Part 67 (1/2)
With a word to Madge he came across to the queen and dropped with mock gallantry to one knee. ”I obey!” he said.
”It is time you were married, Sir Henry,” Anne said with pretended severity. ”I cannot have you hanging about my rooms bringing me into disrepute. You must make Madge an offer, I won't have my ladies other than perfectly behaved.”
He laughed outright, as well he might at the thought of Madge being perfectly behaved.
”She is my s.h.i.+eld. My heart yearns elsewhere.”
Anne shook her head. ”I don't want pretty speeches,” she said. ”You must make a proposal of marriage to Madge and have done.”
”She is the moon but you are the sun,” Henry replied.
I rolled my eyes at George.
”Don't you sometimes want to kick him?” he whispered loudly.
”The man's an idiot,” I said. ”And this will get us nowhere.”
”I cannot offer Mistress Shelton a whole heart and so I will offer her none,” Henry said, rescuing himself from a whole tangle of politesse. ”My heart belongs to the queen of all the hearts of England.”
”Thank you,” Anne said shortly. ”You can go back to turning pages for the moon.”
Norris laughed, got to his feet and kissed her hand. ”But I cannot afford gossip in my rooms,” Anne warned. ”The king has turned severe since his fall.”
Norris kissed her hand again. ”You shall never have grounds for complaint of me,” he promised her. ”I would lay down my life for you.”
He minced back to Madge who looked up and met my eye. I made a grimace at her and she grinned back. Nothing would ever make that girl behave like a lady.
George leaned over Anne's shoulder. ”You can't scotch rumors one by one. You have to live as though none of them matter at all.”
”I will scotch every single one,” she swore. ”And you find who the king is meeting, and what they are saying about me.”
George could not discover what was happening. He sent me to my father who only looked away and told me to ask my uncle for news. I found my uncle in the stable yard, looking over a new mare he was thinking of buying. The April suns.h.i.+ne was hot in the sheltered yard. I waited in the shade of the gateway until he was done, then I drew close to him.
”Uncle, the king seems much engaged with Master Cromwell, and with the Master Treasurer, and with you. The queen is wondering what business is taking so much time.”
For once he did not turn from me with his bitter smile. He looked me straight in the face and his dark eyes were filled with something I had never seen in him before: pity.
”I should get your son home from his tutors,” he advised quietly. ”He is taught with Henry Norris's boy at the Cistercians, is he not?”
”Yes,” I said, confused at the change of tack.
”I should have nothing to do with Norris, or Brereton, or Weston, or Wyatt, if I were you. And if they sent any letters to you, or love poems or nonsense or tokens, I should burn them.”
”I am a married woman, and I love my husband,” I said, bewildered.
”That is your safeguard,” he agreed. ”Now go. What I know could not help you, and it burdens me alone. Go, Mary. But if I were you I would get both my children into my keeping. And I would leave court.”
I did not go to George and Anne who were anxiously waiting for me, I went straight to the king's rooms to find my husband. He was waiting in the presence chamber, the king was in his private rooms with the inner core of advisors that had kept him busy indoors for all these spring days. As soon as William saw me enter he came across the room and led me into the corridor.
”Bad news?”
”No news at all, it is like a riddle.”
”Whose riddle is it?”
”My uncle's. He tells me to have nothing to do with Henry Norris, William Brereton, Francis Weston or Thomas Wyatt. When I said I did not, he told me to take Henry away from his tutors and keep my children by me and leave court.”
William thought for a moment. ”Where's the riddle?”
”In what he means.”
He shook his head. ”Your uncle would always be a riddle to me,” he said. ”I shan't think what he means, I shall act on his advice. I shall go at once and fetch Henry home to us.”
In two strides he was back in the king's room, he touched a man on his arm and asked him to excuse him if the king called for him, he would be back within four days. Then he was out in the corridor with me, striding toward the stairs so fast that I had to run to keep up with him.
”Why? What d'you think is going to happen?” I asked, thoroughly frightened.
”I don't know. All I know is that if your uncle says that our son should not be with Henry Norris's boy, then I shall get him home. And when I have fetched him here, we are all leaving for Rochford. I don't wait to be warned twice.”
The big door to the yard was open and he ran outside. I s.n.a.t.c.hed up the hem of my gown and ran after him. He shouted in the stable yard and one of the Howard lads came tumbling out and was sent running to tack up William's horse.
”I cannot take him from his tutors without Anne's permission,” I said hastily.
”I'll just get him,” William said. ”We can get permission after-if we need it. Events are going too fast for me. I want us to have your boy safe.” He caught me in his arms and kissed me firmly on the mouth. ”Sweetheart, I hate to leave you here, in the middle of it all.”
”But what could happen?”
He kissed me harder. ”G.o.d knows. But your uncle does not issue warnings lightly. I shall fetch our boy and then we will all get clear of this before it drags us down.”
”I'll run and fetch your traveling cape.”
”I'll take one of the grooms'.” He went quickly into the tack room and came out with a common cape of fustian.
”Are you in so much of a hurry you can't wait for your cape?”
”I'd rather go now,” he said simply, and that stolid certainty made me more afraid than I had ever been before for the safety of my son.
”Have you got money?”
”Enough,” he grinned. ”I just won a purse of gold off Sir Edward Seymour. A good cause, isn't it?”
”How long d'you think you will be?”