Anne relaxed, and for the first time in months she felt safe. Everything was going to be all right. Henry loved her. The child within her was healthy. She had her friend to keep her company and raise her spirits. Turning, she smiled more broadly than anyone had ever seen Anne Boleyn smile. “My good liege, my lord mayor, members of the haberdashers’ company, my lords, and ladies, good citizens, I thank you from the bottom of my heart for this most gracious welcome. God bless you all!” And, raising her hand, she waved. A small cheer arose from the crowds watching. Anne, however, did not notice the paucity of the cheer, for she had already taken the king’s arm and was being escorted inside.
Behind her the great barge in which Anne had ridden bobbed at anchor, its twenty-four oarsmen having disembarked. The vessel had previously belonged to Katherine of Aragon. It was probably the finest barge in England. Katherine would have no further use for it, Anne reasoned, and ordered her chamberlain to confiscate it and have it refurbished for her.
Chapuys, the ambassador from Katherine’s nephew who was both king of Spain and the holy Roman emperor, complained to Cromwell. Cromwell soothed the ambassador’s ire by assuring him that the king would be distressed by this knowledge. Chapuys then brought his complaint to Anne’s uncle, the wily Duke of Norfolk. Thomas Howard smiled his cold smile, and agreed that his niece was the cause of everyone’s distress and responsible for all the misery now afflicting the court. A rebuke was issued to Anne’s chamberlain, but Katherine’s arms were removed from the barge, and Anne’s were added despite the king’s alleged unhappiness over the matter.
But the real distress over Anne’s now-public union with Henry was among the people. They had loved the princess of Aragon, and did not wish to accept this wanton witch who had cast her spell over their beloved king. In the churches of London, when the time came to pray for King Henry and Queen Anne, many in the congregations walked out. Furious, the king called for the lord mayor of London, and told him in the strongest terms possible that such a thing was not to happen ever again. The guild heads were to be told this, and they were to tell their workers and their apprentices. And they were to admonish their wives as well. Criticism of any sort against Queen Anne would from this moment on be considered a punishable offense.
The streets of London were cleaned and freshly graveled, with special places barricaded off so spectators might watch the procession in safety. And pageants were to be prepared for Anne’s coronation by the various guilds. The lord mayor did as he had been bidden, even ordering the foreign merchants to take part in the festivities and prepare tributes to King Henry’s wife. Most did so reluctantly, but now all was in readiness.
At the Tower the king and the queen and a few chosen guests had gone to the newly redone royal apartments. There had even been a new door made for the entrance into the garden. A feast was to be served. There was the freshest fish brought up from the sea this morning into London. Fat prawns broiled in white wine. Icy oysters. Creamed cod. There were venison and boar. A swan stuffed with a goose stuffed with a duck, stuffed with a small capon that was stuffed with tiny songbirds, roasted and set amid a sauce of dried cherries. There was bread, butter, several kinds of cheeses, and a great charger of the king’s favorite, artichokes. Finally there were cakes soaked in marsala wine, jellies, candied violets, spun-sugar subtleties, and the first strawberries of the season, with freshly clotted Devon cream.
Elizabeth had not been asked to the banquet. She was not important enough, but she waited in the queen’s apartments as she had been asked for Anne to return. When she did Elizabeth found Anne in a foul mood. She pushed away her serving women and shouted at her ladies to leave her be. “Elizabeth will attend me. Go find your beds, you group of gossips. Bride, you are to wait outside,” she instructed her tiring woman. Then she slammed the door behind them. “Bitches!”
“What has distressed you, Anne?” Elizabeth asked her.
“Mistress Seymour,” Anne replied. “Meek, mild, mealymouthed Mistress Jane Seymour! If you had seen her making eyes at my husband, Elizabeth. The little virgin was just asking to be breached by the king. He’s getting restless, Elizabeth. My belly is not a pretty thing, I fear, and his lusts must be satisfied. Why can he not leave me be now, and restrain himself?” Anne flung herself onto her bed.
“Sit up,” Elizabeth said, “and let me loosen your laces and get your shoes off.” She helped Anne to sit, and removed her bodice. Then she undid the tabs of the queen’s skirts, unlaced them, and drew them off. Rolling Anne’s stockings from her slender legs, she shook her head. The queen’s ankles and feet were swollen. She slipped her shoes off.
“You are so good to me,” the queen murmured as Elizabeth laid her slippers and garments aside. “Your very presence soothes me.” Then she brightened. “Was not today a triumph? The weather is so wondrously fair. It is as if God is smiling down on me. How clever of you to put those darling little bells all over your barge.”
“’Twas Philippa’s idea,” Elizabeth said. “She knows how much you appreciate originality and novelty.”
“Indeed,” Anne said. “Are you certain she was not trying to steal my thunder?”
Elizabeth laughed. “Do not be foolish, Anne. No matter her love for the princess of Aragon she would not dare such behavior. Philippa is far too correct in her manner to do so.”
“Do you like your sister?” Anne wanted to know. “I don’t like mine. When we were in France her reputation was vile. She looks like an angel, with that halo of blond hair and her blue eyes, but she was the biggest whore at the court. King Francis called her his English mare, he rode her so often,” Anne said. “Now she is married, and so prim and proper, as if I or anyone else would forget her previous behavior.”
“Family is everything, Anne,” Elizabeth said. “You should try to make peace with the lady Mary now.” She propped several pillows behind the queen, and several more beneath her feet. “Would you like some wine?”
“Water it,” Anne instructed her. “I am very thirsty now.”
The door to the queen’s bedchamber opened, and the king strode in, an eyebrow lifting as he saw Elizabeth. “Good evening, Mistress Hay,” he greeted her.
Elizabeth curtseyed. Then she handed Anne her goblet. “Good evening, sire. Would your majesty like to be alone with the queen?” she queried him.
“Aye,” he said.
“I don’t want Elizabeth to go,” Anne said petulantly.
“Your highness, you place me in a difficult dilemma,” Elizabeth gently chided her friend. “It has been a very long day for you, and you need your rest. If I am to remain by your side tomorrow, so do I. And the king, your husband, would speak with you privily.” She curtseyed politely to the royal couple. “I was taught that it is a wife’s duty to obey her husband. Forgive me, but I must accommodate his majesty wishes.” She curtseyed again, and backed from the bedchamber.
“A wise young woman,” Henry Tudor said, “and one who knows her place.”
“Why do you always scold me these days?” Anne began to sob.
“Now, sweetheart.” The king sat down on the edge of the queen’s bed. “I do not mean to chastise you. Did I not give you a perfect day?”
“Aye.” Anne sniffled. “But the people don’t like me.”
“They will once our son is born. How can they not love the queen who gives them a prince?” the king wanted to know. He laid his hand on Anne’s belly and felt the child stir strongly beneath his touch. He smiled broadly. “Our child will be one of England’s greatest monarchs,” he told her. “I just know it.” Then, leaning over, he kissed her gently. “Elizabeth Hay is right. You need your rest.” He stood up.
“Where are you going?” Anne wanted to know. She was suspicious of him.
“To join my companions and play cards,” he told her.
“Send Mistress Seymour to me,” Anne said. “I shall have her read to me until I fall asleep. And she will sleep on the trundle, so that should I need something in the night she will be here to fetch it for me.” She smiled her little cat’s smile at him.
