Young Adult / The Tudor Witness [Book Two, Part One]
The Year 1529
Autumn
“Come here,” Meg motioned to me from the queen’s door.
I stood up in front of the hearth and straightened out my dress. The queen, as usual, was sitting by her window, looking out longingly upon the countryside.
The hallway was dimly lit for midday, but I could see the worry in Meg’s eyes.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Walk with me,” she whispered.
We walked along the hallway, making sure we passed no one. No one knew when spies could be around; many had found that out the hard way. We walked towards the kitchen and she talked quickly and quietly.
“The delegates, as you know, have been discussing in London about the matter of the king’s marriage. I’m glad to tell you nothing has come of it. Nothing at all. But the king is more determined to have Anne as his wife now. One other thing-Wolsey has been dismissed. Surely most of court knows by now but Anne has told me to keep it secret,” Meg explained.
All of us had been expecting it, what with the way the Boleyn’s had greatly considered Wolsey as their traitor.
“Since when do you talk to Anne?” I whispered as we turned the corner.
“I’ve been for awhile now,” she answered.
I raised my eyebrows. “You never liked Anne.”
She shrugged her shoulders. “She can be good company at times.”
I rolled my eyes. Meg was always changing her perceptions of things.
“How are things with Tom?” I asked.
She smiled. “Quite good,” she giggled.
I let out a deep breath. I’d been suspecting for awhile now that he would ask her to be his betrothed, but so far that had not come. I didn’t want that to happen…not just yet. Meg was young, just 14. She had years to wait until she married.
“There anything else I should know?” I asked.
“Anne still has her virtue,” she sighed. “It would be so much better if she was not so stubborn. It would be over by now.”
“Well, personally, I think she’s a crafty girl for keeping it. Things like that are regrettable!” I cried.
Meg turned away from me as we walked down the hall. What was that for?
“Meg?” I mumbled, but at that moment my brother came up to us.
“Hello, girls,” he said cheerfully, a smile on his face.
“Afternoon, William,” Meg and I said at once.
“Did you hear about Anne?” he asked.
“Which one is this, the one about the discussion of the marriage or of her still keeping her virtue?” I asked.
“No, it’s said that she wants Wolsey’s head rolling from the Tower,” he declared and left us, our mouth’s hanging open.
So there I was, Elizabeth Rushford, starting my fifth year at court as the Queen of England’s lady-in-waiting. I hadn’t always been so high in court. In fact my brother and I had been accepted to court by chance when our parents had died of the sweats and we had gone to London. After stealing a piece of bread and being caught, the court had taken us in. My brother had become a page, and now he was a courtier.
“Well that was quite obvious. He’s run up north, trying to hide, and most of his titles are gone. He’s gone from the king’s head advisor to not even a noble,” Meg explained.
William shrugged. “I actually agree with Anne on this.”
“Wolsey is a scary man,” I agreed.
The door to the Great Hall opened and we walked inside, instantly hearing the minstrels playing and wrapping ourselves up in court intrigue.
Goodness, how I loved court. The court of King Henry VIII was full of music, dancing, and sins easily pardoned by the rules of the day.
Tom came up, his countenance happy. He immediately kissed Meg on the mouth and took her hand, leading her down for a dance.
William sighed and looked at me. “You think you can get her to dance with me once?”
“Well, if you do I’m sure Tom will have to hurt you then,” I declared, looking at Meg and Tom dancing together, their steps graceful.
“Dance with me then,” William suggested.
I sighed heavily, not wanting people seeing me so desperate as to dance with my own brother. My brother had no one to dance with though, so I’d dance with him just once. I hadn’t been dancing in awhile.
Anne was dancing with the king, and I knew the queen wouldn’t even come out to court. She never did anymore, not wanting to face the truth that her marriage was falling apart once more.
I decided to talk to Anne that night, see how things were going since we last talked.
I easily spotted her, her waist-long black hair fluttering gracefully as she danced, her tall, slim figure standing out from the crowd of fair-haired, short women.
Court sin was clearly showing in Anne’s face and the king’s as well.
And that was life. The king wanted a son, he wanted Anne, and he wanted a new queen. And so now there was a battle-to get Anne and rid of the queen.
That night I was in Anne’s room along with Meg, sipping on spiced tea by the window.
It was early autumn, and the leaves on the trees were just beginning to change.
“What’s been going on, Anne?” Meg asked.
Anne smiled slightly, adjusting the headdress atop her head. “I’m just waiting to be the queen,” she explained. “I need more maids,” she glared at me and Meg knowingly.
She had already taken Jane Boleyn and the Seymour’s from the queen, why take anyone else.
“Anne, I’m sorry. We’ve told you, we’re with the queen until the end,” I explained.
Meg looked off again, and then declared suddenly, “I’ve decided to be your maid Anne.”
What!? Meg was the one that had despised Anne, wanted nothing to do with her. She was the one that would stay with me, and with the queen, till the end. My mouth hung open, yet Anne did not seem so surprised.
“What caused the change of heart?” Anne asked curiously while I still could not believe what I had heard.
“I have something to confess,” she turned back to us, a fire in her eyes. “I have…I have committed sin.”
Anne laughed slightly, as did I, wondering what such an innocent girl as Meg was talking about.
“I’ve lost my virtue to a man,” she muttered.
“Meg, what are you talking about?” I giggled. Meg did like to fool, but was she really fooling about this.
Anne’s eyes were suddenly dark and worried. “Elizabeth, I would like you to leave. I must talk to Meg now.”
I shook my head. “I’m old enough to hear what you’ve got to say.”
“No, Elizabeth, you’re still a little girl!” Anne exclaimed. “Some things even you cannot know!”
I ran for the door, wondering why Anne was so harsh with me all of a sudden. Anne was always frank with me, she told me anything outright, and I was not too young to understand.
But I wondered as I ran through the halls how Meg could have done such a thing. Of course she hadn’t said she was with child, but I also wondered how Tom could do such a thing when they were not even married.
I was nearly crying as I tripped while running through the halls, landing in someone’s arms.
“Tom!” I cried and threw my arms around him. “I…I wanted to talk to you.”
He seemed not to hear me as I spoke to him. “Where is Meg?”
“She is with Anne, why?” I asked, and he sped off down the hall.
I made it to my own room and sat on my bed, my pen in my lap.
Dear Princess Mary,
Seems long since you were here at court, but I am sure you will be back for Yuletide, and I will be happy to see you again.
Today was right peculiar indeed. I know not what to make of it, really. First Meg tells me that nothing has come of the meeting in London to nullify your mother’s marriage, and then she tells me she is now friend of the queen. Just moments ago she told Anne she would be her maid, a shock to say the least, and now she is saying that Tom stole her virtue, yet I was so in shook I was not even sure if she actually said his name.
Well, maybe things will be further explained tomorrow. For now I’ll try to sleep it off and put things together.
I can’t believe that soon I will be twelve, and you will be fifteen. I couldn’t imagine being your age, seems so far off, yet it’s only three years away.
I hope things may make sense in the morning. Until next time.
Your Faithful Servant
Elizabeth Rushford
At around midnight, as I was sleeping, I suddenly awoke at the sound of soft weeping.
I lit one small candle to see just slightly Meg lying beside me, her body shaking and her face not visible to me, but I knew she was crying.
“Meg,” I called and touched my hand to her soft blonde hair.
“Oh, Elizabeth, how stupid I am!” she cried, turning to me, her eyes red from crying for so long.
“It’s okay Meg,” I said suddenly. “You love Tom and if you are to seal the deal then do it that way.”
She started wailing more at that.
I knew what that meant, and in fact, I was surprisingly calm. Meg was like a magnet for men, the blonde Anne of the English court at a ripe age of 14 years. But still, Tom loved her more than anything, and wasn’t it a year now that he had courted her. Surely now she loved him more than anything herself.
“I can trust in you, Elizabeth, with anything at all. I will tell you this, and you mustn’t tell anyone. Okay?” she asked.
I nodded and looked into her glistening blue-gray eyes.
“For awhile now I’ve had Tom as my own. I do love him, so much, and that is why he must not be told. In spring I met someone…this wonderful boy, a French boy,” her eyes lit up. “His name was François, and oh how comely he was. He had come to court with his brother to look for some work, for his family had moved here from France for here it was less money to live.
“He came to court only a few times, and I meet him then, and he was just there at the gates, looking for a job. I happened to be passing by, and he called to me with an accent three times as strong as Anne’s, and then our eyes locked. Oh Elizabeth, if you have ever heard of love at first sight then I knew it was this.
“I came back every day to the gates at Hampton Court, hoping to see him. And he came back every day to see me. One day, when you were gone, I had him come into court with me. From then on every second that you were not around and I knew I would not get caught I spent with him in our room.
“I knew it was wrong, I was a respectable girl and I had Tom. I knew it was terrible and I knew I would regret things later, but his lovely accent and his comely green eyes bewitched me.
“Then one day things changed. He told me that his father had found better living up in the north, up in Scotland. He told me he was to leave, yet neither one of us wanted to say goodbye. He told me that it was our last time together. You were gone with Anne that night, and things worked out. Oh Elizabeth, that was the most wonderful night of my life. Things just…came naturally. I’d never felt that much love for one person. But how I hated and regretted myself for it later, I could not tell you how terrible it was. I cannot let Tom know,” she finally added and was done.
I was not sure what to do or what to say. Occurrences like this were few, and being young and unknowing about love, I did not really fully understand how Meg suffered with what she had done.
“You must tell Tom,” I finally said.
“Elizabeth, I cannot!” I cried. “Don’t you understand? I won’t have a future, I won’t have a life if I do not marry him!”
“But you will be lying to him! And if you really don’t love him and you’d rather be off with other men then why do you even bother to continue pretending to love him?” I cried, tears suddenly streaming down my face. “Meg, I know that he loves you more than anything in this world and you just go off with another man because his accent is French?!”
“No, Elizabeth, you don’t understand! Maybe you will when you are older but you just don’t get it,” she pleaded.
“I just really hope you aren’t with child. Then I will surely tell Tom it is not his,” I spat and turned on my side, pulling the covers and a pillow over my head to drain out Meg’s crying.
Was keeping a horrible lie from Tom worth it all?
I was out riding the next day while Meg was with Anne. I could not believe she had actually gone and become Anne’s maid. Queen Catherine did not seem to care much about it, though. She still had me, and three others-Alice, Joan, and Bess. Yet I could tell all of this was taking a toll on her.
As I was riding along the path, the wind rustling up my dress a bit, I spotted Tom riding ahead of me. Oh I did not want to talk to him, not then and there. I didn’t know what to say.
“Hello, Elizabeth,” he called to me, his light brown hair gently waving in the breeze.
“Good morning, Tom,” I called back when he was closer.
“Mind if I ride with you?” he asked.
I shook my head, though I really did mind. I had not decided yet what I would say to him.
“I haven’t seen you in awhile,” he declared as the wind picked up a bit.
I nodded and looked off to the hills to our right.
“You look worried about something,” Tom said.
I turned back to look at him. “Oh…no, I’m not. I’m fine.”
“Come on, there must be something.”
“Nothing.”
“So you are not going to tell me that Meg has become Anne’s maid? I thought you would search for me and be the first to tell me,” he added with a laugh at the end.
I felt my face get hot. “No, I just thought you would know, so I did not tell you.”
“Did you then?” he laughed. “Makes me wonder if there is something else that you are not telling me.”
My body stiffened and I tried not to hesitate, or he would surely think I was keeping something from him. “Come on, Tom, I tell you everything.”
“Well whenever you need to tell me something important then go ahead and I will listen,” he nodded and looked at me with those green-blue eyes, reminding me of his sister Hannah.
Hannah had been my greatest friend. She had come to court when Tom’s father had by luck become an Earl. She was exactly my age, and we were like sisters. Then, more than a year ago, the sweating sickness overtook London. The queen had told me, my brother, Tom, and Hannah to escape to Ludlow and live with Princess Mary until the sickness had passed. Hannah had chosen to stay though, and the she succumbed to the sickness. ‘Twas the second time I’d never gotten to say goodbye to someone I loved. The first had been my mother, also dead of the sweats almost five years past.
Tom seemed to read my mind. “You thinking about Hannah?” he asked.
I nodded. “I wish we were at Windsor.” That was where she had died and been buried near the ancient chapel in the courtyard. I liked to go there and just lie on the grass and think about her.
“My father says the king wants to go to Windsor for Yuletide, but he was also suggesting we go to York Place.”
“Isn’t that Cardinal Wolsey’s manor?” I had seen the place a few times when we traveled down the Thames. It was a small palace, but the king had it now that Wolsey was gone and he might have wanted to expand.
“The king is already building a grand banqueting hall there, and he wants to rename it,” Tom explained.
“But there are so many court places. Hampton Court, Windsor, Westminster, Greenwich, and Eltham-surely he doesn’t need any more.”
“He is the king, he can do as he likes.”
“Well we know that,” I sighed, thinking of Anne.
“Yes, Elizabeth, we all know of your little plan that Anne should follow. Bed the king and be done with it. Yet Anne is stubborn, and otherwise, why would she listen to an eleven year old?”
I glared at him. Why did people have to put me down for my age? “Do I act that young to you?”
“That does not matter Elizabeth. People only care about your stature. And right now you look like an eleven year old, no matter how sharp your mind is.”
“I can’t wait to be older,” I sighed.
“Yes, then you might have a dance partner. Seems forever since you were out dancing with someone other than your brother,” he joked.
It wasn’t funny though. I missed the days when I danced with Tom and Hannah danced with my brother. Now it seemed everything had changed with Meg around. I couldn’t believe that not too long ago, when Hannah was alive, I was to be betrothed to Tom and Hannah to my brother. But all that dissolved when Hannah died and Tom and William became courtiers.
“I miss Hannah,” I said suddenly.
“To tell you the truth I still mourn for her. Such a great friend she was to you. Now you’ve really got just Anne, and Meg, and me, and your brother. Yet the next youngest of the group is Meg, and she is still three years older than you. My mother still does mourn too, and she spends most of her time in the chapel praying with the queen. Such devout Catholics they are.
“They must understand each other’s pain though. Queen Catherine lost what, five children? When I see my mother grieve I think that the queen’s pain must be unbearable.”
We rode along, watching the sun rising higher into the sky and the gold leaves falling gently from the trees.
“Tom, if someone you love did something they regret would you want them to tell you?” I hesitated.
He stopped his horse. “Why, who did something?”
“Oh, no one. It’s concerning me…and someone I know,” I muttered.
“Well I’d say that the person should be honest with the one they love. That way they won’t find out from someone else first. If the two love each other equally then the person that has done wrong will be easily forgiven,” he answered.
I nodded. So I would not tell him, not ever. It was Meg’s decision to tell him, if she ever wanted to.
Meg sat next to me at dinner that night.
“You did not tell him, did you?” she exclaimed, looking at Tom, who sat across from us.
“No, of course not,” I muttered and took a sip of the watered-down wine in my goblet.
“And you won’t tell him ever, will you?” she asked, her eyes looking worried.
“It’s your decision if you ever want to tell him.”
She nodded and turned her head to lock eyes with Tom again. I hoped I would not regret not telling him.
The queen was not in court that night again, and the king sat alone at the high table, smiling slyly down at Anne. Right then I wanted Hannah. And wanted someone my age who understood, and who I could confide to in everything.
“Excuse me,” I muttered and left the table.
I left the Great Hall and skipped off to the chapel, where I was sure the queen was. She was there kneeling on the cold stone floor, her hands in a prayerful attitude. I could hear her muttering her prayers in Spanish. Awhile back she had promised me she would teach me Spanish, but so far she had not. All I knew was a bit of French.
I silently kneeled next to her. I wasn’t sure if she ever noticed I was there. She continued her prayers and did not turn to me even as my mouth began to move and mutter out the few prayers I had memorized.
I wasn’t the best at praying, but sometimes I liked asking God for some specific things. Before my mother had died she had told me things only improved when you prayed to God and asked him to make it better.
“Dear God, please look over me and my friends and keep them in good health. Please allow the king to allow Mary to come at Yuletide this year, for I fell so lonely here. Please give me a sign as to whether it is right or not to tell Tom of Meg’s wrongdoings. I really don’t know how I can keep such a thing from him so long. Lord, can you help Meg to tell him. I know she does not want to but things might be better if she does. “Also look after the health of Queen Catherine, for she is like a mother to me. Keep her queen, it is her right, and allow Anne a small penance to become like she was when I first came to court. Allow me to take the right path and say the right things to her, for both Anne and the queen are my friends, and I wish to hurt neither.
“Please tell my mother and father that I love them and I miss them. Also look after Hannah. I hope she is not lonely up in Heaven, but I am mighty sure that there are some other little girls to play with. Just please make sure she does not forget me, for I shall never forget her.”
Only then did I realize that the queen’s arms were around me. She was sobbing softly.
“Oh, Your Majesty, what is wrong?” I asked.
“You are such a precious child, my dear. You have such a strong heart for so little a girl. Of that you should be proud. Only few can talk to God as if he were a friend like you do,” she smiled slightly as she wiped the few tears from her wrinkled cheeks. “So much life ahead of you. Do not waste it away, dear.”
“I promise I won’t,” I smiled and embraced her.
“So here we are, no closer to you being queen than three years ago,” Meg sighed.
“Honestly, do you think it will ever come?” maybe I was just a little bold in saying it, but well, Anne was bold enough with me.
“Well I will find a way to make it happen,” Anne declared. “No one shuns the Boleyn’s, we get what we want.”
Anne never seemed to be thankful for what she had anymore. She had a title; she had the king’s love. If any other girl were in her position surely they would be too thankful to even think straight. But Anne wanted more; she needed more than she had. Maybe someday she would understand how wrong she was. And she never thanked God for what she had. But she had never been very religious.
“So what is happening with Wolsey these days?” I asked.
“I could care less where the bastard is hiding,” Anne spat. “He’s probably up near Ipswich or somewhere around there. But when he is found he will lose his head!”
“Anne, don’t you think that he can be pardoned?” Meg asked.
Anne’s eyes were aflame. “He is treasonous towards my family!”
Meg and I did not say a word, but Anne stormed from her room and into the bedchamber.
“Why did you even become her maid?” I muttered.
“Eventually we will all have to,” Meg sighed. “I decided I’d get to know her better, make my experience here more pleasant.”
“I really miss you, you know. The queen only has three left,” I reminded. “Why can’t you just come back until the queen is forced to leave court?”
Meg shrugged. “I guess I like it here.”
I turned around on the chaise to look at the Seymour girls and Jane Boleyn silently sewing by the fire. They looked up at me with sad eyes and I went to join them.
“I miss the queen, tell her I wish her good health,” Jane Seymour asked of me.
“I will do that,” I nodded.
“Things are changing. They aren’t the same as they used to be,” Elizabeth Seymour mumbled.
“Elizabeth, things have been changing for years. Why don’t you come down to Earth and see what happens when you look around,” Jane declared, slapping her sister.
“No, I know what she means,” Jane Boleyn whispered. “We are dealing with an overly powerful family; the most powerful family in England is vying for their daughter to be the Queen of England. People respect the Boleyn’s and others who do not will die at the axe.”
That night Anne asked me to stay with her and sleep in her bed like we had done years ago.
“Seems awhile since we talked alone,” Anne smiled, the candlelight falling gently against her beautiful face.
I nodded.
“I want you to know that things will not change after all this has happened,” Anne explained.
“Anne, do you really think I will believe that?” I sighed.
“You can believe what you like, but when the king is mine and I am queen, Mary will still have her title if the king wants her to have it.”
“Anne, you and I both know that things will not be the same. I mean, if the king cannot get a dispensation from the Pope then however will you marry him?”
“I am a crafty girl, you should know,” she smiled slightly.
“Crafty and wise and smart and perfect,” I added.
“Come on now, Elizabeth,” she giggled. “Must you always tease?”
“I don’t tease, I speak the truth.”
“You’ve got to stop being so serious. Live life like a little girl. I surely would if I were your age. Be serious when you are older.”
“In times like these, Anne, I think it best to act older than I should.”
“Oh, Elizabeth,” she wrapped her arms around me. “With me as your friend you need not worry about one little thing. I want you to be a little girl for once in awhile.”
“Anne I don’t want to be a little girl!” I pushed her away. “I already cannot take it that I have no one my age to turn to. I barely have anyone to turn to, what with all this romance that I’m not supposed to know about.”
Anne lay on her stomach and looked out the window at the head of her bed. “And maybe sometimes I wish I never was the king’s love.”
“Anne, you’ve got everything going for you. You do love him!” I exclaimed.
“Did you ever think that maybe I wanted to love who I wanted? Elizabeth, I’ve told you about the letters haven’t I?”
“The ones from the king?”
She nodded her head. “You know I only ever got to read one of them. My family took all of them from my grasp. I never knew long ago how much the king did love me. The one they let me see was concerning my sister! He asked if I still talked to her, Elizabeth! My family wanted me to think that the king still wanted my sister, and not me. What kind of family is that? I loved the king, and I thought he had loved me. Maybe if they would have showed me those other letters, those ones of love, then I would have been the king’s mistress and be done with it!”
“You…you didn’t know the king loved you?”
“In the beginning he sent me gifts. Jewels, charms, gems and the like. I sent them back, telling him his affections were flattering, yet I told him he had a wife, and to point his affections toward her. He loved me so much Elizabeth. I read those letters later when I had my high place at court. He told me he would die to have me in his arms, that it hurt him when I did not come to see him. How could a man like him love such a girl as me?” she cried, tears rolling down her cheeks. “If you haven’t noticed, I am not a beautiful woman when it comes to this country!”
I held her close as she continued to cry.
“Every morning I wake up and wonder if this is worth it all, and every night I go to sleep hoping the king will love me more the next day,” she sobbed. Her words shot to my heart.
“I could never be you,” I whispered.
She looked up at me sadly. “And I never thought I could be as powerful as my sister. Things change faster than you can even take them in.”
There was a knock at the door. Anne jumped and wiped the tears from my eyes.
“Do I look okay?” she whispered.
I nodded quickly.
“Good, now hide in the corner, close your eyes, and cover your ears,” Anne instructed in a demanding voice and I ran to the corner behind one of Anne’s numerous pieces of furniture.
I could easily hide myself, being small, yet I did not know why I had to hide.
“Anne, it’s me,” I heard a familiar voice call from behind the door.
I saw Anne pull down her chemise and run her fingers quickly through her hair. She opened the door and dropped down into a short curtsy.
“Your Highness,” she mumbled, and I tried not to gasp as the king quickly shuffled in, closed the door, and threw his arms around her.
“I’ve missed you already,” the king smiled and laid a kiss upon her lips.
I closed my eyes instantly, hoping not to see something that would forever scar me, yet my curiosity only let them stay shut for but a few seconds.
“Say my name, Anne,” the king whispered, loosening Anne’s chemise just a bit and kissing her again.
“Henry…” Anne muttered with passion and started kissing him vigorously.
I wanted to go out right then and stop Anne. Even Anne, called a prostitute to her face everyday, could not simply give herself up like that.
“Say it again,” he demanded, kissing her neck.
“Henry VIII, King of England,” she smiled.
The king smiled slightly. “Anne Boleyn, Queen of England. Sounds beautiful.”
Anne started to giggle and then kissed him full on the mouth again as they fell on the bed.
I closed my eyes and pulled my head down, trying to stop the tears and trying to find comfort in my little corner. Maybe it was all for the best, though. The king did need a son, but how far would he go for one?
After what seemed an eternity, I heard Anne whisper, “You should go now.”
“It will be long before I am in your arms again.”
“Oh, Henry, you can have me all you want when I am your queen,” I could practically see the sly smile on her face.
They kissed again, but softly, and he finally left. I let out a few deep breaths until Anne told me I could come out.
I was crying hysterically now. I wanted to be older, to be treated like an adult, but I was not ready for such things at that. Maybe I would try to be a child for just a bit more. Growing up was something I did not want to do, not just yet.
Anne instantly ran to me and threw her arms around my wailing body.
“Don’t want to grow up now do you?” Anne seemed to read my mind.
I shook my head and buried my face into her nightgown. It smelled like the king.
Meg and I walked along the path with the queen and her other maids on our way to the jousting field. Thought it was the middle of autumn, it was unusually warm, and the king had called for a joust.
The dry grass crunched under my feet, hungering for some rain, which we hadn’t seen in days.
“So you’re saying you saw the king and Anne together?” Meg whispered as we walked along with the queen’s entourage.
I nodded slowly. “Why aren’t you with Anne anyway?”
She shrugged. “Maybe I wanted to walk with you. Why must you always ask so many questions?”
“I’ve always been a curious girl,” I answered as we climbed up into the seats, sitting next to Anne.
A little area next to us was where the king and queen sat, looking down upon the jousting field. Anne was too busy to talk, she was staring at the king, who was shooting her quick glances and smiling curiously.
Behind us sat the king’s sister, Mary, who had been Queen of France briefly when she was younger. She then married Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, who was the king’s best friend. Beside her sat two little girls. I took them to be her children, but yet I hadn’t ever seen them before. They wore beautiful ermine and red dresses, each matching, and their hair was red-brown like their mother’s. They smiled at me slightly and the one motioned to me to sit next to her, the one with the big blue eyes.
Mary was with Tom and Anne was too intent on watching the king, so I agreed and went to sit next to the girls.
“You are Lady Elizabeth Rushford?” the one with the blue eyes asked.
I nodded and smiled. “I have never seen the two of you before. Have you been to court often?”
The one with the gray eyes began to giggle. “We are under the supervision of our aunt now. I guess we will be at court now then we usually are.”
“We have heard about you,” the one said. Her hair was much curlier than her sisters, and she seemed older. “I’m Frances.”
“And I’m Eleanor!” the other squealed.
“People think it is hard to tell us apart, but really I don’t think it is. She is ten and I am twelve,” Frances explained. “My hair is darker, hers is redder. And I have blue eyes.”
“We have heard from the queen that you have never had lessons. Would you like to join us in our lessons? Our uncle, the king, has the best tutors for us. We were recently with the Princess Mary as well, and she couldn’t stop talking about you!” Eleanor explained.
“Really? She misses me then?” I asked, for she hadn’t written a letter to me in weeks.
“Oh of course! She wondered if you still thought about her though, says she hasn’t gotten a letter from you in a long while,” Frances sighed.
“That’s odd…I write to her nearly everyday,” I mumbled.
“Well you know how it is with all the spies and mail interception,” Frances added.
I nodded slowly, remembering all the secretive things I had put in those letters, things about Anne and about the court. I’d have to be mighty careful what I put in my letters.
“So would you like to join us, I’m sure the queen won’t mind. Frances, you ask the queen and I will ask mother,” Eleanor added and each reached over to ask.
A few moments later each turned back and smiled. “Okay, today it is!”
I looked to their mother, who was a beautiful woman. She resembled her brother. She smiled at me and then turned back to the joust, which included her husband.
Just then I heard the cries of, “Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, against peasant!”
The flag went down and the two horses raced toward each other with shouts of joy from the crowd. The court liked it when they knew a peasant was about to get smashed to the ground. It was easy to pick out which one was the duke and which one was the peasant based on armor-also based on the cries and pointing from Frances and Eleanor.
“Father is the best at jousting!” Eleanor giggled. The sun fell upon her hair just right, turning her hair golden red.
The peasant, to no surprise, was knocked down to the ground and joyous cries went up around the arena. A few people went up to the peasant, who was unmoving upon the ground.
Frances sat back down with a gasp while everyone else was still cheering.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“He’s not moving,” she threw her hands over her mouth and added, “I think he is dead.”
The queen ran from her little pavilion down to the ground when the cries died down and people began to realize what was happening. Lady Brandon, taking the queen’s lead, ran ahead as well to see the peasant.
A few moments later Suffolk came over and his wife fell into his arms. The queen turned back to the court with a horrible expression on her face. A peasant had died.
So common it was, yet it all fell heavy on our hearts. They picked up the dead, bleeding body and wrapped him up in a sheet. I couldn’t imagine how horrible it would be for his family when they were told he had died for the enjoyment of others. So young he looked, too. The blood was pushed around in the sand so that no one could see and then the king stood up.
“Unfortunate things happen when people least expect. Let us pray that God will take in a soul as what died today out on the field,” the king bowed his head and placed him hands in a prayerful attitude.
Usually Cardinal Wolsey led the praying, but with him gone we kept the prayers inside our head.
“Prayer is what fixes everything,” Frances whispered.
I nodded.
“The king was named Defender of the Faith by the Pope himself, you know, before all of this Anne Boleyn stuff came about. Now the Pope is practically held captive in the Holy Roman Emperor’s court,” she explained.
“And he’s not anymore?” I asked.
“He won’t be if he still pursues Anne and marries her against the church rule. He will be excommunicated surely,” Eleanor explained as we were supposed to pray.
“Exe…what?” I had no clue what she was talking about.
“Excommunicated. You will learn when we have lessons,” Frances mumbled and went back to her prayers.
Even the king’s sister and his own best friend did not approve of Anne. When would the king overcome this spell and realize that the one he loved had always been there for him? No one wanted Anne as queen.
I was happy that my search for learning had ended and I could finally learn what I ought to know. I couldn’t wait to have lessons with the Brandon’s.
As the girls and I walked back to the castle, we went over things.
“Elizabeth, being so young, you will need to dedicate many hours to lessons,” the queen explained. “But ‘tis good that you will finally learn what I cannot teach you. I think it best that you only be my maid when I am in dire need. Instead, after lessons come to church and pray with me. That way you will still be acknowledged as my lady-in-waiting.”
“I won’t ever get to see you!” Meg whined, grasping my hand, Tom right behind her.
“I barely see you anyway now that you are with Anne,” I reminded.
Frances pulled me over just a bit. “Your friend is Anne’s maid?”
I nodded, not knowing if it was such a good idea to answer. “I was Anne’s friend for five years as well, and I cannot simply just hate her as most of the court readily does.”
I looked over at Anne’s entourage, which consisted of her disgusted maids, her brother, a few more relatives, and many other men and women dressed in French fashions, trying to copy Anne as much as they could.
“Oh,” Frances mumbled and went to walk nearer to her sister.
“So, lessons in the morning, prayer with the queen, and then I will have time to go out in court and spend time with you,” I turned to Meg and Tom.
“You won’t have time to ride then!” Tom cried.
“Actually, she will. A French horseman comes up from the continent every summer to teach us better riding techniques,” Frances explained.
“I cannot wait until we start lessons!” Eleanor cried. “In the morning we have French, and then we have history, geography, writing, and sciences. Then we have etiquette and Latin later, after dinner,” Eleanor told me the whole schedule.
A whole other entourage came forward, including the king. A new man was by the king’s side as they walked over to Anne’s group.
“I’ve seen that man before, who is he?” I asked.
Meg shot in. “That is Thomas More, replaced Wolsey as Lord Chancellor and advisor to the king. He opposes the king’s plan to marry Anne, but he tries to hide it for the safety of his family.”
Tom rolled his eyes. “I am the one that told her.”
I sighed and turned away. I missed the days when Tom would run to my room and tell me all the latest gossip. Now all he wanted when he came to my room was Meg. I wouldn’t see him at all now that I would have lessons.
“Lessons tomorrow!” Eleanor called as we split up at the palace door, each going in different directions.
“We will come and get you in the morning,” Frances added.
“I’ll be ready!” I called, smiling. Maybe I would finally learn some valuable things.
That night Anne called me to her room again.
“I’m going to ask you again,” she smiled.
“No, Anne, I cannot be your maid,” I replied.
“Oh, but Elizabeth it will be so much better here with me than that old cow,” she giggled.
I didn’t even pay attention to Anne’s terrible jokes anymore. It was not worth fighting back at them.
“You know how you never allow the king to bed you? ‘Tis quite the same with this, you know. I cannot be your maid, and you will not bed the king,” I felt my lips curve up in a smile as Anne rolled her eyes at me.
“That is the farthest thing from being the same, Elizabeth.”
We sat in silence for a bit, listening to the crackling of the fire.
“He loved me far longer than I ever thought,” Anne suddenly whispered. “Sent me things as far back as six years ago, before I even knew he loved me, when he had my sister in his grasp. I never knew. My father never told me. In his letters he told me he loved me, long before I ever even knew it. Sent me tokens and such so far back. He asked me to be his formal mistress right after my sister was banished! You must understand that I can only give myself to the man I marry, for I have seen what it has all done to my sister.”
“I do understand, Anne,” I said.
Anne was smiling slightly. “No, no one does. I do not deserve this, not one single bit of it.”
“Send them all back,” she added in a mumble.
“What?”
“Tell all my maids to leave, go back where they came from. ‘Tis not worth it. The queen is the rightful queen and I am nothing but Marquess of Pembroke. Tell them to leave,” she sobbed and did not look up at me.
Even though it was such a hard thing to do, I got up and told all of the maids out in the room to leave. I told the Seymour’s and Jane Boleyn and Meg to all go back to the queen, and then maybe Anne would call them back if the time did come that she needed him.
Her brother was in her parlor as well. “She’s told you to say this, then?” he asked me.
I nodded, looking upon his downcast face.
He shook his head slowly and turned to leave.
I returned to Anne’s room then, where she lie down peacefully upon her bed. “I do not deserve any of it,” she muttered to herself. “His Majesty does not deserve someone like me.”
I wanted to be honest with her. “Anne, I could never be you.”
“Seems I cannot even be me,” she laughed, and wrapped her arms around me. “The king tearing apart the queen just to have me. I wish I could stop it, but I cannot. There is no way but just to go along with it.”
I buried my face in her neck, trying to wonder just how she could bear with this.
Near the end of November Wolsey was to be brought to London for his trial and his execution. On the way down though, on the way to his execution, so fearful he was that he died before he could be tried. Now Wolsey was gone and the Boleyn’s could breathe easier.
Now all they needed was their daughter on the throne and they would forever have their place in history.
Winter
In the beginning of winter the court had decided to move to the new palace, Whitehall. It had been before called York Place, and it was where Wolsey had lived. Now that Wolsey was dead and the king had obtained it, he had decided to make it the official residence of court.
But in the end, it was decided that we would move to Westminster, as Whitehall was being renovated and added onto.
Anne had gone back to smaller apartments, she had even asked the king for them, and I had gone to living with Meg again in the queen’s apartments.
I had also started my lessons with the Brandon girls.
“You know nothing, Elizabeth!” Eleanor giggled when the French tutor came in and became speaking in full French.
Their mother was with us for that first time to help me get used to everything. She motioned the tutor towards her and I could hear the words she said.
“She has not learned any French, yet. Maybe you could just work with her for the day…”
“Oh, non, non, non!” the tutor cried. “Bring her back to me when she knows more.”
Their red-haired mother pulled me away. “Elizabeth, you will join them for history next, okay? For now you may go sew or read,” she explained.
I nodded and went to my corner, sighing. I had learned some basic French back at Ludlow with Mary, yet I barely remembered any of it.
I looked out the window of Eleanor and Frances’ room. The king was out hunting for a bit that morning while the weather was still fine.
I couldn’t believe that Mary would not be coming for Yuletide that year. The king just wanted to break away from his wife for good, it seemed.
I had talked to Anne as we rode to the new palace, and her spirits were downcast. She’d told me that maybe it wasn’t worth it all, making Henry change everything just for her love. She promised me that if the queen were sent away then she would break from him fully. I didn’t know how she could ever do that. No one could simply break away from the king like that.
“Are you okay?” I felt Lady Suffolk’s hand on my shoulder as she sat down next to me.
“I guess so,” I mumbled.
She rubbed my arm. “You will learn French easily.”
It was not that that I was worried about. “You’re on good terms with the king, aren’t you?”
She smiled, showing her perfectly white teeth. “He’s my brother, so of course.”
“How…how do you feel about Anne Boleyn?” I already knew the answer.
She frowned. “Now that is something I’m really not supposed to voice my opinion of with my brother.”
“But I love the queen, and I love Anne,” I explained.
She shook her head slowly, looking at me with eyes as blue as her brother’s. “Anne may be a nice girl but to the court who has not known her she is just trying to steal the crown. I see things, and I know things more than most even dare to gossip about, but I know not really what to think of Anne. Myself, I have practically grown up with the queen. She is like an older sister to me, and she has been ever since she came here to marry my other brother, Arthur. Surely you have heard of that.”
“Of course. ‘Tis the only argument the king can base off of that explains why his marriage to the queen is void. But I know it is not true. Arthur and Catherine’s marriage was nothing if it wasn’t ever consummated.”
Lady Suffolk sighed. “There is one thing I know. When I was Queen of France for that short time, Anne was at court. Back then she was a small innocent girl on the outside, but she was known around the court, as was her sister, for her stubbornness and attitude. Maybe that is why my brother is so attracted to her. So like him she is.”
“Why doesn’t anyone like her?” I asked. I’d been daring to ask someone that for a long while now.
She smiled. “Why do wars go on in this world? People cannot answer questions like that, for in the end it just ends up in opinions. There is never any fact put into it.”
“Is it because she is French?” I asked.
“You never really know. French fashions are highly accepted here in court now, though. Queen Catherine is Spanish, yet no one judged her because of who she was. People love her for it. It also does help that her parents are now called the ‘Catholic Monarchs.’ But it just may be that Anne herself was born English, and that she should be expected to act that way. She grew up in France, though, and you adapt the customs and the ways and the language of the place where you come from. People that really have no just cause to hate her are really just jealous of her.”
Jealous of Anne…who would want to be her, the eyes of the court upon her wherever she went and her every move watched?
Next came history. Our tutor, Sir George Dean, was an old, gray-haired man. He could barely walk, and had to be carried in on a cushioned chair.
“Welcome, little one,” he smiled at me when everything was settled and we were ready to begin. He handed me a large, ancient book. “Your name?”
“Elizabeth Rushford,” I replied, running my fingers over the edges of the book.
I was never too interested in history. So caught up in the events of recent things that I never took a care to what happened in the past.
“Elizabeth, you must know my philosophy then,” he smiled, and I could see he was missing a few teeth. “Eleanor, would you tell her?”
Eleanor smiled and said, “What happens in the past is easily repeated again and again.”
“Basically history repeats itself,” Sir Dean smiled again. “Now open up that book there, find a date, any date at all.”
I opened up the ancient book, a cloud of dust coming over me. “1348.”
“Ah, one of the most controversial years in English history,” he nodded. “The Black Death is sweeping across Europe, wiping out nearly all of the population. That is the year the plague comes to England, threatening everyone in its path. The Royal Family of the Plantagenet’s-the king then being Edward III-travel up towards Scotland to escape, but the newborn child of the king and queen succumbs to the disease. That first round of plague, with the Plantagenet rulers, killed nearly half of all people living in England. And now it is the Tudor dynasty. What is our plague?”
“Anne Boleyn,” Frances muttered with a snicker.
“Don’t,” I muttered, pleading with her.
She smiled and went back to looking at her big book.
The plague of the Tudors…could it be the sweats? It killed Arthur, nearly killed Catherine, Mary, and Anne. Maybe…
“The sweats?” I asked.
He nodded his head to the side. “Is that an answer, Miss Elizabeth, or a question?”
“Well I’m merely guessing,” I confessed.
“You need not guess. All answers are accepted. If they are wrong, then you will be smarter than when you first asked. If you are right then you are just the same as when you answer,” Sir Dean explained.
“Can we start our lesson on the Americas now?” Eleanor asked.
“My dear-that is recent events. The Americas are a new idea fresh in our minds. Hundreds of years from now people will look back on this as a critical time in history. But right now it is not history.”
“But didn’t you also say that things that happened even moments ago can be considered as history?” Frances asked.
“You must know the difference between recent history and the history of the past,” he replied. “In the blink of an eye all of us will be gone from this place anyway, and we will just be a part of past history.”
And maybe he was right. The five years I had spent at court had seemed to go back just like that. How soon would it be until I was gone from the Earth, when my time here was over?
That night after lessons were over and the queen and I had returned from the chapel, Anne came to the queen’s rooms. Her face was pale and worry-filled as she curtsied to the queen.
“Your Majesty, may I speak to you…alone?” Anne asked, her voice weak.
The queen turned from her window and was not too surprised to see Anne at her door. Queen Catherine nodded and led Anne to a separate chamber.
“Go listen to what they say,” Elizabeth Seymour elbowed me.
“I…I don’t think that such a good…”
All the other maids were looking at me with pleading eyes.
“Fine…” I sighed and walked over to the closed door, placing my ear against it to hear what was said.
“What’s being said?” Meg asked curiously.
I could hear the queen’s soft but commanding voice say, “Anne Boleyn…how the tables have changed.”
I could almost see Anne standing at the window, looking over London longingly. “I never meant to hurt Your Majesty.”
“Oh, of course you did not Anne,” the queen laughed sarcastically. “You take my husband and expect me to fair lightly with it, with him divorcing his loyal and ever-loving wife?”
“Your Majesty…please…”
“No, Anne! I no longer have favorites because of what they have done to me. I’ve come to learn that I cannot trust you Boleyn’s, with your men plotting for power and your women whores!”
“Please madam, just know that I never meant to hurt you. Not now and not ever. I’d rather live without love for the rest of my life if it meant the king would go back to you!” Anne cried.
“Crafty liars as well you Boleyn’s are. I can’t believe how your family has raised you. Taught to look so innocent and to lash out when least expected.”
I could tell Anne was crying now. “Your Majesty, I love you. I don’t want to be queen but I want to be the one to give the king a son, a living male heir, and you as well as I know that you cannot have children any longer.”
“That may be true, Anne, but the king can be very easily replaced by Mary.”
“Oh, Good Lord, when will you stop believing that your daughter will be the sole ruler of England?”
“I still have hope,” the queen sighed. “But there is still that bastard Henry FitzRoy that may become the heir.”
“No one will accept a bastard as their king!”
“The only reason the Tudors were able to rule was because of a bastard blood tie to the Plantagenet rulers on Henry VII’s mother’s side!”
“And people still think that Henry is not the true ruler because of that! Do you want another war that puts the realm in debt? He needs a living, legitimate son in order for his family to keep the throne.”
“And you can give it to him then?”
“If I do then you will be back at court as queen again. I will not give up my virtue if I am not married.”
“Sometimes I think you have,” the queen spat. “What of that Henry Percy boy?”
“Do not speak his name to me.”
“You consummated your union with him!” the queen exclaimed.
“No!” Anne yelled. “I loved him so much but our union was broken by Wolsey so the king could have me for himself!”
The queen started to laugh. “My dear, Wolsey broke you up because you did not ask the king to be married when Henry Percy himself was already engaged.”
“It does not matter, we did nothing.”
“Anne, I’m the only one that can see through your lies. I’ve had to see through all lies in order to survive in this place.”
It was silent for awhile, and then Anne said calmly, “Your Majesty, I lie no more than any other person in this court. You don’t have to believe a word I’m saying or a word I’ve said in my whole life, but if there is one thing you must believe, believe that I never meant to tear you apart from your husband and your child.”
Moments later the door opened and Anne walked out, holding her head high. She looked as if she was holding back tears, and did not turn to me as I stood there behind the door, just walked out of the room.
That day was November 30. Anne ran to my at dinner time, when the king was supposed to be dining with her. Her face was a mess of tears.
“The king is dining with the queen!” she gasped out.
“Anne, it’s no wonder the king has put you aside for a bit. With all your complaints he just wants some piece,” Meg explained.
“They aren’t complaints, Meg! I keep telling him that I can deliver him the son he needs. I must tell him that to keep him coming back. Otherwise, he would move on. I must do this, yet he still has his queen and I shall not give up my virtue. I tell him time and time again that if I will be his queen, he will have my child!” Anne cried.
“Anne, ‘tis not exactly easy to marry a woman when you are still married,” I declared.
“Her marriage with his brother was consummated, therefore a marriage to Henry is not, and never was valid!” she yelled.
“There was a dispensation from the Pope that said they could marry even if it was consummated,” I explained.
“But in the Bible it says a man who marries his brother shall die childless!” Anne screamed, her face red with anger. “And don’t even tell me that little bastard is his child. It means an heir!”
“What would you know Anne, you could care less about the Bible!” Meg cried, facing her.
“I care about my religion.”
“Not when people are calling you a witch and a sorceress!” I screamed.
“I’m not a witch and you know it!”
“Then end it with the king Anne, before everything goes too far,” Meg said calmly.
“No,” Anne spat. “I will birth his child, and I will be queen of this country when he marries me, his first wife.”
I stepped forward to face her with another remark, but Meg held me back.
“Let it go,” she whispered.
Anne’s temper was a mean one, and it often landed her in hard situations, like the one where she was in now. Yet moments later she was smiling and asking us to play cards. There was something so strange about her.
The next night after lessons the queen told me to go and see Meg, who had wanted to speak to me all day.
When I went to our room I saw her sitting by the fire, her hands shaking in her lap. Her face was pale and she looked almost sick.
“What’s wrong, Meg?” I asking, sitting down next to her and smiling, thinking about how wonderful lessons were that day. Boy, I loved history, and Latin as well. French and etiquette though had been unbearable.
“You have nothing to fear, do you? So young and innocent…” Meg sighed, looking at me right in the eyes. There were dark rings under her eyes. I had remembered the night before that Meg had had a terrible time sleeping.
“What happened to you Meg?” I asked.
She took a deep breath. “I have been suspecting for a long time now…I’m with child”
“Holy Mother,” I gasped and covered my face in my hands. I could not imagine how Meg herself felt.
“I’m only fourteen, Elizabeth! And I’m not married! I don’t know what to do!” she cried, tears rolling down her face.
“I think it’s time to tell Tom,” I declared.
“No!” she screamed. “I love him far too much to explain to him that I am carrying another man’s child. I cannot simply tell him it is his, either, for we’ve never done anything!”
“It is the only way Meg!” I had to be straight with her.
She shook her head, wailing. “My life is forever ruined. No one will want me, and when the child is born I cannot hide it from Tom. He is the best thing that happened to me.”
“Why didn’t you tell someone earlier? I thought you said you weren’t with child!”
“My mother never explained things to me, Elizabeth. I told her I never even danced with a man. Besides, I have not even seen my mother in months.”
“So what do we do?”
She shook her head. “When people find out I will be banished from court.”
“Meg…all I can believe that there is left to do is to go and tell Tom. He will understand, and if he marries you then you can pass of the child as his…”
“No! Anything but telling Tom!” she wailed.
“Please, Meg,” I pleaded with her. Even if she would not tell him I would.
She slowly looked up at me. “I feared that there was nothing else I could do…I have been looking up things…”
“What things?” I inquired, seeing the scared look on Meg’s face. A young girl such as her would ruin her life with this.
“I’ve looked in some medical books. I found ways that…that an abortion can be brought on.”
I wanted to slap her. “Margaret Taylor!” I cried. “A child is a gift from God, a sign of love given from one person to another. If you want to remember and cherish that French boy you bedded then the child is all you have. I shall not and will not let you. You will be condemning yourself to Hell!”
More tears poured down her eyes and she nodded. “I know…I know…”
“Ok, let’s go talk to Anne,” I helped her up.
Anne was playing cards with her brother in her room.
“What are the two of you doing here? Ah, George I’ll beat you this time…” Anne declared without looking up.
“We need to talk to you,” I replied. Meg was too upset to even speak.
Then Anne looked up and saw the distress upon Meg’s face.
“George, we shall continue our game later,” Anne nodded and George left the room.
“Now come and sit,” Anne motioned over to the chairs near the fire.
Once I had helped Meg to the chair and sat her down her guilt and sadness disappeared from her face a bit. “I…I’m with child.”
Anne let out a deep sigh. “I have actually expected you to say that.”
“You knew?” Meg looked to me.
“I can tell by the way you look so unsure of things and how much you have been eating these past few months,” Anne laughed. “I remember well my sister when she was with child.”
“Meg wants to have an abortion,” I gasped out.
Anne nodded sadly, looking intently at Meg. “’Tis not my life. Meg gets to make the decision. I know of some women that will make a concoction for abortions out of tansy.”
Meg’s face went pale again.
“I…I was never faced with this, but I know how you must be feeling. I’d say the thing to do is tell that sweetheart of yours that you are carrying his child.”
Tears fell down Meg’s face.
I went to sit closer to Anne to explain some things. “The child is not Tom’s, it is a Frenchman’s. He is not in the country any more, and Meg does not wish to tell Tom for fear that he will leave her.”
Anne let out a deep breath. “Of that I was afraid as well.”
“So what do we do?” I asked.
“Meg,” Anne called to her. “By the end of tonight I would like an answer. I would like to tell you some things, some important things, and then after that I would like you to tell me.”
Soon Meg was wrapped in Anne’s arms, and Anne was telling her the story of how she met Henry Percy.
“I met him a long while back. He was a page, low in the court, yet he was the first person to ask me to dance here in this court. It was just after I had come to England from France, and I was your age. My sister was already with her group of friends, safe to say the whores of the court. His comely eyes and smile caught my eye instantly. So comely he was, and he danced so gracefully. It was natural that I came to love him, and that eventually he asked me to marry him.
“I said yes, for I loved him more than anything on the Earth. And then Wolsey stepped in, I learned he was already engaged, and things ended. I watched my sister rise and fall, be called the ‘Great Whore’ and now I’ve got the king myself. Seems I’ve gone a far way.
“Now, I must warn you that if you go through with this that some things may happen. I’ve heard of a few girls that have done the same, and one of them was harmed. She…she died from too much of the herb. The rest experienced much pain, for their child just came out like that, dead…”
I covered my ears, trying not to listen to any of it. It was terrible. Why would someone do that to themselves?
About and hour later, Anne got up and went to her dresser. She pulled out a bundle of papers from the back of the drawer.
“I want to read these to you,” Anne smiled.
“The letters?” I asked.
Anne nodded and sat down next to Meg on the chair again.
“My mistress and friend: I and my heart put ourselves in your hands, begging you to have them suitors for your good favor, and that your affection for them should not grow less through absence. For it would be a great pity to increase their sorrow since absence does it sufficiently, and more than ever I could have thought possible reminding us of a point in astronomy, which is, that the longer the days are the farther off is the sun, and yet the more fierce. So it is with our love, for by absence we are parted, yet nevertheless it keeps its fervor, at least on my side, and I hope on yours also: assuring you that on my side the ennui of absence is already too much for me: and when I think of the increase of what I must needs suffer it would be well nigh unbearable for me were it not for the firm hope I have and as I cannot be with you in person, I am sending you the nearest possible thing to that, namely, my picture set in a bracelet, with the whole device which you already know. Wishing myself in their place when it shall please you, this by the hand of your loyal servant and friend, H. Rex.”
Meg was smiling, surely thinking of Tom, when Anne had finished reading.
“I assure you that if your sweetheart loves you half as much as Henry loves me, he will take you as his wife and accept your child as his own,” Anne explained.
“Read another one,” Meg said, indifferent.
Anne took up another in her hand. She blushed and smiled, skimming the letter.
“Read it!” I exclaimed, wanting to know what she smiled about.
“Fine,” Anne giggled. “Mine own sweetheart, these shall be to advertise you of the great loneliness that I find here since your departing, for I ensure you methinketh the time longer since your departing now last than I was wont to do a whole fortnight: I think your kindness and my fervents of love causeth it, for otherwise I would not have thought it possible that for so little a while it should have grieved me, but now that I am coming toward you methinketh my pains been half released…. Wishing myself (specially an evening) in my sweetheart’s arms, whose pretty dukkys I trust shortly to kiss.”
“Oh Anne, how romantic he is,” Meg giggled and then her hand flew to her stomach. She gasped.
“You…you felt the child?” Anne asked.
“Oh…no, of course not,” Meg muttered.
Anne called for some sweetmeats then and we talked and laughed nearly all night long. At around two o’clock Meg seemed too tired to even keep her eyes open.
“I’ve made a decision,” she said suddenly.
I tried hard to keep awake to hear what she said.
“I will keep the child and tell Tom tomorrow,” she sighed, smiling slightly.
Anne threw her arms around her. “A good decision you have made.”
The next day I was sitting in lessons, wondering if Tom and Meg were out
You need to log in to urbis or create an urbis account to review this writing.
Reviews
Sort Reviews by Newest | Oldest | Highest Quality | Lowest Quality | Newest Comments |
Fabulous… a piece of real writing with substance! As someone who is generally slow to latch onto genuinely fine writing I was glad to be able to offer my praises to your submission this afternoon.
I think it is unconstructive merely to give the writer the proverbial thumbs-up, so I will state what I enjoyed about the piece and then try to help with the writing in whatever I am able to. I really enjoyed the language that you used here. I think the piece is alight on a really understated and beautiful turn of phrase and that the word choice you have in your piece are really fantastic. At the risk of sounding redundant, I find that you have this way with a metaphor… you are able to twist a basic (perhaps clichéd) phrase and turn it into something original. I wish I could express myself well… what I mean is I found the language of the story rich and rewarding.
I also was able to catch the flow of your characters’ dialogue very well. The way in which your personnel talk is very astutely monitored. I can hear their voices booming loud and clear from the page… I was able to place myself in the story in that way we are all left to do with great escapism. This novel goes deeper than a piece of lowly escapism, but I find that losing oneself in the prose is a fine indication of a successful piece of fiction!
To the criticism, well… the problems I see are things that would perhaps be ironed out in several drafts. I think there are a few phrases in there that work better than others. I would recommend reading these parts aloud in your head merely to see if they sound right and if you can perhaps do something about them. However, I am convinced that you are able to spot these and do not need to be patronised by the likes of me!
I felt perhaps that the descriptions could have been improved somewhat. It is evident that you are a writer of great substance and talent, so it would be nice to see you tackle a more prosaic style! I would be interested to see you tackle a more ‘classical’ writing style… one of the older author mould of the Victorian era.
Right now we get a definitive sense of this person, but I sensed a certain distance here. Maybe through that sparkling dialogue you deploy we could have a certain degree of vulnerability creeping in? I would love it if this were the case! Right now I love what you have done with this character… I would just push you into rounding this character off.
I thoroughly enjoyed your work most of all (if this is not clear already). I hope to read more of your work in future!
- add/view comments (3)
Showing 1 - 1 of 1
Review item
Add to faves
GENERAL
REVIEW QUEUE
Ratings & Rankings
