Free At the Mercy of the Queen: A Novel of Anne Boleyn by Anne Clinard Barnhill Page A

take you up a step higher than you already are, my scheming Margaret?” said Norris.
    “I prefer not to be wooed at all. And no! I care not to marry. As for raising me, sir, I am cousin to the soon-to-be anointed queen of England. I need no further height,” said Madge as she tried to ride faster to avoid further conversation. He grabbed the reins of her horse.
    “You may not care to be wooed, my lady, but I will woo you. And, God’s blood, I’ll win you,” Norris said, his arm firmly around her wrist.
    At that moment, Madge heard a scuffle behind them and turned to look. A man was approaching their steeds on foot.
    “Lady Margaret, may I have a word?”
    It was Arthur, his face flushed and his rich velvet doublet, a deep turquoise, stretched to show his robust chest as he reached for her hand.
    “Certainly, my lord. If you’ll excuse me, Sir Norris? I shall meet you inside at table,” said Madge as she gave Henry Norris a short nod.
    “But … but you are to pair with me, my lady. The king commands it…” mumbled Norris.
    “I shall be with you anon,” said Madge.
    Norris shrugged his shoulders and continued on his way. Madge dropped back to allow Arthur to catch up with her.
    “I never would have believed I would be glad to see such as you!” said Madge.
    “What a kind sentiment, lady. I have rescued you from a true rascal and all you do is insult me. Little repayment for my trouble,” said Arthur, grinning up at her.
    “If you expect payment for chivalrous deeds, you are no better than Norris,” said Madge, turning her face from him.
    “You misunderstand me. I expect nothing. What else could I expect, given my parentage? I can neither expect nor offer … anything,” Arthur said with downcast eyes.
    Madge hadn’t expected to feel regret for her harsh words, but that is exactly what stabbed her heart as they progressed toward the great door of the abbey.
    “Forgive me. I am truly grateful for even a few moments away from Norris. I must spend the entire day with him and I can only hope to escape with my honor intact,” said Madge as she scanned the lane ahead, looking for Norris.
    Arthur touched her slightly on the arm. She turned her face down to him as he whispered, “Should you need help in protecting your honor, you have only to send for me. I am in earnest, my lady.”
    Madge looked into his eyes and knew he meant what he said. Perhaps Arthur, too, could be a friend. She smiled at him and said nothing. Then, she caught a motion from the corner of her eye—Sir Norris waving his arm to her.
    “I must go. Thank you for your kindness,” said Madge as she dismounted her horse, handed the reins to a stableman, and made her way to the place Norris had saved for her. At that moment, the trumpets began to blow and the ceremony began. Madge could barely see the queen dressed in her crimson gown, rich velvet edged in ermine. Her long black hair hung freely once again to her waist and a caul of pearls covered her head. She marched in beneath a canopy of cloth of gold, followed by a great train of lords and ladies. Madge and Norris walked in at the end of this line and moved solemnly to their places. Next came the Yeoman of the King’s Guard, the bishops and abbots, and finally, the children of the Chapel Royal and the two archbishops. All processed upon red carpet, which extended to the raised platform where Anne sat at the high altar enthroned in all her glory.
    The ceremony seemed to last forever as each man of import acted his part. The solemn high mass was sung by the abbot of Westminster but it was Archbishop Cranmer who anointed Anne with holy oil and then placed the crown of St. Edward upon her head, a scepter of gold in her right hand, and a rod of ivory in her left. After the Te Deum was sung, the crown of St. Edward was replaced with one of lesser weight. Anne then took the sacrament and prayed at the altar of St. Edward.
    Sir Norris kept stealing glances at Madge and tried several times to