The Other Boleyn Girl. Philippa Gregory
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‘You could trust me.’
I tore my eyes from his face and looked away, seeing nothing. ‘I dare not,’ I said again simply.
He reached out and took my hand to his lips and kissed it. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my fingers and, at last, the gentle stroke of the curls of his moustache.
‘Oh, soft.’
He looked up from my hand. ‘Soft?’
‘The touch of your moustache,’ I explained. ‘I have been wondering how it felt.’
‘You have been wondering how my moustache felt?’ he asked.
I could feel my cheeks growing warm. ‘Yes.’
‘If you were kissed by me?’
I dropped my gaze to my feet so that I should not see the brightness of his blue eyes, and gave a little imperceptible nod.
‘You have been wishing to be kissed by me?’
I looked up at that. ‘Your Majesty, I have to go,’ I said desperately. ‘The queen sent me on an errand and she will wonder where I am.’
‘Where did she bid you go?’
‘To your master of horse, to find out what horse you are riding and when you are to ride.’
‘I can tell her that myself. Why should you walk around in the burning sun?’
I shook my head. ‘It’s no trouble to me to go for her.’
He made a little tutting noise. ‘And she has servants enough to run around the jousting green, God knows. She has a full Spanish retinue while I am begrudged my little court.’
Out of the corner of my eye I saw Anne coming through the hangings of the queen’s room and freeze as she saw the king and me close together.
Gently he released me. ‘I shall go to see her now and answer her questions about my horses. What will you do?’
‘I’ll come in a moment,’ I said. ‘I need to take a little moment before I go back in, I feel all …’ I broke off at the impossibility of describing what I was feeling.
He looked at me tenderly. ‘You’re very young to be playing this game, aren’t you? Boleyn or no Boleyn. They’ll be telling you what to do and putting you in my way, I suppose.’
I would have confessed to the family’s plot to ensnare him but for Anne, waiting in the shadows of the jousting tent. With her watching me, I just shook my head. ‘It’s no game to me.’ I looked away, I let my lip tremble. ‘I promise you, it’s no game to me, Your Majesty.’
His hand came up, he took my chin and turned my face towards him. For one breathless moment I thought with dread and with delight that he was going to kiss me, in front of everyone.
‘Are you afraid of me?’
I shook my head and resisted the temptation to turn my face to his hand. ‘I am afraid of what may happen.’
‘Between us?’ He smiled, the confident smile of a man who knows that the woman he desires is only moments away from his arms. ‘Nothing bad will come to you for loving me, Mary. You can have my word on it, if you like. You will be my mistress, you will be my little queen.’
I gasped at that potent word.
‘Give me your scarf, I want to wear your favour while I joust,’ he said suddenly.
I looked around. ‘I can’t give it to you here.’
‘Send it to me,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell George to come to you, give it to him. I won’t wear it so it shows. I’ll tuck it into my breastplate. I’ll wear it against my heart.’
I nodded.
‘So you give me your favour?’
‘If you wish,’ I whispered.
‘I wish it so much,’ he said. He bowed and turned towards the entrance of the queen’s tent. My sister Anne had disappeared like a helpful ghost.
I gave them all a few minutes and then I went back into the tent myself. The queen gave me a sharp interrogatory look. I sank into a curtsey. ‘I saw the king coming to answer your questions himself, Your Majesty,’ I said sweetly. ‘So I came back.’
‘You should have sent a servant in the first place,’ the king said abruptly. ‘Mistress Carey should not be running round the jousting ground in this sun. It’s far too hot.’
The queen hesitated for only a moment. ‘I am so sorry,’ she said. ‘It was thoughtless of me.’
‘It’s not me you should apologise to,’ he said pointedly.
I thought she would balk at that, and from the tension in Anne’s body at my side I knew that she too was waiting to see what a Princess of Spain and a Queen of England would do next.
‘I am sorry if I inconvenienced you, Mistress Carey,’ the queen said levelly.
I felt no triumph at all. I looked across the richly carpeted tent at a woman old enough to be my mother and felt nothing but pity for the pain I would cause her. For a moment I did not even see the king, I saw only the two of us, bound to be each other’s grief.
‘It is a pleasure to serve you, Queen Katherine,’ I said, and I meant it.
For a moment she looked at me as if she understood some of what was in my mind and then she turned to her husband. ‘And are your horses fit for today?’ she asked. ‘Are you confident, Your Majesty?’
‘It’s me or Suffolk today,’ he said.
‘You will be careful, sire?’ she said softly. ‘There’s no harm in losing to a rider like the duke; and it would be the end of the kingdom if anything happened to you.’
It was a loving thought, but he took it with no grace at all. ‘It would be indeed, since we have no son.’
She flinched and I saw the colour go from her face. ‘There is time,’ she said, her voice so quiet that I could hardly hear it. ‘There is still time …’
‘Not much,’ he said flatly. He turned away from her. ‘I must go and get ready.’
He went past me without a glance, though Anne and I and all the other ladies sank down into a curtsey as he passed by. When I rose up the queen was looking towards me, not as if I were a rival, but as if I were still her favourite little maid in waiting who might bring her some comfort. She looked at me as if for a moment she would seek someone who would understand the dreadful predicament of a woman, in this world ruled by men.
George strolled into the room and kneeled before the queen with his easy grace. ‘Your Majesty,’ he said. ‘I have come to visit the fairest lady in Kent, in England and the world.’
‘Oh George Boleyn, rise up,’ she said, smiling.
‘I would rather die at your feet,’ he offered.
She gave him a little tap on the hand with her fan. ‘No, but you can give me odds for the king’s joust if you want.’
‘Who would bet against him? He is the finest of horsemen. I will give you a wager of five to two against the second joust. Seymours against Howards. There’s no doubt in my mind of the winner.’
‘You would offer me a bet on the Seymours?’ the queen asked.
‘Have them carry your blessing? Never,’ George said quickly. ‘I would have you bet on my cousin Howard, Your Majesty. Then you can be sure of winning, you can be sure of betting on one of the finest and most loyal families in the country, and you can have tremendous odds as well.’
She laughed at that. ‘You are an exquisite courtier indeed. How much do you want to lose to me?’
‘Shall we say five crowns?’ George asked.