Bound to Obey and Serve: A novel of Jane Seymour

PREVIEW - September 1535 [royal progress]

By request, I've uploaded a preview of what's to come in the story. At this exact moment, Jane is patiently waiting for me to finish with Eliana over at Whore of Babylon to come back and write the next section of her story. However, I do have plenty of sections from later parts of the novel written and waiting.

For the special friend that requested the chapter where Jane and Henry first begin to develop feelings for each other, I offer you this.

Setting: It's September 1535. Anne and Henry have been married for nearly 3 years. The court is nearing the end of its summer progress and is enjoying a brief sojourn at Jane's childhood home, Wolf Hall, before returning to London. Jane's brother Edward is rising fast at the court, and this visit is a mark of the King's respect for him.

Parts of this are earmarked for editing later on - for example, I don't feel that the exchange between Anne and Jane at the feast is strong or sharp enough.

Let's begin:

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To celebrate the King’s arrival, Sir John laid on a sumptuous feast, serving the royal couple with the venison he himself had killed in Savernake.

The great barn was swept and scrubbed, festooned with drapes and banners in Tudor colours of white and Lincoln green. Wine flowed freely; the room was alive with festival atmosphere and gaiety.

As hosts, Jane’s parents were accorded a position of honour at the top table with the royal couple and the highest-ranking nobles on the progress. Jane, as one of Anne’s lesser ladies, was seated with her counterparts further down the room. It gave her a perfect view of her sovereigns: she watched Henry’s cheeks bloom to the colour of the wine he drank in such copious quantities. Anne, unusually, partook of almost as much as her husband; growing more sallow and withdrawn with each cup.

Jane wondered what was in her mind to make her so miserable.

The King, a smile splitting his face, raised his cup high. ‘A toast!’ he bellowed, ‘to the hosts! And to the finest venison in the country!’

Courtiers grinned and raised their own goblets, glad to oblige. ‘To the hosts!’ they chorused, draining their cups.

‘Pah!’ exclaimed Anne, startling the court into silence. ‘Sir John would do better to save his money. All this,’ she gestured carelessly about her, ‘it’s a barn! And a haunted one at that, with his sickly-pale daughter always hanging about the place.’ She threw her head back and laughed uproariously, expecting the court to join her. Her favoured gentlemen managed a few weak smiles.

Jane glanced at her father as the Queen slighted his ancestral home and his favourite daughter in the same breath. He was livid, lips pressed into a barely visible line and a muscle working violently in his jaw.

Henry’s voice was low with anger as he rebuked her, ‘you are drunk, Madam. You embarrass yourself.’ And me, he added silently.

Anne didn’t heed the warning, ‘well, she is! The man clearly can’t afford to pay anyone to marry her – and who would take her without a dowry? A little spinster ghost with no fight in her! Not a shred of wit or sparkle.’ She gave another derisive laugh; this time, nobody smiled.

The King’s face visibly darkened, his voice heavy with sarcasm as he replied, ‘perhaps Mistress Seymour doesn’t value showiness as you do, my dearest. Why don’t you ask her?’

All eyes turned expectantly to Jane. Blood boiling, emboldened by wine, and trembling with fury, she felt she must reply, and to hell with the consequences. The thrill of defying a queen pulsed through her as she stood – she’d not allow herself, her family and her home to be slandered by some upstart cousin, crowned or not.