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Thomas, to his credit, was writing poetry and staying out of Anne’s way. One day he slipped a poem to me. “I’ve written it for both of us,” he said. I raised my eyebrow expecting further explanation but he pressed it into my hand and said, “You’ll see what I mean.”

I took it to my chamber and read it.

Whoso list to hunt, I know where is an hind

But as for me, alas, I may no more.

The vain travail hath wearied me so sore,

I am of them that furthest come behind.

Yet may I by no means my wearied mind

Draw from the deer, but as she fleeth afore

Fainting I follow; I leave off therefore,

Since in a net I seek to hold the wind.

Who list her hunt, I put him out of doubt,

As well as I, may spend his time in vain.

And graven with diamonds in letters plain

There is written, her fair neck about:

Noli me tangere, for Caesar’s I am,

And wild for to hold, though I seem tame.

Touch me not. Noli me tangere. I belong to Another.

In January the king sent Thomas on a diplomatic mission to Italy. I would miss him but understood it was best, and safest, for all.

My father, knowing nothing of the king’s distrust of Thomas, celebrated Thomas’s unexpected appointment as a diplomat with a dance at Allington Castle. Anne was unable to take leave of the court and, as this was a smallish affair, there would be no king nor many courtiers, mostly Kent gentry. My sister, Alice, was coming. My father had written to tell me that my husband, Baron Blackston, was well enough to attend.

Alice and I got ready in the same chamber though I would share the baron’s chamber for sleep once he arrived. She shook out my gown and instructed Flora to go to another room to get some ribbon. “Are you…. prepared?” she asked when Flora had taken her leave.

I nodded. “My mother talked to me of marriage afore she passed away, God rest her,” I said. “Though I cannot say I am eager. I wish I could forgo this portion of my duty.”

She nodded sympathetically. She’d told me once that although the act was for procreation, and that although she and Master Rogers had procreated quite enough, she also enjoyed it for the intimacy and pleasure. I am certain she had not confessed that to anyone but me, and perhaps her daughters, as conjugal enjoyment was frowned upon. But a sister was a sister, after all. I noticed she didn’t suggest that I may enjoy the act with the baron. She knew I wouldn’t. But she knew my duty as well as my station as a woman required me to follow through.

I was seated next to him at dinner and he was able to keep up a conversation about our home, Haverston Hall. We had exchanged some letters over the past few months, mainly impersonal letters of duty with small bits of news, court news from me, country news from him. He said he was not yet strong enough to dance and I noticed him breathing heavily.

“I confess a curiosity to see Haverston,” I told him. And I did. It was my home and I was the lady of the manor and I wondered what it would be like to command and care for a staff in a home that was not my father’s.

“I will be visiting my other properties for the spring, my lady Baroness, after my three days here are complete. It will be an arduous journey of many months, not fit for a lady, as there are a dozen or more of them I must attend to. Simon,” he said, looking in the direction of his nephew, “contends that he is not able to undertake the journey for me this year as he has other duties to attend to. So I must undertake the task myself.”

I accepted that. It wasn’t odd for husbands and wives to be separated for long periods whilst one or the other was at court, or about the king’s business, or attending to the vast holdings of the nobility or even the middling ones of the gentry.

“When my travels are completed,” he continued, “I look forward to your joining me at Haverston, as indeed I look forward to your joining me tonight.”

He gave me a look that told me he was talking about exactly what I suspected he was.

I stayed at dinner and dance longer than the baron, as Alice and I shared hostessing duties. Truth be told, I stayed as long as I reasonably could, delaying the inevitable. My brother’s wife, Elizabeth, and his young son, Thomas, had not come for the event, which was noted by all. When I finally found the courage to shroud myself in a high-necked white shift and make my way to my husband’s bedchamber, he was fast asleep. I could not wake him, and for a moment, I thought he was dead.

“Meredith!” I called down the hall to the lady servant who had come with him. “My Lord Blackston wakes not.”

“’Tis normal, My Lady,” she said dismissively, the longtime servant to the short-time wife. “He sleeps deeply.” I found it strange that she was still fully dressed at that hour. I shook my head, though grateful for the reprieve. He had seemed so determined to, ah, keep company.

The second night I steeled myself to do my duty and went to join him earlier and he was already asleep, again. He made no comment about it during the day and, in fact, seemed discomfited to discuss it when I mentioned his deep sleep. He made reference to being older and still recovering and brushed the topic aside and yielded to a wet, tight cough that plagued many each January. That night when I went to talk with the musicians I heard them discussing the baron’s inabilities, so I knew the staff were gossiping.

On the third night, the night ere he was to return to Haverston, I made my way to my chamber to change when I saw Meredith slipping out of Baron Blackston’s rooms, empty cup in hand. She made her way down the dark hall, opened the door not to her own room, but to Simon’s, and slipped in. I heard laughter before the door was firmly shut. When I went to see the baron some short time later he was already firmly asleep.

If I had been praying still, I would have prayed a prayer of thanksgiving. As it was, I felt like a stubborn child not even offering a small token of appreciation to our Lord for helping me escape this unwelcome obligation for now. My attitude shamed me.

Lord Blackston prepared to take his leave the next day. He kissed me good-bye, once on each cheek. “I will call for you, My Lady, when I am done with my journeys…. and when I am in better health and able to be a husband as I should.” He would not look me in the eye as he took his leave. I was still a maiden, though I did not speak of it to anyone so as not to shame my husband.

I suspect others knew, though. Servants always inspect the bed linens.

EIGHT

Year of Our Lord 1527

Greenwich Palace

Allington Castle

Hever Castle

Hampton Court Palace

When I returned to the court a week or more later it was immediately apparent that spring had arrived early. The court was humid with the bond between Anne and the king.

The court musicians began to play the composers she preferred.

The king was seen reading books written in French.

In March, when the king hunted, he ensured that the finest stag was cleaned, dressed, and roasted, and the tenderest portion sent to Anne. The season’s first joust was held then too. We all gathered in the covered tiltyard, the ladies seated near one another in their finest dresses, the queen toward the center. I settled in next to Anne and raised my eyebrows at her ruby dress made of rare sarcenet with a square-cut bodice. The kirtle underneath, exposed by slashing, was shot through with royal gold thread. Either Sir Thomas had made the acquaintance of a generous clothier in Paris or there was another sponsor for these expensive gowns.