return to court later and he will find a new husband for me.”
“My lord Butler does not now wish for the marriage?”
“Nay, I think he never cared to marry me. Ah Isabel, ‘tis wearily dull here, is it not? Nothing but calls from the good Kentish squires and their worthy ladies. “
“I am glad to see them. I know that I am unlikely to find a place at court.”
“I fear it is so, Isabel. I would be glad if you could come, but Father –“
Anne broke off speaking, not wishing to say that Sir Thomas would not do any more for Isabel Bladon than he had already done. He was preoccupied with the affairs of his own close kinfolk, not a distant cousin. She coughed and then resumed.
“The local gentry are well enough, but ‘tis of no use for me to receive gentlemen callers, here. I know that father would never permit me to marry a mere knight. He still wants me to be a countess.”
Isabel nodded. She would be grateful for a marriage with any gentleman, even one without the title of knight. But she knew the Boleyns aimed higher. Lady Elizabeth was the daughter of the Duke of Norfolk, a good match for Sir Thomas. His family had reached the ranks of the gentry, but they had formerly been in trade, in London. So, now, Sir Thomas had hopes of matching his own children with the nobility. He was negotiating for his son George to marry Jane Parker, the daughter of a nobleman. Still Anne had always been lively and coquettish, and it was surprising that she did not even try to amuse herself with a light dalliance with one of the Kentish squires.
However, Isabel realised that one reason for Anne’s reticent behaviour, in Hever, was to do with her other sibling, her older sister Mary. George and Anne were the clever ones of the family. Mary, the eldest, was foolish. She had never shown any interest in learning or study. She had other talents. She was beautiful, with pink and white skin, strawberry blonde hair and bright blue eyes. She was rather plump, with a high pitched giggle and a saucy sway in her walk and she had a way of enticing men. Like Anne, she had been in service at the French court.
She had come away from there with a bad reputation. She had become the King’s mistress, and not content with that, had shared her favours with other courtiers as well. Anne had told Isabel that at the court, she had had to be especially careful. Mary’s foolish and light behaviour had made the French queen and many of the courtiers believe that she herself would be as wanton as her sister.
After her return to the English court, Mary had been appointed to serve Queen Katherine, but had caught the eye of the king. Before long, he had taken the girl as his mistress and paraded her, very unusually, as his favourite. Thomas Boleyn had been delighted that his daughter had secured a lover who would bring wealth to the family, and promote their interests. Henry had never been very generous to the women he seduced. He had taken a few maidens, briefly and the wenches got no more than a few trinkets. However, the Boleyns were an astute family and had made the most of Mary’s connection with their King. Anne alone of them disliked the affair and wished that Mary would be more discreet in her amours. That was one reason why she was not anxious to return to court.
Part IV
It was now almost May, and Anne had been at home for over two months. Now, the cold dreary weather of winter had passed away, to be replaced by warm sunshine. The flowers were blooming in the hedgerows and fields. The countryside was beginning to put on its summer clothing and both girls felt their hearts lightening. Riding became a pleasure rather than a way of travelling. So one day, the two young women decided to go riding and to Isabel’s amazement, her cousin appeared in a boy’s suit of doublet, shirt and dark green hose, with riding boots. She herself wore an old riding habit of Anne’s, also of dark green. It had a full skirt, and a hat with a feather, a short coat and shirt.
“Why Nan, how is’t that you are dressed as a boy? The lady Elizabeth would be horrified.”
“Ah, but she will not find out. She has taken to her bed, last night with a megrim and will be lying asleep all day, most likely. Mistress Ellen has given her a posset to ease the pains. I wanted to ride one of George’s horses and this suit makes it easier. I learned to ride astride, before I went to France.”
“But that horse of George’s is dangerous, so I’ve heard.”
“Nay, I fear him not. I like to ride wild fierce horses. Come, we can ride to the village and see if there is any news, among the peasantry.”
Isabel thought that Anne must be very weary of her life in Hever, if she was eager to hear the village gossip as to which of the village girls were with child, or if some old granny in the village was thought to be a witch, to entertain herself. So she nodded and went to get a basket with some foods in it, to give to anyone in want.
When they reached Edenbridge, Anne dismounted and strolled towards the small cottage which contained the only shop in the hamlet. She was enjoying the stares of the common folk and jingling a few coins in her purse. Isabel held back and let her go first. She always felt a little embarrassed at Anne’s desire to be conspicuous, but in spite of the older girl’s faults, she was truly fond of her.
They left their horses in the care of a groom, while they wandered around the muddy street. Anne laughed at a sally or two from the local women, who were half shocked by her garb. However they could not deny that she looked well in boys’ clothing, which showed off her slim figure to admiration. There was little of interest in the small shop, because mostly the villagers could only afford the necessities of life and they obtained these by barter, as much as by commerce.
As Anne looked at bunches of herbs, which could be made into pomanders to ward off disease and evil smells, Isabel looked out into the street. She heard one of the women remark that yet another gentleman was a-coming to the village today! She looked along the road to see a tall man with a beard, riding a large horse, bigger than George’s. She knew him. Thomas Wyatt, the son of the squire of Allington Castle, and he had a lady with him, riding pillion behind a groom. Wyatt was a courtier, and he was also a cousin of Anne’s. Isabel knew that they had been at court together, a few months earlier, when Percy had been courting her friend. But she had not spoken much about him... It seemed that the childhood friendship with the Wyatts had cooled.
On seeing her however, Wyatt dismounted and signed to his groom to take his horse and to help the lady down from her seat behind him.
“You know my sister Mary, Mistress Isabel? Mary, this is Mistress Isabel Bladon who is now companion to the Lady Elizabeth Boleyn.”
Mary pushed back the hood of her cloak. She made a curtsy. Isabel responded in kind. The Wyatt girl was pretty, with dark brown eyes and a piquant little face. She looked about 16.
“Mistress Anne is inside,” Isabel said, indicating the shop-cottage with her hand.
Wyatt resembled his sister. He had dark brown hair and eyes and he was handsome, a well- built and strong man.
But now his face creased as if in disapproval, and he said “Mary wanted to look in to find some herbs… but we must not tarry. I was taking Mary to visit our old nurse, who has been ill, and we were taking her a basket of comforts.”
She wondered why he seemed angry, but before he could turn away, there was a commotion. The large horse had been prancing, bored and restless. The groom seemed to lose his grip on the beast, and the horse broke free, and he charged about. The women screamed and panicked; this agitated the animal further, to see their flapping cloaks and hear their cries.
Wyatt swore at his groom, but the man seemed to have lost his wits. He ran, shouting, toward the horse, and Mary took fear, and dropped her basket. She tried to run away and fell, but as the horse plunged about, Anne Boleyn appeared, in the doorway. She was in close fitting clothes with nothing that could flap and alarm the animal, so she moved hastily alongside him and caught at the rein.
“Nan, have a care. Leave him, he’s too strong for you,” Isabel cried.
Anne was indeed very slender, but her weight seemed to be sufficient to hold the horse back, and she called out softly “Don’t alarm him. Tom, pray you help me?”
Tom finally managed to gather his scattered wits and approached the horse, taking its bridle on the other side and speaking firmly but gently to the animal. He was fit and strong, skilled in all manly sports and his hand was familiar to the horse. The beast calmed and stopped threshing about.
“Pray you, Nan, let go.” he said to the young woman who gently released her hold on the bridle.
“Do not punish him, Tom.”
“No, he is a wild strong beast, but it was that thrice-damned groom’s fault for letting him get excited and break loose.”
Anne rubbed her wrists. “Thank God, all is well now.”
She turned to see what had happened to Mary. Isabel had helped her up. She was shaken and bruised but not harmed.
“Good cousin, you are not hurt. Jesu, but I am glad. Isabel, thank God you were by to help her.”
“You were the brave one, Cousin Nan-” Mary said, with feeling.
“Nay, ‘tis naught. Horses rarely trample on a fallen rider. But you must go home, Mary. Thomas, take her home and let her rest.”
Tom stood, still looking at Anne as if he had never seen her before.
“Nan, I must thank you for your bravery in saving Mall... I never thought a woman could have such courage.”
“Why Tom, I just acted. I have looked to myself for many years, ever since I was almost a child and they sent me abroad, to serve the Lady Margaret and then the French Queen.”
Thomas reached out to her, but then let his hand drop. There was something almost forlorn about how she had spoken. Anne smiled wryly at him.
“I did but return to Allington yesterday, Cousin. If you are at Hever, may I call upon you? Perhaps on the morrow?”
“In truth you are welcome, Cousin Tom,” she replied politely. “You have come from Court?”
“Aye. Mall, we must go and look for a few herbs for old Susan. Then we shall go and see her.”
“Tom,” Anne said with a laugh, “Pray take the poor wench home. She has had a fall and a fright.”
“No, no. I am well enough; we must go and see our good Susan. Anne, I thank you again.”
Mary smiled and curtsied towards her cousin, then went toward the shop to buy her herbs.
Anne put her purchases into the small basket that Isabel carried.
“We must ask if any old woman’s in need and take them some food. “
“Begging pardon, Mistress Bullen,” put in one of the village women, “But Goody Parker has had pains and fever for three days now. ‘Twould be a kindness in you to go to her cottage… The poor old crone is nigh on fifty years of age. “
“Aye, she is grand-dam to that flighty wench, Bess Hardy. An idle slut is Bess. A doxy....She’s not one to care for an old woman. She is always after the lads. ‘T is certain sure that she will come home with a swollen belly…“
“I shall speak to her. If her granddam needs nursing, the girl must do it.”
Anne fumbled in her purse. “Here, Goodwife. If the woman needs anything, you can buy it for her. Or send a message to the castle.”
Isabel shook her head. “Anne, we have with us some foods, for the old folk. We must take the names of women who are with child, so that we can provide baby linen. But to dole out money is foolish. Who knows if they will spend it wisely?”
“What can they buy here, that would be foolish? There’s naught but herbs and a few foods and some cloth to buy for making clothes. “
“But there’s ale. If the lady Elizabeth were to hear of this-“
”Oh Isabel, have done. If the poor old woman buys something to make her forget her pains…what matter?”
“What matters is that your lady mother will be angry. “
“Aye, but I think we are too old for her to whip us, cousin.”
Isabel gave a wry laugh. Lady Elizabeth was not particularly kindly or loving but she was not usually actively harsh to her children. The old Duchess of Norfolk, on the other hand, had always been inclined to lash out at anyone in her household who displeased her. She often ignored her young ladies, and let them do as they pleased, but when she found evidence of misbehaviour, she would use her cane. This was one reason why she had been glad to have escaped from that house and the frequent rants and rages of the old lady.
“Come then, let us go and do our duties, Cousin Anne. “
Part V
The young women went about their charitable visits, for the rest of the day. They went to see the old folk and Anne advised about medicine. It was the duty of the lady of the Manor to know about doctoring so that she could aid people with illness. Anne and Isabel had both learned from Lady Elizabeth. She spoke to two women who were expecting children, and promised them some baby clothes. They spoke to Bess, the flighty wench they had heard of, who had an elderly grandmother… Anne told her that she must take better care of old Goody Parker. Bess was a saucy creature, and with folks of her own rank, she was often defiant. But she was overawed by Anne, and did not dare to answer her. She merely curtsied and bowed her head and was in fact too shaken to speak.
Later in the day, they returned to Hever, to dine. After the meal, Anne was asked to play her lute and entertain the company. Isabel listened, enjoying the sweetness of her friend’s voice. She loved music, but did not consider herself particularly talented at it. She was more skilled in helping in the gardens, growing plants for the household, herbs and flowers. But she did envy her friend’s beauty, a little. She knew that many folks did not consider Anne very pretty, because she was not curvaceous with a full bosom, and she did not have a fair and rosy skin… yet it was obvious that there was something exotic about the girl that drew men to her.
As she looked over at young Andrew, she saw that in spite of the fact that he was studying to become a priest, he too was staring at her cousin, avidly. He was the son of a knight - a poor relation. The Boleyns had paid for him to go to University, and now he was assisting their chaplain. He had just returned to the household after an absence of a few months, and now he was clearly taken with Anne’s loveliness. Isabel was surprised to find herself feeling a twinge of jealousy. During her months at Hever, she had grown friendly with Master Andrew. She had found him an interesting intelligent young fellow. He was only 19, yet he was mature and knowledgeable about many things. Living in the country, he knew about farming and growing herbs for medicines. He was also acquainted with the classics and with affairs of state. He was one of the few at Hever who could entertain her with intelligent conversation. Lady Elizabeth was not interested and was too busy with her household cares. Sir Thomas was rarely there –and he did not think of females as intelligent. Mademoiselle Simonette, Anne’s governess, during her childhood had died. So Isabel had found him a solace in the dullness of life at Hever. She was a little depressed to see that he seemed to admire Anne so much.
The following morning, when they had heard Mass, and had broken their fast, she and Andrew found themselves alone in the hall.
“’Tis good to see you again, Mistress Isabel. I have missed Hever.”
“Oh indeed master Andrew? “
“Aye. I have founds some books in my old aunt’s home, and brought them for you. Volumes of poetry. You always complain that you have not enough to read.”
Isabel softened. “’Tis kind of you, sir. I’ll be very glad of them. Anne has brought some poems from court and some of the new music. And some romances.”
“Ah, I had thought that Mistress Anne would have the most amusing books, and I was right.”
Isabel wondered if he was criticising her cousin and found herself ranged on Anne’s side.
“Anne is not all frivolity, good sir. She concerns herself with many things, not just idle gossip or courtly flirtation.”
“I know. Her brother has often spoken highly of her intelligence, and wit. And indeed Mistress Isabel-“
Andrew seemed about to say something and then stopped himself. Isabel was a little surprised. He was usually a straight and honest young man who did said what he meant, simply. Then he shook his head.
“I was – Um -. I believe you were visiting the cottage folk yesterday, Mistress Isabel. I had meant to – um – As you know, my lady aunt died recently and left me her little fortune. Besides some books, and ornaments, there is also some clothing. Might it be given to the poor hereabouts?”
“’Tis good for you to consider that, master Andrew. I cannot say. Haply the garments might be cut up and made into simpler gowns for some of the local women?”
“Lady Elizabeth will say they are too fine for the poor, but I say no. Why should they – poor creatures – wear homespun and shiver, when my aunt’s clothes are here and can be used?”
Isabel smiled. She knew that Andrew did conceal his views about the poor…He did not tell the Boleyns’ chaplain or the Boleyns themselves that he was so sympathetic to them. While some priests were more liberal in their feeling for the poor than the gentry, usually an ambitious young man would not express such beliefs too publicly. Andrew was from a poor gentry family. He had studied at Oxford, and had been intended for the church by his relatives, to give him a living. Still now, she wondered, if his aunt’s death had left him with more money. Haply if he had inherited some small fortune, he might not need to go into the priesthood to have a career. Yet it was unlikely that the aunt had had any land or great property to bestow and so he would still need to find employment.
“Our Lord loves the poor.” he said truculently. “I wish that more people could read the Scriptures in English, so that they would know His words…”
Isabel was a little startled. This was dangerous talk. “But surely poor folks should be taught by those that know more than them, who can learn Latin... “
“The Word of God is for everyone, and I believe that all should be able to read it in their own language.”
“Have a care, Master Andrew.”
“I will Mistress. I should not have spoken so to you. I beg pardon.”
The following day, Tom Wyatt paid his promised call and Anne seemed pleased to see him. They began a lively discussion of music, and Anne played her lute and sang. He was more knowledgeable about literature and poetry though and the conversation drifted into those channels.
Anne admitted that she -“though a mere woman” - had occasionally tried to write poems herself, but would not show him any of her efforts.
“I cannot be bound to sonnets with metres, in the way that you can, Master Wyatt…” she said half laughing. "I have enough to do to find a rhyme...."
“Poetry must rhyme, Mistress Anne, and have metre, or else it is mere prose.”
After he had left, Anne and Isabel agreed that he was more pleasant now than he had been for some time.
“I have heard talk, at court, that his wife is – a flighty flirtatious woman -and that he has discovered her more than once, in some affair. I suppose that has made him angry and scornful of women.”
“I suppose it is not considered – fashionable – at court to complain of such matters? Like – Mary’s husband.” Isabel said diffidently.
“Nay, and since her lover was the King, poor Will Carey could say naught. Some men might give her a good beating...”
Next day Tom called again and seemed even friendlier. Lady Elizabeth sat with the girls when they received him, so conversation was stilted. After he had taken his leave, a message had arrived saying that a relative of the Howards, one of Lady Elizabeth’s nieces, who had settled in the next county, had miscarried of a child. Her husband had sent to the Boleyns, asking for help. So it was likely that Elizabeth would be travelling to stay with her for a few weeks.
Next morning, Isabel left the Lady Elizabeth busy with preparations for the journey, and went to the still room, to supervise the maids who were preparing medicines. Anne was nowhere to be seen. The previous evening, she had said that there was a new book she wished to read.
Isabel felt a little annoyed that her cousin was neglecting her duties. She left the maids and went to Anne’s bedchamber. She tapped on the door, but no reply came. She then cautiously opened it and was surprised to see her cousin jumping from the window seat, and holding her hands behind her back.
Part VI
“Why Nan, what’s to do?”
Anne glared, her face reddening. “Must you creep about, Isabel? May I not be left alone in my own chamber?”
She moved back against the seat again and Isabel heard something fall. Anne had a way of hiding her left hand in her long sleeves because she was embarrassed by a small blemish on one finger. Now she reached for the pomander that hung from her girdle. Isabel had never seen her look so nervous.
“Nan, I crave your pardon if I intruded. I did not mean to. I did but wish to ask if you were coming to the still room today.”
“I shall go when I please. Mother will be away for some time, and I am weary of her nagging and ordering me… “
Isabel felt irritated now. Anne was supposed to help with the household’s management, not to lie about in her room or in the garden, reading or to go riding when there were things to be attended to. The dark haired girl looked angry though, and it was prudent to retreat. But as she began to leave the room, she caught sight of Anne picking up the object which had fallen... It was a small book. She turned again.
Anne’s dark eyes flashed furiously.
“Am I never to be alone?”
Isabel backed away. Anne had a hot and violent temper. She returned to the still room. Anne later came to the Great hall to wish her Mother Godspeed, but after her departure, Tom Wyatt had called. Anne then went off to the gardens to speak with him and spent an hour in his company.
After they had dined, the two maidens were in the solar together. A little awkward because of their dispute…
“Anne, I am sorry if I came to the room when you were wishing to be alone, but I did not mean to intrude. “
Anne shook her head. “Aye, forgive me Isabel. I should not have been so angry. But I pray you; do not speak of this…”
“You can trust me...”
“Come up to the bedchamber…”
Upstairs, Anne opened a small chest which she had kept locked, with a key which hung from her waist… Then she held out a book for her cousin to see.
“Nan, this is an English book of the Scriptures. This is –“
“I know...”
“But Nan, you must be careful. I have never been to court, but I know the King disapproves…”
“And I have been to court, Cousin, and there are many there who read the scriptures in their native tongue. Where do you think I came by the book?”
“George?”
“Nay. Not George, I cannot tell you; I must be able to trust you to keep this to yourself, cousin.”
“Is it Master Andrew? He is attracted to these new ideas.”
“I shall not say, my good Isabel.”
“Nay, my cousin, you know you can trust me…”
“Aye. But I must be careful. Yet I believe that in time, many will come to agree with me... people of education and breeding. Why should we ruled by a foreigner like the Pope? Or be told that we cannot read God’s word in our own language?”
”Indeed Anne, when you speak of it, and - and Master Andrew, I can see good sense in what you say. It seems wrong that priests should be deprived of holy wedlock... when so many of them take concubines… Surely ‘twould be better if they could take wives and enjoy the comforts of marriage.”
“It angers me, that so many lead a life of luxury, in the world, and at court, while neglecting their duties especially to the poor.”
“Aye, but to counter that, Anne, many priests are dedicated to the poor.”
Part VII
For the next few weeks, with Lady Elizabeth away, Isabel was busier than ever. Anne had said jokingly that it was “good training” for her to be able to run the household, without her ladyship’s supervision.
Isabel was happier, indeed without her mistress overlooking her and criticising her, and she could spend more time with Anne, Tom Wyatt and Master Andrew, when her work was done. The four young people enjoyed the fact that they were not subject to such strict chaperonage. Isabel liked Master Andrew’s company and they talked of all sorts of things, but she was a little concerned that Anne was taking too much advantage of her mother’s absence.
She and Tom led the conversation, and he would read his poems and talk about Court matters and gossip from the Royal family. He wrote poems to ladies whom he had never even met, but had adored from afar. Anne teased him about this.
“You poets, you never wish to love a lady truly, or to find happiness in wedlock. It is all admiring a woman’s looks and having no regard for her character.”
“Oh Nan, what woman does not want to hear her looks praised? To be told that her hair is like the blackest silk, or that she has eyes that are more beautiful than the stars that shine? Or that her skin is smooth and white as milk?”
“I might not. I’ve heard false compliments so many times. And no woman can be as beautiful as these ladies the poets praise...”
Tom called every day; Anne would go out with him to the gardens and not return for a long time. Mistress Ellen, who had been Anne’s nurse and was an elderly and privileged servant, was getting too old to do much work. Isabel hoped that she would be a chaperone to Anne, but she did not seem to notice her nursling’s frequent disappearances.
She guessed that Tom was the one who had lent Anne the English scripture, and that he was interested in the new ideas on religion – yet she could see clearly that his feelings for Anne were more than just a friendship. They enjoyed discussing subjects of interest but Thomas had obviously fallen in love with her. His eyes were fixed on her all the time, when they sat and talked. But he was a married man. Her love for Percy had been doomed because of their difference in rank, yet Lord Percy had at least been free to marry…
She could see that Anne liked him. They had many interests in common; their conversations about poetry and writing were lively. They joked and laughed. Her cousin clearly managed to make her way out of the castle, to spend a little time alone with him.
Anne had been informally betrothed to Hal Percy but that engagement had not been official. Isabel felt sure that she had not have given herself to her lover, out of marriage. She had heard arguments between the girl and her parents, after the return from court. They had been worried that she had lost her maidenhood, to him, during their time of “betrothal”, but had been reassured…
But with Tom Wyatt? Her youthful passions had been roused by Percy, and she had been angry that he had been taken from her. Now she had become more rebellious. She might feel that since Tom had had to marry according to his father’s wishes, and had an unhappy marriage, she and he could find happiness together. Anne had always been willful and girls could be wild and foolish.. as well as young men.
One day, about a week after Lady Elizabeth’s departure, Isabel was witness to a friendly scuffle between the two, where Tom took a chain from Anne’s girdle. It was a silver chain with a small pendant attached. Nothing of great value. But he kissed it and put it away. Anne pretended to be cross yet she was clearly not averse to letting him have a love token.
Part VIII
It was a relief to Isabel when a few days later, Wyatt’s father returned to Allington and his son had to stay at home, discussing the business of the estate, and did not have so much time for social calls. Anne however clearly missed him. The two girls were out walking in the gardens, inspecting plants for various preparations…
“Anne -dearest Anne,” Isabel said, “I can see that you are wishing Master Wyatt would come, but perhaps it is better so.”
“For pity’s sake Bell, do not talk to me.” Anne moodily kicked a pebble on the path. Am I never to have any happiness? When his father goes, he will likely take Tom with him back to Court. Or my mother will return and we will be watched and criticised. Was it my fault that –“
She tugged at the posy of herbs she was carrying, and pulled one of them out, throwing it down angrily. Isabel dreaded her cousin in this mood. She could be so sweet and charming, and yet so angry and sullen.
“I know it is hard, dear Anne.” she said gently. “I wish you could have wed Lord Percy, for I know you loved him…”
Anne’s full lipped rosy mouth drooped. Then she sighed and said,
“I trow that you are thinking -how could I love him and then Thomas?”
Isabel said nothing. They wandered over to a bench and sat down; Anne kicked again at the ground with her little velvet shoe.
“I do love him -Bell. I had thought that I could never feel love for another man after Percy. I hated the thought of being made to wed someone chosen by my father. I could not allow another man to touch me when I remembered Hal’s kisses.”
Isabel made no answer. She could understand such feelings - still she knew that ambitious parents would not care that their daughters were afraid or unwilling to be forced into marriage and into sharing their beds with men they hardly knew, or who were many years older than them. If Sir Thomas found a man for his daughter, of suitable rank and birth, he would force her to marry. Even Anne, stubborn and rebellious and clever as she was, would find it very hard to resist. She had managed to avoid being wed to James Butler, but if another marriage was proposed, she was not likely to be lucky a second time.
“I know, Nan. And now?”
“Now. Oh Isabel. When we first saw Tom again, I was angry with him because he had been very cold to me when we were both at court. Since we – since he started to come here every day, he said that he had been in love with me, even then and it angered him to see me flirt with so many young men, and then to fall in love with Hal Percy.”
“I see. I had thought that perhaps he was disapproving of Mary’s behaviour.”
“He’s not a prude, but he was – angry about his wife and her – follies…”
“Like most men, he thinks that ‘t is not fitting for a woman to take a lover, but a man can have his mistresses?”
“Aye. I was – I wanted to make him pay court to me, as men do. I wanted him to flirt, to desire me, so I tried my hardest to draw him to me, when he began to visit us. I succeeded too well, I do believe. And I myself have been caught in my own net.”
Part IX
Anne sighed again and threw her posy on the ground. “I loved Hal. Truly, though ‘twas a girlish love. He was a fine man and kindly and good, and handsome, he truly cared for me. It was a terrible pain for me, when he – could not stand out against his father, and married that Talbot wench.. But Tom is different. I loved Hal, but he knew little of books, or learning. Tom is clever and witty and knows the world of the court, and the world of learning too. I can talk to him, of so many different things, as I never could with Hal.”
“I believe you love him more than you did lord Percy.”
“Love... nay, love is different. I loved each of them, and I cannot say that one was a truer love than the other. Perchance my love for Tom is deeper…”
Isabel smiled. That was a wise remark. But she ached with sympathy for Anne, and there was naught she could do.
“I did not mean to fall in love with him, but he was kind to me. He understood about Hal and how I had felt. I began to long for him, to wish for him to call each day and listen to me. I soon realised that I cared for him more than was prudent, but –“
Isabel felt uneasy. If Anne had yielded to Thomas Wyatt, it was worse than if she had become Lord Percy’s mistress. He had been free to marry, or at least had not been married and it was possible that the Boleyns could have persuaded Lord Northumberland to allow the match. But Wyatt had been married for years and was a father. There was no way that he could marry Anne...
“But Anne, has anything every happened? You have often stolen away, to talk to him, alone. If her ladyship were here…”
“I know. She would not permit it. Yes, I have been alone with him. I have never been his paramour. “
“Tom is too great a gentleman Isabel...,” Anne went on. “I have let him embrace me, we have been almost as lovers but he would never force me or dishonour me. I know that. But – I have taken pleasure in his caresses- I let him kiss my breasts, hold me close… Oh Bell, ‘tis hard to feel love and desire for a man, and know that you can never be his…”
Isabel shook her head. So far, she had never loved anyone like that. Master Andrew was her only male friend, and he was not a man whom she thought of as a lover. It was rare, in that society, for young men and maidens to be able to form a friendship; but they liked each other and enjoyed each other’s company, both knowing that his vocation made it impossible for them to have any other closeness. She liked George Boleyn but he was rarely at home and was no more than civil to her... And she did not meet many other young men, and had little hope of ever having a marriage arranged for her. She could not help but envy Anne, whose beauty and charm attracted men, even if she knew the pain of loving and not being able to wed or bed them.
“Sweet Nan, I am so sorry. Haply it would be best if Master Wyatt was to return to court, and you could try to forget him.”
“I shall never forget him, nor he me,” Anne said flatly. “But you are in the right of it. I must try to occupy myself. He will have to go back soon… Come now coz, let us try and –“
She broke off, choking back a sob.
“Aye, why not go to the still room and prepare some perfumes?”
Part X
She felt thankful that Anne was being so sensible. For a few days past, they had been making preparations to distil rose oil perfume. They had been picking roses in the gardens, each morning, pinching out the petals and putting them into glass jars with water, and leaving them in the sun to warm and ooze into a liquid. They collected some of the jars now, and put them in a basin, over a small fire, to allow the oils to rise into a still. When it had evaporated and cooled, the oils would rise to the top of the mixture and could be poured off into a bottle for use, as a perfume. They chattered lightly as they worked, and Isabel could see that Anne was trying her best to be cheerful. A few days later, she had need of her strength of purpose -because Wyatt had been told by his father than it was time to return to court, and he told Anne that he had to go.
Isabel decided to leave them alone for a little, knowing that she should stay and chaperone them but not wishing to intrude on the last day of Anne’s romance. She pitied her cousin... it was only a few months since she had come from court, weeping over Hal Percy. Now, she was left here at Hever while the new man she loved, who cared for her, had to leave her. And some day, she supposed, Anne would be told that another marriage had been arranged for her. Thomas Boleyn was busy about affairs at court, but he would want to get his second daughter off his hands, before she had a reputation for too many flirtations… Isabel believed that at this stage, he would possibly welcome any husband, even a gentleman from Kent, to take his troublesome daughter.
Anne came into the Great Hall, later -red eyed, from saying farewell, but she did not dare to let herself be seen by the servants in such a state. She went to her chamber. Later, Isabel followed her and found her sitting dumbly on the bed, holding a scroll in her hands.
“It is his gift to me, a poem. I gave him my chain and pendant, earlier.”
“I know, my love,” Isabel touched her cousin’s loose black hair and gently stroked it. Anne did not resist but she then said rather tartly,
“You are fortunate my friend. You will probably never be forced to wed against your will, as I shall.”
Isabel winced; her cousin could be so unkind at times, though she knew it was Anne’s misery that made her speak so. She would be glad of any husband, or at least an admirer. She was now almost 20 and while that was not old for a girl to be given in marriage, she had no dowry so her prospects were bleak.
After their dinner, to take their minds off their unhappiness, the two girls washed their hair. This was a task rarely undertaken because it took so long to dry, but Anne was fastidious and liked to wash her long black tresses in herb scented water, regularly. Isabel gathered camomile, to make her fair hair even blonder.
Next day, they had two messages that surprised them. Lady Elizabeth had sent a letter to say she would be home soon. Her niece was out of her bed and able to manage the house again and she would travel home as soon as might be arranged. The other message was from Sir Thomas; he was coming to Hever.
“Haply my father is come to take me back to Court. “ Anne said.
She was not sure how she felt. It gladdened her to think of being at the centre of things again, to have her admirers around her, perhaps to see Tom occasionally. She had been at home now for several months and it was high summer, so the court would be leaving London. It was hot there, dirty and full of disease, so they would leave their last palace to be “sweetened” and go to one of the palaces in the surrounding countryside. The maids of honour would be busy, and life would be more amusing. Yet she loved Hever; it was quiet but beautiful and Tom’s love and Isabel’s friendship had made it enjoyable, since the month of May had brought him to her. Yet – what if her father had now secured an offer of marriage for her and was coming to order her to accept a husband.
So both girls were very startled when Sir Thomas appeared, now stout and perspiring in the summer heat. He was dressed in velvets which made him appear even heavier, and he made an announcement that he had found a husband for Isabel. He was not inclined to waste his diplomatic skills on members of his own family so he simply told her bluntly, when he had arrived and prepared to dine.
“Father, surely you –“
“What Anne?” he said, clearly angry with his daughter.
“I crave pardon father – but – why is Isabel going to marry this – this – what is his name? Master Carleton?”
“Because I have found her a husband, girl. “
Anne glared. She was used to being considered as a beautiful girl who should make a good match, now, and even if she did not want to be forced into marriage, it was odd and seemed demeaning that her impoverished cousin was like to marry before her. And Isabel- though more than a little startled and frightened by this sudden news -was clearly willing to consider the marriage. Master Carleton was not an old man, unlike some men who were willing to take a penniless wife. He was less than 30, and had been widowed recently and since he was a soldier, he had need of a woman to keep house for him and to care for his two children. Sir Thomas was keen, it seemed to provide for his young dependent, and also he was pleased to use her marriage to make a connection to Master Carleton’s relatives. The soldier was a cousin of Charles Brandon, a good friend of the King’s and the Duke of Suffolk. Brandon had married the King’s sister Princess Mary...
“Isabel, I shall be going to court again on the morrow and Master Carleton will be with me, when I return. If you are willing, the marriage will take place soon as may be, after you meet him.”
She knew there was but one reply. Curtsying, she said “Sir, if it pleases you, if Master Carleton likes me when he sees me, I shall do as you wish.”
Sir Thomas nodded and reached for his wine goblet. The matter was closed.
After they had dined, Anne begged her cousin to go out walking with her. Isabel was glad, she was more than a little frightened by this sudden change in her life, but also excited by it.
“Sweet Isabel,” Anne said as soon as they were alone, “are you sure you wish for this? Can you bear it?”
“Aye, if - . He is not an old man, my sweeting. I can hope that he is a good man and will treat me with respect. And there will be his children. Besides, as a soldier, he will be from home at times. I know it is not what you hoped for from marriage, when you were betrothed to Lord Percy... But for a woman like me, it is enough to have a home and the prospect of children….”
Part XI
Anne pulled at a ring on her left hand. She could scarce believe that her father had not come with a husband for her… And now, she would be left alone at Hever while Isabel went to her husband’s small manor in Essex. She had now passed the age of one and twenty, and she was still unwed. The only suitors she had had, apart from Butler -were 2 men who were ineligible, Percy because of his high birth, and Wyatt because of his married status. She felt like weeping. All she could hope for now was for her father to take her back to court, when he next visited. It had been several months since her love for Percy had caused her to be sent home. The queen had not been angry with her –it had been her father’s decision to remove her as a punishment for her folly. So it was likely now that he was willing to bring her back and Queen Katherine would agree to it. Had her father given up hope of finding her a suitable husband? Did he mean for her to become the spinster daughter, who would help Lady Elizabeth as she grew older.
“Anne?” Isabel said uncertainly, “I shall miss you, certainly, but oh Anne, to have a home of my own. That is what I have longed for, these many years.”
“Tush, what if he’s a monster of a man? Or cruel to you?”
“I shall meet him as your father says. I hope that if he or I do not like each other, he will let me say nay. Sir Thomas is severe, but he is not cruel.”
Anne sighed. She supposed that If Isabel did say she refused, she could still stay at Hever, since she was a help to them, in managing the house. Her father would be angry, because he had secured an alliance with the Carleton and Brandon families. And Richard Carleton was willing to take her with only a token dowry. For herself, she supposed that Sir Thomas would not allow her to marry anyone less than a knight at least…
“Oh Jesu, Bell, if I could be as placid as you, accept the fate that’s in store for me. But I wanted true love or at least to have some feelings for my husband. Is that so wrong of me, sweeting?”
“Nay, but you are braver than most of us.”
“I hope you will miss us a little, cousin. I will be so lonely here with only my mother and Master Andrew for company. He will miss you too.”
“Oh, he is a young man; he has his own life and his vocation. Old Father Stephen is growing so old now that he can scarcely say Mass….. Master Andrew has been almost like a brother to me, Anne, like you with George.”
Anne smiled. She wondered if Isabel had been a little fond of Master Andrew, but had always held her feelings in check. She hoped that her cousin would find this soldier who was chosen for her, to be a decent man and a good husband.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Part XII
As they knelt together, Isabel became aware that the priest had stopped speaking. She had to rise from her knees and sign as a witness. During the short time of the service, so many memories had come back to her - and she felt somehow that Anne was remembering too. Over the years since that spring at Hever, she and Nan had seen each other often. At first, she had been busy in Essex with her stepson and daughter, and her new husband. Anne had gone back to court, later that summer, and then had asked her friend Marguerite, the French King’s sister, for a post in her household..
And then she had returned to England... and the King of England had chosen her as the woman he loved and wished to marry.
Isabel had spent periods of time at court, but mostly she preferred to be at home with Richard, and the children. Young Robert and Alice were fine children, and it mattered not to her that she had not borne them. She had been with child three times, but had not carried the babes to term... She and Richard had grown closer with the passing years, and while she liked to go to court and serve Anne, she missed him and was always happiest in their home. He was not a handsome man, he was weather-beaten from his service in the wars, but he had a kindly face, and a humorous way of talking, that delighted her.
The King bent forward and spoke to her, sounding genial.
“So my Lady Carleton, you will sign here – and then my sweet bride will go to her chamber and rest. We must take care of her now.”
Isabel curtsied low and followed his orders. It seemed strange that she was now related to the Queen of England… and that she was the wife of a knight. Anne had persuaded the king to give Richard that honour. She put an arm around her friend, who was looking very tired, indeed. She probably had not slept well- and she was in the early months of pregnancy, when sickness was common…
“Come, Madam,” she said formally. “We must get you to your chamber to rest and break your fast.”
Gently she led Anne down the stairs to her suite of rooms, and took off her headdress. Anne put a hand to her brow and looked as if she were in pain.
“Shall I get you some food, Anne?”
Anne looked up as if bewildered. “I am married to the King,” she said. Then she murmured something under her breath. Isabel felt rather than heard the words... “But I had rather been the wife of Tom Wyatt.”
THE END
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