“My love, I was waiting and waiting...” she began, but he smothered her words with a crushing kiss. Then, with a look on his face of more awe than concern or worry, he put his hands on her shoulders and stood her armlength away.
“Lady Stafford, I believe the whole world will know you are pregnant now as well as your sister. We can delay their being told no longer. That is obvious. Who has guessed or asked? I did not imagine three weeks could make such a difference, but indeed, sweetheart, the child has blossomed and that means a certain end to our secret. I thank God they are in a fairly hopeful mood because of the queen’s new pregnancy. Does your father know of our child? Cromwell?”
“I have not seen my dear father, Staff. He has been about and Madge has seen him, but he stays well out of my way.”
“Then Madge must know. You have seen much of her then? I am not sure that is wise, for the sharp edge of the queen’s wrath may yet fall on the girl.”
“Really, my love,” Mary said, looking up into his concerned face, “the girl is my cousin, though I have not seen her for years before father hauled her into this mess. But she is new here and alone, and I remember how terrible that can be in a vast court.”
Staff sank down on the bed, and pulled his boots off and sighed, wiggling his toes. “I applaude your sweet motives, lass, but the wench is hardly alone. In her first week at court this spring, the king bedded her, the queen screamed at her, and Norris continues to make a fool of himself over her whenever His Grace is not around. Just be careful you do not stand too close to her if the queen’s axe should fall. I would have to bet that Her Grace will have little Madge Shelton, cousin or not, out of here in a week. So anyway, Madge has no doubt guessed about your babe. And Cromwell?”
“I have seen him twice, but I wore a pelisse each time. He has been very busy with the king gone, but he approached me in the gardens by the river once and I dared not run away as I wished. We walked for a little while.”
“I assume he behaved himself, except for his beady eyes, that is, which try to caress you every time you are in view.”
“Do not be angry, Staff.” She sat beside him on the bed. He draped his arms over her shoulders and pulled her gently to his side.
“I am not angry, love. I only hate myself every time I think of you left behind here with the vipers. Lately, my Mary has taken quite good care of herself, but I hate not having you and the babe out of here and safe.”
“But now we must tell them, so then we shall see.”
“Yes, sweetheart. Then we shall see. I am exhausted, Mary, and had best be back by supper. Will you lie beside me here?”
They cuddled in the middle of the bed, Mary on her back and Staff on his side facing her with his arm under her head. She put his open hand on her belly. “See, my love, he moves about more than ever now.”
“Or she,” he said sleepily. “I still would not mind a miniature of your Catherine. Is she well at Hever? I know how much this summer will mean to your mother having her there again.”
“She is quite well. But all men want a son, Staff.”
“Yes, and I also. But there will be time for at least another child before you begin hobbling around on a cane,” he teased. He opened one eye then the other and stared at her fine profile. “Is there something else besides having to face them that is troubling you, Mary? Have you not come to terms with your father’s last wretched scheme to use you as bait?”
“No, Staff. It is not that. But there is something that has been haunting me. I have dreamed of it, Staff.”
“Tell me.” His eyes were wide awake on his tired face.
“While the court was away on progress—the first week you were gone—word came here that after Sir Thomas More was beheaded on Tower Hill, the king’s men put his head on a pike on London Bridge and gave his family only the trunk of his body for burial.”
“Look Mary. It is only another indication of how terrible the times are and how far the king has sunk into the mire of treachery. Sir Thomas More may have been His Grace’s loyal advisor and friend these years, but the king turned against him completely when More dared not to sign the Act of Supremacy declaring the king head of the new church. I do not doubt that the king or Cromwell told his henchmen to make a clear example of More. Fear not for his body being separate from his head. The Lord God has need of men with the moral strength of Thomas More on resurrection day whether their heads be buried with their bodies or not. You must put the whole awful thing out of your mind.”
“I cannot. How can I? You do not, and I know you blame yourself that we all signed the document like sheep. But that is not all.”
“What more?” He sat up cross-legged on the bed facing her, leaning over her, intent.
“After his head had been there on the pole a week, for they say it was guarded that long and by then the crows had been at the eyes and...”
“Mary, do not torture yourself with this.”
“I must tell you, Staff. After a week, it hardly looked like a man’s head. But then, when the guards dispersed, his eldest daughter Meg Roper...”