“I do try to keep my head down, Lady Rochford, and I can assure you that I never forget where I have come from. I realise that I am here only because of the queen’s good nature, and all I seek to do is repay Her Majesty’s kindness with my service. I do not seek to advance myself at court, or become a great lady like you. Such things are not meant for a mere maid like me.”
At that last comment, which Bridget managed to make without the slightest hint of sarcasm, Jane Rochford threw back her blonde head and laughed, an unexpectedly agreeable laugh that filled the tranquil air. She smiled at Bridget with a genuineness that transformed her otherwise sly features.
“Mistress Manning,” she said, “you delivered that response perfectly and with such sincerity that I actually believed you. I considered you as nothing more than a silly, little charity case that would be lucky to last six months here, but I see that you are a quick study. You have already learned that those who can present a false front can go a long way at court. Perhaps you will prove to be more than just a drab, little outcast after all.”
Bridget bit her lip and did not make further answer. Unexpectedly, Lady Rochford put her arm through hers and began to chat companionably, as if they now understood each other and had thus become friends. “I may come to like you, Bridget, and that is a rare thing here, someone one may genuinely like. In a way, you remind me of myself when I was your age. I was eager to please, happy to be at court, in service to a woman I admired. In my case, it was the former queen, Catherine of Aragon. Never have I known a more estimable person, a truer lady, than her. And then I became a member of the Boleyn family and everything changed. Everything.”
Lady Rochford paused and seemed uncertain whether to proceed. “What changed, my lady?” Bridget asked. For some reason, she very much wanted to hear what Jane Rochford had to say.
The older woman looked thoughtful, and her eyes took on a faraway aspect. “Marriage was not as I had anticipated it,” she said. “You are a maid and probably still have some romantic notions, as I did. When I married Lord Rochford, I felt lucky because he was so very handsome and witty, as well as intelligent and ambitious. The Boleyns were on the rise, and I desperately wanted to be a part of it all. I saw us working together, surrounded in time by our children, the epitome of a strong, close-knit family. But I did not reckon on Anne.” Jane Rochford’s face clouded over.
“She was not prepared to let him go, to allow him to leave her side, and she was never very fond of me to start with. My loyalty to Catherine became a mark against me and I was just not brilliant or clever enough to be allowed into her circle. It is true that her marriage to the king has elevated us all, as her family, but only some have truly benefitted from this. Anne and her chosen ones run this court. The rest of us are on the outside looking in.”
Bridget found she could not quite accept this version of the pecking order from Lady Rochford. “My lady, you are married to one of the most powerful and prominent men at court. You will be aunt to the future king, God willing, in a few months’ time. How can you possibly be on the outside of anything?”
Lady Rochford stopped walking and looked at Bridget. “You have not been with us for very long, but you have seen who is close to the queen, who she surrounds herself with in her privy chamber. My husband is constantly with her, as is Norris, Weston, and Brereton. Even Smeaton,” Jane nearly spat out his name, “that ridiculous musician, is invited. They are the ones she dotes upon. Why, some even say—”
Lady Rochford stopped speaking, and her countenance took on a crafty expression. “Some even say what?” Bridget prompted, her voice dropping to a murmur.
Jane looked about her and, seeing no one else within eavesdropping distance, she leaned in
At that last comment, which Bridget managed to make without the slightest hint of sarcasm, Jane Rochford threw back her blonde head and laughed, an unexpectedly agreeable laugh that filled the tranquil air. She smiled at Bridget with a genuineness that transformed her otherwise sly features.
“Mistress Manning,” she said, “you delivered that response perfectly and with such sincerity that I actually believed you. I considered you as nothing more than a silly, little charity case that would be lucky to last six months here, but I see that you are a quick study. You have already learned that those who can present a false front can go a long way at court. Perhaps you will prove to be more than just a drab, little outcast after all.”
Bridget bit her lip and did not make further answer. Unexpectedly, Lady Rochford put her arm through hers and began to chat companionably, as if they now understood each other and had thus become friends. “I may come to like you, Bridget, and that is a rare thing here, someone one may genuinely like. In a way, you remind me of myself when I was your age. I was eager to please, happy to be at court, in service to a woman I admired. In my case, it was the former queen, Catherine of Aragon. Never have I known a more estimable person, a truer lady, than her. And then I became a member of the Boleyn family and everything changed. Everything.”
Lady Rochford paused and seemed uncertain whether to proceed. “What changed, my lady?” Bridget asked. For some reason, she very much wanted to hear what Jane Rochford had to say.
The older woman looked thoughtful, and her eyes took on a faraway aspect. “Marriage was not as I had anticipated it,” she said. “You are a maid and probably still have some romantic notions, as I did. When I married Lord Rochford, I felt lucky because he was so very handsome and witty, as well as intelligent and ambitious. The Boleyns were on the rise, and I desperately wanted to be a part of it all. I saw us working together, surrounded in time by our children, the epitome of a strong, close-knit family. But I did not reckon on Anne.” Jane Rochford’s face clouded over.
“She was not prepared to let him go, to allow him to leave her side, and she was never very fond of me to start with. My loyalty to Catherine became a mark against me and I was just not brilliant or clever enough to be allowed into her circle. It is true that her marriage to the king has elevated us all, as her family, but only some have truly benefitted from this. Anne and her chosen ones run this court. The rest of us are on the outside looking in.”
Bridget found she could not quite accept this version of the pecking order from Lady Rochford. “My lady, you are married to one of the most powerful and prominent men at court. You will be aunt to the future king, God willing, in a few months’ time. How can you possibly be on the outside of anything?”
Lady Rochford stopped walking and looked at Bridget. “You have not been with us for very long, but you have seen who is close to the queen, who she surrounds herself with in her privy chamber. My husband is constantly with her, as is Norris, Weston, and Brereton. Even Smeaton,” Jane nearly spat out his name, “that ridiculous musician, is invited. They are the ones she dotes upon. Why, some even say—”
Lady Rochford stopped speaking, and her countenance took on a crafty expression. “Some even say what?” Bridget prompted, her voice dropping to a murmur.
Jane looked about her and, seeing no one else within eavesdropping distance, she leaned in
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