When Henriette Boleyn - the young, alluringly beautiful and tempting sister of Anne and Mary Boleyn - returns from the French court, she finds herself enchanted by the handsome King and soon becomes entangled in an extravagant mess, in which she and...
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HENRIETTE WAS RIDDLED with anxiety as she eyed herself in the mirror, her actions bordering on cynical as she smoothed out the burgundy velvet of her skirt and adjusted her french hood so that no wisps of hair would slip from it. Both Anne and Mary had been busied by their duties as ladies-in-waiting, so Henriette found herself alone in her apartments upon her return from the incident. She had bathed and found herself in a more reserved mood once the maidservant had helped her dress.
Henriette had dusted off an old frock from her days at the French Court; made of burgundy velvet, with a brocade panelled skirt that peeked from the middle slit, and ivory ermine trimmed trumpet sleeves that drooped too low because of its considerable age. It was her most suitable ballgown considering that the rest of her clothes were either too darkly coloured, or too inappropriate to wear in such company — she refused to don any shade of purple at court as she was afraid it would bring about ridiculing.
Once she had pulled on a clean, starched chemise and had the maidservant lace her into her stays and mend the gold ribbon that trimmed the bodice of her gown, she had found her mood considerably more amiable and prepared for tonight's events. Henriette was quite vexed still, but she knew that if she kept on her best behaviour all would turn out fine. It was difficult to remain calm when she had such proneness to her impulsive manner, something which always left her to be scolded by Mary.
After slipping on a pair of beribboned heels and dark silk stockings, she was ready to be buttoned into the gown. Her new maid was quick with her hands, and within minutes she was able to glance in the mirror and feign a pleased smile. Henriette's nervousness often preceded her, and in its obviousness, the maid had inquired if she was in need of any more assistance. Henriette's answer had been a little sharp — she had dismissed the maidservant — but she did not wish to be so bothered by someone she could not yet trust. Her last maidservant had nicked a strand of pearls and her yellow mantle.
Just as she was glaring at herself cynically, both Anne and Mary hastened their way into her bedchamber, both chatting amiably with each other, as if all quarrelling had been forgotten. Henriette spun around; a little struck by surprise, but continued to force a content smile across her lips. Anne wore a midnight velvet dress trimmed in black ermine, while Mary had draped herself in a deep red gown, likened to blood, which Henriette thought suited her licentious personality very well.
'Henriette,' Anne began, her face friendly with a bright pearly smile upon her lips; her genuine happiness even apparent in her sapphire coloured eyes. 'You look most lovely. Always so very well dressed, don't you agree Mary?' Mary's look had faltered from a cordial grin to one of deep scorn. So Henriette had indeed not been forgiven.
'I suppose so, but one cannot help but to notice how worn out the ermine and velvet are! It's almost as if she's chosen to wear an old dress upon her first day at court.' Mary seethed. Henriette sucked in a deep breath, reminding herself that this was just Mary's manner, and that she was likely very deserving of her nastiness after her brashness earlier in the day.
