He looked surprised. ‘Of course. Are you not the bride I always wanted?’
‘I do hope so,’ I replied.
‘You are, without a doubt.’
With a kiss to my lips, a smile and a graceful bow, at odds with his informal chamber robe, Henry left me holding tight to his assurances. As it must with any woman, it crossed my mind: did Henry, handsome and powerful, perhaps have a lover? Did he go from my bed to the arms of one of the palace servants who could entice him with sharp wit and languorous caresses?
I did not think so; I had no earthly rival. I had to fight against a God-ordained obligation to England and Henry’s vision of his country as the pre-eminent power in Europe. I did not think I would ever emerge the victor in such a contest.
‘How does a woman fall for a child?’ I asked. Alice’s much-vaunted feverfew was not working. ‘What must I do to ensure my fertility?’
What a collection of raised brows and rounded mouths. Prayer was good, but I knew I must take counsel elsewhere. I steeled myself to it.
There was a silence in the artlessly decorative group of damsels, stitching and reading in the late afternoon.
Had I shocked them? Did English Queens not ask such intimate questions? I felt my face colour with heat but my need was greater than my shame. They—my damsels—had been universally cool since our establishment back in their own
But this was urgent. I needed advice.
Meg pursed her lips. ‘Your hips are very small, my lady, for sure. It can make childbearing difficult.’
My hands clenched into fists, well hidden in the soft silk of my skirts. So the fault was mine that I did not conceive. As perhaps it was, but I heard the disdain for my failure behind the carefully phrased fact.
‘His Majesty is capable, my lady,’ Beatrice observed. They would know how often Henry came to my bedchamber, of course.
‘Yes.’ The heat in my face became more intense.
Joan, the youngest of my damsels, with a kinder eye, spoke up. ‘My sister says that if you grind the dried testicle from a wild pig into powder, mix it in wine and drink it, the result is excellent.’
‘Do we have a testicle of a wild pig?’ I heard myself asking, unnerved at the advice.
A silence. A pause. Then my damsels erupted into laughter, with an edge that was, to my mind, not kind at all. I thought they looked at me with pity, even when Alice took them to task.
‘I have heard of such a nostrum, Joan, but that was not helpful. Unless you are volunteering to go and kill a wild pig for us? And you can take Beatrice with you. Her scowl will kill a boar at twenty paces. I think we can do better. If you carry a walnut in its shell, my lady, it will strengthen your womb and aid fertility.’
‘If you eat walnuts, it is said to cure madness.’
I froze, heated skin now pale and cold at this unexpected wounding. Anguish ripped through me that Cecily would make it so personal an attack. Could they be so deliberately cruel? I turned to her, prepared to defend my father.
‘Enough, Cecily!’ It was Beatrice who came to my aid. ‘Your manners are not what your mother would wish for you. I suggest you say a rosary before dinner and pray to the Holy Virgin for humility.’
While to me, with compassion in her face, Alice advised, ‘We will tuck some leaves of
‘And you, Cecily, might pray that fragility of mind never touches one of your family.’ Beatrice continued her admonitions to my pert damsel. But I knew that Beatrice’s loyalty was to Henry and the as yet unconceived heir rather than to me.
‘Forgive me, my lady.’ Cecily’s eyes dropped before mine.
‘Thank you,’ I said to Alice, smiling at Beatrice, hanging on to dignity.
‘It’s early days,’ soothed Alice. Then added sternly, ‘And this flock of clucking fowl should know better than to mock a woman in such need.’
My damsels sniffed at the reprimand and laughed in corners, even when they knew I would hear them.
No, I made no friends with my ladies in waiting.
