So I did not know what had been decided.

The Admiral was to leave for France and we gave a banquet on his departure. I was seated at the table on the dais with him on my right hand. The talk had been formal. Henry seemed a little more affable. I could still look more attractive than most women, in spite of my anxieties, and when I noticed his rather covert looks of approval, my spirits rose a little.

We talked of the Admiral's departure, and Henry asked me if I had said farewell to Gontier, the Admiral's chief secretary.

When I replied that I had not, he said: “I will go and fetch him.”

For Henry to go and fetch a secretary was most surprising. I could not understand, for the moment, why he did not send someone in search of him. Then I saw him leave the hall, and almost immediately his mistress slipped out after him.

I could not help it. The tension seemed to snap. He had gone out to be with her. I thought of how he used to pursue me, and suddenly I began to laugh. It was terrible laughter but I could not stop it.

The Admiral looked very annoyed, for people were glancing our way.

Then he said in a very cold voice: ”Do you mock me, Madam?”

“Oh no, no,” I cried. “It is nothing to do with you, Admiral. I was laughing because the King has just met a lady, and the thought of everything else has gone out of his head.”

Still, I could not stop laughing. The Admiral stared coldly in front of him.

I was trying very hard to fight down the hysterical laughter. I was terrified that it would turn to tears.

I saw Henry later. I asked him if he had passed a pleasant time with his mistress.

“You should look to your tongue, Madam,” he said.

How right he was! But I could not restrain myself. I knew I was being foolish but I went on being so. If only I could have faced the situation for what it was and planned calmly.

“Your treatment of the Admiral was not very well received,” I said. “It was a pity your passion made you forget your duty to your guest.”

He turned to me and I saw the hatred clearly in his eyes. I thought: He feels toward me as he did toward Katharine.

How could it have happened so soon?

There were plans in his eyes. How well I knew him! That pursed-up mouth which could be so pious-looking when he was planning acts of cruelty. The little eyes gazing to Heaven, making his case so that it would win divine approval.

Instinctively I knew that he was planning to be rid of me as surely as he had planned to be rid of Katharine.

I was trembling with fear.

I said ironically: “Have I Your Grace's leave to retire?”

“It is most gladly given,” he growled.

My spirits were lifted a little when I heard that François's request for Mary's hand was refused by Henry on the grounds that she was illegitimate; instead he had offered Elizabeth for the Duc de'Angoulême, a younger son of François.

I saw George a great deal at this time. He was my true friend. My father's attitude toward me had grown quite cold. Norfolk had never shown much warmth. They were turning against me since I was falling from favor. Mary, of course, was her old self but she had always been ineffectual. Still, it was nice to have sisterly affection. She had come to Court some little time before, and occasionally I saw my stepmother and she was as loving as ever. I liked to have my family about me.

I had my admirers still. They were faithful. Brereton, Norris, Wyatt were constantly in my company, all expressing devotion to me. It was such a comfort in this changing climate.

George was with us, but he and I talked alone whenever we could. He could be a little somber sometimes, for he was well aware of the King's changing attitude toward me.

“You will have to walk very warily,” he warned me. “For so long he has been behaving like a besotted lover. It is different now. The tame pet can become a wild beast. Anger and resentment are smoldering there… ready to burst out.”

“I know it,” I replied.

“No one would dare speak to you as I do, Anne. It worries me. You could be in danger.”

“I know he is unfaithful. He has become tired of me. How could it happen so quickly, George?”

George was thoughtful. Then he said: “There must be utter frankness between us two. He has worked himself into a dangerous position. It was a bold move to break with Rome.”

“François, who seemed to support us, seems to be turning right around. The French have been so affable to me. Now they are aloof.”

“You do not put your trust in monarchs, Anne. They go whichever way is most beneficial to them. It suited François to stand for Henry because that was against Charles. But this is different. This is standing against the Roman Catholic world.”

“He did that for love of me.”

George looked at me sadly. “He desired you greatly, that's true. But he wanted to make sure of the succession.”

“There is Elizabeth. There was Mary.”

“Girls! He wanted a son… who would be like him… riding around the country, bluff, hearty, winning the love of the people.”

“Could not a woman do that?”

“Leading the troops in battle?”

“When has Henry last gone to war? When he did, his efforts were not marked by success.”

“Do not tell him that. You are too outspoken… too frank.”

“I know I am. Bur what am I going to do, George?”

“Get a son. He would never discard the mother of his son.”

“I see little of him. He has his mistress now. Oh God, George, do you think he will be with her as he was with me?”

“Anne,” he said, “you are the most fascinating woman at Court. You have a special allure. You must think of that. You must get a son. There is something I have to tell you. He has hinted to Cromwell that he wants a divorce.”

“From me!”

George lifted his shoulders. “Who else?”

“No, George!”

“Why not? He rid himself of Katharine…at what cost! It would be simpler with you. The Boleyns are not the Emperor Charles. The Pope would not stand out against it.”

“Then I am doomed.”

He shook his head. “There is Cromwell. Cromwell has told him that he could divorce you easily…by declaring that his marriage to you was no true one. But that would entail one thing: he would have to take Katharine back. That he will never do.”

“Presumably I am the lesser evil.”

“Presumably. Don't worry. Cromwell is a clever fellow. He won't allow it to happen. If Henry went back to Katharine, he would soon be returning to Rome, and that would be the end of Cromwell. He has based his career on the break with Rome. Cromwell—for his own reasons—is your friend. Rejoice in that.”

“Sometimes, George, I am very frightened.”

“You'll come through if you can get a son. Then you would be safe. But you will have to accept his infidelities… just as Katharine did.”

“I am beginning to realize the patience of that woman.”

“She is the daughter of Isabella. Remember that. She has stood firm… unafraid. She is indeed a brave woman. In spite of everything, she has disconcerted Henry, and there are many throughout the country who support her. Anne, get a son. You must get a son. Therein lies your salvation.”

“These miscarriages…they were boys.”

“Perhaps you have been overanxious.”

“It may be.”

“Get him back somehow. Get a son. When you are pregnant, live more quietly. Give up this wild gaiety. You give an impression of indifference to the King's rising animosity. You flirt too much with men about you. It is noticed, and the King does not like it.”

“Even though he is no longer interested in me?”

“Even so. But he watches you sometimes and there is a glint in his eyes. He knows you are outstanding in the Court. You must find a way, Anne… soon. It is imperative.”

“I know. But at least he told François that Mary is illegitimate.”

“Yes, and offered Elizabeth to the younger son. That is only because she is so young and the Dauphin needs a bride soon.”

“Do you think François will accept Elizabeth?”

“I hope so. I pray so. Much will depend on it. If François refuses it will be tantamount to saying that he does not believe in her legitimacy. A great deal will depend on François's answer.”

“It is frightening.”

“I know. But we must face the truth, Anne. That is the only way we can continue to exist.”

“Thank you, George, you do me so much good.”

“Curb your temper. Remember when you are about to let it fly that you are dealing with a man who is very powerful and probably the most ruthless in the world. You have to forget the tender lover. He is not that any more. You must stop thinking of him as the man who pursued you and was ready to grant your every whim. He has changed, and not only to you. There was a time when he was a kind and courteous husband to Katharine; he loved Mary; true he strayed now and then, but no more than was to be expected. He had certain codes; religion and morals meant something to him. People do change. Events change them. And there have been some notable events in the life of this King. They brutalize. Think of his conduct to Queen Katharine and the Princess Mary.”

“I have said he was too soft with them.”

“You are thinking only of what you want. Consider a husband who has tired of a wife who has done nothing but good. Her only fault is that she is older than he is and is no longer attractive to him. You come on the scene; you refuse to be his mistress, so he schemes and plots and juggles with his conscience. He would get rid of that wife of all those years, repudiate her, and when she refuses to go into a convent she lives like a prisoner under house arrest. What anguish he has caused. And his daughter Mary—a girl brought up to believe herself Princess of England, now deprived of all her rights and separated from her mother…”