CHAPTER 15

THEarchbishop questioned John Lascelles and his sister, Mary Hall, once again. He allowed the Duke of Norfolk to sit with him in silence when he did. When they had departed, he turned to the duke, asking him, ”What think you, my lord duke?”

Thomas Howard was slightly gray in color. He was genuinely disturbed by Mistress Hall”s account of life in his stepmother”s house. Most of the young women in the family had been entrusted to the dowager duchess”s care at one time or another. They would have been better raised by the hounds in his kennels, he thought, but he was very circumspect in his answer to the cleric. ”I cannot rely upon only the word of a servant in such a serious matter, my lord,” he said gravely. ”I must speak with my stepmother to learn what she has to say in her defense.”

”Aye, I shall want to speak with the lady Agnes myself,” Thomas Cranmer said quietly. ”I am appalled she did not exercise better control over those young innocents in her charge.”

”As am I,” the duke replied grimly. He hurried off to Lambeth to speak with his stepmother.

The Dowager Duchess of Norfolk had already heard the news of the queen”s confinement. Rumors were flying regarding the matter. If the misconduct had taken place in her house, she would be blamed. She was frantically searching the house for any incriminating evidence left behind by Catherine when she departed to go to court. Her stepson”s arrival did not do anything to ease her mind. ”What news, Tom?” she asked him nervously.

”Why, madame, did you not tell me of Catherine”s misbehavior prior to our dangling her before the king”s nose?” he demanded of the old woman.

”I did not know,” Lady Agnes admitted, and then defended herself, ”Why should the blame be on me alone? These girls came to me for polishing before they went to court. I should not have had to be responsible for their morals.”

”Then it is true what they are saying? That you let the girls in your charge run loose like bitches in heat? God”s boots, madame! Where was your good sense? Surely you must have known that a scandal of this nature would erupt eventually! With the others it would not have mattered, but this was the girl we singled out to be queen!”

”You are panicking, Tom,” his stepmother said. ”If the offense took place before the marriage, indeed before Catherine even met the king, she cannot lose her head for that. What is the worst that can possibly happen? He will put her away and marry another wife. The Howards will be out of favor again, as they were in the time of Anne Boleyn”s fall. But, we will survive to play the game another day, I think.” She smiled encouragingly at him.

”Perhaps,” he said. ”I have just come from the archbishop. I sense he seeks something more than has been given him. I do not believe he will find it, but if he does, then the situation will be far worse, madame.”

The Archbishop of Canterbury pondered his second interview with Lascelles and his sister. They had not deviated a whit from their stories. Then there was the new knowledge he had just obtained from the king: that the queen”s former lover, Francis Dereham, was now in her household. Why had Catherine taken this man into her service if she did not mean to take up with him again? He was young, and handsome, and undoubtedly vigorous in bed sport, unlike the aging, overweight king.

He had not proof as of yet, but could there possibly be adultery involved? That would mean treason. He shuddered. He had been given a mandate from the king to get to the bottom of the pot, but now it would seem that the pot was far deeper, and possibly dirtier, than he had ever anticipated. Still, there was no going back now.

He met with his fellow members of the Privy Council and laid the facts he had gathered to date in the matter before them. It was agreed that there was a basis for proceeding further in the investigation. The king was summoned and told of the council”s suspicions, particularly the new ones regarding Francis Dereham. He groaned unhappily.

The archbishop told the king, ”She has betrayed you in thought, and if she had an opportunity, would have betrayed you in deed.”

The king put his head in his hands.

”Your Grace, I have no substantive evidence to date that would prove the queen has been unfaithful, but we must seek for such evidence if for no other reason than to clear her grace”s name,” the archbishop explained gently. ”No stone can be left unturned.”

The king looked up bleakly at his council, and then to their great amazement, Henry Tudor began to weep openly. ”How could she betray me when I have loved her so greatly?” he cried, and then he slumped back in his chair sobbing bitterly.

They were shocked. They were astounded! Every man on the council knew in that moment how deeply the king had loved Catherine Howard. The more cynical among them wondered, however, how long that love would have lasted. They were embarrassed nonetheless that a man of his personal courage would have given in so to his emotions, yet they admired him for it. They could see their sovereign become an old man before their very eyes. It was a terrifying experience, for it touched on their own mortality.

The king arose heavily from the council table. ”I am going hunting,” he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his big hand.

Henry Tudor departed Hampton Court for Oatlands within an hour of his departing the council chamber. He took only half a dozen companions. He needed time to nurse his wounds. He did not want to have to face the public at this moment. He did not want to be there when the queen was officially informed of the charges that were to be lodged against her. Earlier, before he had left Hampton Court, he had gone to his chapel to pray, and to calm himself. Suddenly, outside, he had heard the sounds of scuffling, and Catherine”s young voice desperately shrieking his name.

”Henry! Henry, in the name of God speak with me!”

Afterward they told him that the queen had pushed past her startled guards when food was brought and raced to his private apartments, past his own personal servants, in her effort to seek him out. They had not wanted to lay hands on her, but finally had no choice. He was glad he had not seen her. One look at her pretty face and he would have forgiven her. She did not deserve his forgiveness. Cranmer had but hinted at her crime, but in his heart of hearts Henry Tudor knew that his wife was probably very guilty. Little incidences kept coming back to him. Why had she really insisted upon giving a place in her household to that Dereham fellow? The man looked like a pirate. He had wretched manners. The king had once been witness to his arrogance, and nasty temper, although Dereham had not been aware of Henry”s quiet presence.

The Duke of Norfolk felt very responsible for the disaster that had befallen the king in his fifth marriage. When he saw Henry Tudor”s unhappiness regarding Anne of Cleves, he had deliberately sought among the women in his own extended family for a substitute the king might favor. Thomas Howard had been so eager to place Catherine Howard on England”s throne that he had not investigated her youth thoroughly. If he had, he would have quickly found that the girl was unfit to be queen. Instead he had been as taken in by her plump prettiness as had the king. Now this girl had placed him in worse danger than Anne Boleyn had ever done. Still, Cat was his responsibility. He would do his duty.

The queen was visited by the council, and the charges against her were laid forth. Thomas Howard stood by his niece”s side. Catherine”s reaction was to have immediate hysterics. All she could think about was her cousin Anne. Like Anne, she was surely going to end upon the block. Still, they had not mentioned Tom Culpeper. It was just possible that they did not know. The charges, after all, did relate to her unchaste life before she became queen. And Duke Thomas was at her side. The Howards were not abandoning her. She struggled to calm herself, but it was not easy. She was very afraid.

By the following day, when the archbishop came to visit her, Catherine”s hysteria was again high. He could not reason with her, nor even make sense of the words she was babbling in her fear.

”She will neither eat nor take drink,” Lady Rochford said.

”I will return tomorrow,” Thomas Cranmer said. ”If she calms, tell her that I mean her no harm. I am here to help her.”

The archbishop returned the following day to find the queen still frenzied. This time, however, he would not retreat. He sat quietly with her, speaking gently, endeavoring to reach through her blind terror. Finally, when she had grown a little less agitated, he said to her, ”Madame, you must not disquiet yourself so. There is hope, I swear to you. See?” He drew a parchment from his sleeve. ”I bring you a letter from the king, your husband, offering to treat you mercifully if you will but admit to your faults.” He held it out to her.

She took it from him as if it were afire, then breaking the royal seal, read it, the tears pouring down her plump cheeks. ”Alas, my lord, that I have caused such troubles to the husband who has been so kind and good to me,” she told the archbishop.

”Madame, the king”s heart may be broken by the grievous nature of these charges against you, but he would offer you mercy from the love he bears you. You have but to admit to your wickedness.”

”I will answer all your questions, my lord, to the best of my ability and recollection,” she promised him. ”Will the king, my dearest lord, truly grant me his benign mercy? Do I even deserve it?” She could not cease weeping, and her eyes were red, but for the time being her hysterics were eased, and gone. She was struggling very hard to keep her composure.

”Our sovereign lord will deal gently with you, dear madame. All he would have of you is the truth in this matter,” Thomas Cranmer assured the terrified woman. ”You may confide in me, Catherine. I will do my best by you, I promise.”

Her cerulean-blue eyes were swollen with her weeping, her lashes matted into spiky points. Her auburn hair, usually so neatly coiffed, was unkempt and undone. She wore no jewelry, he noted, but the wedding band upon her finger. It was a departure for a woman who loved all of the royal jewels and was apt to deck herself in as many as possible each day. Catherine Howard was Thomas Cranmer”s picture of a fallen woman. She had guilt written all over her. Her very fear betrayed her.

The queen held up her hands. ”Thank God for the king”s goodness to me, although I am not worthy of it.”

”Will you trust me then, Catherine?” the archbishop said.

She nodded, but then fell to weeping again for a long moment. He waited for her sorrow to subside, and then she said to him, ”Alas, my lord, that I am alive! The fear of death did not grieve me so much before as doth now the remembrance of the king”s goodness, for when I remember how gracious and loving a prince I had, I cannot but sorrow. But this sudden mercy, more than I could have looked for, maketh mine offenses to appear before mine eyes much more heinous than they did before. And the more I consider the greatness of his mercy, the more I do sorrow in my heart that I should so misorder myself against his majesty.” She wept again, great gulping sobs of grief.

He could see that she had taken all she could for the moment, and so the archbishop left her, promising to return in the early evening.

When he had gone, Lady Rochford crept from the corner where she had been sitting. ”Say naught to him, you little fool,” she warned the queen. ”He seeks to convict you, and surely you will end on the block like your cousin Anne. Admit nothing! Where is their proof but in the idle tongues of jealous servants?”

”The king will grant me mercy if I will admit my faults,” Catherine said softly. ”I am afraid, Rochford. I do not want to die. If I admit to my liaisons with Dereham before my marriage, then I will be forgiven. I will not die!”

”Admit to anything, Catherine Howard, and you will no longer be Queen of England. Is it not better to die a queen than to live in ignominity and disgrace? If you admit to Dereham, the king will cast you off. Knowing that old satyr, he is probably already casting about for a new rose without a thorn to warm his bed and to be his queen.”

”Henry would not do such a thing!” the queen protested.

Lady Jane Rochford laughed bitterly. ”Jane Seymour was primly waiting in the wings as they readied the accusations against your cousin Anne. Did the king not let his eye wander between you and Lady Wyndham even when he was still wed to the Princess of Cleves? Perhaps it is your dear friend Nyssa who will replace you in the king”s affections.”

Catherine Howard slapped Jane Rochford. ”Do not dare to slander my cousin”s wife,” she said in a hard voice. ”Nyssa de Winter is probably the only person in the entire world that I can truly trust. I pray God that my actions have not endangered her, my cousin Varian, or their children. I will do what I must to protect the family. It is all I can do now.” She glared at her companion. ”You had best pray, Jane, that the king does not discover my relationship with Tom Culpeper, or your part in fostering that relationship. If I go to the block, you will go with me. And if my real crimes escape the king”s notice, I will spend the rest of my life being a good wife to him, if they will let me. If they will not, I will accept whatever portion I am allotted, and be grateful to be alive.”

”How noble you have suddenly become in the face of danger,” Lady Rochford said, rubbing her cheek. ”Are you certain that letter came from the king? When has Henry Tudor ever been known to be merciful when betrayed by a woman? Perhaps the archbishop forged the letter, and used the king”s seal in an effort to trick you, madame.”

Catherine Howard blanched. ”Surely the archbishop would not do a thing like that,” she said. ”He is a man of God!”

”Men of God who are servants of Henry Tudor are more apt to do the king”s bidding than follow their conscience. The king is a certainty they must live with every day. God is but a nebulous eventuality.”

The queen began to weep again. Was it possible the archbishop was going to betray her? She struggled to maintain her composure while behind her back Jane Rochford smiled to herself.

The many members of the Howard family, always in evidence at court, were suddenly not so evident. No one really knew what was going on, but everyone knew that the queen, adored yesterday, was today suddenly out of favor. How serious was it? There was no one to tell the court. All entertainments had been canceled. The king spent all his time in those first days of November hunting with just a few chosen companions, or closeted with his Privy Council. The queen was allowed no visitors. Those bringing food to her could only say that her grace was pale and not eating.

In the Duke of Norfolk”s apartments, Nyssa sat quietly by the fire in the dayroom embroidering her husband”s initials upon one of his shirts. She looked serene, but she was not. Thomas Howard, watching her, silently admired his grandson”s wife. He had known absolutely nothing about her other than the fact that she was standing in his family”s way when they had first met. Now that they were more or less trapped within these close quarters, he was discovering that she was a very intelligent, clever, loyal young woman. He also saw how very much Varian was in love with her. Well, at least something good had come of all his machinations, he considered bitterly.

Suddenly Nyssa looked up and her eyes locked onto his. ”What news, my lord?” she asked quietly.

”Nothing yet, madame,” he answered her. ”The archbishop continues to press Catherine. It is as if he seeks something other than he has. If he does not learn anything more, my niece will retain her pretty, vacuous head. If he does find something, she will die as she deserves to, I fear. There is still hope, I think.”

”Poor Cat,” Nyssa said. ”You should not have stressed all of the delights of being queen, my lord. You should have also told her of the difficulties involved, and the responsibilities, but you did not. She was ill-prepared to be a queen, but then I wonder if any girl is well-prepared.”

”She should have been prepared,” he told her. ”Catherine was born a Howard after all.”

Nyssa laughed. ”Is there something magical in being born a Howard, my lord? You make it sound as if being born a Howard endows a person with not just beauty and grace, but wisdom and the ability to meet any challenge. Your name is an ancient and honored one, but God did not give the Howards any more ability to struggle through life with than He gave the rest of us. It is past time you realized that.”

”Impudent chit!” he growled, and stamped from the chamber.

With a small smile of triumph, Nyssa returned to her embroidery. Besting Duke Thomas was very satisfying.

A servant entered the dayroom to announce that the king”s sister, the lady Anne, was here to see her. Anne of Cleves hurried in behind the man. Putting her needlework aside, Nyssa arose to greet her former mistress.

”Welcome, dear madame. Come and sit by the fire with me.”

”Ach! Such troubles for poor Hendrick and little Catrine,” Anne said. ”Vhat a surprise to learn of her life before court! The old Dowager Duchess of Norfolk vas certainly not a goot influence. Imagine allowing men to run about her house at night vith all those little girls in her charge. Is she dotty, then?” Anne settled herself, spreading her fashionable yellow velvet skirts about her. She accepted a silver goblet of wine from the attending servant, who then withdrew from the room.

”We are fortunate to have had good mothers and fathers to watch over us; to guide us; to see we learned morality,” Nyssa replied. ”Poor Cat was really quite badly brought up, I fear.”

”Ya,” Anne said sympathetically. ”God help her now, for who else vill? It is not a goot thing to be a qveen.”

”I have already heard a rumor that the king is considering returning to you, madame, should his marriage to Queen Catherine be over and done with,” Nyssa told Anne, who blanched.

”Gott und himmel, nein! I vill never marry vith that rutting old boar again! Once vas more than enough! I vould tink that Hendrick vas through vith marriage now. He does not seem to be able to find a voman who can suit him, and the only one he claimed did, died, Gott assoil her goot soul. He is an old man. Vhy vould he vant another vife?”

”You know he does not see himself as an old man,” Nyssa said. ”Besides, the council will insist he remarry, and attempt to father other children. Little Prince Edward is his only legitimate male heir. What if something should happen to him?”

”Nyssa, when vill you see that a voman is just as capable of ruling a country as a man? Hendrick has two daughters, and both of them are very bright. Especially my darling little Bess. Bess vould make a vonderful qveen, but it is unlikely she vill ever haf the chance. Poor child. She is very upset about Catrine. They are cousins, you know, through Bess”s mutter. Catrine has alvays been kind to her, and Gott knows few others haf. They hold the sins of the mutter against her little daughter. It is not kind.

”That is vhy I come to you today. Vhat is going on, Nyssa? Ve haf all heard the gossip about the qveen”s early life, but vhat else is there? Catrine”s behavior prior to her marriage to Hendrick cannot, my confessor tells me, be held against her as long as she has been a goot vife to Hendrick. Vhy do they continue to press her? Vhat do they suspect? Or is there some secret the court does not know? You vill know, for you are in this nest of Howards, and their safety depends upon the qveen”s fate.” She took a great draught of her wine.

”The Howards are just as mystified and frightened as the rest of us. Duke Thomas, to his chagrin, did not know of the queen”s early bad behavior. He is frantic the king will hold him responsible for all his unhappiness relating to the queen,” Nyssa said.

Anne of Cleves snorted. ”Duke Thomas is a vicked old man. He dangled that poor little girl beneath Hendrick”s lustful nose, and look vhat he did to you, my sveet Nyssa.”

”Ahh, but there, despite Duke Thomas, Varian and I have had a happy ending, madame. He loved me from the beginning, and I have come to love him. We were so happy at Winterhaven with our babies, until the queen demanded our presence on the progress. God, I hate the court!” She looked at Anne. ”Why did you not come this summer?”

”I am too vell liked by the people. They still are angry at poor Hendrick for replacing me. I tink that may be the reason for these silly rumors you mention that Hendrick vants me back. The king asked that I stay home this summer so he might present his young vife to his people. I vas happy to comply vith his vishes. I enjoyed being by myself. Bess came to visit vith me, although poor Mary vas forced to go on the progress. Mary does not like Catrine.”

”Princess Mary was hardly in evidence at all on the progress. She hunted with her father, but other than that, she only appeared on those special occasions when the king wished to present a united family front,” Nyssa said. ”She and her women were rarely seen, and kept to themselves.”

The two women sat chatting about a variety of things, of the coming holidays and how this distressing matter of Catherine Howard would affect them. Nyssa told Anne how they had wanted to leave the progress at Amphill, but that the king, in an effort to please his frivolous wife, had reneged on his promise to them.

”You know how I love the holidays at RiversEdge,” Nyssa said. She did not tell Anne of the real reason behind their desire to leave.

Finally the Princess of Cleves departed, and Nyssa returned to her embroidery. It was already dark outside with the coming winter, but with her young eyes she was able to see her work in the firelight. What was going to happen to poor Cat? Would they learn of her adultery, or would she somehow escape the revelation of her treasonous behavior?

The archbishop had gone again to the queen, and cajoled her into making a written declaration of her scandalous premarital adventures. Catherine firmly believed that her liaison with Dereham was no true contract, but the archbishop thought otherwise. He believed that he now had enough evidence to prove a precontract had existed between the former lovers. It was possible under such circumstances to invalidate the marriage. Catherine had not been a virgin when she came to the king. There were no children involved to be harmed. A potentially explosive situation could easily be avoided under these conditions, yet Thomas Cranmer was still not satisfied. He sensed that there was something else.

”You did what?” Jane Rochford”s narrow face was filled with rage. ”You stupid little fool! You have given the archbishop the very weapon he needs to see that your marriage is dissolved!”

”But the archbishop said the king would forgive me if I admitted to my wickedness,” the queen said. The fact that her lady-in-waiting had addressed her so disrespectfully went completely over her head.

”Aye, why should he not forgive his whore?” Lady Rochford was pleased to see that Catherine grew white with shock. She continued, ”For that is all you will be to the king if you admit to this willing liaison with Francis Dereham. The king”s whore. Not the Queen of England, but a royal mistress. Even your cousin Anne was never considered that, but then Anne Boleyn was an intelligent woman. You, poor child, have not the wit to know what you have done, do you?”

”Ohh, Rochford, what can I do?” Catherine whined. ”I do not want to be known as a common whore! Tell me what to do!”

”Call back the archbishop,” Lady Rochford said. ”Tell him you were so frightened that you did not make clear to him that Dereham came into you with force. Say he raped you, damnit!”

”Will the archbishop believe me?” the queen quavered.

”Why should he disbelieve you?” Lady Rochford said impatiently.

But Thomas Cranmer did not believe the queen when he was recalled and fed this new piece of information. Now he was quite certain that the queen was lying. What else was she lying about?

”Be careful what you say to me, madame, lest your life be forfeit. His grace is prepared to grant you mercy, but only if you speak the truth of this matter to us.”

”It is true!” Catherine insisted. ”I swear it! Dereham forced me!”

”Every time?” the archbishop said disbelievingly.

She nodded vigorously. ”Aye! I was never a willing party to his lustful intentions, I swear it! I wasn”t.”

”Your only hope, dear madame, is in the king”s forgiveness. I warn you again to take a care as to what you tell me and swear to.”

But Catherine Howard was now foolishly convinced that if she claimed rape, she would not be held responsible for her premarital conduct. Why should she not be believed? She remained adamant, and Thomas Cranmer could not sway her for the moment. In her confession she had said that Dereham asked her to marry him any number of times, but that she had refused him. When faced with the information that the chamberer, Mary Hall, had heard Catherine promise Dereham that she would love him always, unto death, that she indeed loved him with all her heart, the queen denied ever having said such a thing. It was Mary Hall”s word against hers, and the king loved her. He would believe her over everyone else, Catherine convinced herself. Had Rochford not said so? And Rochford was wise in the ways of the court.

The Duke of Norfolk despaired to his grandson over Catherine”s stubborn and childlike belief that if she admitted to nothing, nothing could be proved of her. ”Does she not see that by admitting to a precontract with Francis Dereham, she may save her life?” he said. ”If she says she was pledged to him first, then her marriage to Henry Tudor is invalid, and no adultery can be proved of her.”

”They have no proof of adultery?” the Earl of March replied.

”Cranmer suspects,” the duke answered his grandson. ”He thinks, of course, it is Dereham. That is why he is pressing her so. Catherine and our family represent the old form of worship. The archbishop is no fanatic, but he is a reformer. He would see someone more like-minded as Henry”s queen. Surely you know Prince Edward is being raised in the reformed faith. I have heard rumors that they would restore Anne of Cleves to the king”s side, and the people would be very pleased if he went in that direction, Varian. They always liked her, and could never understand why a king would put aside a royal princess in favor of a mere English maid. Aye, Cranmer and his cohorts seek Catherine”s death. Only if she is dead can they be certain she will not creep back into the king”s good graces. Even as a mistress, she would be dangerous to them, or so they believe.”

”You need have no fear that the lady Anne would remarry the king. She will not have him, Grandfather, or so my wife says. Besides, the lady”s mother was of the old church, and the princess Mary has drawn the lady Anne back to that way of worship. It would do the reformers absolutely no good to restore her, for she would be of no use whatsoever to them,” Varian told his grandfather.

”The Privy Council is having a secret meeting tomorrow,” the duke said. ”I will know more then. In the meantime be careful.”

Francis Dereham, Henry Manox, and several others in the dowager”s livery were arrested and confined to the Tower. The queen grew quite hysterical at the news. She was terrified at what they might say, and realized that she must say her piece first, before they were questioned. She begged that the archbishop attend her once more. Thomas Cranmer came to listen to her admission that, aye, she had indeed given Dereham gifts, and even received gifts from him. She had had a silk shirt made for him, but not satisfied, he had stolen a silver bracelet from her. He had in return had silk flowers made for her by a little woman in London, and given her some sarcenet which she had made into a quilted cap by the dowager”s embroiderer, who had decorated the cap with friar”s knots, a symbol of true love. When she had first worn the cap, Dereham, according to Mistress Hall, had said, ”What, wife, here be the friars” knots for Francis!” To the archbishop all of this was indicative of a precontract, although the queen continued to vehemently deny it.

” ”Twas naught but in fun,” she said. Then she went on to tell the archbishop of how Dereham”s behavior was beginning to embarrass her greatly. ”I feared his behavior would come to the ears of my step-grandmother,” she said, ”and then I should be sent back to Horsham in disgrace.”

”Why did you not speak to the lady Agnes about this man”s disturbing behavior, and his too-free manner toward you?” Thomas Cranmer asked.

”I suppose I should have,” the queen admitted slowly, ”but we were really having such fun. I did not want to spoil it for the others. If my step-grandmother had known, she would have locked us all up, and we would have never had any fun.”

”Did you not realize that your own behavior was wickedly opposed to all that a good Christian woman is taught, madame?” he queried her.

”I did not know how far it would go,” Catherine said, pouting. ”I was just an innocent maid up from the country.”

”The fellow knew you carnally,” the archbishop said. ”Tell me about it, madame.”

The queen began to cry again. ”I am so ashamed,” she sobbed.

Better she had been ashamed then than now, the archbishop thought sourly. This silly girl is causing us all no end of trouble. However, he turned his most beatific gaze upon her. ”Tell me, Catherine, my daughter. Unburden to me, and you will be free again.”

”Most times he had on his doublet and hose, but sometimes he was naked, I mean without his hose,” the queen said. ”He came to me when the old dowager had gone to bed. He brought me all manner of little treats. Sometimes wine, or strawberries, or sugar wafers. Once the most perfect apple I ever saw.”

”What if the duchess had come in while you were together?” the archbishop wondered aloud. ”What would you have done, my child?”

”She did come in once.” Catherine giggled inanely. ”I had to send Master Dereham into the gallery so he would not be caught.”

Her own words had convicted her, thought the archbishop. She cried rape, yet she sent her lover to hide when she was near to being caught.

”When the news came that I was to come to court,” the queen said, ”I was so excited. My uncle paid for a whole new wardrobe for me. I had three changes of clothes! I never had new clothing before.”

”What of Dereham?” Thomas Cranmer pressed her. ”Was he upset that you were to go away?”

”Aye, but I cared not. I told him that if he wanted to ask my uncle”s permission to wed me, he must go to Ireland to make his fortune. I had no intention of marrying him, but this was the easiest way to rid myself of the fellow. He saw my eagerness, and he berated me for it. I was forced to tell him that I did not care what he did anymore. I would go to court, and my uncle would find me a good match. Then Dereham said to me that he had heard that I was to wed my cousin, Tom Culpeper. He was very jealous.” She giggled again.

”When he said that, what replied you, madame?”

”I said if he knew such a thing, then he knew more than I knew,” Catherine told Thomas Cranmer. ”I suppose Tom would have been a good match for me, but that the king fell in love with me.”

The archbishop knew that the queen and her cousin had known each other since childhood. They had always been fond of one another. Culpeper was highly placed in the king”s affections. Was it possible? Could it be? Was the handsome Master Culpeper involved with the queen? The opportunity was there for him to take. Had he? When the archbishop left the queen, he ordered Tom Culpeper”s arrest. He had proof of nothing yet, but he certainly wanted to speak with the young man.

Culpeper was an ambitious fellow. He had come to court as a child. He was handsome and had a quick wit. The king was deeply fond of him. It was likely that in order to save his own skin he would tell the truth. But who knew what the truth was? the archbishop wondered. Had the queen committed adultery with Dereham? And would Culpeper know? Would his cousin have confided in him?

”Tom Culpeper has been arrested and taken to the Tower,” the Earl of March told his wife as he entered the Duke of Norfolk”s apartments. He had been playing tennis with Lord Melton when he had heard the news. It was already all over Hampton Court, for Culpeper was very popular among his peers.

”On what charge?” Nyssa asked, pale-faced.

”No charges have been filed against him yet. He has just been brought in for questioning,” Varian de Winter said.

”If I found out, then someone else may have found out,” Nyssa told her husband. ”God help Cat Howard.”

He took her in his arms and held her close. ”It may be nothing, sweeting. You know that Cranmer has been prying hard. So far he has found nothing that would convict Catherine of anything but bad judgment in men, and a naughty itch she must have scratched.”

Nyssa giggled. ”You make it sound so bawdy,” she said, ”and it is very serious, Varian. You know it is!”

He smiled into her dark hair. ”Fate has already set into motion whatever will happen, Nyssa. I cannot change it, and so if I do not see the humor in the situation, I will find myself in a depression from which it will be difficult to emerge. My grandfather”s plans are about to be foiled for good and always. I am sorry for him, but we have our own lives to live, my darling. How long has it been since we have had a quiet moment together? I think it is past time, don”t you?”

”I have been so fearful for Cat, and for us, that I have hardly thought about it,” she said honestly.

”I know,” he said, his voice rich with laughter. ”I am afraid, madame, that like my cousin, I too have a naughty itch that must be scratched.” He kissed the top of her head. ”Don”t you?”

Her soft body shook against his. ”You are very bad, sirrah,” she told him, but her fingers were unfastening his doublet, reaching past it to unlace his shirt. Her palms flattened themselves against his bare chest. She rubbed her cheek against his warm skin, inhaling his masculine fragrance. Spreading his shirt wide, she licked at his nipples teasingly. Then, sliding to her knees before him, she started to unfasten his top breeches buttons as he removed the upper garments that she had already undone. ”Your boots,” she said, realizing that they would impede her further progress.

He drew her up, and pulling her over to a chair by the fire, sat down. Her back to him, Nyssa took his leather-shod foot between her legs as he braced the other foot upon her bottom. ”Push!” she commanded him as she pulled his boot off. Then repeating the process, she removed the other boot. Turning about to face him, she began to slowly divest herself of her own garments; first her bodice, and then her skirts. Her little pointed tongue flicked across her lips as she slipped off her petticoats, one silk, one woolen, and one cotton. Reaching up, she removed the caul about her hair and shook the soft, dark tresses loose of their confinement.

He watched her appreciatively, sprawled in his chair, his chest bare. ”What if someone comes in?” he said.

Nyssa drew her chemise off, and cupping her breasts in her palms, she fondled them before his eyes. Naked but for her stockings, which were gartered with silk rosettes, and her elegant, bejeweled shoes, she walked across the chamber to turn the key in the lock of the dayroom. Silently he admired the long line of her back and her dimpled, rounded buttocks. When she turned about, the sight of her saucy, upturned nipples thrusting up from her marvelous young breasts set his blood boiling. Sliding to her knees again, she began to place small, hot kisses across his lean torso. She licked at his belly, burrowing into his navel. The tight, hard bulge in his breeches was growing more evident with each passing minute. She cupped a palm over the protuberance and squeezed him teasingly. ”I want you too,” she said softly to him. Then she lay upon her back before the fire, her legs up and spread.

Her wanton behavior almost took his breath away. Fascinated, he watched as she spread her nether lips with her hands and began to play with herself. Her eyes never left his. Somehow he managed to get to his feet. With equal restraint he removed the remaining garments he wore. Then he stood for a long moment above her, watching as she teased her own flesh into creamy readiness. He slid to the floor next to her, drawing her naked form against his. Her skin was burning with her desire, and when their lips met, she sighed deeply.

He kissed her slowly, feeling the texture of the lips beneath his, enjoying their softness, their passionate response. When he knew that her mouth ached as much as his did, he pressed soft, butterfly kisses across her face. Her eyes were closed in her ecstasy, the thick dark lashes fluttering against her pale cheeks. He nibbled upon an earlobe, licking about the shell of her ear, pushing his tongue suggestively into it to tickle her.

She arched against him, reaching for him to stroke his turgid manhood. ”Please!” she whispered urgently.

”Not yet,” he murmured back to her. Turning her upon her belly, he let his lips and tongue explore the line of her backbone. His teasing kisses swept across her buttocks and down her legs, then back up again. Pivoting her onto her back again, he nuzzled between her breasts, feeling her wildly beating heart beneath his mouth.

He was driving her wild with his deliciously erotic attentions. His pent-up desire for her should have made him anxious to possess her, but this time he seemed willing to wait, to tease her with sensual games. She liked it, yet she was hot to have him. ”Now!” she demanded, sinking her teeth into his shoulder and biting him fiercely.

”Impatient little bitch,” he growled at her, slapping her lightly. Then his mouth closed over a nipple and he began to suckle hard upon it even as he plunged two of his fingers into her hot sheath, thrusting them hard, making her whimper with pleasure.

After the first brief release, she realized it simply was not enough. She wanted him deep inside of her, filling her full of his throbbing passion. Angrily she struggled against him. ”Now, damn you! Now!” she hissed. Her fists beat a tattoo on his back. In answer to her pleas, he fiercely pushed her down again upon her back. Eagerly, Nyssa opened her legs to him, but to her shock he grasped her, yanking her limbs over his shoulders, burying his face between her thighs, his tongue with unerring direction finding her little jewel. Slowly he flicked back and forth over the angry pink nub of excited flesh. She couldn”t draw a breath for a long moment. Her whole being was suffused with a glowing heat that seemed to blossom from deep within her.

”Varian!” she moaned. ”Oh, God, you are killing me!”

Relentlessly he continued the torture, until she was near to expiring with her own lust, and then as suddenly as he had attacked her, he released her, sliding his hard body over her, his manhood entering her slowly, then pistoning her with deep, slow strokes. ”Now!” he breathed into her ear. ”Now, sweet wife!”

She seemed to explode inside, but as he moved on her, the excitement began to build again, until she was unable to tell the real from the unreal. She was soaring, yet melting away. She clutched at him, her legs wrapping themselves tightly about his torso. They seemed to go on forever, and then suddenly he was groaning even as his loving tribute burst with a rush into her hidden garden. They shuddered simultaneously, clinging to each other as the passion eased away and they were both left gasping for breath.

Overcome by her emotions, Nyssa began to weep wildly. ”Oh, God,” she sobbed, ”it was never like that before, Varian. Our passion for each other has always been wonderful, but never like this.” She wept against his shoulder, her hot tears slipping down his skin.

”I know,” he whispered to her, his voice shaking. What had just happened between them was as surprising to him as it had been to her. He had never loved her as much as he did in this moment. He held her close, his loving arms comforting her.

They lay together before the fire in silence for some minutes, and then Nyssa said softly, ”I think perhaps we should put our clothing back on, my lord. What if someone comes to get into the room and finds it locked? I will wager that such a thing has never before happened in your grandfather”s apartments at Hampton Court.”

He chuckled. ”Probably not,” he agreed. ”We will dress ourselves in enough garments to reach our bedchamber, madame, my love.”

”Oh?” She turned her tear-washed eyes to him. They reminded him of wet bluebells.

”I have not yet finished with you, wife,” he said with a small smile. ”Besides, what else is there to do now that the king is gone, the queen imprisoned, and the court shaking in its boots wondering what the hell is going on? I think we are very lucky, my darling. We have a cozy bedchamber, and we have each other. I think we should retire to it this very minute to while away the hours as pleasantly as possible. We cannot leave, and I should far rather play sensual games with you than stand about with the others, fearfully casting about for answers.”

”Few will associate with us now anyway,” Nyssa agreed. ”We carry the Howard taint. There is, I fear, nothing else to do, my darling husband and lord, but lock ourselves away.” Reaching out, she grasped at her chemise and pulled it on over her head, then turning back, she beckoned him seductively. ”Are you coming, my lord?”