Le Temps Viendra: A Novel of Anne Boleyn by Sarah A. Morris

Author:Sarah A. Morris [Morris, Sarah A.]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Spartan Publishing
Published: 2012-05-25T23:00:00+00:00

Just as dusk was settling over Hever Castle, my mother and I arrived back to be greeted in its small Entrance Hall by our maids, Bess and Alice, who helped us remove our furs and other outer garments. As they were doing so, Bess spoke up, addressing her words to me.

‘Whilst you were away, Madame, a messenger arrived from the King. He was carrying a letter and a gift of a buck for the table. On the King’s orders, the messenger insisted that we lodge him here at the castle until your return, for I understand that the King’s Grace wishes to hear of your health directly from your own hand.’

In the last few weeks, away from Henry, I had reflected a good deal about the situation in which Anne found herself. Living and breathing every step of this historic love, I surprised myself by the strength of my own feelings towards Henry, whose presence by then, I craved more than I dare even admit to myself. I knew Anne to be intelligent, levelheaded and determined, yet she was also a woman who had fallen deeply in love with her Prince. Even at that early stage, in 1527, when the King was completely besotted with Anne, it was clear that a happy outcome was improbable; politically the stakes were too high and the passion too intense. My intuition told me to break free; but the expectations and ambitions of the Boleyn family made it ever more impossible to retreat; as did my ever deepening desire to be at Henry’s side. I had longed for a message from the King since returning to Hever from Greenwich, and I found myself dizzy with excitement when it at last arrived. Reluctant to show the depth of my feelings outwardly, I said to Bess calmly, and with a certain degree of feigned indifference,

‘Then you had best tarry no more and bring me the King’s letter in the parlour.’

Alone in the sitting room, by the flickering candlelight, I paced back and forth as I read the King’s words, which were scrawled elegantly across the crisp parchment.

My mistress and friend,

Although, my mistress, you have not been pleased to remember your promise when I was last with you, to let me hear news of you, I think it part of a true servant to enquire after his mistress’s health, and send you this, desiring to hear of your prosperity. I also send by the bearer a buck killed by me this very day, hoping when you eat of it you will think of the hunter.

In the meantime, I and my heart put ourselves in your hands. Let not absence lessen your affection; for it causes us more pain than I should ever have thought, reminding us of the point of astronomy that the longer the days are, the further off is the sun, and yet the best is all the greater. So it is with our love, which keeps its further in absence at least on our side.

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