Witness - Lady Rochford/ Jane Boleyn

It was time. I patted down my beautiful dress. It was the Tudor green colour, embroidered with gold lace. The sleeves were made out of black velvet and the triangle shape at the front of my dress was the same material. I stared at myself in the mirror. I pushed my traditional English hood back slightly, it was the becoming the fashion. My hood was pure black at the front but the material covering the back of my curly hair was a translucent green. I loved it. I smoothed my hood slowly, then procceded to stroke my own face. I was soft and spotless. I gently touched my eyelids. Behind them were my captivating eyes, they were a mixture between green and grey. They were considered kind and intelligent by most of King Henry's court. Nobody had ever said so, but I often found people staring at my eyes. Then again, I am beautiful. I tapped my nose slightly. I do that often. It fustrates the other gossip thirsty courtiers because I only do it when I know something they don't. My heart knows something even I don't know. I shall put this information to the test in a matter of moments. I continue examining myself, I finger my black and green necklace. It matches my dress. I think the small balls are coloured pearls, but I am not sure. They were a gift from my mother. She was standing beside me, staring into the distance. I ignored her. I stroked my dress longingly, I was just smoothing my stomach when my father burst in: Henry Parker.

"Jane! Come this instance, we will be late!" He shouted gruffly.

He seized me before I could reply "yes father." He pulled me to the door, took a more polite grasp of my arm and turned the knob. As the door opened, I saw everyone. They were all staring. The music started and I began to walk. My steps in my new padded black shoes were hardly audible over the clomping of my father's boots. I took every step slowly, savouring my glorious moments. I stared directly ahead, to show I was superior to my awed audience. I could have laughed at their silence. It wasn't very often the kings court was silent. I took a few more slow steps, then my father jerkerd and tightened his grip on me. Like he thought I was going to flee. Of course I wouldn't, i couldn't wait to be married! Today was my chance of glory, today was the day to show everyone I wasn't just a courtier, I was a respected and married woman. I was in the best court of the world, lady in waiting to the Queen of England, married into a popular and sophisticated family. Today was a day to be remembered, the day when two rich familes joined in marriage. It is surely the most impotant event of the year, 1526. I was the luckiest and most beautiful woman in the world. As I walked, i noticed George. He looked pale and slightly sickly. He must have been nervous, God knows why. I tried ro meet his eye, but he wouldn't look at me. Instead, he turned to face the priest. I began to quicken, my father's tight grip was getting sore. I smiled graciously as i became only metres away from George. I saw him turn to somebody and wink. Two women stared at him. They were his sisters. The first, Mary, smiled cheekily. It was known by everyone that she was the King's mistress. It was rumoured she had even had an affair with the king of France! Her sister raised her eyebrows at George. She was called Anne. I didn't like her. She was to cunning, to quick and to French. My father hissed something at me. I turned to face him. We had reached George. My father gripped both my shoulders.

"Don't let me down Jane, don't let the family down." He hissed.

I nodded quickly and he scowled in return. He nodded grimly at George and walked away. I smiled at George but he still wouldn't look at me, so i turned and faced the priest and altar. It was all magnificently well done. It was one of the most fantastic rooms I had ever seen. The stained glass windows were detailed and beautiful, although a little depressing. The audience were standing in neat, arranged rows. The wooden floor felt warm under my thin shoes. I loved wedding ceremonies.

"Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to witness the holy matronomy of the the Lady Jane and Sir George Boleyn." The priest said to the crowds.

He turned to face us.

"Since it is your intention to enter into marriage, join your right hands, and declare your consent before God and his Church."

We joined hands. It was sweaty, I wondered who the sweat belonged too. It must have been George, as I was in perfect heat and relaxation. He wasn't really holding on to me. He seemed to be trying to touch as little of my hand as possible. I clutched his hand tightly. Although it was wet, it was strong and smooth. For the first time, George looked into my eyes. His eyebrows were knitted and he was frowning. Didn't he want me to hold his hand? I released my grip on his hands slightly. He breathed out, seemingly relieved. I wanted to frown, but I knew I couldn't. It was the rule of a courtier. Always keep smiling.

The priest muttered to George. His teeth were clenched.

"I, George Boleyn, take you, Jane Rochford, to be my wife. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life." George said.

He spoke quickly and he sounded strained. Like he was worried. He didn't need to be, we would have a lovely marriage. He seemed unwilling to marry me, I wondered whether his parents and forced him into our marriage. If they had, he couldn't have said no. Maybe he didn't love me. No, he had to love me. He had to, he had to, he had to!

"Repeat this: I, Jane Rochford, take you, George Boleyn, to be my husband. I promise to be true to you in good times and in bad, in sickness and in health. I will love you and honor you all the days of my life." The priest whispered quickly.

I followed his orders. My voice came out loud and confident. Excellent, i was doing well. I took a sly glance at my father, he narrowed his eyes at me. I immediately looked back at the priest, who was murmering in Latin. I couldn't really understand, but I knew he was talking about marriage and it's importance. With every word, George seemed to be looking paler and paler. I noticed him look at the door desperately. Did he want to flee? From this, from marriage, from me? I tried to entrance him with my eyes but he wouldn't look at me, it was frustrating. Once the priest had finished his seemingly endless murmering, George suddenly leaned forward and kissed me. Before I could react, he had let go. People began to clap. I ignored them, i looked up to George's handsome face. He was grimacing at the crowd. We quickly walled out of the room, feeling superior and proud. We were in my dressing room that I had been in just an hour before. I looked at the bed awkwardly. I walked over to it and stroked its wooden design. He looked at my hand. I streched my fingers out and tapped a tune. He shivered so I stopped. He still looked sick. He ran his fingers through his mane of brown hair. I could tell he was stressed. Why, surely he should be relieved that we were married? He covered one of his eyes with his hand, he rubbed it and sighed.

"George-" i started .

"We are to see the king." He interrupted quickly.

It seemed like I annoyed him by saying his name. He acted like he couldn't bear the sound lf my voice. It didn't make any sense. He rarely ever did. I think I loved him for that. A complex character is normally understands more. But George doesn't understand me. He will soon and I shall understand him. We shall tell each other everything. After all, we are now husband and wife. As I thought this, George stalked out the room rapidly. I hurried out after him. He didn't hold the door open for me. I had to struggle with the door for a second. By the time I was out in the corridor, George was at the other side. He was tapping his foot rhythmically, he had a great sense of tune. We shared a fondness for music. I walked over to him more slowly. I was a lady, I wasn't going to run. Once I reached George he pushed the door open. It led to a familiar room. We walked through. George was a very quick walker. He had to wait again at the next open door. He was taking me to one of the King's rooms. I went there often, with Queen Catherine. For some reason, I felt less relaxed. The king rarely noticed me, let alone talked to me. We reached the next door. George breathed in, then he knocked the wooden door.

*Authors Note: Hi! Do you like the story so far? I have always found Lady Rochford a very interesting character, so when I got the inspiration for the story I started straight away! Please let me know what you think so far. How can I improve? It takes a while to write a story based on fact as there is so much research to do! So how about I only continue if I get one vote? Thanks in advance.

TudorMad :) *