Chapter Eleven
How can ye thus entreat a Lion of the race,
That with his paws a crowned king devoured in the place.
~Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey
September 21, 1536
I recalled once that some grand courtier said returning to court after a long absence was like visiting the only privy in the castle on a hot summer’s feast day—a body would be inundated with the shit of nearly everyone in attendance.
How right he had been. If I could recall who it had been, or could return to that time, I would have offered up a toast for words so rightly said, for I had been bombarded with person after person. Gossip, letters, and curious, hateful and pitying glances.
I was still in mourning for my brother, Richard, no matter how much our minds had crossed swords. Although I dressed in elegant courtly fashion, around my neck was a delicate black velvet and lace collar. Black diamonds and pearls were sewn in an intricate pattern, and neatly tucked unseen inside the seam was a small portrait of my brother when he had been a boy. The choker was tight, restricting. Reminding me that death was only a breath away.
Life at court went on. Politics, factions, religious reformation and lies wouldn’t cease to exist when a body left. Nay, you must run to catch up or suffer being left behind.
I pressed a hand to my rounding belly. Edward had promised me that the king holds no ill will toward me and that he had all but forgotten Richard was my brother. That the king had even pardoned my brother in death, when substantial proof was laid before him that his bastard son had actually been ill. That the witness was mistaken. I breathed a tense sigh, not confident I could believe the king’s words but needing to take them for what they were.
Time to leap back into the pit.
Fruitless and futile.
The king and queen had been married five months, and still their marriage remained empty of the promise of a prince. Jane had had a few late menses, but I’d warned her never to tell the king she was with child, or even that she thought she might be, until it was absolutely certain.
With the strain of her position, her menses had been thrown off course, and she was thinner now than she had been in the spring. I encouraged her daily to eat healthfully, partake in walks in the garden, and to use me as a confidante. It could only help her. I worried. One of her ladies had told me that she wakes every other night screaming, drenched in sweat. Night terrors they call them. But Jane refused to talk about her nightly visions.
I thought I knew what they were…
Jane imagines herself climbing a crudely made ladder, rotten vegetables, eggs, dung thrown at her back by a group of marauding peasants. Nobles stare on, their faces void of emotion, just waiting, waiting.
She reaches the top of the ladder, steps onto the scaffold, faces the executioner whose face is covered in a thick black hood. The man who is too ashamed, or too scared, to show the public who he is, yet every night clinks glasses with them in the taverns—everyone unsuspecting that he might be the one to take their life.
I knew this must have been the source of her night terrors, for I had had the same ones. Our futures were integrally linked. Whether we shared the executioner’s ax or the same midwife, there was nothing that could happen to one that would not ultimately affect the other.
Jane would become so overwrought throughout the day that sometimes she would rush to the chamber pot to toss up her accounts. Her practice of serving special foods and spices, and subtle invitations to the king, had improved his number of nightly visits. From what she’d said, it appeared he was actually completing the task. I was hoping she would soon truly be with child.
My belly had swelled a little more since the summer had turned into early fall, but the fashion of the court these days was a tight, high bodice with flowing skirts, and my growing belly was well concealed. No one had suspected my condition. I’d been drinking a concoction of ginger spiced tea and cinnamon each morning, and it had helped to ease my nausea.
Jane was glad that I’d returned. And I was happy the heat had abated somewhat. While gone from court, Edward and I had traveled over England to visit our properties and to get away from the heat. While it had been best for us to stay out of sight, absence appeared to have made the king’s heart grow fonder. For he’d given us each presents, myself a new mantle for the coming winter of thick green velvet and lined with black ermine fur, and Edward another manor.
Just after we’d arrived back at court, I learned Lady Mary was to join the court in residence. Her father would be filled with joy at her presence, as would Jane. There would be at least a month of merrymaking and feasts in Mary’s honor.
Alas, we had returned. The freedom over the last two months had been a heavenly journey, and I was shocked at the mixture of disappointment and excitement I felt at returning to Greenwich. The Marquis and Marchioness of Exeter had been fully granted credence at court, their suite of rooms returned to them, in our absence. Pleasure washed over me at having another ally, a friend to confide in.
At night, Edward laid with me in bed, his hands stroking over my stomach. He kissed my navel.
Prayed this baby was a girl… That we did not bear a son at least until the Jane and the king had a prince.
I joined him in fervent prayer, for how dare we, the closest of Jane’s family at court, conceive a child before the king and queen? It was unthinkable, but God had somehow chosen for this course. Despite the inconvenience of it, a small secret part of me was thrilled to bring a child into the world. To be someone’s mother.
I remembered growing up in Rampton, Nottinghamshire. The manor house had been a lavish home—my father seeking beauty and style as well as fortification. I had always been awed at the fact that Normans, who had come to conquer this land, had lived there, built it. And my father had improved on the three-tier step design on the outside, adding brickwork and corbeled outwork with our family coat of arms. I used to dance across the large stone gateway after picking flowers with my nursemaid in the fields—imagining my father, long dead, standing and waving us on.
A small smile crept over my lips as I imagined the small creamy hand of my own daughter held in mine, a bundle of white, pink, blue and yellow flowers filling the basket she held made of her skirts. I would be a good mother. Not like my own mother, who used me and abused me. Who loathed me to her very core.
A knock at the door pulled me from my reverie. I stood from the window seat where I had been staring out at the landscape.
“My lady,” Jenny said as she walked into my private presence chamber. “Sir Anthony Browne is here to see you.”
A heavy sigh escaped me. Thus far, I had been able to keep our running into each other at a minimum. We’d discussed a few matters pertaining to court, the king and queen, courtiers, politics, but always it had been within full view of others. Not once had we deigned to meet privately. Not after our heated argument in the woods. I’d thought never to share a room alone with the man again. Not with the disdain he felt for me. I could only pray that this meeting now consisted of a business nature only.
I nodded, and Jenny led him in. I could see immediately this visit was solely personal. After nearly two months of separation, he still had feelings for me? How many times would I have to reject him?
Anthony sauntered into the room, his face awash with conflicting emotions—worry, rage, hurt, joy—all at once they whisked over his features, like some tragic play. My insides plummeted. But I squared my shoulders. One of us had to be strong, and that role fell to me.
Jenny left quietly, closing the door behind her. If Edward were to come seeking me out…
“My lady.” Anthony swept a perfect bow and took the hand I proffered.
He kissed my knuckles gently, squeezing my fingers. I snatched my hand back, denying the rampant attraction that flared up with his touch. My skin sizzled where his lips had grazed me, but I could not let my baser instincts rule me. Strength. It was in my nature, in the rigid stature of my spine. I pressed my lips together and walked toward the hearth. If anything, the heat of the fire could explain the flush covering my skin.
“Sir Anthony,” I started, flinching at the cruel tone of my voice. “I thought I made it clear we were not to meet privately.”
He stepped forward, reached his arm out as if he would touch me, but then let it fall to his side. “Anne, please…”
I ignored his plea, but my will was thin, like an unraveling rope. If I did not get him to leave soon, all would be lost. “What is the nature of your visit?”
“So this is how we shall be? Cold, distant? You play a perfect female courtier.”
His insult stung, but I could not allow it to rattle me. I lifted my chin and offered him a cup of wine. He declined.
“I have come on two accounts, my lady. One of a more delicate and personal nature and the other, news I’ve heard from the north.”
“The news.”
At this, Anthony nearly snarled at me. He came close, his voice low. “Anne, we may have been close to being lovers for only a few brief moments, but I’ve memorized every line of your body. It has changed.”
I gasped. He’d noticed? How many others had as well?
His eyes roved over my belly, which was well-concealed beneath flowing skirts. “Whose baby is it?”
“I beg your pardon?”
“You know to what I refer. Answer me, damn it!”
I took a step back at his volatile, jealous nature. “The baby belongs to my husband,” I hissed with anger, stepping closer. “It certainly would not come from a few ardent kisses with you, sir. And I wouldn’t dare take another man to my bed besides Edward.”
He laughed cruelly. “I am not in the least worried whether or not the child is mine, Anne. I simply wonder how many men you’ve allowed entry into your…bed.”
My hands fisted at my sides, and more than anything I wanted to throw a vase or scratch at his eyes for what he’d intimated. Was this the rage of a man filled with jealousy? Or that of a man pushed aside, his bruised ego lashing out?
I’d opened myself up to Anthony, allowed him such liberties and such a place in my mind, one that only one other man had ever been allowed to view, and this was how he turned on me? “How dare you! I am no one’s whore! Get out!” I pointed to the door, my breathing labored.
“Anne, please, I did not mean…” He came forward, hands out. “The thought of you with another man—”
“I care not for your words or your apology. You have insulted me beyond measure, sir!”
“My love, Anne, please…” I let him take my hands in his, let him caress the palms with his thumbs, but only for a moment before I pulled away. He did not seek to pull me back. Resignation filled his features. “I am a jealous man, Anne. I’ve wanted you for so long. Adored you. Loved you. I cannot explain my words otherwise, and I most humbly beseech your forgiveness.”
“You will not have it today.” I sniffed, still seething, still crying on the inside. “Relay to me what news you’ve brought and then be gone with you.”
He nodded, swallowing hard, the masculine knob in his throat bobbing. “I’ve heard rumor of a band of rebels gathering up north. They are angry, distraught at the dissolution of monasteries. Has Edward mentioned it?”
I turned toward the hearth. If my husband had heard anything new, he had not mentioned it to me. We’d known of the anger up north for a while. Was it really all that different now? Had Edward felt that with my condition I could no longer help him in state affairs? He was going soft on me. How dare he think my condition could not handle such disturbing news! I would have to seek out Lady Exeter soon. Gertrude was always well informed and had a gentle-enough hand to soothe my ire.
“What else?” I asked.
“The council will meet shortly. We have several informants that are due back with news imminently.”
I nodded, speaking with little inflection in my voice. “Whatever the news is, His Majesty will surely want to retaliate. But it is imperative that you not let him go north.”
Anthony agreed. “His leg is festering much lately. I do not think he will attempt it.”
“No matter, he will want to show his authority, his ability to still wield control. But he cannot put himself in the line of danger. Jane has not yet conceived.”
“The work of the rebels may be in our favor,” Anthony said in a low voice.
“How so?”
“They are sensitive to the Lady Mary. They wish for her to be put back in the succession. It is worse than feared before. We were able to quell their anger during the summer months, but now there is a new leader, and he is garnering much support among the people.”
“Hmm…” This could sorely go in the opposite direction. Foolish peasants and reckless nobleman. Did not they realize that by going against the king they would only anger him? He would take it out on Mary. That by wanting her to be in line for the throne, the king might just strip her completely and send her into exile? Maybe even to the scaffold?
“Thank you for bringing me this information. Go now.”
Anthony’s brows furrowed as he glared at me. “I am not a servant for you to dismiss. As much as you might wish to forget our affair d’amour it happened. We happened.”
I bit my lip, almost drawing blood. “Do not say such words. The walls have ears. And despite what you think, I hardly believe a few seconds of stupidity count as an affair of the heart.”
“One night.”
I turned, astonished. “Pardon?”
“Give me one night, Anne. One night to indulge in the passion we both have felt, and I will wash the memory of our love from my mind.”
Our love? Had he really fallen so hard? But I knew he had. He’d told me, and even though I’d never confessed my feelings, he knew they ran deep. Since then, I’d put it all behind me, forgotten it except for on dark, lonely nights. With suspicions at court rising, there was no place for treachery, and Edward’s spies had doubled over the past few months. Any indiscretion would have been brought to his attention immediately. As much as a part of me wanted to go back in time and relive those carefree moments in Anthony’s arms, it was not possible. Indeed, it would have meant certain death.
The determined set of Anthony’s jaw made me nervous.
“And if I do not?” I asked haughtily.
“You do not want to make me think about that.” He ran a hand through his hair.
His threat was not subtle—and I couldn’t pinpoint if it was made out for me, or that he himself would go mad with lust-rage. All I could imagine was Edward’s fingers wrapping around my throat and that long trek up the crude wooden ladder to a non-descript scaffold. I coughed, my fingers tugging lightly at my mourning choker.
“Don’t threaten me. This is not about love, but revenge. Retaliation for my loyalty to Edward. What grievance has he caused you that you would feel compelled to use me so cruelly?”
“Right you are, I am beside myself with envy, Anne. Every night I fall into bed, I imagine you doing the same with Edward. I refused to let my last memory of you naked and moaning be with Edward on top of you, but myself.”
My mouth fell open, shocked at his words, and for a moment completely speechless. “You disgust me,” I managed to choke out.
“It was not always that way.”
“Find someone else to plunder. My village is no longer available.”
“So witty you are, my lady. But, unfortunately, I happen to know that a certain birthmark graces you… Right. Here.” His finger tapped my knee.
“You could have bribed a maid to tell you so.”
“Even still, you will not risk my knowledge of its placement.”
“You would blackmail me into your bed?”
“If I have to. If I have to get you alone so you can let go of all this.” He flung his hands out to the side. “You forget that each time we’ve kissed, touched, your passion ignites, and it is beautiful. I want you to see what I see, Anne.”
“Go away.” I thrust my chin up.
“No, Anne.” He stepped forward, cupped my face, his lips brushing mine. “Do you not remember?”
Each of our indiscretions tunneled back, flooding my body with the sensations I’d experienced tenfold. I tingled all over, my body desperately wanting to feel what he offered. To escape the madness of courtly intrigue for one night and give into abandon. “One night,” I lied. For as much as I wanted to feel Anthony’s body overtop of mine, I could never allow it to happen. To do so would be to risk too much. I gazed at the man I’d once loved, and realized I would soon make an enemy of him.
“I will send for you.” He left quickly after that.
My throat tightened. I realized then that he’d only come for that—to make our affaire d’amour real. The news of the rebels and the meeting of the council were something I would hear about very soon from even the lowliest court mouth.
To my desk I went, hastily penning a note to my confidante.
My Dearest Lady,
I fear our devoted Sir A has come undone. To my attention it has come, threats and rumors are passing his lips. I humbly beseech you, make haste that your lord husband speak to him. For I fear for all our reputations should he truly embark on his intentions, and then to what purpose? So much work we have done, only to have it tossed in the Thames like rubbish.
Your most humble and devoted friend,
Lady Anne, Viscountess Beauchamp
I quickly burned the letter as soon as I’d written it. For what more had he threatened than to take me as his lover?
As the last corner caught flame, Edward returned, and I rushed toward him, hoping he’d not ask what I’d just burned.
October 1, 1536
It was midnight. And it had begun.
The religious rebellion from the north that we’d feared. They were attempting to bring back Catholicism to the realm. This could only end badly as King Henry had no wish to revert back to the breast of Rome.
The candle on my desk burned low as I read over documents from our many informants. One rushed so quickly to my lord Edward, that the sweat of the messenger’s hand still dampened the parchment.
The Pilgrimage of Grace, they called it.
Traitors, all of them.
Tonight, after Evensong at St. James’s Church in Louth, a Mr. Robert Aske, peasants, nobleman, clergy, and numerous others by the thousands, began their march toward London. My hands shook as I read the letter. The participants swore they were only defending the suppression of the church and Catholic faith. They upheld their allegiance to the king, His Most Gracious and Noble Majesty. They sought to end the dissolution of monasteries, end the taxes laid on them, purge heretics from the king’s council—Cromwell was named.
My breathing was ragged, my heart nearly bursting. This was bad, very bad. I would have bet my life they would never have seen it through. And yet, here was the proof. They had indeed. Who would go against King Henry? Who would sign their own death warrant? For they could not win against the king.
And yet… my fingers trailed to the rosary sewed into my sleeve. In my heart of hearts I’d hoped they would. And to name Cromwell… How fortunate we were.
But, who was this Mr. Aske? What of his family?
I suppose soon enough I may get the chance to find out, for he’d be in the Tower if he was not dead.
The king was angry, enraged. Jane had rushed into our chambers earlier, fearing for His Majesty’s anger, that he would leave her to go north and fight the rebels himself. She’d begged Edward to go and talk sense with him. Make him stay.
Edward would do all he could to ensure the king stayed put, even if it meant he had to go up north to quell this rebellion himself, with promises of heads delivered on pikes to His Majesty’s presence chamber.
Already, Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk, had been charged with taking the king’s message to the rebels, and exacting punishment on them all. He’d suited up in his armor and headed out before dawn with an army in tow. Edward would soon join him to make certain this heinous rebellion came to an end quickly. The king grew impatient even when it had barely begun. He could not tolerate when someone went against his wishes. Damn the rebels for betraying their king. His Majesty was in a murderous rage, and I feared nothing would calm him.
The little bump in my belly fluttered. The baby had begun to kick lightly, delicately every so often, reminding me that I would soon be a mother. But my fear for our position, for the king’s grace, for Jane, who was not yet with child, sucked the joy from me.
I pressed a hand to my belly, felt a little press of foot or hand as the babe within me tumbled with innocent enthusiasm. My heart skipped with joy, and I sucked in a breath. For a moment I was happy, peaceful. But then my eyes were drawn again to the parchment in my hands.
I must send a letter north. We had allies there. Edward would need a place to stay, to make camp, provisions. We needed someone to infiltrate the rebels to give Edward information about their plans, their hideouts, numbers, their informants, anything that would help us to succeed.
“Jenny! Fetch the messenger.”
After dressing for morning Mass, I exited my chambers and nearly jumped through my skin. My mother awaited me in the presence chamber.
“Anne, I thought you’d sleep nearly all day. How in all the realm will you make it to Mass on time to serve your queen?”
“If you were not here, I could leave at present to attend her.”
“Humph.” She pursed her lips.
My stomach clenched, and before she could say another word, I held up my hands. “I understand your husband sends you to spy on me, or to beg favors of me, whatever the case may be, but at present, I am running late and must be on my way. Perhaps seek me out after Mass is held?”
My mother, surprising me, nodded. I took a breath of relief, but it was too soon.
She straightened her spine and jutted her jaw forward. “I was inclined to accept your proposal, but have changed my mind. I shall walk with you to the queen’s chambers.”
My teeth ground together, and I suppressed a growl in her direction. “Very well.”
“Yes, indeed. Let us away.”
We made our way to the door, my mother’s hand clasped about my arm. “While you may think I do only my husband’s bidding, I do possess my own mind.”
“I had thought most do, Mother.”
“Your fath—stepfather shall be going to Surrey soon.”
“Surrey?” My stomach clenched. Surrey the man or Surrey the holding?
“The king has given him his sheriffdom, and so he must travel there to conduct his duties.”
“I see. Shall you and Lizzie accompany him?”
“Unless the queen sees fit to have me about her, then yes I must go. But Lizzie shall remain here, with you as her guardian.”
“There you are, my lady.” Sir Richard Page rounded the corner near Queen Jane’s apartments. He flicked his gaze toward me, his eyes roving over my form. “And with your eldest daughter, I see.” He bowed before me as was proper in front of so many courtiers.
“Good morning, sir.”
“Has your lady mother told you the news then?” His eyes roved our surroundings as if looking for something. “We shall embark for Surrey within the week. No doubt we will have many more dealings with his lordship, the Earl of Surrey, as well.”
I bristled at the mention of Surrey, but straightened my shoulders, playing into their game. I’d no longer allow them to hold me in their clutches. “Indeed she has, and I wish you much luck with your new appointment. A shame you’ve just received a room here at court, and now shall have to away.” Though I was not sad to see them leave at all, quite the opposite.
“I am assured our room will be awaiting us for the Christmas season.” Page’s eyes lighted with malevolent delight. “Here is the very man now. My lord!” He waved his arms in the air.
I gritted my teeth as Lord Surrey came into view, the hair on the back of my neck rising as it did whenever he was near. Muscles clenched as if awaiting his assault. How dare Page invite the man to my rooms? The bastard bowed to my mother, Page and myself. My mother tugged my sleeve as she curtsied, but I’d never give Surrey the satisfaction of seeing me bow, and I yanked my arm from her grasp.
“Lady Beauchamp, a sight you are this morning. Beautiful as a sunrise,” he said with a smirk.
It took every ounce of willpower I possessed not to vomit down the front of his doublet. “How very kind of you to say so.”
Why was Page doing this? Did he seek to merely torment me? What motive could he have had for such cruelty?
I turned to my stepfather. I hated to have another female go through the hell Surrey had stacked on me, and my own sister at that, but I could not allow Page and my slithering mother to control me any longer. Lord, I prayed they believed me and held me to be true, for I would have hated for them to see my bluff and force my hand with Lizzie’s fate.
“My mother says you shall have to take Lizzie with you. But it has only just occurred to me, that perhaps instead of having her at your manor, she could foster at Lord Surrey’s castle with his wife. I am confident you would have a place for her there, would you not, my lord?”
My mother’s mouth gaped wide, and Sir Page’s face turned nearly purple. I could practically see them both recalling the fate they’d resigned me to, and they’d not want to do the same with Lizzie—especially since Surrey was already married and nothing would come of it but Lizzie’s ruination.
They’d not allow Lizzie to go, but let them come up with the reasons why. I was through with them. Let them sputter and spew their venom elsewhere. If they had thought to hold me in their clutches, now let them see I could play their games, too.
“I must away. Queen Jane is in need of me at the moment.” I left them all, head held high. Pray let my move work.
October 31, 1536
There was a reason they said the devil and his minions came out on All Hallows’ Eve, and until tonight, I had thought it all a part of some fantasy made up by the church to quell our evil desires.
Shouts rang out across Whitehall. Angry bellows. I ran toward Jane’s apartments to see what the commotion was, only to be pushed back by Edward as I saw King Henry roaring his ire at everyone who dared to cross his path. A chair flew past my vision, the loud crash shaking the wall. A painting was next. And then any object within reach. “Anne, go back to our chambers,” Edward ordered.
Servants rushed by, fear filling their faces as they came hither or yon from the king’s rooms.
“But Jane,” I rushed.
“She is fine. Go. I’ll follow you soon.”
I hurried back to our rooms, but could not remain calm. The king’s bellows shook the entire castle. The clock in our room ticked, but the sound of it was drowned out by the chaos down the hall. My fingers were numb from wringing them, and my feet ached from pacing and turning about the room. There was not a vase, painting or deity out of place as I’d put them all to rights in my effort to keep myself from rushing from our hallowed rooms to make certain in his fit of rage the king had not arrested Edward tried, charged and executed him on some hollow accusation.
“Where is Edward?” I mumbled, wanting to shout it out to the heavens.
A groom stepped from the shadows. “My lady?”
“Nothing.” I waved him back to whatever wall he’d hidden himself against and walked to the sideboard to pour a glass of strong wine. I needed the liquid to calm my nerves.
A fervent knock, rapid and continuous, sounded on our door. The groom rushed to answer it, only for it to be thrust open in impatience by Queen Jane herself. She rushed into the room, and my full goblet of wine stayed put on the sideboard as she grabbed my arm and propelled me toward my bedchamber. I was too shocked to respond with anything other than moving where she directed me.
She slammed the door shut behind us and turned in a swish of skirts to face me, eyes red-rimmed, swollen and bloodshot from too many tears shed.
“Jane, what is it?” I came forward and gripped her hands in mine.
“Henry!” she whispered feverishly. “He’s gone mad!”
I ushered Jane to a chair by my hearth and settled her in it. I knelt in front of her to listen, fears of my own rushing to the surface. My face, neck and chest felt hot. So hot. I needed air. I stood and opened the window slightly, then came back to kneel before her.
“You must have heard him. Throwing things, breaking things, hitting a groom! He’s mad with rage!” Jane’s voice was high-pitched. Her fingers shook as they gripped mine.
“What has him so agitated?” I asked, as calm as I could, even though inside I was a tornado of emotions. Oh, dear God, do not let it be Edward!
“The rebels in the north, even his own men. He does not think his men wish to support him since they’ve yet to settle the matter.” She wiped tears from her eyes as they began to run anew. “He shouted at me for not being with child.”
My lips clamped shut, pursed. I wanted to say so much, but anything I uttered would not make Jane feel relief.
“His leg pains him much. He wobbles around his rooms, clutching it. The ulcer has festered something fierce. Puss is oozing through his hose and breeches. He is mad with fever!”
“Is there no one who can calm him?”
“Not a one! Edward tried, and Henry… Oh, Edward!”
My stomach plummeted. My worst fears were about to become a reality. “What? What happened?”
“I’ve never seen Henry so mad. His eyes bulged from their sockets, his face red and blustery. Spittle flew from his lips.” Jane shook her head, almost as if trying to forget the image.
“What of Edward?” I gripped her hands tighter, coming up on my knees so my eyes were level with hers.
“He bade him hold his tongue or he’d be thrown in the oubliette and forgotten about for a century.”
I blinked, unable to comprehend exactly what she was saying. The oubliette. A fate I would not have wanted pushed on my husband even when I’d watched him saunter away with some trollop. Men were tossed into the dank, dark, rat-infested holes and left to die. No way in except to be thrown and no way out except for a rope to be tossed into the pit for you to climb.
“No…” I breathed, wondering if my lips moved. My body was going numb, a ringing in my ears. All I could do was imagine my poor Edward curled up in a ball as the rats feasted on his fingertips.
“Edward fell to the floor, put his hands up in prayer.” Jane mimicked the movement. “He prayed that the good and mighty king might forgive him. It was unreal, yet I saw it before my own eyes.”
“And?” I bit out, becoming impatient. Where was my husband?
“Henry is sending him north to help Norfolk and Suffolk.”
Edward did not return to our chambers that night. Instead, a messenger arrived shortly after Queen Jane left with word from him. As Jane had said, he was sent north in a hurry to please His Majesty and hadn’t time to return for his things. I was to send a groom with a few items, which the messenger ticked off.
I called Edward’s valet into the room, and he worked with the messenger to pack a satchel for him. Then the valet left with the messenger to locate a squire who might catch Edward upon the road.
I was relieved that he was still alive. But who knew how long that would be? He was in the midst of a rebellion, forty thousand strong. The king’s men did not nearly rival that number, even if they were better trained and equipped. And should things go badly, Edward would have to deal with the king himself.
I shuddered. I did not want to have to sew Edward’s picture into my choker. Or mayhap the choker would be handed to my maid as my own throat was slit.
November 8, 1536
Shawms and flutes played a haunting melody, following me down the corridor from the great hall. I walked alone, in tune with the music, the click of my heels sounding off the floorboards. I was barely able to see my feet over the ever-expanding waist of my gown. We’d feasted tonight on the return of Edward and Suffolk from the north. They’d been able to halt the march of treasonous English for the moment. Norfolk remained behind to ensure the march went no further.
But I was no longer able to keep up with merrymaking as I once was. I was tired. Mentally and physically. The baby was a heavy burden, both on my mind and my body, and since it was yet a secret, I must endure my suffering privately. Edward understood, and though he wished to come back to our apartments with me, I bade him stay and finish out the night with the revelers who were happy to welcome him home in one piece.
I prayed on this journey back to my room, I did not run afoul with anyone. I had yet to have words with Edward’s brother again, but he lurked on the outskirts, waiting for his chance to strike. He looked like a rabid animal, baring his teeth at me. Months had passed since we’d last argued, but in any case, I could sense his ire building to a crescendo. It was only a matter of time before he exploded.
He was angry with me for countering his threats with my own. The jealous whelp watched as Edward and I rose, and he was left all the same. Perhaps I could whisper to Jane of Tom leaving court to see the world, to experience another court would only enhance his abilities and political career. She would agree.
The hair on the back of my neck prickled, and I picked up my pace as quickly as I could. When I turned to look behind me, Anthony’s lithe figure dipped back into the great hall. So he watched me. A shiver raced along my spine, and unconsciously I hugged my round belly.
Had he come after me to take what he’d demanded? Relief flooded over me that he’d changed his mind and gone back to the festivities. And yet a sense of emptiness and loss remained.
November 20, 1536
I crinkled up the guilt-filled letter my mother so graciously had sent to me. Her precious daughter, Lizzie, who, she felt inclined to remind me, was also my half-sister, was miserable at their manor home and wished to come to court again. I was glad that Page had taken my hidden warning in keeping her at home, instead of allowing her to go to Lord Surrey’s house. I had hoped they’d not be so dense where Surrey was concerned, though they had been with me.
My mother lamented that Lizzie was lonely with little people of her station to associate with. Subtle mentions of their correspondence with Surrey and how well their relationship was fostering laced her letter. A dinner here, a judgment at Surrey’s court there, a gift of a horse and the collection of taxes. Page was truly enjoying his seat as sheriff, reigning over his own mini-kingdom.
Ever present were her hints at ruination for me if I did not do as she asked.
But I could no longer let her threats rule me as much as she wanted them to. I had a baby growing inside me. Edward and I were creating our own family, our future. Rumors had spread like wildfire before… my own brother, murdered… and yet the accusations of his treasonous heart, which we’d feared would forever taint my reputation, faded eventually.
I would not be able to ignore her for long. Soon they would return to court, and I would have to face them directly.