Between Two Kings (16 page)

Anne was astounded. She had never heard that François had skated on the very edge of thin ice, so near his death. Somehow, she was astounded at his frankness and that made her feel more disposed towards him. “I am sorry that Your Majesty and your sons had to suffer so much at the hands of the emperor.”

“It was the turning point for me as the King of France. It taught me many valuable lessons.”

His gaze searched her, but she averted her eyes. “I can only imagine.”

“Lady Anne, as I said, I want to make a deal with you,” François said straightforwardly, feeling that the moment for his proposal had arrived.

The last sentence returned Anne to reality. She stared at him, her face like a mask of iron. “What do you mean, Your Majesty?”

He drew a finger through his hair. “Maybe you know that my second marriage to the emperor’s sister was annulled by the pope.”

Anne nodded. “Yes, I do know.”

François smiled with an easy smile. “Now I want to marry you. I hope you don’t object.” As he didn’t want to scare her, his voice was quiet and silky. “I am sure you will be a brilliant wife to me,” he added, his lips lengthening into a smile.

The king’s announcement was like the stab of a sword in Anne’s heart. She expelled a long breath and then stared at François. After a minute of confusion and embarrassment, Anne spoke. “Your Majesty, I am sorry…”

“This marriage is a sort of a bargain. It is a matter of politics,” he enlightened shortly.

Anne’s eyes grew wide. She swallowed hard, feeling how her heart was hammering so hard from anxiety that it was nearly bursting through her basque. “A matter of politics?” she echoed.

François let out an elfin laugh, and a row of straight white teeth showed. “A matter of politics and mutual benefit for both of us,” he enlightened and glanced right into her eyes. He held the gaze of those shimmering blue eyes he had remembered for a long time, since Anne’s early youth. Her eyes were almost hypnotic, and he sought to break the spell of them by looking away, but an invisible hand redirected his gaze back to her face and to her eyes.

François explained to Anne his reasoning and plan. It was crafty and sophisticated, very well-thought through and rational. The more he talked, the more Anne realized how logical his proposal was. The King of France was a practical and intelligent man and seemed to have thought about the matter well in advance before he had asked her to marry him.

After François was gone, Anne’s mind whirled through many thoughts and questions. She thought hard on his proposal. Now she had a chance to become the Queen of France, though she would be an uncrowned queen for a while, before her name was finally cleared from the wretched lies in England. And if her name were not cleared, what would she do? Would François cast her aside and annul his marriage to her if her name remained in ruins forever?

Would that really be her fate? Anne had escaped from the King of England and the danger of a terrible death at the stake, at Henry’s own orders, and now would she be caught by another king – the King of France? She tried so hard not to think of her past and pain. She only wanted to remember her children, her mother Elizabeth and Mary, her eldest sister, Henry Percy and, probably, her father. She wanted to forget King Henry and his cruelty because every time her mind drifted back to her ex-husband, the wounds of her heart torn open again. She was afraid, and she was tired of living in constant fear. She didn’t want to play the games of the court where loyalty and stability sounded like a joke. She was tired of cold politics, crafty stabs in the courtiers’ backs, a poisonous cobweb of intrigues, and exorbitant ambitions.

Anne also remembered her sister, Lady Mary Boleyn Stafford, who had been King François’ paramour many years ago. Mary had been quickly enamored with the handsome King of France and forgot everything in his arms. She fell in love with François and for some time even thought the feelings were mutual, but she was mistaken because her lover discarded her without any second thought. Mary was disgraced and heartbroken. The evil feelings – contempt and disgust – ripened in Anne’s heart as she remembered that the King of France referred to her sister Mary as “
the English mare
” and as “
a great whore, infamous above all
”. When she had heard that many years ago, Anne had hated François with all her heart.

Anne had heard rumors that Mary Boleyn was called the greatest whore by one of the French courtiers. In response, François had laughed and said that she had been eager to sleep with kings on either side of the channel. It could have been only rumors, but it infuriated Anne. Over time, her anger had subsided, and she tended to disregard the past.

However, now her own life could be entwined with François’, the unpleasant facts about Mary’s affair with him again became important. What could Anne expect from François? Would he call her “
his English mare
”? Would he tell his friends in private that he had married the harlot who slept with two kings? Or would he invent something new, more eccentric and especial for her? Yet, many years had passed, and King François had matured since that time. She also had changed and maybe her fears were exaggerated.

Most importantly, Anne wanted to have her revenge on King Henry for his cruelty and barbarity to her and their children. She was no longer Henry’s wife because he had annulled their marriage in May 1536, almost immediately after her imprisonment. He had bastardized their daughter Elizabeth and refused to even look at his son Arthur. King Henry wanted Anne Boleyn dead, and what the king wanted he got.

Anne Boleyn was technically dead, whereas the new Anne Boleyn was very different. The new Anne Boleyn was a cold and dispassionate woman, and she wanted justice and revenge. She embodied herself not only as the dying-and-rising Goddess Persephone, but also the remorseless Goddess Nemesis. She wanted to be the balancer of justice and the distributor of fortune in due proportion to Henry, according to what he deserved.

Besides, Anne had already tasted power in England. And if someone had held power once, it was very hard to refuse and backtrack it later. Marriage to the King of France was dangerous. She didn’t want to become the Queen of France – François offered it by himself. Yet, that marriage was less hazardous in another aspect: Anne didn’t love François. If she didn’t love him, she would be able to look at the situation with an open mind. She wouldn’t be blinded by love and passion, and François would help her clear her name. Indeed, it would be a marriage of mutual benefit for each of them, and nothing more.

Queen Catherine once told Anne that King Henry would eventually tire of her, like he had of all the others. At that moment, Anne had laughed humorlessly at Catherine’s words, and eventually fate laughed at her. Anne had been foolish enough to disregard Catherine’s clever warning. Instead, she ignored it and failed.

Her marriage to François would be a different thing. As she didn’t love him, it would be relatively easy for her to disregard his future infidelity and other non-ideal aspects of a royal marriage. In addition, François would be less likely to tire of her if he found she could be useful to him. Finally, François was a very handsome man, and Anne didn’t think that a marriage to him would be too awful.

Anne was convinced that François would have many mistresses if they married. After all, he was the King of France who had a reputation for being a notorious womanizer who considered whoring pleasure a daily sport, like hunting and wrestling. François frequently boasted of his special “
petite bande
” of attractive females, and no doubt many of those women had already been under the king’s bedcovers.

François was also known to be involved in countless casual love affairs with expensive courtesans and even with cheap whores. Although Anne admitted that a part of the king’s amorous glory had probably been exaggerated, she still didn’t doubt that François was a pleasure-seeker, which was a normal feature for the courtiers of the greatest cultural and artistic European court with the lax morality that prevailed there.

She remembered that the French King himself had verbally declared on multiple occasions that “
the court without ladies was like a year without springtime, or a spring without roses
”, or that “
the court without ladies was like a garden without flowers
.” She’d heard those words when she accompanied Queen Claude of France at one of the banquets many years ago. If she married François, she would become the wife of a man who played with fire and was aflame for the ladies. But as Anne didn’t love him she wouldn’t care how many extramarital affairs he would have and how often he would acknowledge his new 
maîtresses en titre
. In any case, she wouldn’t throw tantrums of jealousy at him in front of the French court because she didn’t love him and because she learned had a great lesson in England.

Maybe the tragic outcome of Anne and Henry’s romance was a sort of punishment for being so proud and so arrogant, as well as so assured that Henry would love her forever. Maybe it also was a punishment for treating Catherine’s daughter Mary so poorly. Anne admitted to herself that she pitied Catherine for sharing a similar fate with herself, but her fate had been even worse than Catherine’s. At the same time, Anne knew that she had also respected Catherine for holding on to her dignity till the very end. She asked herself whether she would have acted otherwise toward Mary and Catherine if she had been given another chance.

She didn’t regret the birth of Elizabeth; she would do everything in her power to protect her child and place it ahead of other royal offspring in the line of succession to the throne. She was Anne Boleyn and she couldn’t behave otherwise. In the meantime, she wondered if she had treated Mary too harshly and if she could have done more for Catherine, at least on her deathbed. She truly didn’t know and didn’t have a certain answer. She was confused.

Anne agreed with François’ reasoning that if everything worked well, the French common people would perceive her as a martyr and the king’s savior. The common people of England would also think much better of her as soon as they learnt that she had been innocent of all the charges brought against her by Cromwell. She also had to prove herself useful to the King of France, and she knew that she was capable of that. She considered herself quite capable of understanding politics and giving political recommendations, even of a minor nature. If she were useful to François, he would be less likely to cast her aside. This time she would be more cautious as she had learned from her past mistakes in England.

François came to Anne again in three days. She knew that she had to give him an answer. She still hesitated. There were too many thoughts in her head. How would her marriage to François influence her children whom she had left behind in England? Was the potential gain worth the risk? Could she accept his marriage proposal?

Finally, she concluded that it would be better to become allies with King François. Surely, it would be better than spending the rest of her life in obscurity, without any opportunity to influence her fate and take her revenge on Henry. Looking at the King of France, Anne knew that she couldn’t delay giving her answer.

François stared at her, his face expressionless. “Anne, will you marry me?”

Anne noticed that he addressed her as Anne, not as Lady Anne or Madame Anne. Probably he decided that she would accept his proposal and stopped being formal, being trapped. A million of thoughts raced through her mind. What should she answer? No, she couldn’t miss that opportunity.

“Yes, I will,” Anne said in a suffocated whisper.

François smiled at her. “I am delighted to hear it. We will be great allies.”

“Your Majesty, if we lose, what will happen to me?”

François laughed. “Anne, Cromwell’s downfall is a matter of time. We will just accelerate it, and I have a plan.”

“His Majesty King Henry is trying to persuade himself that I was guilty. He always tries to convince himself not to feel guilty. It is in his nature,” Anne pointed out.

“I understand it, Anne, but his sort of blindness can be cured,” François assured.

Anne shrugged in uncertainty. “I hope so.”

François rose from his seat and came to her. He took her hands in his. “Anne, even if we both lose and your name isn’t cleared, you will still be treated as the king’s savior and a hero who inspired the French to struggle against the emperor.” He squeezed her hand tighter. “And if we lose, I will officially announce that I married Madame Anne Gabrielle Marguerite de Ponthieu.”

Anne raised her brows in astonishment. “A marriage under a secret identity?”

He nodded. “Yes, in the worst case. Of course, in this case I will never confirm who you are.” Then he smiled. “But we won’t need it because we will win.”

Anne smiled at him. She wanted to share his confidence. “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

As Anne smiled, François thought that it was the most beautiful and enchanting smile in the world. He was mesmerized. He could see only that smile at that moment, and all other things evaporated from his mind.

CHAPTER 8

Venice, Republic of Venice, 1537

Cardinal François de Tournon stared at King François in disbelief. He was sure that he had misheard when the King of France told him that he would marry Madame Anne de Ponthieu, in reality Lady Anne Boleyn.

“Your Majesty, are you indeed going to marry Lady Anne?” Cardinal de Tournon asked.

King François shook his head. “Yes.”

“Did she accept your proposal?”

“She did,” the king replied shortly.

“Your Majesty, I am sorry for asking, but are you sure that it is the best decision to marry Lady Anne?” Tournon asked anxiously. “Lady Anne Boleyn is assumed to be dead. Are you going to marry Madame Anne de Ponthieu, not Lady Anne Boleyn?”

“I am going to marry simply Lady Anne, or Madame Anne. My bride’s name will be kept secret until I find it acceptable to publicly disclose it,” François explained. “Even my children and my sister don’t need to know about it at this point.”

“Your Majesty, do you suppose that we won’t make any public announcement at all?”

The king gave a nod. “We will declare that I married in Venice, but without any reference to my wife’s name. So far everything will be confidential. We have enough reasons for secrecy. There were several assassination attempts on my life, and the official reason will be that our secrecy aims to protect the life of my queen.”

“It sounds a plausible explanation for the world.”

“Yes, Your Eminence.”

The cardinal was quiet for a moment. “Your Majesty, I understand that there are many political reasons for you to marry Lady Anne, but the benefits from this marriage will materialize in full measure only if her name in England is cleared from these false charges.”

François smiled. Tournon had verbalized his own thoughts. “I know, Your Eminence. I am planning to help Lady Anne re-establish her name in England.”

“Your Majesty, how will you do it, if I may ask?”

“I have many interesting thoughts.” His gaze turned more intense. “Cromwell is responsible for these ridiculous charges.”

“Undoubtedly, Cromwell engineered the plan of Lady Anne’s downfall.”

The king issued a transcendental smile. “Once it is proved that Lady Anne is innocent, I will be able to publicly announce that I am married to Anne Boleyn. Given her innocence and her reputation as the king’s savior, it should be enough for the common people to accept her as their queen. They will adore her even more once they realize that she, an innocent victim of lies, was sentenced to death by her cruel husband King Henry, immediately after the birth of the king’s son. In this case, Lady Anne will be worshiped as a martyr in France and even in England.”

Tournon laughed outright. “Your Majesty, if your plans materialize and I am sure they will, Lady Anne may become the queen most loved in France and possibly even in England.”

François shook his head. “My marriage to Lady Anne is an important political step, but a risky one.” As he said that, he felt his heart begin to hammer harder and blood throb in his temples. He remembered her smile and also smiled. “France needs a loyal England and solid established alliances with the German Protestant states,” he affirmed.

“These things are very important for France,” Tournon agreed.

“The matter of my marriage to Lady Anne is confidential. Only you, Your Eminence, and Monsieur Jacques de la Brosse will know the true identity of my new wife,” François warned.

“Of course, Your Majesty,” Tournon returned.

“When and where are you planning to have the wedding?” Cardinal asked.

“It will take place here in Venice very soon, after Lady Anne recovers completely.”

“Your Majesty, I will prepare everything for the wedding.”

François smiled affably. “Thank you, Your Eminence.” He paused for an instant, his finger tapping his chin. “If you don’t mind, you will lead the ceremony. Monsieur Jean de Montreuil and Monsieur Jacques de la Brosse will be our witnesses,” he supplemented.

Tournon also smiled. “It will be an honor for me to lead the ceremony.” He liked to be close to the King of France and in such great favor.

A thought struck François, and his face was serious and thoughtful. He was silent for a minute. Tournon didn’t dare to speak. Then the king stared at Tournon. “Your Eminence, please contact my sister Marguerite. As a regent of France, she is in Paris now. As you know, she has contacts with many artists and writers. Among them, there is Clément Marot who used to have prominent ideas about the Reformation in France. I want Clément Marot to prepare a large critical book on the deals of Thomas Cromwell in England and on the inhumanity of burning at the stake the anointed Queen of England who recently had a child. On top of that, I want the poet Mellin de Saint-Gelais to prepare incriminating pamphlets about Thomas Cromwell.”

“Your Majesty, are you going to distribute the book and the pamphlets when they are ready?”

François smiled. “Of course, Your Eminence. They will be distributed in England and in France. It will be interesting to observe Cromwell’s reaction. I really want to pick Cromwell’s feathers off. In addition, it will distract Henry from any possible scheming with the emperor against France.”

“It will be entertaining.” Tournon chuckled. He would love to see how distressed Cromwell would be, explaining to the King of England how the pamphlets had appeared in England.

“Please ask our ambassador to England, Philippe de Chabot, and our spies at the English court, to give me the names of all the people who were interrogated during the investigation of Lady Anne’s case. We must have the detailed information,” the king commanded.

“Yes,” Tournon said with a bow. “Without Cromwell the foreign policy of England will be more rational and more loyal to the interests of France,” he added.

“Maybe not so loyal, but certainly not so radical,” the King of France said musingly.

“We will also need to secure the pope’s dispensation for the marriage,” the cardinal warned.

François frowned. “We cannot do it at this stage. Why do we need it?”

The cardinal coughed. “I am sorry to remind Your Majesty about the past, but I have to do this right now. If my memory serves me well, Lady Mary Boleyn, now known as Lady Mary Stafford, was your mistress many years ago. As a result, Your Majesty and Lady Stafford have a sort of kinship relationship created by out of marriage intercourse.”

“Affinity,” François said dryly.

“Exactly.” Tournon nodded. “We need the dispensation for a marriage. The affinity rules would be breached if you married Lady Anne.”

Throwing his companion a look of understanding and appreciation, the king spoke. “Later we will receive this dispensation, even if I have to pressure the pope.” He smirked. “However, I am sure that the pope won’t reject my demand once Lady Anne’s name is cleared. As soon as we make an announcement about my marriage to Lady Anne, we will appeal to the pope for the dispensation. We must have it in our hands at the earliest convenience to ensure that my enemies, especially the King of England and the emperor, won’t be able to proclaim my marriage null and void.”

“When the time comes, I will take care of it, Your Majesty.”

“Thank you, Your Eminence. I know that you will never fail me.”

July 1537, Venice, the Republic of Venice

It was all very dreamlike, incredible and fathomless. Yet, the wedding day of King François I of France and Anne Boleyn was also a reality. Anne had been feeling uneasy since the early morning, and François had done everything he could to comfort her and ease her concerns. The wedding had been planned and organized in advance. Under the criterion of privacy and secrecy, Cardinal de Tournon chose the Church of San Silvestro, built in the 12
th
century and located in the San Polo sestiere, rather far from the center of Venice. The church wasn’t overcrowded, which made it easier to perform a secret wedding ceremony.

Both François and Anne were dressed in dazzling white clothes, like another couple a long time ago – Anne de Bretagne, Queen of France, and her third husband, King Louis XII of France. Anne de Bretagne wore the first known white wedding dress on her wedding and it had since become the custom for royal brides to wear white for their weddings. François and Anne looked very regal together, as a true royal wedding couple should. However, their faces weren’t carefree and happy. It was as though they were indifferent to the ceremony. Strictly speaking, it was Anne who put on an iron mask on her face in the morning of the wedding, while François only followed her example.

François and Anne slowly and graciously passed through the nave of the church. François was utterly charmed because Anne looked like a goddess on their wedding day. Her gown, her headdress and her jewels were perfect. Anne wore a magnificent tight gown of dazzling white brocade with a low square-cut neckline, a very long train, an ample skirt, and sleeves that were tight to the wrist. The sleeves and the front were heavily ornamented with gold braid and diamonds. The train was made from light taffeta. The collar and the cuffs of the sleeves were faced with a massive row of white Venetian lace. Yards of dazzling white taffeta flowed behind Anne as the train swept across the marble floor as they stepped through the church. Her headdress hid a mane of soft dark hair. The headdress had been designed in Venice to accentuate her eyes and delicate bone structure. A sparkling large oval cut diamond necklace adorned her bosom, a pair of matching diamond earrings in her ears.

François’ costume matched Anne’s wedding gown in color and ornamentation. François wore a dazzling white taffeta shirt, with a standing band collar trimmed with white Venetian lace, white puffy Venetian brocade pants, and a white low-necked brocade doublet. Each part of his costume was lavishly embroidered in gold and trimmed with diamonds. His attire was finished with a white velvet flat cap trimmed with gold braid around the edge, decorated with one white feather, and jeweled with an affiquet.

François noticed that there were no cosmetics on Anne’s face – she didn’t need it to stress her exotic beauty. François involuntary compared her with another Anne, his lover – Anne de Pisseleu d’Heilly, Duchess d’Étampes – who had often worn cosmetics to appear more seductive to the King. Anne de Pisseleu carried a pomander on a gold chain which swung from her waist, so that the scent of violets François most enjoyed would continually surround her. François thought that Anne Boleyn didn’t need it because her natural beauty and charm magnetized men around her, without anything extra to help her attract attention to herself.

The secret ceremony was conducted by Cardinal François de Tournon, with Monsieur Jacques de la Brosse and Count Jean de Montreuil as the witnesses. Flames flickered atop dozens of long white tapers and set the nave aglow, along with the faces of their witnesses. The bride and the bridegroom, as well as the witnesses, were silently bathed in the warm amber light. Anne and François knelt together at the altar. Their hands were linked under a silk bridal canopy, while many prayers and blessings were spoken by the cardinal.

Anne felt as if she had been somewhere else during the entire wedding ceremony and not quite a part of her own body. As the mass was spoken, the songs sung in Latin and French, she stood regally still, not thinking about the next part of the ceremony. Everything happened very quickly, and Anne hardly noticed they were exchanging marriage vows. Her brain registered the King of France’s steady voice and her own replies in a quiet voice amid the blaze of hundreds of candles around them. The image of Henry Tudor took hold like a flame, flared brightly in her mind, then burned and faded as François took her hands. François slipped the small beautiful golden ruby ring – the royal wedding ring – onto her finger, officially making her the Queen of France. Before she realized it, they had been declared husband and wife. At the end of the ceremony, François kissed Anne on her lips. Anne remained frozen during that kiss, her abashment preventing her from responding in time. Yet, she felt his lips on hers, and it was normal because François was her husband. It was a kiss of mutual acceptance of their fate as political allies.

Anne knew that her marriage served as a necessary step at that stage of her life. It would help her a great deal. It would help her children. She would again have power if they didn’t lose the game. However, Anne still thought that she was daydreaming. She realized that her former husband, King Henry, appeared unreal and had been left somewhere in the past. Only a dark thirst for revenge filled her heart at that moment.

As François and Anne walked together back down the aisle toward the chapel doors, she caught his gaze. There was something incomprehensible in his eyes. The entire small secret wedding procession paraded down the street along the Grand Canal. They were surrounded by numerous sword-bearing guards. François’ gaze didn’t meet Anne’s again as they strolled down the street. They crossed a bridge of gondolas spanning the Grand Canal and soon stepped inside the luxurious royal gondola. After half an hour sail on the gondola, they finally arrived en masse at the Palazzo Montreuil. Later Anne, Monsieur Jean, King François, Jacques de la Brosse, and Cardinal François de Tournon had a small dinner together.

After the private dinner, Cardinal François de Tournon and Jacques de la Brosse left the palazzo. By the wedding day, François and many of his personal guards had already moved to the palazzo from the Palazzo Barbarigo.

In the late evening, Anne retired to the large bedchamber that had been prepared especially for the newly wedded couple, as she was no longer assumed to occupy her old room. The room was decorated in Renaissance style. The walls were hung with ivory and gold brocade. One of the walls was covered with frescoes displaying scenes set in ancient Greece and Rome.

In the center of the room, there was a wide bed rendered entirely in fine Italian walnut which boasted cross matched veneer panels flanked by a pair of tapered, fluted and carved columns on each corner. The bed was covered in ivory and gold tapestry. The bedside tables were inlaid with marble and tortoise. Many ivory, gold, and silver tapestried couches and delicately carved chairs had been placed on large Italian carpets. In the corner of the room, there was a heavy walnut table with a multitude of books in French and Italian.