Her eyes widened. “But…but is that not unhealthy? To immerse one’s self in water?”
“It has not hurt the king, nor the princess…the queen of France. Nor has careful attention to their teeth.” My former mistress had the most even teeth of anyone I knew and took particular pride in the fact that they were the color of ivory. She owned no fewer than three sets of tooth cloths and picks. “Further, you must put on your newest clothing after you bathe, and beneath all your other garments, wear a little piece of fur next to your skin.”
“Why?”
“To attract any vermin to that one spot.” I touched the side of my bodice. “I have one here. It is a practice the king follows, as well.” All of us who were educated at Eltham did the same.
Impulsively, Bessie embraced me. “I would be lost without you, Jane. How am I ever to thank you?”
“Be happy,” I said before I thought.
When she beamed at me, I bit back all the warnings crowding into my brain. She was willing, I reminded myself. And even if she had not been so enthusiastic about going to the king’s bed, what choice did she have?
What choice did any of us have about anything?
IN DEFERENCE TO the queen’s sensibilities, the king chose to use Will Compton’s house in Thames Street for his first assignation with Bessie Blount. This took place in early November, shortly after the move from Eltham to Greenwich.
In spite of dismal weather, Bessie and I left the palace on the pretext of a trip to London to visit the shops. Our presence was not required by the queen and in theory we were free to go where we wished, but it seemed a poor ruse to me. If not for my growing fondness for Bessie, I most assuredly would not have ventured out on such a day.
After a cold, damp five-mile trip by wherry, we were hustled up the river stairs, through a back door, and along a passage to a bedchamber. A fire blazed in the hearth, giving off welcome warmth. A dozen quarriers had been lit—square blocks of beeswax with a wick, similar to those that illuminated King Henry’s chambers at court. A luxurious, fur-trimmed robe for Bessie to change into had been left on the bed.
Relegated to the role of tiring maid, I helped her out of her damp cloak and the elaborate court dress beneath, removed her headdress, and brought her water for a last wash before she donned the sumptuous robe. I brushed her long, golden hair till it shone, and then produced a mixture of white wine and vinegar boiled with honey with which she could freshen her breath.
When all was ready, we had naught to do but wait for the king to arrive. Bessie kept a tight hold on my arm, her hand icy with last-minute nerves. I had told her all I could to help her through the afternoon. The rest was up to King Henry. As soon as His Grace arrived, I left them alone together, following the sound of voices to Will’s hall.
“Come, Jane, join us in a game of chance.” Will had already suborned the two yeomen of the guard who had accompanied the king into playing with him. They sat on stools around a small gaming table, tankards of ale at their elbows and coins at the ready to wager.
“Without the knight marshall of the household to oversee matters?” I asked in mock horror. “I am not sure I can trust you not to cheat.”
Will took no offense, only grinned at me and used one foot to push the remaining stool in my direction. “We need no official to bring us cards or act as bookmaker.”
“Perhaps I prefer dice.” The queen, for all that she was very pious, gambled with as much fervor as everyone else at court. I meandered closer. “The knight marshal’s dice are brought to the table in a silver bowl. Did you neglect to furnish yourself with one?”
Will shuffled cards, his pride pricked by that sally. He lived well for a simple country knight, and if the rumors I had heard were true, he was building a veritable palace for himself in the Cotswolds. After Charles Brandon, King Henry favored Will Compton above all men and had given him many gifts to prove it.
“You may choose the game, Jane. What will it be? Mumchance? Gleek? Click-Clack? Imperial? Primero?”
I pretended to give the matter deep thought, but I’d been lucky of late at primero and hoped to be so again. Compton dealt three cards to each player. I looked at my hand and calculated quickly. In primero, each card had three times its usual value. Hiding my smile, I settled in to play. An hour later I had won all the two yeomen of the guard had to wager and was in a cheerful frame of mind.
“A pity you cannot afford to play for higher stakes,” Will commented as I raked in my winnings. “You will never grow rich wagering pennies.”
“Nor will I be reduced to selling my clothing.”
The two yeomen of the guard laughed and wandered off, no doubt to rid themselves of all the ale they had consumed. Left alone with Will, I felt a sudden awkwardness descend. I could not help but wonder how long the king usually spent disporting himself with a mistress, but that was not the kind of question I could ask, not even of an old friend.
I sent a sidelong glance his way and discovered that he was staring at me intently. I quickly looked away, a frown on my face. I picked up the cards and idly began to shuffle them.
“The king hoped at least one of his own people would remain in France,” Will said.
I stifled a laugh. “I do not know why he expected me to continue to spy for him. Or how. I would have been hard pressed to send intelligence back to England.”
“Had you other plans?” Will’s voice was so smooth and uncritical that I almost confided in him.
I caught myself in time, lest a desire to do other than King Henry’s bidding be misconstrued as treason. “If I had not been refused entry in the first place, I would doubtless have been sent home with the rest of the French queen’s English household.” In spite of Mary’s passionate and tearful protests, not even Mother Guildford had been allowed to remain at the French court.
“You were fond of Longueville.” It was not a question.
“I was. So was the king,” I added, in case this, too, should be misunderstood.
“And when you came to England, years ago, it was from France.”
“I was born in Brittany.” I grew tired of reminding people of that but they never seemed to remember. “My mother was one of Duchess Anne’s ladies.” I looked up at last, into sympathetic, even pitying hazel eyes.
“You must have been disappointed, then, not to be allowed to go with the Lady Mary.”
“Has the king assigned you to test my loyalty?”
The blunt question surprised a laugh out of him. “No, he has not. Be of good cheer, Jane. You may yet have your heart’s desire. King Henry has been talking of a meeting with King Louis come spring. If the entire court travels to France, the queen will perforce take all her ladies with her, even you.”
I smiled and pretended to be pleased by the notion, but all I could think was that the king of France thought I should be burnt. I did not dare go back, not even under King Henry’s protection.
“HE WAS SO gentle with me, Jane. So tender.” Bessie whirled around in a circle, her face wreathed in smiles.
“I am happy for you,” I said.
“And I think I pleased him.” She blushed becomingly. “He praised my eyes and my hair and my breasts.”
“Bessie.” I caught her hands in mine and waited until she looked at me. “You must never forget that King Henry takes mistresses when the queen is with child and he is denied her bed. When he can return to it, he will lose interest in you. He is, in his way, a faithful husband.”
Her smile was one of pity. “But he is mine to keep for a while,” she said. “How many women can say they have bedded the king of England?”