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

hold her little finger. She thought she could not remain standing for another minute, as she had been on her feet for at least three hours, when, finally, it was over. The trumpets played their fanfare and the entire assemblage prepared to return to Palace of Westminster, where a sumptuous feast would take place. Madge noticed how silent the lords and ladies were through these events. Even the London crowds outside gave no shouts or cheers for their new queen. Few hats were tossed and even fewer calls of “God save Your Grace,” as were heard every time old Queen Catherine appeared in public, even now, when she was merely the dowager princess.
    Madge and Sir Norris marched outside into the warm June air. Madge gazed into the sky and noticed what had started as a balmy, clear day had turned overcast. She felt a sudden sense of danger for herself and the new queen.
    “Tired, Lady Margaret? Shall you to bed?” said Norris with a leer.
    “No. I am hungry. It is a long time since we supped,” said Madge, not wishing to share anything as private as a feeling with Norris.
    “That want shall be satisfied soon—I’ll warrant the banquet has food enough for the whole city,” said Norris, taking her hand and leading her into the Great Hall.
    At the coronation banquet, Anne was seated alone at the center of the top table while all the important people were arranged according to the order of precedence. The countess of Worcester and the dowager countess of Oxford stood beside the queen, each holding an embroidered napkin that would be used to shield the queen if she needed to spit or do otherwise. Two other women sat at her feet under the table, ready to do her bidding.
    Madge looked around and found it hard to believe that as the trumpets blared and the Knights of the Bath served the queen course after course of rich food, there remained eight hundred people still seated, waiting for their own tasty meal. On horseback, overseeing the entire festivity, sat the duke of Suffolk, who as high steward was responsible for the overall dinner. Madge thought he looked as Sir Churlish might look in another twenty years—handsome and regal with his doublet and jacket studded with pearls. Lord William Howard was also on horseback and his duty was to see to the serving of the food. For the first course, the queen was served twenty-three dishes, of which she ate three. The second course consisted of twenty-four dishes and there were thirty for the third. Each course was heralded by the king’s trumpets and much singing.
    The king himself was seated on a hidden stage where he could watch the festivities through a lattice and eat his fill. At the end of the meal, the kitchen had prepared many subtleties and Madge was particularly impressed with the wax ships. By then, the hour had struck six and the queen, along with Madge and all the other attendants, had been on parade for nine hours. And there were still the closing ceremonies to endure. Madge hoped all this pomp would not overtire the queen, especially in her delicate condition. She plopped a sugared plum into her mouth and swore she would never forget this day, this feast, this triumphant moment.

 
    Eleven
    The weather of mid-July was warm with plenteous rainfall so that the royal gardens bloomed with all sorts of flowers: roses, gillyflowers, columbines, and lavender. Madge and Cate strolled daily in the various gardens at Hampton Court, taking Shadow out so she would not soil Cate’s room. Though the court usually went on Progress in the summer months, because of the queen’s condition, the king had decided to stay in London so his wife would not be jostled over the countryside. The king took no chances with his future son’s welfare.
    Madge had heard no words about Shadow’s being in the palace, though by now, Shadow had exceeded even the king’s lap. The queen must have arranged things. Madge was beginning to relax, learning the queen’s moods and enjoying their frequent