A man whom I assumed to be my husband’s primary gentleman’s servant greeted me and showed me inside. The reception hall was of marble, perhaps Italian marble, and there were large rooms branching off in every direction. The draperies, I noticed, were faded, and I suspected that there had not been much merriment in the great hall in some time. A lack of a woman’s touch. And yet…. it had potential.

“Good morrow, Meg.” Simon crept up behind me and drew near to my side. I was in a mind to correct him with a “My Lady Blackston” but I was too tired for a fight. He was perfectly dressed and made pleasant conversation, asking about the court and my family and expressing appreciation that we had passed safely through the Sweat. “Meredith will show you to your rooms, wherein you might refresh yourself, and then, after dining, I’ll escort you to My Lord.”

“He won’t be dining with us?” I had wondered why he hadn’t been there to greet me but had sent Simon instead.

“No,” was all Simon offered, and then he indicated that I should be shown to my chambers, which were marvelous indeed.

After we dined, on fine plate but in a lonely, vast dining hall, Simon brought me upstairs. He left me at a set of great oak doors, kissed my cheeks a bit too close to the lips, and departed. I pushed open the doors and there were no serving maids to be found.

“Sire,” I called into the dark.

“Come here, wife.” A feeble voice called from beyond. I made my way through the room, which smelt faintly of smoke, telling me that the baron’s illness had been treated recently by filling the room with thick smoke from the fire whilst leaving the windows and draperies closed in hopes of overcoming whatever malady might reside in his lungs. I made my way toward his bed and took a chair nearby. I looked into his eyes, and they were even more deeply set than Anne’s had been when she’d taken ill. Although he had on a nightshirt I could see his skin stretched tightly across the bones, like a thin linen across a corset.

“No, sit here.” He patted the bed, and I obliged by sitting next to him. “Would that I could have you to bed in another way,” he said before launching into a laugh broken by coughs. “Old King Louis took the king’s sister as a pretty bride to warm his old bed. Killed him, like as not, but he died happy.”

My horror must have shown on my face because he took my hand and patted it. “Not to worry, I shan’t make you an accessory to my death. Mayhap I should have let Simon take you in the first place, but a man can always hope. I hoped for a pretty bride and a young son. Alas, I got one but not the other.”

I swallowed my gorge at the thought of either of them taking me and limited myself to a cheerful, “You are not well, then, sir?”

“I am sick unto death.”

“Surely not!”

“Aye, my lady, ’tis true. But I wanted to see you again once afore I die, and to reassure you that you will be well provided for. I know not if I will last a week or a month or mayhap many months, but I see the angel of death about me from time to time, pursuing me closer and closer. My time draws near.”

“I shall remain with you,” I said. “For however long it takes.”

He coughed again. “You’re a good girl, but that is not necessary. The king has had his secretary write to me of the pleasure of having you at court, yea, has even given us a manor in the Marches as a wedding gift. A suggestion from your friend Mistress Boleyn, for certain.”

Dear Anne, she’d never mentioned it. I’d like as not never visit it but would have an income from it now, to add to my own small stipend from the baron.

The baron sat up and I arranged his linens around him. “I shall ensure that the king’s gift is included in your portion so that when I am gone you will be taken care of. Simon and your brother negotiated your marriage portion and it will go to you. As my heir, Simon will inherit my other properties and income. And title. He will see to the return of your portion after I am gone.”

I was glad to hear that I would be well provided for but about to protest the macabre conversation when he held his hand up. His manner was strong and commanding and I imagined he’d been a much different man decades before. “No, lady wife, in this you will submit to me. Rest a few days and then, anon, get thee back to court. Simon will send you word when our Lord has come to collect me.”

He was a kindly man after all, and though I could not say I would miss him I could have been situated much worse. As a dowager baroness, a widow, I would be free to remarry or not. I would have my jointure settled upon me and be independent of male control. It would not be the life I’d envisioned, but it would not be a bad life, either.

The kindest gift I could give then was to be humble before him, recognizing what manhood he had retained. “Yes, sir, as you wish.” I stood to take my leave.

“Wife, a kiss,” he said. He pointed at his cheek and I smiled before gently placing one on his lips. He grinned. “Thank you.” Then he fell back into his bed and I pulled the tapestries around him to allow the warmth to remain well into the night.

TEN

Year of Our Lord 1529

Richmond Palace

Hampton Court Palace

One late spring night a few months after I’d returned to court, Henry threw a masque. On the off chance that anyone at court had not realized the state of his heart and mind, he chose a Greek mythology theme to make that point clear, in particular, to Cardinal Campeggio and others of the delegation now here to decide his “great matter.” Henry was cast as Eros.

There was a rare moment when Anne and I could talk alone. Normally a swarm of courtiers enveloped her in their cloud. The closer you were to the king, of course, the easier to imbibe of the royal nectar, and some used the excuse to intoxicate themselves. Not Anne, though he exalted her of his own accord. “Why does Henry insist that we pretend not to know who he is, thusly disguised?” I asked. It was ludicrous, really. There were few men as tall as he, nearly none with his mane, and his presence was unmistakably regal.

“I think he desires to be liked for himself and not his position,” Anne said. “In masque, he’s allowed that.”

It was a rare glimpse into the heart of one whom we rarely acknowledged as having the needs any man may have, and perhaps one reason why he loved Anne remarkably. Some said he controlled his ardor because, as a master huntsman, he desired to close the chase. And whilst I suppose that was true, Anne was also the only woman who treated Henry as mere man, chiding him one moment then building him up the next, offering him new books and new thoughts, displaying her love for him in unadorned offerings as a simple country wife would to her husband.

Of course, he wasn’t her husband yet.

The hearings to determine the validity of Henry’s marriage were under way; the pope had determined that Cardinal Wolsey and Cardinal Campeggio, from Rome, should judge the matter. It was understandable that the pope did not want to rule on it himself. The queen’s nephew, Charles the Fifth, had made his will plainly known by sacking Rome two years before and holding the pope hostage in part so he could not rule on the validity of his aunt’s marriage. Hence, the pope had not ruled. We all knew what Wolsey, the king’s lapdog through and through, would decree and he assured the king that Campeggio would find the marriage void as well. Back and forth the arguments went, with nearly all men, courtiers and priests, siding with the king, with a few notable exceptions. Women were not allowed at the Blackfriars hearings save one, on one fateful day.