And now here I was—experienced, understanding something of human nature, determined never to be hurt again, making sure that always my head should be in command of my heart, perhaps making a brilliant marriage. I was not sure about that. But at last I felt myself no longer vulnerable…I was well warned against the blows of misfortune. I could protect myself and the thought exhilarated me.
Moreover, I had discovered something. I could draw men to me in a rather inexplicable way. Mary's attraction was obvious. Someone had said it was promise. She displayed her delight in sexuality, and that was an immediate magnet. It brought her lovers in plenty—not always constant, but how many lovers were? My brother George was good-looking and had a great fondness for the opposite sex. It was natural that he should have considerable success with them. I was quite different. I had a certain aloofness, a disdain for men. I did not crave a lover; in fact, I was determined that there should be no dallying with me. One would have thought this would act as a deterrent, as I had seen it did in some others; but in me it was like a magnet. I seemed to challenge them. My looks were unusual. I was not pretty like Mary, nor did I have George's good looks. I was like a changeling. Dark, strange… with my Frenchified clothes and manners. But I had learned that what I had drew people to me.
So there I was, no longer suffering from the scars of a broken love affair, surrounded by a group of admirers, excelling in dancing and playing the lute, the center of attraction.
I reveled in this new situation, and following on my long exile it was particularly alluring. I was going to enjoy it.
And then suddenly I realized what was happening.
It was unlikely that the King would be unaware of one who was often to the fore in the festivities.
In the dance, where partners were exchanged from time to time, I found myself face-to-face with the King. He dominated the Court, of course, not only on account of his size. He scintillated. He took my hand and said: “It pleases me to see you at my Court, Mistress Boleyn.”
I bowed my head.
“Your Grace is kind.”
“I like to be kind…to those who please me.”
I lowered my eyes. My heart was beating wildly. There was no mistaking that expression. I had seen it before in those little blue eyes in the garden at Hever.
He was holding my hand firmly and smiling at me.
We danced and I was passed on to my next partner. I was very disturbed. I knew what was coming. He had finished with one sister and he would try the next.
“No,” I said to myself. “Never.”
I did not sleep very much that night. I tried to recreate in my mind that scene in the garden, recalling, as far as I could, every word that had been spoken. He had gone along with the play-acting for a while and then he had grown angry. I had offended him by feigning a headache. “Tell her she should not linger too long in the rays of the sun.” He had said something like that.
I will never submit, I told myself. And the result? Banishment. Back to life at Hever.
Well, that was better than being taken up for a while and then being discarded, as Mary had been. Was this why she had been given her congé? Perhaps he did not want to be engaged with two sisters at the same time.
I had to be prepared. I had to be strong.
It was not long before he made his intentions clear. He did not send for me, which he could easily have done, but he was aware that if it were known that he had summoned me to his presence there would be talk. He always deceived himself that members of the Court did not know of his actions, whereas they were never in doubt. It might be that already someone had interpreted the glances which he had sent my way and they were saying: So Anne Boleyn is to be the next. I imagined the chortles of amusement. Meet and fitting! Off with the elder sister first and then on with the younger.
But it should not be so.
He contrived to come upon me one day when I was alone in a chamber close to the Queen's apartments.
He was smiling, looking at me with those eyes, which seemed too small for his large face, shining so that they glinted like aquamarines, the little mouth which could at times look grim, slack, in a satisfied way.
“Ah,” he said. “Mistress Boleyn.”
“Your Grace,” I said, bowing.
He came toward me, overpowering, glittering, menacing to my mind.
“I have seen you at Court,” he said, “and it pleases me.”
“Your Grace is kind.”
“But it is not our first meeting, eh?”
“No, Your Grace.”
He pointed a finger at me in a jocular manner. “Our first meeting… I remember it well. You played a little trick on me.”
“Your Grace, I was young and foolish…”
“And you are so no longer? You are an added glory to our Court. Your voice delights me. I can hardly think of one who plays better on the lute.”
Now was the time to say that none could excel His Grace—but I did not.
I stood there, tense, wondering what I must do.
“Because your singing and playing have pleased me, I should like to show my pleasure. So I have brought this for you.” From his pocket he drew a necklace of diamonds and emeralds. He held it before me, his eyes shining with pleasure… his hands ready to clasp it around my neck.
I drew back. I said: “Your Grace overwhelms me with his kindness.”
“’ Tis but a trifle,” he said.“’ Tis nothing to what I do for those I care for.”
“My lord…my King …” I stammered, for I knew now what role I had to take. “Your bounty overwhelms me, but I cannot accept this gift.”
“Cannot accept it? What mean you?”
“Your Grace …” I lifted my eyes to his face fearfully, as well I might. The little eyes were beginning to cloud a little, the mouth was hardening. “I…I am a simple girl…I cannot accept such a gift…even from Your Highness. I could only take such jewels from the man who would be my husband.”
“This is nonsense.”
“My lord … it is what I have always believed. I could not in honor accept such a gift. I trust Your Grace will understand the feelings of a simple girl who has been brought up to respect her honor and preserve it until she shall bring it to her husband.”
He was bewildered. I looked at him in trepidation.
“Then,” he said, “I have been mistaken.” He thrust the necklace into his pocket and strode out of the room.
I was trembling. What now? I visualized being sent back to Hever. The Court life which I was beginning to enjoy, and which had done so much to lift me out of my melancholy, was over.
Perhaps I had been wrong. My father's advancement and that of George would be over. But I could not help it. I had to let him know that I was not like my sister and I was not prepared to demean myself for any man… not even the King.
I waited for the blow to fall. Nothing happened. I helped Thomas and George write the masque. I went about my duties in a daze, expecting every day to be told I must leave the Court. Then I began to think that he had forgotten the incident. It had not been of any great importance to him. If only that were true. But I noticed him at the festivities; he would sit, frowning every now and then, and I would find his eyes following me.
Once we were partners in the dance as we had been before. “You flouted me,” he said. “It is not the first time.”
“I humbly beg Your Grace's pardon,” I said quietly, “but I must be true to my principles.”