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

with the exception of women’s lapdogs. Shadow was still a puppy and could fit on a lap but she would not do so for long. Poor Shadow. Madge hoped to ask, if it please the queen, for Shadow to stay.
    Madge entered the privy chamber looking for the queen, but Her Majesty wasn’t there. She saw Mistress Marshall standing in the center of a group of young ladies and walked over to join them. She bowed a slight nod of greeting to Mistress Marshall.
    “Lady Margaret, the queen will see you in her bedchamber immediately. Mind your manners and don’t gawk,” said Mistress Marshall.
    “Yes, milady,” replied Madge.
    As Madge walked through the privy chamber, she noticed the sumptuous carpets on the floor, along with the finely woven smaller rugs covering the enormous walnut chest where some of the queen’s plate was displayed. Madge went through the heavy wooden door that led from the back of the privy chamber to the more intimate rooms that lay within. She followed the narrow hall to the next room, knocked once, but no one replied. She hurried down the corridor once again and didn’t stop until she heard the unmistakable laughter of the queen herself. Taking a deep breath, Madge knocked on an oversized oaken door. She was relieved there was no guard at the queen’s bedchamber; she did not like to hear the sound of her name blared aloud by the Yeoman who stood at the outer door to the queen’s apartments.
    “Enter,” said the queen.
    Madge pushed open the door and saw the queen lying in what was the most enormous bed Madge had ever seen. It must have been long enough and wide enough to fit a horse. Madge approached the queen and made a deep curtsy.
    “Come here, my girl. I’ve missed our walks—we must take them more often after the coronation—I’ve been so busy in preparation, I’ve had no time to spare for walking, except, of course, to walk with His Majesty,” said Queen Anne with a proud smile on her face.
    “I, too, have missed circling the gardens with our dear pups. How is Purkoy?” Madge said.
    “Ask him yourself! He’s under the covers somewhere! Venez ici, Purkoy!” said the queen. “And here is Urian, as usual, asleep by the fire. He is almost like a bear rug—never moves, never even shudders—and he takes up a great deal of room!”
    Hearing his mistress’s voice, Purkoy burrowed out from beneath the beautifully embroidered coverlet and greeted Madge with several happy licks on her hands and face.
    “And how is Shadow, Lady Margaret?” said the queen as she held Purkoy.
    “Not as well as Purkoy, I fear,” said Madge.
    “Not ill, I hope,” said the queen.
    “Oh no, Your Grace. Shadow is full of spark. But the king has forbidden all dogs, except the lapdogs of ladies. Shadow will grow to be a hunting dog. I fear she shall be too large to be at court,” said Madge.
    “I shall talk to His Majesty this very day. You shall keep your dog, of that you can rest assured,” said the queen, her low voice understanding.
    “Oh, thank you, Your Grace. I shall be ever so happy to have Shadow with me. She reminds me of home,” said Madge.
    “And you miss your home a great deal?” said the queen.
    “Well … I do miss the sheep running across the fields and the little stream that flows through the nearby woods. And I miss my mother,” said Madge. She didn’t want the queen to think she was unhappy where she was, however, so she added, “I like the court very much, too. Especially when I can walk with Your Grace. And the food at court is beyond anything I could imagine. Here, time seems to have sprouted wings—it flies so quickly. Jousts, dancing, gaming, cockfights, tenes, bowles, more adventure than any back home could have in a lifetime.”
    The queen rose from her huge bed, Purkoy still in her arms. She walked to where Madge stood and raised Madge’s chin with her bejeweled hand. The queen looked straight into Madge’s eyes and Madge understood how the king might fall in love with her