The Only Boleyn

Summer 1522 - Mary's Return

"No, don't say that."
I sighed and scrunched up the letter I had been writing. I threw it onto the floor to join the pile of other rejected ones, and drew a new sheet of parchment from the stack on my desk.
"What have we got so far, then?" I turned to George, whose chair was pulled close to mine as we composed the letter inviting Mary back to court.
"Dearest sister," he began, and I copied his words down onto the new letter. "It is our - no - my happy duty to inform you that you are to join us here at Windsor. Father said you can take a horse from the stables and two servants to ride with you. We expect to see you here within the week."
After I had written this, I asked how to sign off.
"Your ever loving sister, Anne." George smirked at me.
I shot him a mock annoyed glance. "Bit much, isn't it?"
"Do it."
Resigned, I picked up my quill again and finished the letter with my stylish hand.
"Give it to me," George demanded, holding his hand out for it. "I'll give it to the messenger."
I complied, but as I reached out to give it to him, George snatched my hand before I could draw away.
"Don't be so sad, Annamaria." George gestured for me to give him my other hand, but I shook my head.
"I'm not sad." I argued, "I'm cross."
"No, you're sad." He gestured again for my hand, and I gave it to him. Holding both my hands in his larger ones, he looked at me seriously.
"Anne. I've known you for 15 years, so don't try to fool me. This is exactly how you are when you're sad, and you've been like this ever since you heard Mary was to return to court."
"I'm not sad," I repeated, quieter this time.
George raised an eyebrow at me. "Sure you're not," he said, an irksome half-smile plastered on his face, "But if you were sad, then this would be as good a reason as any."
"Maybe I am." I finally conceded, feeling a twist in my stomach as I thought of Mary's return. "But only a little, mind." I hurried to say, and George chortled in reply.
"Anne, the King won't marry Mary. She'll receive gifts from him for the time being, of course, but when he's through with her she'll return to being simple Lady Carey - and we all know that will happen eventually," he said, as I protested his ominous words, "But you," he laughed. "You will marry far above your station - can't you see half the court is besotted with you?"
I smiled sorrowfully, feeling my cheeks grow warm at the words.
"Come on, then," George said, standing up and pulling me with him, "Let's go and send this off."

*

    Several days later, after the letter found its way to Mary's hands, she duly returned to court, humbled by her banishment. The first I saw of her was at the evening dinner, when she appeared on the arm of Lord Carey, smiling down at the ground as if she were shy to enter.
    As I reported back to my father, later, I was more than a little proud to see how well my plan had worked. Henry was mid-conversation with Katherine as my sister walked past him to our table, and I watched with satisfaction as he openly gaped at her. She, for her part, refused to appear affected by the ogling, yet I suspected she was aware of the effect she had on the King.
    As soon as the feasting was done and the chatter was merry, the King called for dancing, almost certainly to allow himself the chance to pair with Mary. George caught my eye as the King placed his hand on Mary's waist in order to lead her out to the pavane that was now being performed. He winked at me and I smiled back, happy that the King had taken so quickly to Mary again.
    I began walking towards him, assuming I would be dancing with him, when I felt my hand grasped by a rough, larger one. Hoping to find myself facing Percy, or even a handsome friend of George's, I was more than a little surprised to find myself, hands clasped, with William Carey.
    "Oh," I said, before I could reign in my astonishment. However, it was too late, and my brother-in-law detected the disappointment in my voice.
    "Don't worry," he said mockingly, shaking his head slightly, "I'm not asking you to dance."
    I immediately protested that my outburst had by no means been intended as offensive, but he brushed me off, knowing my words to be meaningless.
"Hush, Anne. I only jest." He smiled a rueful smile at me, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. "I am simply come to ask you to pass on my congratulations to your family - Uncle, in particular."
"Whatever for, my Lord?" I only needed William's glance towards where the King and Mary were now dancing hand in hand, eyes fastened on each other, to let me know what I was to congratulate my family for.
As I turned back to William, my mouth open to speak, I was halted in my tracks by a stiff bow - after which he swiftly fled our conversation.
Slightly ruffled by his abrupt exit, I made my way over to the side of the room, and stood by a large window, allowing me a glimpse of the outside world.
The view looked on to a magnificent panorama of a typically green English countryside, rife with gently rolling hills and strong oak trees sporadically dotting the landscape. At this time in the evening, the land was shrouded in a blanket of blue; the last glimmers of sun just visible on the horizon to my right. The grand stone walls of Windsor Castle made a stark contrast to the subtle contours of the landscape, and I thought how bizarre it would look to my ancestors, should they have chanced to see anything even vaguely resembling this - they would have thought it a horrific eyesore in the midst of the beautiful English countryside.
My thoughts turned melancholy, and after a while stood like this, I did not feel in the least in the mood for dancing. I simply stood, silent as can be, gazing out of the window into the distance, waiting for the last of the sun's rays disappear behind the distant villages.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" My hand clenched the windowsill in surprise as I started at the voice next to me. I turned, still lost in my world of thoughts, to see Henry Percy standing beside me.
"You'll make a poet, yet, Harry." I said, my voice a shadow of my former depressing thoughts. "I must confess, you caught me quite by surprise."
I smiled slightly, not possessing the energy to keep up my usual courtly flirtation. Besides, I felt no need to hide behind a façade with Harry. I did not want to flit around him like a shallow maid-in-waiting - I wanted him to see me as the strong young woman I was.
"I must confess it took me quite some time to work up the courage to come and speak to you." A pink blush tinged his cheeks, and I felt my whole body react to his words with joy.
"Oh, Harry - I am not fearsome, I can assure you that." I replied laughingly, folding my hands in front of me, simply for the purpose of doing something.
"Nay, but your haunting beauty is enough to linger on any man's brain. I am afraid to disrupt you, for you are as a goddess to me."
My breath hitched in my throat as I looked at Harry. His brows were slightly furrowed, as if in pain, but his gaze was serious. His whole face was illuminated by the golden light of dusk streaming through the window. His dark hair seemed to have a halo circling it, and his bronze skin was made golden by the light. He was, indeed, a very handsome man - and even if I had not have felt the way I did, I should have been very hard pushed to ignore these words from a man as young - not yet one-and-twenty - and as beautiful as this.
I could not think of a suitable response, such was the swirling in my mind. The endless chatter in the room seemed to grow louder as the warmth in my chest crept up my neck and I felt my cheeks grow hot as I broke away my stare, feeling embarrassed at how long I had been gazing at him.
"I apologise." Harry's voice cut through the silence, and I was pained to see him look so hurt, "I have overstepped my limit."
Unable to think, unable to do anything, I simply stared at him, uncomprehending.
"I am sorry for troubling you, Mistress Anne." Finally, my fuddled brain grasped something from the statements.
Harry was leaving.
At a loss for what to do, I hurried to prevent him going. I rushed forward and grasped his forearm with both of my hands, but instantly stepped away when I realised what a terrible mistake I had made.
It was enough to intrigue him, however. He turned back to me, framing his handsome face once more in the fading light.
"Harry, you have not overreached yourself!" I blurted suddenly, rendered powerless to control my speech. "I have been cold to you because to be lost in such..." I paused for the word, gesturing frantically at him, hoping he would understand, "Beauty," I finally selected, taking a step closer to him, "Would be the greatest folly - with none to blame but the one who gazed too deep." I looked up, pleadingly, at him, desperate to make him understand my want for him; my need for him.
When I had finished my speech, Harry let out a small sigh of happiness, and I smiled broadly at him, hoping my feelings to be understood. To me, the background noise seemed to all but fade away, leaving just to the two of us, as he took one more step towards me, finally closing the gap between us so there was only a tantalisingly small distance between us.
He lifted a golden hand up to my cheek, and I closed my eyes in pleasure, anticipating his cool touch on my flaming cheeks.
I opened them only when I head the sound of his arm dropping back down to alongside his breeches.
"Will you ride with me on the morrow?" He asked, reading my expression of disappointment all too well. He made a small gesture towards the rest of the lively room, reminded me that we were in public.
"Oh, yes." I said happily, watching his face break into a radiant smile, "Oh, yes," I breathed, again.
He touched my hand lightly as a means of farewell, before he disappeared back into the crowd of courtiers, leaving me to watch, joyfully, the setting sun give rise to the beautiful moon.