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Authors: Kelly Stuart
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poke and prod you.”
“Three questions,” Anne commanded. “Now.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“Ask three questions. Publish an article with my answers after I am gone. Will people believe you? Will they believe this ludicrous story?”
“You will not die until you are ready for it,” Avery said with quiet emphasis.
“ Incorrect. I may well die. Question one.”
Avery shifted uncomfortably. “I really...”
“Why does learning about me frighten you, Sir Franklin? You seemed fine when I mentioned Elizabeth earlier.”
“ It’s different when you bring up a topic.”
“Like I said, I grant permission. No violation.”
“Do I get to record this or write notes as you speak?”
“No. Question one.”
Avery thought a second. “Why did you give in and have sex with Henry? What was the trigger?”
“The time had come,” Anne said simply.
“But why?” Avery urged. “Why was it time?”
“Like your book said, I had reached more prominence during the French visit. The nobility was more tolerant of me. Henry was getting too frustrated that the pope would not grant his divorce.”
“Did your father have a say in when you would bed Henry? Or was the decision wholly yours?”
“Of course he had a say in the matter,” Anne retorted. “A tremendous say. I was a puppet. My father knew the lusts of men, and he knew how long Henry was willing to wait. You know as well as I do, Sir Franklin, that being a woman in Tudor times was no better and no more powerful than being a dog. Question two, please.”
“When you were pregnant with Elizabeth, were you afraid she would be a girl?”
“Yes. Oh yes. I kept up a brave front. The baby would be a boy, the future king of England, and that was that. Inside, I was unsure. Henry had to be as nervous as I, but from the way he puffed and thumped his chest, you would imagine him capable of peeking inside me and seeing our baby’s penis. A girl...” Anne’s voice trailed off. “When Elizabeth was born, when I found out she was a girl, I refused to think anything except: ‘The next baby will be a boy.’ I was afraid for Henry to come see me. To come see us. But he did. He had to. He was the father of my child.”
“What was that meeting like?”
“Henry stood in the doorway a long time. Only Elizabeth and I were in the room, and he was a shadow. I was exhausted from the labor. I wanted to weep and sleep. I held the baby, and at last he approached. He looked at her. He looked at me. His face was still and contained. He had big fingers, Henry did. Thick. He touched one of his fingers to her nose. ‘Elizabeth,’ he said, and his voice was angry and sad and sweet and desperate. I knew for certain I was dead if I failed to soon produce a boy. Then my husband left.”
“Did you love him?” Avery asked. “At any point?”
“No,” Anne said defiantly.
“Was he good in bed?”
Anne gave a mirthless laugh. “The things people want to know.”
“Your Majesty—”
“I will answer tomorrow if you ask the question again. We are finished today. You have asked more than three questions.”
“Very well. ” Avery rose to his feet.
Anne’s throat tightened. What had she been thinking, ending the conversation? Now she felt more isolated and distressed. “I suppose Henry was serviceable,” she said.
Avery’s quirked brow indicated that he wanted to know Anne’s definition of serviceable but was too polite to ask.
Anne wrapped her arms around herself. How very stupid she was. She wanted to be in the movies again, in the darkness with Avery. Or in 1536 with Avery inside her. She wanted Avery’s arms around her, for a bleak bed held no use. On occasion when she was a child, she climbed into bed with her brother or sister. Once in a while, the three of them slept together.
Avery yawned again, and Anne knew her new friend was lost for the time being. “Good night,” she said. I hope Pegasus lacks equipment that can see through
“Three questions,” Anne commanded. “Now.”
“What if I don’t want to?”
“Ask three questions. Publish an article with my answers after I am gone. Will people believe you? Will they believe this ludicrous story?”
“You will not die until you are ready for it,” Avery said with quiet emphasis.
“ Incorrect. I may well die. Question one.”
Avery shifted uncomfortably. “I really...”
“Why does learning about me frighten you, Sir Franklin? You seemed fine when I mentioned Elizabeth earlier.”
“ It’s different when you bring up a topic.”
“Like I said, I grant permission. No violation.”
“Do I get to record this or write notes as you speak?”
“No. Question one.”
Avery thought a second. “Why did you give in and have sex with Henry? What was the trigger?”
“The time had come,” Anne said simply.
“But why?” Avery urged. “Why was it time?”
“Like your book said, I had reached more prominence during the French visit. The nobility was more tolerant of me. Henry was getting too frustrated that the pope would not grant his divorce.”
“Did your father have a say in when you would bed Henry? Or was the decision wholly yours?”
“Of course he had a say in the matter,” Anne retorted. “A tremendous say. I was a puppet. My father knew the lusts of men, and he knew how long Henry was willing to wait. You know as well as I do, Sir Franklin, that being a woman in Tudor times was no better and no more powerful than being a dog. Question two, please.”
“When you were pregnant with Elizabeth, were you afraid she would be a girl?”
“Yes. Oh yes. I kept up a brave front. The baby would be a boy, the future king of England, and that was that. Inside, I was unsure. Henry had to be as nervous as I, but from the way he puffed and thumped his chest, you would imagine him capable of peeking inside me and seeing our baby’s penis. A girl...” Anne’s voice trailed off. “When Elizabeth was born, when I found out she was a girl, I refused to think anything except: ‘The next baby will be a boy.’ I was afraid for Henry to come see me. To come see us. But he did. He had to. He was the father of my child.”
“What was that meeting like?”
“Henry stood in the doorway a long time. Only Elizabeth and I were in the room, and he was a shadow. I was exhausted from the labor. I wanted to weep and sleep. I held the baby, and at last he approached. He looked at her. He looked at me. His face was still and contained. He had big fingers, Henry did. Thick. He touched one of his fingers to her nose. ‘Elizabeth,’ he said, and his voice was angry and sad and sweet and desperate. I knew for certain I was dead if I failed to soon produce a boy. Then my husband left.”
“Did you love him?” Avery asked. “At any point?”
“No,” Anne said defiantly.
“Was he good in bed?”
Anne gave a mirthless laugh. “The things people want to know.”
“Your Majesty—”
“I will answer tomorrow if you ask the question again. We are finished today. You have asked more than three questions.”
“Very well. ” Avery rose to his feet.
Anne’s throat tightened. What had she been thinking, ending the conversation? Now she felt more isolated and distressed. “I suppose Henry was serviceable,” she said.
Avery’s quirked brow indicated that he wanted to know Anne’s definition of serviceable but was too polite to ask.
Anne wrapped her arms around herself. How very stupid she was. She wanted to be in the movies again, in the darkness with Avery. Or in 1536 with Avery inside her. She wanted Avery’s arms around her, for a bleak bed held no use. On occasion when she was a child, she climbed into bed with her brother or sister. Once in a while, the three of them slept together.
Avery yawned again, and Anne knew her new friend was lost for the time being. “Good night,” she said. I hope Pegasus lacks equipment that can see through
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