The Last Boleyn(68)

“Anne, I warn you...” Thomas Bullen’s voice came low and he motioned to his wife to take Anne from the room.

Great tears came to Mary’s eyes. Anne’s words hurt. They were thoughtless, brash and cruel, but they were true. George looked stunned. Anne turned and fled before Elizabeth could get to her, and George followed the women through the open door.

Her father studied Mary’s face briefly. “I am sorry to have this happen here to upset you, Mary. It is a wonder the boy still sleeps after that screaming. Anne will be all right. I shall see to it.”

“Anne is right, father.”

“Right about what?”

“George is desperately unhappy. Anne has only returned. She is but fourteen and she wants to live here, to experience court life for herself.”

“She will, Mary, she will. The wedding is not until autumn and she will have you to set her a good example. It is just that she is the youngest, and your mother has spoiled her. The lad is beautiful. May I hold him later?” He turned and strode from the room without waiting for her answer.

The door stood open, and she felt a desperate urge to call for Semmonet. She must hold the baby and rock him to set right all the conflict and unhappiness. But she did not wish to see any of them now. She only wanted her baby close to her, away from Anne or George or even mother.

She lifted the sheet and carefully slid one leg over the side of her bed, then the other. The cradle was so near. This would be easy. She slid her hips off, her feet touched the floor and she stood. A spinning hit her and swept her around so she could not even see the cradle. She put her hands out to break her fall, but strong arms caught her and lifted her high.

“Foolish girl,” came the low voice in her ear as she was laid back, on her bed. She opened one eye slowly and looked up at the tilting ceiling. Staff leaned over her, serious concern stamped on his face. “Shall I call your mother? Are you all right now?”

“Yes. I did not think it would be so difficult to stand. I am glad you came.” She put one arm over her eyes to stop the rushing whirl of the room.

“So am I, Mary Bullen.”

She realized how she must look to him stretched out under his gaze on the bed in her thin chemise and lacy robe.

“Will said I might come up to wish you well. I saw the door stood open with no one about, and you, ready to topple over,” he explained as if to apologize for his sudden appearance.

“You just missed a fine display of Bullen family politics,” she said grimly with her eyes still covered.

“I did not truly miss it, sweet. It was quite discernible from the front stairs.”

Her eyes shot open and stared up into his. “Did Will hear?”

“I think not. The solar door is closed. Here, you had best get back into bed before someone comes in and wonders.” He pulled her to a sitting position, plumped the bolster behind her back, and covered her legs with the rumpled sheet.

“Thank you for your care,” she said. “You would make a fine bedroom nurse.”

“Anytime you want someone to help you into your bed, remember me then.”

“Really, Staff,” she scolded lightly, unable to keep the smile from her face that he would still tease her so. “Now tell me, how is everyone at court?”

He pulled a chair close to the foot of her bed, carefully avoiding the end of the cradle, and she thought foolishly how far away he felt now. “If I told you about everyone at court, lady, it would take hours and I would have your governess on my back, so I will be brief. The king has gone through three quick romances in your absence and he misses you. If your father tells you he has set up your return, do not believe it. His Grace misses his golden Mary.”

“And how many quick romances has Will Stafford gone through in these five months?”

“And does he miss his golden Mary, do you mean?”

She felt herself blush under his steady stare. What had gotten into her to encourage him like this?

“Well, since you ask directly, sweet, you shall have a direct answer. I long for you to come back and tease me and insult me. If there were room for three men in your busy little life, I am afraid I would be most insistent on where you spent your time and at least some of your nights.”

She pulled in her breath sharply. He dared to imply that he wanted her for a lover! It was madness. She should be insulted and tell him his place the way she had often before, but she was so glad to see him.

There was a lengthening silence and raised voices came from somewhere down the hallway. Coward, she ranted at herself. Say something. Tell him the truth. “Would you like to see the child, Staff? I was trying to get him to hold when I...fell.”

“I have found in my experience that babies all look alike when they are born, but I hear this one is special, with Tudor-colored hair. So let’s have a look.”

She meant to protest as he bent and handed her the bundle, but he seemed to do it expertly. “In your experience, Staff? Do you mean to tell me you have children hidden somewhere about the kingdom?”

“Not a one,” he replied, “but since this lad is so fine-looking, I might be interested in ordering one myself from the same, ah, manufacturer.” He grinned rakishly at her and reached out one finger to touch the babe’s tiny curled hand, which grasped eagerly.

“You see, Mary Bullen, babies know whom to trust.”