Secrets of the Tudor Court Boxed Set (115 page)

“Will the council execute the Duke of Somerset?” I asked Jane. We sat in her solar, pretending to sew. Neither of us had taken more than a few stitches.

Jane shuddered. “I hope not. Our families have been friends for a long time. You know we talked of having Jack marry Anne Seymour, Somerset’s oldest girl.”

“The lord protector did not hesitate to have his own brother beheaded,” I reminded her. “I doubt he’ll show any mercy to either of our husbands if he is victorious.”

“Executing Tom Seymour is yet another example of his poor judgment. And we will prevail. Somerset cannot. He has too many enemies ranged against him.”

I prayed she was right, and as I sat there, a sunbeam playing over my neglected embroidery, I wondered if there might be something we could do to bring an end to the standoff at Windsor. Somerset, Warwick, even Will were hotheaded individuals accustomed to settling matters with violence. Men were trained for warfare, even if they never expected to see a real battle.

“Is Lady Somerset with her husband at Windsor?” I asked.

“She is still at Beddington,” Jane said, naming one of the many properties Somerset had claimed for himself since he’d come to power. “When this began, the lord protector had only just returned to Hampton Court after spending a few days hunting with his wife in Hampshire. She went to Beddington, which is nearby, to oversee the progress on renovations to the house.” The Duke of Somerset had begun many such projects, and had ordered the destruction of no fewer than three churches to get building stone for Somerset House, the great mansion he was erecting on the Strand.

“Do you think she might be more apt to listen to reason than he is?”

Jane laughed. “You know Anne Somerset as well as I do. More likely she is the reason the lord protector pursued such an unwise course.
Anne’s sudden rise to prominence at court went straight to her head. Her husband had not been regent for a month before she began to assume the privileges of royalty. Only remember how badly she treated the queen dowager.”

“But if she could be made to understand that now, for the good of the realm, the duke must step down—”

“She would sooner see him dead.”

I thought of the way the Duke and Duchess of Somerset were in private, as I had once seen them when they did not know I was there. Had it all been manipulation, or did she truly love her husband, as I loved Will, as Jane loved John Dudley, Earl of Warwick? I sighed. Even if she did, the lord protector’s wife was not a likely candidate to act as the voice of reason. And yet, if there was a chance she could help avoid bloodshed, how could we not ask for her cooperation?

A few hours later, accompanied by our ladies and a few armed guards, Jane and I left Holborn and rode posthaste to Beddington.

“This is outrageous!” the Duchess of Somerset shouted when we explained the situation. “My husband is the most powerful man in the realm. Lesser men do not make demands upon him. He gives orders and they obey.”

Both Jane and I were physically bigger than the duchess, but she had not lost the knack of looking down her nose while looking up. I started to back away, then remembered that she was no longer my mistress. I held my ground, refusing to be cowed.

“Your husband has kidnapped the king,” I said.

“Edward went willingly with his uncle.”

“So, you know already that they went to Windsor.” Did her arrogance know no bounds? “I am surprised you have not already joined them there. I am sure your venom could be a useful weapon to repel troops sent against the duke.”

If she was so determined to retain her place and his power, then she would have to be removed along with her husband. All the wretched things the Duchess of Somerset had said and done to me and to Will
came back in a rush. If she had not been so much smaller and weaker, and if she had not suddenly looked stricken, I might have been tempted to do violence to her person.

“Windsor?” Lady Somerset asked. “Not the Tower?”

“A slight change of plans.” Jane stepped deftly between us, bringing calm with her. “King Edward only went with your husband the duke because he was intimidated by Somerset’s position as lord protector. You know this to be true, Anne. And you know that Somerset’s day is over. But with your help, matters can still be settled peaceably.”

“What if I do not want peace? What if I’d prefer to see your husbands tried for treason? If they overthrow the duly appointed lord protector, that is no less a crime than what Tom Seymour plotted.”

“It is the lord protector who imitates his brother,” Jane said, “not the earl or the marquess. And like his brother, he will fail. Let us pray Somerset does not follow Tom to the block. I know your husband is a good man at heart, Anne. Out of fear of harming the king, if for no other reason, he will eventually give in. Then he will be arrested, and with him your two eldest sons, who are with him at Windsor. Will you not try to save your boys, at least?”

Lady Somerset blanched at the threat to her children but would not yield.

“If you could but persuade your husband to surrender the sooner—”

The door to the chamber flew open and banged against the wall, cutting short Jane’s plea for sanity. Will stood in the opening, a dozen armed men at his back. His eyes widened when he saw me, but he spoke first to the duchess. “I regret to inform you, Lady Somerset, that your husband is in custody at Windsor Castle. He has been deprived of his office as lord protector and removed from his lodgings next to the king’s bedchamber.”

A look of cold hatred removed every vestige of beauty from the duchess’s face. With a howl of rage and frustration she hurled herself at Will. She clawed at his face, leaving a trio of long, deep scratches in one cheek. She beat on his chest, shouting invective. With surprising gentleness,
he caught her wrists to stop her attack and eased her back toward her waiting gentlewomen. When they helped her to a chair, she collapsed, sobbing.

I went to Will’s side. Jane tried to comfort Anne Somerset.

“When I left Windsor,” Will continued, as if there had been no interruption, “Somerset was under guard in the Beauchamp Tower. He will shortly be removed to the Tower of London. I have orders to escort you there to join him, Lady Somerset.”

Her spine stiffened at his words, which had somehow penetrated her wails of despair. She abruptly fell silent and drew herself up as much as a person of her small stature could, especially when seated. She sent a cold and haughty, if somewhat damp, glare in Will’s direction. “Am I your prisoner, then?”

“You are, my lady.”

“I require time to pack a few necessities, and so do the women who will accompany me.”

“You are to bring no one with you.” Will’s voice equaled hers for coldness. Standing only inches away from him, I shivered, uncomfortably reminded of the day when Jack Dudley had forcibly taken me to Chelsea. “You will be assigned servants when you enter the Tower.”

“My women will accompany me as far as London. Go and pack,” she ordered one of her ladies. “Now, what of my sons?” It was as if her bout of hysterics had never occurred.

Will unbent a little. “You need not be concerned for them. King Edward will keep them with him. He is very fond of Lord Hertford and his younger brother.” As Jack had become Lord Lisle when John Dudley was elevated in the peerage to Earl of Warwick, so the Duke of Somerset’s eldest son had been granted his old title.

I breathed a sigh of relief, but Lady Somerset only gave a curt nod of acknowledgment. She folded her arms across her chest and waited in fulminating silence for her women to return with her baggage.

Jane and I returned to London in company with Will and his prisoner, leaving the duchess’s ladies behind. My heart came near to bursting
with pride when I learned what a crucial role my dear husband had played in Somerset’s downfall. By repudiating the lord protector in public, Will had convinced his sister’s husband, Lord Herbert, who had just returned from the West Country with an army at his back, to support the new Privy Council instead of the Duke of Somerset.

“Who will be the new lord protector?” I asked as we rode toward the city. It was a perfect, cloudless mid-October day, the kind of day when it felt good to be alive and free. I could almost find it in my heart to feel pity for Anne Somerset. She rode ahead of us inside a well-guarded litter.

“The Privy Council has revoked that office. No one will assume the title.”

“Surely you do not mean to let Edward rule for himself?” His Grace was still much too young for such responsibility.

“Warwick is now lord president of the Council. He will help the king make decisions.”

“Why Warwick rather than you? You are a marquess. He is only an earl.” I did not pretend to understand political machinations, but it seemed to me that greater rank should count for something. Then again, the first thing Somerset had done when King Henry died was make himself a duke. Perhaps Jane’s husband would do the same.

“I do not want the responsibility, Bess.” Will sent a rueful smile in my direction. “And you’d not care to have me burdened with it. It would leave me with little time for you.”

A small, shallow part of me wished that Will would be just a trifle more ambitious. What if Warwick turned out to be another Somerset? But if I was honest with myself, I had to admit that Will was better suited to diplomacy than to the day-to-day administration of the realm. He certainly knew how to flatter and charm. I smiled back at him.

“I will have a great deal to keep me busy as it is,” Will continued. “From now on, to keep the king’s person secure, he will always be attended by two noblemen and two gentlemen. These will be men selected by the Privy Council to offer guidance as well as protection. I am one of the six noblemen who will guard the king’s person in shifts.”

“Are you to carry a halberd?” I asked, picturing Will in the crimson livery of the yeomen of the guard.

He laughed. “No need to go that far!” He slanted a teasing look my way. “Have you realized yet that you will also have a new role at court?”

I frowned in puzzlement. “Of what nature?”

But before he could answer, understanding burst upon me and I laughed aloud in delight. With Lady Somerset gone, and if the king’s sisters and female cousins and the Lady Anna of Cleves continued to absent themselves from court—as they likely would, since they all seemed to prefer life in the country—I would be the highest-ranking noblewoman at King Edward’s court. I would act as his hostess when foreign dignitaries visited. I would be the next thing to royalty myself.

34

I
t had long troubled me that I remained estranged from my family. The commission’s decision that Will and I were legally married had not brought about the reconciliation I’d hoped for. Then again, both my father and my brother William spent much of their time in Calais, where Father was lord deputy. Mother was often with them, although for the most part she remained in Kent. I thought often of visiting her there, in spite of Father’s disapproval, but I had much to occupy me at court. I did see Aunt Elizabeth, who had duly married Sir Edward Warner, having met him when he came to Cowling Castle to discuss a possible betrothal to me.

When I heard that Father was to be installed as a knight of the Garter, one of the greatest honors an English king could bestow upon a subject, I was determined to make an opportunity to mend fences. My entire family came to court for the ceremony on the thirteenth of December. At my urging, Jane Warwick invited them to sup with her, then slipped quietly away, leaving Will and myself to host the meal.

“A neat trap.” My father’s grudging acknowledgment gave no hint of
what he would do next. He could walk out, taking the others with him.

Mother placed one hand on his arm and smiled up at him. “Sit down, George. This foolishness has gone on long enough.”

Soft music drifted out from behind a screen. Well-trained servants carried in platters and flagons and vanished as soon as they’d placed them on the table. Despite a certain awkwardness, we began to eat.

I studied each of my brothers in turn. It had been years since I’d last seen any of them. I was a mature married lady of twenty-three, while William had grown into a tall, sturdy young man of twenty-two. He sported a fine spade beard. As if he felt my gaze upon him, he glanced my way, hazel eyes intense. “You look well, Bess. Being Marchioness of Northampton must agree with you.”

“Are you important?” nine-year-old Edmund piped up.

Father snorted. Mother shushed him.

“We like to think so,” Will said. He dealt daily with the young king and was more at ease with a boy of Edmund’s age than I was.

“Do you think, my lord, that there will be another invasion of France?” This question came from my brother George, named after our father. He was nearly seventeen and likely to see battle if hostilities did break out again. He had shot up in height and now stood a full head taller than our brother Thomas, who was ten months George’s junior.

“As far as I can see,” I answered, “we are always at war with France, and with Scotland, too. It matters little whether peace treaties are signed.”

“Can you tell us what the king is like?” John asked. At fourteen he bore a strong physical resemblance to Father, having inherited his square face and serious brown eyes.

“King Edward is a very studious, religious youth, weighed down by great responsibilities,” Will answered. “But he excels at many sports, too. In time, I think, he will be as great a monarch as his father was.”

At eleven, my brother Henry had a particular interest in the twelve-year-old king. “I should like to be one of his schoolmates,” he declared. “Can you arrange it?”

Will glanced at Father, who merely shrugged. “I can mention your interest to His Grace, Henry, but I cannot guarantee he will invite you to court. Most of his companions have been with him for many years. He would have to displace someone to make room for you.”

“He could dismiss the Duke of Somerset’s sons,” Henry suggested. “Send them to the Tower where they belong.”

Will looked so uncomfortable with the suggestion that I rushed to intervene. “The king is loyal to his friends. Besides, young Lord Hertford and his brother are innocent of their father’s crimes.”

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