“And do you?”

I laughed loudly and checked myself. No hysteria. The plan was so wild it might not succeed. But I was desperate and it was worth a try.

“Madge,” I went on earnestly, “for my sake I want you to take the King away from his mistress. It is time he began to be tired of her. It is very important to me that he ceases to soften toward Katharine and Mary. It is of even greater importance that I get a son.”

“But surely you only have to tell him this…”

I shook my head. “That would not be the way. This might be. Cousin, I am asking too much. Forgive me. But I thought you would do a great deal for me.”

“I would,” she replied earnestly. “I would do anything.”

I saw the excitement begin to dawn in her eyes. The King was the King. He was still handsome, and power sets a mighty aura about a man. Most girls would be flattered to be noticed by him. She would have to perform her part well; and he could be courteous and charming enough when he was attempting seduction.

“You will win my eternal gratitude,” I said. “Do you want to think about it?”

She nodded.

“Then please do. And remember: this is between us two.”

“I swear it shall go no further,” she said.

Jane Rochford was very excited.

“The King is no longer seeing his mistress so frequently.”

“Oh, is he not?” I asked languidly.

“There is another.” She looked at me with satisfaction.

“Oh yes, I suppose there would be.”

“You would never guess who.”

“Tell me.”

“It is really rather funny. Who would have thought it? She seemed so quiet. The King is in hot pursuit. It is our cousin, Madge Shelton.”

“Well, she is a very attractive girl.”

“Don't you mind? To think that a member of our family…”

“It has to be someone, I suppose.”

“You take it calmly.”

“How else could I take it?”

“George was with you a long time last night.”

“We were talking.”

“I was on the point of coming in.”

“You would not do that unless invited.”

“I knew I shouldn't be invited. I'm not clever enough. George always implies that.”

I did not answer. I was thinking of Madge.

I saw her later. She had changed. She was now the King's mistress. I marveled at a devotion which had made her go so far. It had seemed such a wild plan and yet it was working.

“Does he talk much…of affairs of Court?” I asked.

“He talked about Katharine and Mary.”

“They are much on his mind.”

“He says they have caused him grievous suffering.”

“I hope you were sympathetic.”

“Oh yes. I said it was wrong that any should harm the King. He has so much to think of… affairs of state… matters of the Court. Everyone should do their best to give him peace.”

“As you do.”

“Yes, as I do. I said I thought it was wrong of Katharine and Mary to be in such close touch with Chapuys. He said he supposed I heard gossip about the Court. I told him I did and he asked me one or two things. I don't think he likes Katharine and Mary quite as much as he did.”

“And did he mention me?”

She nodded, smiling. “I told him how much I loved you and how kind you had always been to me, how wonderful you were, and that I was afraid I imitated you in so many ways. And he said, ‘Well, there is no one like the Queen.’ He looked soft for a while and then he went on: ‘She has a sharp tongue.’ I replied that it was really because you were so honest. You did not stop to think what advantage would come to you for saying this and that. You spoke freely and you were quick tempered, but you were so merry quickly afterward and how much more exciting it was to be with people when you did not know exactly what to expect from them. Then he said: ‘You are a staunch advocate of the Queen,’ and I said, ‘So would Your Grace be if…’ Then I clapped my hands to my mouth and I said ‘Forgive me, sire, I spoke without thinking.’ He laughed and said: ‘Like her, eh?’ And he seemed to speak of you with some fondness.”

Oh dear little cousin Madge, I thought. It could work. It was not a crazy scheme after all.

It did not take the King long to tire of Madge, but so well had she done her work that even before her time was over he was looking toward me. I think he had come to regard her as a pale shadow of myself.

When we were hawking, he was close to me. He spoke a few words in a most pleasant manner and when I replied gently he seemed pleased.

We progressed from there, and within a week or so my old enemies were looking glum. Some of them obviously thought they had been a little premature.

One day he said to me: “There is none like you. No matter who…I would always find myself coming back…to Anne.”

In the old days such a comment would have enraged me. I should have replied that I was not waiting on his pleasure. Now, I smiled as though contented. I had to get a son.

So we were together again, and it was almost as it had been in the first days of our marriage.

Although that was not so very long ago, I had grown up a good deal since then. I had begun to understand him better. He was completely selfish and could be very cruel indeed, and it was odd that his cruelty grew out of his assumed piety. I often compared him with François. François's lasciviousness and his determination to satisfy his carnal desires had stood in his way of becoming a great king. With Henry his actions had to be justified; he had his conscience to consider. It had to be placated, and this could only be done by putting himself right in the eyes of Heaven; that often meant treating those about him with complete ruthlessness. If he wanted to rid himself of me, as he had Katharine, he would not admit to himself that he was tired of me, and I had not, after all the trouble, brought him the desired son, which was the truth; it would have to be a concern of his conscience because of a possible pre-contract with the Earl of Northumberland. He wanted to say, I was not truly married to her. It was a mistake. But any solution which meant taking back Katharine was out of the question for him. Perhaps, as George had pointed out, I owed something to Katharine.

In the past I had been confident of my power to lure him to me, and I now believed that, in spite of the fact that I had grown thinner and older and had suffered disappointment in childbed, that power was still mine.

And it seemed so, for he had come back.

It was not long before I could tell him the joyful news. I was pregnant. I was wildly happy. This time it must be a son.

Now he was the devoted husband, solicitous of me, talking constantly of the arrival of the Boy.

I was very interested in the new religion which was being taken up in Germany and the Low Countries, and I was reading all I could about it. I interested him in it and we would spend enjoyable hours discussing it together. I would read something and hurry to tell him about it. He enjoyed this, for he had an alert mind.

I was full of confidence. Once I had my son, I could feel safe.

That was a year of tragedy.

It seemed I was not to have my child. I was following in the steps of Katharine. I was filled with melancholy when I miscarried.

“Why? Why?” I demanded. I had taken the utmost care. I had so desperately wanted…so desperately needed this child.

The King was bitterly disappointed. He could see that I was useless to him.

But something seemed to touch him. He could be sentimental at times, and that softened him.

“We'll have boys yet,” he said, and nothing could have comforted me more at that time.

It was a disastrous year.

People talked of nothing but the Oath of Supremacy which had to be accepted by all. Those who did not accept it, did so at their peril.

At the end of the previous year, Parliament had conferred on Henry the title of Supreme Head of the Church, and it was declared to be High Treason to deny the title.

It was too much to hope that there would not be some who rebelled.

The King's fury was intense. Fisher and More were in the Tower. The King sent Cromwell to ask for More's opinion of the new statutes. More was a lawyer, and his opinion would be worth having, for if he agreed with them he would carry many with him. More was perhaps the most respected man in England. Learned, deeply religious, a good and moral man, he was above bribery and corruption. If he would be prepared to give his approval to the statutes, it was certain that many would do the same. The King must get that approval.

“Were they not lawful?” demanded Cromwell of him.

More's reply was that he was a loyal subject of the King and he could say no more than that.

When Cromwell returned to the King, Henry abused him. He was like that with Cromwell. But Cromwell stood by, patiently humble, smiling, waiting for the abuse to cease and letting the insults pass over his head.

He tried More again, with the same results.

The King cried out in a pained voice: “I have given my friendship to that man, and now he refuses this little I ask.”

More's reply was that he was the King's servant, but God's first.

What could one do with such a man? He disturbed Henry, making it difficult for him to reconcile his conscience, which was one of the greatest offenses a man or woman could commit.

On the Continent affairs in England were closely watched. Henry was isolating himself, and that made him uneasy.

The Pope had sent word that Fisher had been made a Cardinal. This was clearly meant to aggravate Henry, for Fisher was in the Tower. Like More, he had refused to accept the Oath of Supremacy.