The Other Boleyn Girl Read online

  He looked past her and saw me. “Why, Mary!” he exclaimed, beaming with delight. “The beautiful Lady Carey, back with us again.”

  I dropped my curtsy and looked up into his face. “Lady Stafford, if you please, Your Majesty. I have remarried.”

  His quick nod showed that he remembered—and remembered the peal his wife had rung over his head as she banished me from court. As I saw his smile stay constant, and his eyes stay warm on my upturned face, I thought what a poisonous witch my sister was. She had sought and obtained my banishment quite alone, it had not been the will of the king at all. He would have forgiven me at once. If Anne had not needed me to help her hide her pregnancy then she would have left me at the little farmhouse forever.

  “And you have a child?” he asked. He could not help a swift glance over my head to Anne, looking from the fertile Boleyn girl to the barren one.

  “A girl, Your Majesty,” I said, thanking God that it had not been a son.

  “William is a lucky man.”

  I smiled up at him intimately. “I certainly tell him so.”

  Henry laughed and reached out a hand to draw me closer. “Is he not here?” he said, looking around his gentlemen.

  “He was not asked…” I started.

  At once he grasped my meaning. He turned back to his wife. “Why is Sir William not bidden back to court with his wife?” he asked.

  Anne never even wavered. “Of course he was summoned. I invited them both to come back to us as soon as my dear sister was churched.”

  I could do nothing but admire her as she delivered this barefaced lie. Nothing for me to do but accept the lie and then play it for all I was worth. “He will join me tomorrow if it please Your Majesty. And if I may, I will have my daughter with me too.”

  “The court is no place for a baby,” Anne said flatly.

  At once Henry rounded on her. “More the pity. And more the pity I should hear that from my wife. This court is the very place for a baby, as I would have thought you, of all people, would know.”

  “I was thinking of the baby’s health, my lord,” Anne said coldly. “I was thinking that she should be brought up in the country.”

  “Her mother can be the judge of that,” Henry said grandly.

  I smiled, honey sweet, and then I snatched at my chance. “Indeed, with your permission, I should like to take my baby into the country, to Hever this summer. She can meet my other children.”

  “My son Henry,” Anne reminded me.

  I turned a beguiling gaze upward to the king.

  “Why not?” he said. “Whatever you wish, Lady Stafford.”

  He offered me his arm and I swept him a curtsy and slipped my hand in the crook of his elbow. I gazed up at him as if he were still the most handsome prince in Europe, and not the balding fat man he had become. The clear line of his jaw had thickened. The hair on the top of his head was thin and sparse. The rosebud mouth which had been so kissable in a young face was now a self-indulgent little pout, and his dancing eyes were occluded by the fat of his eyelids and the puff of his cheeks. He looked like a man both indulged and yet unhappy. A man like a sulky child.

  I smiled radiantly up at him, I tilted my head toward him, laughed at his remarks, and made him laugh with tales of my buttermaking and my cheesemaking, until we were at the high table and he went to his throne as King of England, and I went to my seat at the table for the ladies in waiting.

  We sat long over dinner, this court had become gluttons. There were twenty different meat dishes: game and killed meat, birds and fish. There were fifteen different puddings. I watched Henry taste a little of everything, and continually send for more. Anne sat beside him with a face like ice, picking at her plate, her eyes forever flicking to one side and then the other as if she would see where danger waited.

  When the plates were finally taken away there was a masque and then the court set to dancing in earnest. I kept a close watch on the side door to the left of the fireplace, even when I was taking my place in a circle of dancers, even when I was flirting with my old friends of the court. After midnight, my watch was rewarded: the door opened and my husband William slipped in, and looked around for me.

  The candles were guttering down and there were so many people dancing and moving around that he was not seen. I excused myself from the dance and went over to him and he drew me at once into an alcove, behind a curtain.

  “My love,” he said and took me in his arms. “It feels like a lifetime.”

  “For me too. Is the baby all right? Settled in?”

  “I left her and the nurse sound asleep. And I have good lodgings for them and for us too as soon as you can get away from court.”

  “I’ve done better than that,” I said delightedly. “The king was pleased to see me and he asked for you. You are to come to court tomorrow. We can be here together. He said that we could take Baby Anne to Hever for the summer.”

  “Did Anne ask it for you?”

  I shook my head. “It’s Anne I have to thank for my exile,” I said. “She wouldn’t even have let me see my children if I had not asked it of the king.”

  He gave a low whistle. “You must have thanked her kindly for that.”

  I shook my head. “No point complaining of her very nature.”

  “And how is she?”

  “Sour,” I whispered very low. “Sick. And sad.”

  Summer 1535

  THAT NIGHT GEORGE AND I SAT IN ANNE’S ROOM AS SHE PREPARED for bed. The king had said he would lie with her that night and she had bathed and asked me to brush her hair.

  “You do make sure he is careful, don’t you?” I asked her anxiously. “It’s a sin that he should lie with you at all.”

  George gave a short laugh from where he was stretched out on her bed, his boots on her fine covers.

  She turned her head under the hairbrush. “I’m in little danger of rough wooing.”

  “What d’you mean?”

  “Some nights he cannot do it. Some nights he cannot get hard at all. It’s disgusting. I have to lie underneath him while he heaves around and sweats and grunts. And then he gets angry, and he is angry with me! As if I had anything to do with it.”

  “Is it drink?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “You know the king. He’s always half-drunk by night.”

  “If you tell him you’re with child…” I said.

  “I’ll have to tell him in June, won’t I?” she remarked. “As soon as it quickens, I’ll tell him then. He’ll cancel the court’s progress and we can all stay at Hampton Court. George will have to ride out and hunt with him and keep that moon-faced Jane off his neck.”

  “Archangel Gabriel couldn’t keep the women off him,” George said negligently. “You’ve set a pattern, Anne, you’ll live to regret it. They all of them hold him at arm’s length and promise him the earth. It was easier when they were all like pretty Mary here—took a little romp and were paid a couple of manors for it.”

  “I think you got the manors,” I said sharply. “And Father. And William Carey. As I recall, I got a pair of embroidered gloves and a pearl necklace.”

  “And a ship named for you, and a horse,” Anne said with her accurate envious memory. “And gowns without number, and a new bed.”

  George laughed. “You have an inventory as if you were a groom of the household, Anne.” He stretched out a hand for her and pulled her to the bed to lie back on the pillow beside him. I looked at the two of them, as intimate as twins, side by side in the big bed of England.

  “I’ll leave you,” I said shortly.

  “Run off to Sir Nobody,” Anne threw over her shoulder, and twitched the richly embroidered curtains of the bed so they were both shielded from my sight.

  William was waiting for me, in the garden, looking out over the river, his face dark.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “He’s arrested Fisher,” he said. “I never thought he’d dare.”

  “Bishop Fisher?”

  “I thought