The Only Boleyn

Spring 1522 - Brereton

     Soon enough, the boyish King calls for dancing, and the court processes through to another hall that they habitually use to dance. The Queen nods at the musicians, who strike up a jaunty tune and the court choses their partners. George offers his arm to me, and with a laugh of delight, my handsome brother and I whirl out into the dance and get lost in it.
     I was tutored so strictly in the court of France that I am not fearful of forgetting the steps, so I can enjoy the dancing. I fix a coy smile on my face, and remember my French composure. Surely enough, many young men of the court are openly gazing at me, and I twirl round faster and faster with George, capturing their attention and keeping it. 
     I spin and spin and spin - the world becomes a delightful blur as I rap my heels on the floor and easily keep in time with the music. I throw my head back and laugh gleefully - and then the music ends. I stand in the women's line breathlessly, my cheeks flushed and my eyes sparkling. My chest is heaving from the exercise and I notice Henry Percy's eyes drifting down towards it - I slide him a flirtatious grin and he blushes and glances away.
I curtsey to George and he offers me his arm and we head to the side of the room together, as the musicians take a rest and the lute player steps into the room to play a piece before the next dance begins.
I stretch out my arm for a drink from the passing servant when a hand stops mine - I turn my head slowly, a controlled gesture, and my dark gaze meets that of William Brereton. I give him an inquisitive smile, and retract my hand from the glass.
     "Let me, Lady Anne." I bob a curtsey in thanks as Brereton hands me a glass of wine from the tray.
Regarding him from under my eyelashes, I inquire as to what brings Sir William to this side of the hall.
"I have been in the sun all morning, my Lady, yet I am still drawn to the most dazzling beauty of the whole court." This is courtly flirtation; it means nothing. The French court was full of subtle undertones whenever someone spoke - the English court does it much more blatantly.
"But, Sir William, the Queen is over there." I glance towards the strong woman seated on the magnificent throne at the end of the hall. "That does not explain why you find yourself over here." I smile coyly at him, as if daring him.
     The handsome courtier runs a hand through his thick, dark hair and smiles ruefully at me. I tilt my head to the side inquisitively, and wait.
     "Of course, Lady Anne. Yet I am enchanted by your beauty - the Queen is the sun and you are but the moon."
     "The moon?"
     Brereton smiles again. "Yes, Mistress Boleyn. Luminous, dark and mysterious. Frankly, I should like to see more of the moon - I find it dangerously attractive, and I do believe that confined purely to being seen during the night does not allow its full glory to show."
     "You would wish the moon to appear during daytime, Sir William?"
     "I would, Lady Anne. However, I shall have to suffice with but a small glimpse of its radiance for now - may I have this dance?" I look up at him as if I could wish for nothing more wonderful.
     "Perhaps." I elegantly extend my hand for him to kiss, and I slip my empty glass back onto the server's tray. Brereton kisses my hand and then tucks it into the crook of his elbow and leads me out to the next dance just beginning now.
     "Look who you've caught, Brereton!" Lord Carey laughs. I shrug at him, an entirely French gesture, with a playful smile on my face.
     "Worry not, Carey," Brereton is smiling at me, "I'll get your beautiful sister-in-law back to you safely!"
     The dance continues and I find myself partnered with George who turns and shouts to Brereton, "I've captured your partner, William! I don't intend to give her back anytime soon - she needs a proper partner!" The dance whirls on and on and I enjoy dancing with Brereton, for I find him good dancer and a most chivalrous partner.
     And then I'm dancing with him - we switch partners again and I find myself hand in hand with the King himself.
     I draw myself quickly out of my happy daze and think on my feet for a compliment that will please Henry and also benefit my sister.
     "You dance supremely, Your Grace!" I am near to shouting above the chatter of the court and the music. "Before now, I thought my sister the best dancer I knew!"
     The King chuckles, and says, "Mary is a fine dancer indeed. She is my partner for this dance, and I hope for the next dances also!" This is good - this is the King's first step towards my sister and it bodes well for all of us.
     "You are most kind to her, Your Grace. I know she admires you most feverently." The King's eyes light up like the spoilt child he is, and I know now that Mary has indeed captured his attention.

          ***

"Looks like Henry's taken a fancy to Mary," George had come to our bedchamber after the dancing was over. "He looked like he wanted to eat you up."
Mary flushed a deep pink and I continued to brush her hair. "Greedy," I remarked, and watched Mary flush deeper still.
"And you and Brereton, eh? Planning to escape your marriage to Ormonde?" George continued briskly.
I raised an eyebrow at George, who gave me a cheeky smile back and jumped onto the bed Mary and I share.
"Carey's handsome," I say to Mary, "the great-grandson of the third Earl of Somerset, and very high in the King's favour." I'm stating the only traits that matter for a man at court nowadays.
"Carey's all very well... But the King is magnificent!" I glance sharply down at Mary and tug at her hair deliberately.
"Ow!"
"Serves you right," I say harshly, "you can't fall in love with the King, stupid." Her face falls and I can feel my impatience rising.
"But he's really kind to me..." Dear, innocent Mary.
"Yes, because he wants you in his bed, you fool."
     George backs me on this matter, thank God. "He'll knock you up with a Royal bastard or two," he says crudely, "then cast you aside like Bessie Blount. She gave him a son, didn't she? Henry Fitzroy?"
"She loved the King, too. That didn't save her." I smooth down Mary's hair and send her to her husband's bed.
I turn to George, who suddenly looks serious. "She'll be ruined if she falls for him. She'll be like damaged goods once he casts her aside."
"William'll take her back," I say confidently, "the problem is getting him to let her go for a while."
"Uncle and I will talk him round," George laughs hollowly, "and probably the King himself, too."
I nod quietly and stifle a yawn, at which George rises to leave.
"And now, dear Annamaria, I must leave you." I snorted at his brazenness.
"Ah, yes, dear brother - the whores of Greenwich are a noble calling."
George winked at me as he slid out of the room; I, for my part, snuffed out my candle and fell asleep thinking about my bleak marriage prospects.