The Other Boleyn Girl

The first three jousts were among the lower men of the court, hoping to attract attention by risking their necks. They were skilled enough, there were a couple of exciting passes, and one good moment when the smaller man unhorsed a bigger rival which made the common people cheer. The little man dismounted and took off his helmet to acknowledge the applause. He was handsome, slight and fair-haired. Anne nudged me. ‘Who’s that?’

‘Only one of the Seymour boys.’

The queen turned her head. ‘Mistress Carey, would you go and ask the master of the horse when my husband is riding today and what horse he has chosen?’

I turned to do her bidding, and I saw why she was sending me away. The king was coming slowly across the grass towards our pavilion and she wanted me out of his way. I curtsied and dawdled to the doorway, timing my departure so that he saw me hesitating under the awning. At once he excused himself from a conversation and hurried over. His armour was polished bright as silver, the trimming on it was gold. The leather straps holding his breastplate and armguards were red and smooth as velvet. He looked taller, a commanding hero from long-ago wars. The sun shining on him made the metal burn with light so that I had to step back into the shade and put my hand up to my eyes.

‘Mistress Carey, in Lincoln green.’

‘You are all bright,’ I said.

‘You would be dazzling if you were in the darkest of blacks.’

I said nothing. I just looked at him. If Anne or George had been close by they could have prompted me with some compliment. But I was empty of wit, it was all crowded out by desire. I could say and do nothing but just look at him and know that my face was full of longing. And he said nothing too. We stood, gazes locked, intently interrogating each other’s faces as if we might understand the other’s desire from his eyes.

‘I must see you alone,’ he said finally.

I did not coquet. ‘Your Majesty, I cannot.’

‘You don’t want to?’

‘I dare not.’

He took in a deep breath at that, as if he would sniff out lust itself. ‘You could trust me.’

I tore my eyes from his face and looked away, seeing nothing. ‘I dare not,’ I said again simply.

He reached out and took my hand to his lips and kissed it. I could feel the warmth of his breath on my fingers and, at last, the gentle stroke of the curls of his moustache.

‘Oh, soft.’

He looked up from my hand. ‘Soft?’

‘The touch of your moustache,’ I explained. ‘I have been wondering how it felt.’

‘You have been wondering how my moustache felt?’ he asked.

I could feel my cheeks growing warm. ‘Yes.’

‘If you were kissed by me?’

I dropped my gaze to my feet so that I should not see the brightness of his blue eyes, and gave a little imperceptible nod.

‘You have been wishing to be kissed by me?’

I looked up at that. ‘Your Majesty, I have to go,’ I said desperately. ‘The queen sent me on an errand and she will wonder where I am.’

‘Where did she bid you go?’

‘To your master of horse, to find out what horse you are riding and when you are to ride.’

‘I can tell her that myself. Why should you walk around in the burning sun?’

I shook my head. ‘It’s no trouble to me to go for her.’

He made a little tutting noise. ‘And she has servants enough to run around the jousting green, God knows. She has a full Spanish retinue while I am begrudged my little court.’

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Anne coming through the hangings of the queen’s room and freeze as she saw the king and me close together.

Gently he released me. ‘I shall go to see her now and answer her questions about my horses. What will you do?’

‘I’ll come in a moment,’ I said. ‘I need to take a little moment before I go back in, I feel all …’ I broke off at the impossibility of describing what I was feeling.

He looked at me tenderly. ‘You’re very young to be playing this game, aren’t you? Boleyn or no Boleyn. They’ll be telling you what to do and putting you in my way, I suppose.’

I would have confessed to the family’s plot to ensnare him but for Anne, waiting in the shadows of the jousting tent. With her watching me, I just shook my head. ‘It’s no game to me.’ I looked away, I let my lip tremble. ‘I promise you, it’s no game to me, Your Majesty.’

His hand came up, he took my chin and turned my face towards him. For one breathless moment I thought with dread and with delight that he was going to kiss me, in front of everyone.

‘Are you afraid of me?’

I shook my head and resisted the temptation to turn my face to his hand. ‘I am afraid of what may happen.’

‘Between us?’ He smiled, the confident smile of a man who knows that the woman he desires is only moments away from his arms. ‘Nothing bad will come to you for loving me, Mary. You can have my word on it, if you like. You will be my mistress, you will be my little queen.’

I gasped at that potent word.

‘Give me your scarf, I want to wear your favour while I joust,’ he said suddenly.

I looked around. ‘I can’t give it to you here.’

‘Send it to me,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell George to come to you, give it to him. I won’t wear it so it shows. I’ll tuck it into my breastplate. I’ll wear it against my heart.’

I nodded.

‘So you give me your favour?’

‘If you wish,’ I whispered.

‘I wish it so much,’ he said. He bowed and turned towards the entrance of the queen’s tent. My sister Anne had disappeared like a helpful ghost.

I gave them all a few minutes and then I went back into the tent myself. The queen gave me a sharp interrogatory look. I sank into a curtsey. ‘I saw the king coming to answer your questions himself, Your Majesty,’ I said sweetly. ‘So I came back.’

‘You should have sent a servant in the first place,’ the king said abruptly. ‘Mistress Carey should not be running round the jousting ground in this sun. It’s far too hot.’

The queen hesitated for only a moment. ‘I am so sorry,’ she said. ‘It was thoughtless of me.’

‘It’s not me you should apologise to,’ he said pointedly.