CHAPTER 14

THOMASCranmer, the Archbishop of Canterbury, was known to be a gentle man. He had not, to his immense relief, been required to go upon the king”s summer progress. The archbishop stood more with the Reformation than with orthodox Catholicism. The young queen and her family espoused orthodoxy. The archbishop had looked forward to a quiet summer of prayer, meditation, and visits to little Prince Edward, who had also been left behind. The king”s heir was considered too tender to be exposed to so long a trip.

And the summer had gone exactly as the archbishop had anticipated. There were no crises. There was no king suffering from a troubled conscience, which usually meant he wanted to rid himself of a wife. It had been absolute bliss until his secretary announced one day that a John Lascelles sought an audience with the archbishop to discuss a most important matter.

Thomas Cranmer knew all about John Lascelles. He was a fanatic. A reformer. A man who had absolutely no fear of the heretic”s fire because he believed his view of God and the Church was the correct one. The archbishop sensed that Lascelles”s visit portended trouble, but God only knew what he would do or to whom he would go next if Thomas Cranmer did not see him. The king and the court would be back within a few weeks” time. Better to get this over with and send Lascelles back to obscurity.

The archbishop sighed deeply and said to his secretary, ”Is he waiting outside, Robert?” Of course he was.

”Aye, Your Grace, he is,” the young priest replied.

Another sigh. ”Very well, then, I will see him now.”

The archbishop”s secretary smiled sympathetically at his master, saying, ”I will bring him in, my lord.”

Lascelles bustled in, filled with great self-importance. ”My lord archbishop, I thank you for seeing me so quickly,” he said, bowing.

The archbishop”s secretary discreetly withdrew.

”Sit down, sir,” Thomas Cranmer said, ”and speak your peace.”

Lascelles seated himself and began. ”I have information of a most delicate and possibly dangerous nature, my lord. It concerns the queen.” Lascelles paused to take a breath, for his words had come out in a great rush with his eagerness.

I do not want to hear this, the archbishop thought to himself. The king is happy. Whatever this man says will make the king unhappy. Have we not had enough difficulties with wives, dear Lord? Must Henry Tudor and England suffer further? He looked directly at Lascelles. ”Say on, sir, but be advised if this is merely tittle-tattle, or idle gossip, I shall have you beaten from my palace. I know the direction in which you go. I have not time for foolishness.”

”I regret, my lord,” Lascelles said, ”that what I have to say is truth.” Master Lascelles went on to tell the archbishop a tale told him by his sister, Mistress Mary Hall, a chamberer in the household of the old dowager duchess of Norfolk. Mistress Hall had known Catherine Howard since she came into the care of the duke. She had been very involved in raising the girl, and was deeply fond of her. The picture Lascelles painted of the young queen”s youth was not, however, a pretty one.

”Is your sister a woman given to gossip, Master Lascelles?” Thomas Cranmer asked sternly when his visitor had concluded his tale. The charges made by this man were very serious indeed.

”My sister is a good Christian woman, Your Grace. It is not in her nature to lie. Besides, there were others in the dowager”s household, now members of the queen”s household, who were also privy to the lady Catherine”s bad behavior. If asked under oath, they would testify to my sister”s veracity and the queen”s youthful misbehavior.”

”I will hear no more from you today, Master Lascelles. I wish to speak with your sister, Mistress Hall. You but repeat that which you say she has told you. She is the witness to the facts of this matter. Bring her to me tomorrow, and I will examine her,” Thomas Cranmer said.

John Lascelles arose from his seat and bowed to the churchman. ”I will bring Mary to you in the morning, my lord,” he promised.

When his disturbing visitor had departed, the archbishop sat back and contemplated what he had been told. It was a shocking story. Was it true? Though aware that the queen”s Howard relations were not reform-minded, Thomas Cranmer never considered Catherine Howard or her family a threat to the Reformation in England. Duke Thomas had no violently deep religious convictions. He simply liked things done in the manner in which they had always been done. He did not like change, and resisted it where he could, but he also knew how to bend in a strong wind in order to survive.

John Lascelles, on the other hand, was fanatical, and determined in his desire to see Catholicism in its most orthodox form eradicated from England, from its Church, from the minds of its people. He was the sort of man who would dare, or do, anything to gain his way in the matter. Was he to be believed? Why had his sister suddenly come to him now and told him the secrets of the dowager duchess”s household when the king had been married for over a year to the young queen? Did Lascelles believe that by slandering the queen he could engineer her removal and bring about the king”s remarriage to a reformist? He was a fool if he thought he could manipulate Henry Tudor, or the see of Canterbury.

On the following morning Mistress Mary Hall arrived with her brother for her audience with the archbishop. She was a pretty woman, and had obviously dressed in her very best gown to meet him. It was dark silk with a more modest neckline than he was used to seeing. Her head was covered with a pretty French hood, and she curtsied to him most politely, dipping her head in respect.

”You will wait outside, Master Lascelles,” he told the woman”s brother. ”Mistress Hall will be quite safe with me. Come, my daughter, and we will talk.” He led her into his privy chamber and closed the door behind them firmly. ”It is a wet and dank day, Mistress Hall,” the archbishop said. ”We will sit by the fire while we talk.” He was doing his best to put her at her ease, for he wanted every detail that he could convince her to recall about this matter. With luck, it would go no further than this room, and he would not have to act on it at all. Lascelles, he had decided in the night, was naught but a troublesome fanatic who would eventually have to be dealt with.

Thomas Cranmer waited politely while Mistress Hall settled her skirts about her. He pressed a small cup of sweet watered wine upon her, then sitting back in his own chair, he said, ”Tell me why you spoke to your brother regarding the queen”s former life.”

”I did not want to, Your Grace,” Mary Hall said, ”and I should never have said a word, for as naughty as Mistress Cat was, I hoped her marriage had changed her for the better. John, and my husband Robert, however, were constantly at me for not seeking a place in the queen”s household. I said I did not want a place with the queen, but they would not let it rest. They persisted and they persisted. Each day I was told of another of my former friends in the dowager duchess”s household who had sought and been granted a place with the queen. I can manage my husband, but John is a different kettle of fish. Finally I went to him, and I told my brother to leave me be, for I did not want a place with the queen. Indeed I felt sorry for her.

” ”Why?” he asked. ”Because,” I said to him, ”all those women are demanding service with her. She dares not to refuse them lest they gossip of her former life at Horsham, and Lambeth.” I did not feel it was Christian of them to do so, Your Grace. If the queen had called upon me to serve her, I should have gone gladly, but I did not want to be like the others, implying a threat, demanding service.

”My explanation was not enough for John. He is worse than a rat terrier when he gets his teeth into something. He wanted to know exactly what the queen had done as a girl that would give others the opportunity to press her. Mind you, I think much of what went on was not really her fault. She was a young girl, an innocent. She was always being pressured by one or another of the gentlemen. I tried to warn her, but she is so headstrong, and I was but a chamberer.

”The dowager never saw what was going on. She did not want to see it. When there was a problem with her charges, she would act, but she rarely saw a problem unless it was pointed out to her. In this case the others did not want to bring to her attention what was going on beneath her roof, for they were as involved themselves in the wickedness, and having much too much of a good time.”

”Tell me everything you remember,” the archbishop said quietly. He had such a kind and gentle manner about him that Mary Hall felt completely at ease, which was just what the archbishop intended.

”I have known the queen since she was a wee bit of a thing, sir. I looked after her when she and her sisters first came to Horsham. Oh, she was such a naughty little thing, but her heart was good. You could not help but love her, and I did. The year before she went up to Lambeth Palace from Horsham, I told the dowager how much she loved music. My mistress sent a musician from her household, a handsome, feckless young man called Henry Manox, down to teach my lady Catherine how to play upon the lute, and how to sing pleasingly.

”Young Manox sought far above his station. My poor little mistress thought he meant to wed with her when indeed all he really intended was to have her virtue. Oh, he was a bad one, was Master Manox! I warned him away from her, but they met secretly, I later learned. Then one day when the old dowager was visiting, she caught my mistress and Manox fondling each other”s parts. She beat them both for their impudence, and sent Manox back up to London.”

”Did your lady regret his departure?” the archbishop asked.

”Nay, not really,” Mary Hall said matter-of-factly. ”She had told anyone who would listen that she meant to wed with him, and that they were plight-trothed. It was not so, however. ”Twas but the dream of a maid with her first love. He could have been the love of her life, and she would have not been allowed to marry him. She is a Howard after all. He, a common musician.”

”Of course,” Thomas Cranmer agreed, nodding. ”When did the lady Catherine come up to London, Mistress Hall?”

”Oh, ”twas a good year later, sir, and there was Manox waiting for her, eager to take up where he had left off, but she would have none of him then. She told him so in no uncertain terms. He was not happy about it, I can assure you, for I”m certain he had been bragging about his earlier adventure with her, and how she would come back to him.”

The archbishop leaned over and refilled Mistress Hall”s little goblet, smiling as he did so. ”Go on, madame. Tell me about Francis Dereham. When did he meet the lady Catherine, and how involved with one another did they become?” He leaned back in his chair to listen.

”Francis Dereham was one of the duke”s gentlemen pensioners. Like Manox, he was not her equal, but he did not let it bother him. Manox, of course, was pea-green with jealousy when he saw Master Dereham beginning to pay court to my mistress. She was totally entranced when the two men began fighting bitterly over her. She was the envy of every girl at Lambeth.

”Dereham gained the upper hand with Lady Catherine almost immediately. He was a great deal more dashing than poor Henry Manox, and had a better position. He could play the gentleman while the lutanist could not. Manox faded away, embittered, even as Francis Dereham rose in my young lady”s favor. Still, he was not a true gentleman. He made far too bold with my mistress, but when I scolded her about it she told me, ”Francis has said we will wed one day.” ”What?” I replied. ”Is this the same silliness as ”twas with Master Manox? You do not have the right to pledge yourself to anyone, my girl! Your uncle, the duke, will choose a husband for you when the time comes, and that will be that.” ”I will have none but Francis Dereham,” she insisted.

”At that point, my lord archbishop, our long friendship began to wither away. I could not condone my lady”s naughty behavior. Then Dereham threatened me. ”If you tell the dowager duchess,” he said to me, ”I will claim you are a liar and seek to harm me, for you are in love with me and I will not return your love. You will lose your position, and who will have you then?” What could I do but remain silent?”

”Do you know of any improprieties Master Dereham may have taken with the lady Catherine?” Thomas Cranmer asked her.

”Indeed, sir, I do, although my mistress excused them on the grounds that they were to marry one day. All the young people in the house believed that, for both of them constantly talked of it. At least Dereham”s intentions were honorable, though Manox”s were not. Many nights Dereham would creep into the dormitory where the young women slept and climb into Mistress Catherine”s bed. I had been used to sleeping with her, but I would not do so any longer. I was a married woman. I well knew what all that puffing and blowing in the night was about. Several of the more chaste girls refused to sleep near her for such noises shamed them.”

The archbishop was horrified. ”Are you saying, Mistress Hall, that the lady Catherine was not a virgin when she married the king? That she gave herself willingly in carnal copulation to Master Dereham?”

”I cannot say for certain under God”s oath, my lord, for the bed curtains were closed; but I believe that she was not a virgin when she left Lambeth for court,” Mistress Hall told him.

”What else?” he asked her.

”They called each other husband and wife,” she said. ”Everyone heard them, and knew of it. Once he kissed her publicly, and so passionately that we remonstrated with him for fear the dowager would see them. Master Dereham replied, ”What? Shall a man not be permitted to kiss his wife?” The lady Catherine was somewhat embarrassed by him then. She was growing more aware of who she was, and considered his behavior a trifle coarse. I believe she would have been happy to be rid of him then, yet she continued to entertain him in her bed. Manox, angry that Dereham had succeeded where he had failed, began bragging to all who would listen that he knew of a secret mark on my lady Catherine”s body. I warned him to silence, disgusted by then by what was happening, but unable to stop it.

”Finally the lady Catherine convinced Dereham that if he was indeed to marry her one day he would have to make his fortune, or the duke, her uncle and her guardian, would not even consider his suit. I know that she knew then that she was to go to court as a maid of honor to the new queen, the Princess of Cleves. The dowager duchess had just told her of her appointment, and had impressed upon her the honor involved. The lady Catherine was very eager to be rid of Dereham. He left her with his life savings, one hundred pounds, and went off to Ireland. The money, he said, was to be hers if he did not come back. He truly believed he was to be her husband, my lord. I heard the rumor that in Ireland he turned to piracy, but I cannot know for certain.” She quaffed her wine.

The Archbishop of Canterbury felt as if a huge weight had been lain across his narrow shoulders. ”Who in the queen”s household was with her at Horsham and Lambeth?” he asked Mary Hall.

Mistress Hall considered a moment, and then she said, ”There is Katherine Tylney, Margaret Morton, Joan Bulmer, and Alice Restwold, Your Grace. I do not think there are any others.”

”Will they confirm your words, Mistress Hall?” he said seriously.

”If they are honest they will, my lord,” she told him.

He nodded. ”You are not to speak of this to anyone, madame. Not even to your brother. What you have told me indicates that the queen led an unchaste life before her marriage to the king. That in itself is not treason, but it might indicate that she has led an unchaste life since her marriage. Bad habits are often difficult to change. I must speak with these chamberers now serving the queen, however, before I make any decision in this matter, Mistress Hall. That is why I must request your silence. I may want to speak with you again.” He arose. ”Let me take you back to your brother, and I will instruct him as well in his behavior. Master Lascelles is sometimes overly enthusiastic in the pursuit of his cause. He is known for it.”

The archbishop escorted Mary Hall from his privy chamber. Seeing them, John Lascelles leapt to his feet and hurried toward them. The archbishop held up his hand for silence before the man might speak.

”Your sister”s speech with me is confidential and not to be discussed between you two, Master Lascelles. I intend to investigate the matter further, based upon what your sister has told me. I may call upon you both again in the near future to testify before me. Do you understand me, sir?”

Lascelles nodded. Taking his sister by the arm, the two left the archbishop”s palace in Southwark. Behind them England”s highest and most powerful cleric was left behind to mull over what he had been told. He could see no wickedness in Mistress Hall. Indeed, if anything, she was sympathetic to the queen, even if she disapproved of her former mistress”s behavior. It was that behavior that troubled the archbishop.

There was no doubt in Thomas Cranmer”s mind that Catherine Howard was a fickle young woman. She obviously fell in and out of love as easily as one changed one”s linen. Henry Tudor”s courtship had undoubtedly overwhelmed her. The king might be a corpulent, middle-aged man, but the power he represented, the wealth at his disposal, all must have been extremely heady and tempting to an unsophisticated young girl barely out of the country. He shook his head. Was she still in love with the king? Or had she already fallen out of love? Publicly she seemed a model wife, and God only knew the king was desperately in love with her.

What was he to do? the archbishop wondered. If the queen”s behavior today was moral and decent, if she had honestly reformed her wicked ways, was there any advantage to bringing up her less than savory past before her marriage? The king would not be pleased to have the reputation of his rose without a thorn besmirched. I must pray on it, Thomas Cranmer thought. God will guide me. He walked slowly into his private chapel, and kneeling down upon his little prie-dieu, closed his eyes, folded his hands together, and prayed.

THEking returned to Hampton Court and ordered that on All Saints” Day a service be offered of special prayers of thanksgiving for their safe return and for his wonderful queen. Henry Tudor stood before his court in the Chapel Royal and publicly declared, ”I render thanks to Thee, O Lord, that after so many strange accidents that have befallen my marriages, Thou has been pleased to give me a wife so entirely conformed to my inclinations as her I now have.”

Nyssa de Winter”s eyes met those of her husband”s at the king”s public declaration. Varian took her hand in his and squeezed it encouragingly. From his place on the archbishop”s throne upon the high altar, Thomas Cranmer heard the king”s humble words of thanks and knew what he must now do. John Lascelles was not a man to let go of this matter, having brought it to the attention of the proper authorities. The archbishop knew that if he did nothing else, he must lay the facts of this possible scandal, as he knew them, before the king. He retired after the service to write the king a letter.

At the mass the following day, All Souls” Day, Thomas Cranmer slipped a parchment containing his knowledge of the queen”s early life into the king”s hand.

”What is this, Thomas?” the king whispered to him.

”For your eyes alone, my liege. When you have read it, I will be at your grace”s disposal,” the archbishop replied.

The king nodded solemnly, and tucked the parchment into his vast sleeve. When the services had ended, he kissed his wife and hurried to his privy chamber to peruse what the archbishop had given him. He closed the door behind him, indicating to those who served him that he wanted to be alone. Laying the parchment upon a table, he poured himself a large goblet of rich, sweet red wine. He drank it down, and reaching for the missive, broke the archbishop”s seal. He spread the parchment out and began to read. With each damning word his brow darkened. His chest grew tight as he attempted to draw a deep breath. For a brief moment the words on the parchment swam before his eyes. When his vision had cleared, the king raised his fist and slammed it down upon the table.

”Lies!” he ground out. ”Filthy lies! I will not believe this foulness that the archbishop has presented me with, and I will have this man, Lascelles, arrested and clapped in the Tower!” He strode toward the door, and yanking it open, called to his personal page.

”Fetch the archbishop to me this instant!” he roared.

The page, white-faced, nodded and ran off. The king”s gentlemen looked questioningly at each other but said nothing. Henry Tudor retreated into his privy chamber, slamming the door behind him so hard that it shook upon its stout hinges. Pouring himself another great goblet of wine, he drank it down in hopes of calming his nerves. He had never in his life been so angry. Even when the first Katherine had been so difficult, he had not felt such anger. For anyone to foul the good name of his darling young queen was outrageous. This Lascelles would suffer for his slander. When he was finished with this fellow, he would wish he had never been born. Henry”s fist slammed down onto the table again in a white hot fury.

Thomas Cranmer had known that the summons would quickly come. He followed the king”s page through the corridors of Hampton Court Palace, his robes swaying just slightly, his hands folded neatly into his sleeves. The boy sent to fetch him was pasty with his obvious fear. The archbishop had calmed the lad with gentle words, and then allowed the boy to lead him back to the king. The king whirled about as the archbishop entered his privy chamber, his face a mask of outraged anger.

”This,” the king snarled, shaking the parchment at his chief cleric, ”this is filth! How could you pass it on to me? I want this Lascelles and his sister, Mistress Hall, arrested. It is treason to accuse the queen falsely, Cranmer. Treason!”

”There may be no treason, Your Grace,” the archbishop said calmly. ”Lascelles is a Protestant fanatic, ”tis true, but his sister, Mistress Hall, harbored a deep affection for the queen. She helped to raise her. Her brother nagged at her to seek a place with the queen, and she refused, for the queen”s early behavior had disturbed her. She is a decent woman, my lord. She only told her brother of the queen”s youthful indiscretions so that he would leave her in peace. She did not want the queen to feel she was pressuring her to take her into her household. ”Tis a pity others were not as scrupulous in their motives. At least four of the queen”s women were with her at Lambeth. ”Tis curious, is it not?”

”This Dereham fellow arrived at Pontefract in August when we were there,” the king told the archbishop. ”Catherine made him her secretary. She said the old dowager sent him, and asked that we treat him with kindness. I let her have her way, although I did not like him.”

”Hummmmm,” the archbishop said with understatement.

”If it happened before we met, there is no treason, nor is there any adultery,” Henry Tudor said slowly, ”but get to the bottom of this pot, Thomas. I want no scandals later on. If the queen gives us a Duke of York, the boy”s paternity should not be in doubt over such a thing as this. Find the truth, and then we will decide what to do.”

”I will be most discreet, Your Grace,” the archbishop said.

”Thomas,” the king asked him, ”why does God keep trying me like this? All those years to get a healthy son, and if the truth be known, the boy is not that strong. I came back to learn that he was ill. The doctors say he is too fat, and overprotected. I have ordered a regimen of exercise and simple meals for him. No sweets. He is better already. God”s foot, Thomas! There wasn”t even a window open in his apartment so the boy could get some fresh air. They were treating him like a little idol! Do I ask for a great deal, Thomas? I want sons. I want a good woman to wife. I am so happy with my Catherine. Is she to be taken from me?”

The king was beginning to feel sorry for himself, the archbishop saw, but then every man was entitled to wallow occasionally in self-pity. Not only had the king returned to news of his heir”s illness, and now this disturbing and possible scandal over the queen; but he had just received word that his sister Margaret, the Dowager Queen of Scotland, had died. It was not that he and Margaret had been close. He had been far closer to his late sister Mary. Still, it was one more link with the past broken; a grim but firm reminder of his mortality.

”This business may be nothing more than a fuss over naught,” the archbishop soothed his master. ”Many maids are not quite what they seem to be when they marry. It is not the way I would have it, but it happens. If the lady Agnes was as lax in her guardianship, as it would certainly appear, it seems to me the fault lies with her, not with poor Queen Catherine, who was, after all, an unsophisticated girl. I will delve carefully into this business, learn the whole truth, and then as quickly inform your grace of my findings.”

The king nodded. ”Whatever you need, Thomas.”

”I have your grace”s permission to question certain individuals?”

”Aye. Do what you have to do. Ahh, God, I miss Crum!”

”God assoil his soul,” the archbishop murmured piously.

”Thomas.”

”Yes, Your Grace?”

”See that the queen is confined to her apartments until her good name is cleared. She may have only Lady Rochford to attend her. I shall not see her until this matter is settled in her favor.”

”I will give the order, Your Grace,” Thomas Cranmer said softly. He put a comforting hand on the king”s shoulder. ”Courage, Henry,” he said. ”God”s will be done.”

”Amen,” the king answered, but he did not turn his face to the archbishop, else his friend see the anguish there, and not be able to do his duty. Thomas Cranmer could be trusted, and few others around him could be. They all looked to their own advantage.

The archbishop departed the king”s privy chamber. In the anteroom outside, the king”s gentlemen looked to him for some sort of explanation as he passed, but he gave them none. He simply raised his hand in blessing as he moved by them.

Nyssa was with the queen when the household guard arrived. She and the other ladies had been practicing a new dance just brought to court from France. The women were at first frightened by the armed men.

The captain of the guard stepped forward and bowed politely to the queen. ”Madame, on the king”s orders, you are to be confined to your apartments. Your women are all dismissed, and only Lady Rochford may remain with you.”

”Captain,” the queen said, her tone imperious, ”what mean you coming to my chambers in such a fashion? Can you not see we are learning a new dance for the Christmas festivities?”

”Madame,” the captain replied, ”there is no more time to dance.” Then without another word he began shooing her servants from the apartments. The queen”s ladies needed no further encouragement. Picking up their skirts, they fled their mistress, each eager to be the first to spread the news that something terrible was about to happen.

”Nyssa!” Catherine Howard”s tone was suddenly frightened. ”Do not leave me! I am afraid.”

”I am afraid for all of us, Cat,” Nyssa replied. Then she lowered her voice and whispered to the queen, ”Say nothing, Cat, until you learn what they know; and precisely what this is all about.” She then curtsied to her and departed after the other women.

”Captain,” the queen said. ”Why am I being confined like this? Can I not see the king?”

”Madame, I regret that I do not know,” the man replied honestly.

”I will go and speak with his grace, dear madame,” Lady Rochford told the frightened young woman. ”I will ask him why you are imprisoned.” She moved to the doors of the apartment, but the captain blocked her way.

”I am sorry, Lady Rochford, but you are to be incarcerated with the queen, and not allowed to come and go at will. Food will be brought to you. You will want for nothing.”

”Send me my confessor!” the queen demanded. ”If I am to be denied my freedom, and access to my husband, then I must be allowed a priest, sir. Surely the king will not deny me a priest!” Her voice was high and beginning to border on the hysterical.

”I will ask, madame,” was the captain”s noncommittal reply. He bowed again, and backed from the queen”s chambers.

Both she and Lady Rochford heard the key turn in the lock behind him. Wordlessly the two women ran to the other exits to the apartment, but they were all locked. Even the hidden door to the secret passageway that led to the king”s apartments was bolted from the other side. Lady Rochford peered from the windows of the apartment, and it was as if an icy hand had gripped her heart. Below, at ten-foot intervals, were yeomen of the guard standing armed.

”He knows!” the queen whispered frantically. ”What else can it be, Rochford? He knows!”

”Say nothing until you are accused,” Lady Rochford whispered back. ”You cannot be certain what the king has been told.”

Lady Jane Rochford could feel herself slipping back in time, back to a similar situation in which her sister-in-law, Anne Boleyn, found herself accused. Anne had been guilty of nothing, but to save her husband, George Boleyn, Lady Jane had agreed to testify against her. Her sole evidence had consisted of the fact that Anne and her brother had spent an afternoon in a closed room together. Jane had told the court in a pretrial hearing that she believed Anne desired to conspire against the king, but that her husband, George, had sought to dissuade her. Just tell of how they were closeted for that afternoon, she was instructed. The rest will come out through others.

Jane Rochford had done as she was told. But Cromwell and the others had betrayed her. She had testified, and then listened in horror as her words were interpreted to imply that Anne, the queen, had committed incest with George, Lord Rochford.

”Ahh, God, no!” she had cried out, and been forcibly removed from the courtroom. They had not let her see her husband again. She had not been able to tell him that she had said no such thing; that she had been tricked; that she did really love him. She had never told George that she loved him. Instead she had been sent away from court with thanks for her loyalty and the promise of reward one day. Her appointment to Anne of Cleves”s household was that reward, and later she had been appointed to Catherine Howard”s service, which was far better. The king had had no love for the German princess, but he loved and adored Cat Howard.

Jane Rochford had waited for what seemed like many years to revenge herself upon Henry Tudor. In her exile from court, she had thought often of how she would hurt him as she had been hurt. She wanted him to feel the pain that she had felt when they had entrapped her into betraying her husband; when her husband was executed so cruelly. That she risked her own life meant nothing to her at all. She had no husband. No children. The king had to pay for killing George. He would lose the one he loved most in all the world, even as she had lost the one that she loved most in all the world.

That was why she had encouraged Thomas Culpeper and Catherine Howard into adultery. It had not been hard. The queen was a flighty, silly girl with ridiculous romantic notions. She had not the wit of a flea. She had honestly believed as long as she kept the king content, she could play her wanton little games and get away with them. As for Culpeper, he was a proud young man with a great opinion of himself, and he had fallen in love with Catherine Howard. She did not know which of them was the greater fool. How could they not see their foolish love was doomed?

Who had told on them? Lady Rochford wondered. She had intended to expose them herself, but not until the queen was well along with a bastard child. The king, she knew from the queen, had not been able to perform satisfactorily of late. He would know any child got on the queen was not of his making. He would either have to expose her or accept the bastard as his own. Either way, he would suffer the tortures of the damned. But now, Lady Rochford realized, something had happened. Some new unknown element had been introduced. Someone else had informed on the queen. Who was it? And why? What exactly did they know? She was a little afraid. If they knew about the queen, did they know about her?

Taking the queen”s cold little hand in hers, she patted it, saying, ”Remember, Catherine Howard, admit to nothing. You do not know what anyone has said, and for now it is just their word against yours. The king loves you best of all his wives, even your cousin Anne. He will believe you, but you must not panic.”

Cat shuddered. ”Do not mention her name to me. I cannot help but remember how she ended up. I do not want to die, Rochford!”

”Then say nothing, and when accused, deny everything,” Lady Rochford said silkily. ”Naught can happen to you if you are clever. There is no proof of anything untoward in your behavior.” At least no proof that they can find, she thought, but if they can find nothing, they will manufacture it. That is how the king ridded himself of Anne Boleyn, but then he was out of love with her by then, and enamored of the Seymour chit. He is still in love with this girl. Ohh, I wish I could find out what it was they knew. Perhaps we can bribe one of the servitors who brings our food. I must know what is going on!

Nyssa had been frantically seeking her husband, and finally found him with the Duke of Norfolk. ”The queen is confined to her apartments under guard, with only Rochford to attend her. The others have all been dismissed!” she told them breathlessly. ”The archbishop, I learned from one of the guards, is in charge of the investigation.”

”Jesus Christus!” Norfolk swore volubly. ”Could you learn anything else, madame? Why is Catherine confined? There is no other woman, I know, and the king absolutely adores her. What has gone wrong?”

”Do you really care?” Nyssa demanded of him. ”Is your distress for Catherine Howard, or for yourself, my lord duke?”

”Your wife”s tongue could easily lose her her head,” the duke said sourly to his grandson.

”My lord,” Nyssa said angrily, ”I have addressed you, and yet you ignore me. You do it all the time, and I resent it. Varian and I are here at court at the request of your niece, the queen. We would far prefer to be home with our children. If this queen you set up is tumbled down, are we not all in danger?”

Thomas Howard looked directly at Nyssa and said a single word, ”Aye.” His long face was grave, his eyes, usually fathomless, worried.

For a brief moment Nyssa felt sorry for him. Her voice dropped and she beckoned him closer to her. ”The queen may be caught in adultery, my lord,” Nyssa told him softly. ”I cannot be certain, but why else would the archbishop be involved in this matter?”

”What do you know?” he asked quietly.

She told him, even as Varian put a protective arm about her.

”Why did you not tell me before this?” the duke asked her.

”Because,” Nyssa said bluntly, ”you would have exposed her to save your own self. I knew eventually she would be found out. I hoped when that day came, Varian and I would be long gone from court, and forgotten by a vengeful king out to destroy the Howards.”

A wintry smile touched the duke”s lips. He nodded, understanding her rationale. Like him, she had an instinct for survival. Her family came first in her life, even as his had always come first in his. ”You will not be able to flee to your Winterhaven now, lest it look like you run to escape some guilt or culpability,” he told her. ”You will have to ride out whatever storm there is here with the rest of us.”

”I know that,” Nyssa told him, ”and I will never forgive you if harm comes to Varian or our children through the Howards.”

”I know that,” he responded. ”You are a woman with a long memory for a fault, madame. Keep silent on what you know, for what you know may not be at the root of the problem at all. I will go to the archbishop myself and ask him what this is all about. He will tell me.”

”And will you tell us?” she asked him. ”Or will you husband the information and leave us to wonder?”

”You will be kept informed,” he said, and left them.

”What else could it be?” Varian asked his wife when they were alone again. ”What could she have done to merit house arrest?” He went to the sideboard and poured them each a small goblet of wine.

Seated together before the fire, they sipped their wine and spoke in soft voices so as not to be overheard.

”Before her marriage Cat spoke of a rather unorthodox childhood in the old dowager”s house,” Nyssa told her husband. ”The maidens were left badly supervised, if looked after at all. She told me of two men who tried to seduce her. I told her to tell the king these things so that one day they could not be used against her, but she would not. She was afraid that he might not marry her if she did.”

”It is possible, then,” he said thoughtfully, ”that this unchaste life may have been dragged up to discredit her with the king, but who would do such a thing to poor Catherine? She has not the brain of a peahen, I fear, but her heart is good. Who seeks to harm her?”

Nyssa merely shook her head.

”We must behave as if we know nothing,” Varian told her. ”We cannot draw attention to ourselves, sweeting, lest we be dragged into whatever sort of scandal is brewing.”

”Aye,” she agreed. ”With God”s good luck, this matter will soon be settled and we can go home to Winterhaven.”