Secrets of the Tudor Court Boxed Set (123 page)

Lady Anne’s hands gripped the sill as she stared out at the late-afternoon sky. A few flakes of snow drifted down, although the sun still shone brightly. In spite of the brazier heating the room, I shivered.

“I am told he weeps continuously,” she said.

“Will?”

“Who else have we been speaking of?” She swung around to face me, her hands curled into fists at her sides. “I have made it my business to know everything about him, and about you, as well.” She drew in a deep, steadying breath and slowly unclenched her fingers. “However, it
is
to my advantage to do as you ask. I will petition the queen. I have friends and kinswomen here at court who will join me in asking for a pardon.” She gave a wry laugh. “But be warned. It will come with conditions. To the queen, I am Will’s only wife. She wants us to be reconciled. He will be required to give up his illicit alliance with you if he wants to go free.”

She took a step closer to me, forcing me to meet eyes that were cold and calculating, without a shred of softer feelings.

“If you care for him,” she said softly, “you must abandon him. The queen will not tolerate any further infidelity.”

I held her gaze. “I will do whatever I must in exchange for a full pardon.”

44

W
ill was freed on the last day of December. Griggs stationed himself outside the Lion Gate to bring his master to Edward Warner’s house in Carter Lane, where I was waiting for him. I was shocked by Will’s appearance. He’d lost so much weight that he seemed but a shadow of himself. His face was haggard. He’d been imprisoned for only five months, but he’d aged five years.

His eyes lit up when he saw me, and he stumbled forward to take me in his arms. I returned the embrace, weeping when I felt the way his bones seemed to protrude from his skin. We clung to each other, kissing, not wanting to let go, but even as we embraced I could not help but think that he did not even smell the same. The miasma of the Tower clung to his clothes, his hair, and his beard.

When we stepped apart, I realized that he was favoring his right leg. I made a small sound of distress.

“It’s the damp,” he said, trying to make light of it. “Nothing to worry about.”

“But you’re limping.”

He laughed off my concern. “A pity, though, that I don’t still have that sturdy staff King Henry gave me.”

It had been left behind in Winchester House. I supposed it was in some royal storeroom by this time, unless Bishop Gardiner had claimed it. Our old enemy had risen to the top again and was now Queen Mary’s lord chancellor.

In spite of my promise to Anne Bourchier, I had never intended to abandon Will. Since the court had gone to Richmond Palace for Christmas, I did not think anyone would notice if we spent a few days together before I had to leave him again to keep him safe. I said nothing of what I meant to do. I concentrated on restoring my husband to health.

All Mother’s training in the stillroom served me well. I made Will drink strengthening possets and evil-tasting herbal brews. By Twelfth Night he was much improved and I could no longer put off telling him about my meeting with Anne Bourchier. I chose my moment carefully, not in private, where he could woo me into changing my mind, but at supper with Aunt Elizabeth and Sir Edward there to support my arguments.

At court the end of Yuletide meant feasts and banquets and a last burst of merriment from the Lord of Misrule. There would be masques and dancing and an abundance of rich food. Aunt Elizabeth, Sir Edward, Will, and I took our meal together in Carter Lane as we always did, but in honor of the day had several more dishes than usual and sweet wafers and a doucet—spiced custard pie—to follow.

I told my tale while we consumed boiled capons, roast chine of beef, pies made with minced meat, and a kid with pudding in its belly. “And so,” I said when I’d recounted the entire conversation, “under the law, our marriage never existed and you are still married to her. We risk the queen’s wrath if we stay together.”

“No power on earth can make me take Anne back,” Will vowed.

“It sounds to me as if she does not want you, either,” Aunt Elizabeth said.

Will scowled at her.

“I believe we can still be together,” I said, “but we must make sure the queen does not find out. I have given this matter much thought and have devised a plan.”

“She has always been a resourceful woman,” Will said to Sir Edward. The pride in his voice warmed me more than the fire crackling in the hearth.

“In a few days, I will leave London and go to Cowling Castle to ask Father for the use of one of his more remote manor houses. If you wait a few weeks to steal away and meet me there, we should be able to live out the rest of our lives in peace and seclusion, far from those who would keep us apart.”

Will looked dubious. “Is that what you truly want?”

“Have you a better suggestion?” I took a bite of capon, but the savory sauce it had been doused in seemed to have lost its flavor.

“We could go into exile in France,” Will said. “I have friends among the French nobility who would take us in.” He polished off the beef on his plate and reached for his wine goblet. As I’d expected, he was not taking my decision seriously. He did not want to be parted, even for a short time, any more than I did, but I knew we had no choice.

“To live on their charity?” I asked.

“Your father would be supporting us if we lived on one of his estates.” He sopped up the last of the gravy with a piece of manchet bread and continued to eat.

Before I could counter this objection, Aunt Elizabeth sent her husband a pointed look. “Tell them, Edward.”

“Eliza—”

“Tell them, or I will. You brought my son into it. Why not Will Parr?”

“Will has no tenants left to call to arms.”

Sir Edward’s blunt assessment confused me, but a gleam of anticipation came into Will’s eyes. “You’ve said too much already not to go on.”

“We’ve been meeting at Suffolk Place,” Sir Edward said. “Suffolk and his brothers and others. Tom Wyatt’s with us.” He named more men,
several of whom I recognized as evangelicals, and explained that they planned an uprising on four fronts. One of them would be Kent, where my cousin Tom was to raise the county against the queen.

They were talking about a conspiracy. My stomach clenched in dread. There would be no question about this rebellion being treason. I wanted to clap my hands over my ears so I would hear no more, but it was already too late.

“To what end?” Will asked. “You will not find much support to restore Queen Jane.”

Sir Edward shook his head. “Not Jane. The rightful heir—Elizabeth Tudor. Two things happened while you were in the Tower, Will. Queen Mary’s first Parliament once again declared King Henry’s marriage to Anne Boleyn null and void, thus confirming Princess Elizabeth as a bastard.”

“That is hardly surprising,” Will said mildly. “And such an act has the force of law. If there had been time for Parliament to ratify King Edward’s device for the succession, no one would have questioned Jane’s right to succeed.”

I held my tongue rather than contradict my husband, but I did not believe that, even with such a law, Queen Mary could have been stopped. Then she’d have ordered the next Parliament to repeal Edward’s plan for the succession, as she’d had them revoke the private act Will had secured to free him to marry me.

“A pity, that.” Something in the dryness of my aunt’s voice made me think she agreed with me.

“You said that two things happened while I was a prisoner, Warner. What was the other?”

“The queen agreed to marry Philip of Spain.”

Will came to his feet in a rush. His chair tumbled over backward with a resounding crash.

“It has not yet been announced,” Sir Edward continued, “but there is no doubt the proclamation will come soon. You know what that means, Will. A foreigner will be king of England, and this particular foreigner
will not hesitate to unleash the Inquisition. Pretending to convert to the Church of Rome will not suffice. Priests will search out every hint of heresy, and if they look, they will find it. None of us will be safe.”

I hoped Sir Edward exaggerated the danger, but I could see that both he and Will believed what he was saying. It frightened them. The more I thought about it, the more afraid I became, too.

“Queen Mary already has reason to dislike Will,” I said. “She’ll send him back to the Tower in a heartbeat if she has any excuse. He must have nothing to do with the uprising.”

“All the more reason he should do everything in his power to help us succeed,” Sir Edward countered.

“France,” I murmured, “begins to look most inviting.”

“We must do one or the other.” Will righted his chair and resumed his place at table, reaching for his wine goblet. “Flee or fight.”

I did not think his choice and mine would be the same. “When is this rebellion to begin?” I asked Sir Edward.

“Palm Sunday.”

“But that’s months away. Sometime in mid-March and this is only the first week in January. How can you possibly think that your plans will remain secret that long?”

“We are pledged to keep silence.”

And yet, I thought, you blithely share every detail with Will who, for all you know, truly has converted to the Catholic faith.

Three days later, when Tom Wyatt paid another visit to Carter Lane, I realized that he was even less adept at secrecy than Sir Edward. He boasted that he’d been in touch with the new French ambassador, and that he expected support from that quarter when he called the men of Kent to arms.

“It is time for me to go to Cowling Castle,” I told Will when Tom left.

“What need to be parted now, sweeting? Soon all will be put right.”

I had my doubts about that, but short of reporting the rebels to the queen myself, there was nothing I could do to stop the march of events. “I am not supposed to be here with you,” I reminded him. “With all this
plotting and scheming going on, the last thing we should do is draw official attention to this house.”

Reluctantly, Will agreed that it would be best if I left. We spent the night in loving and said a tearful farewell when I set out the next day.

Both Birdie and Griggs had remained with me at Aunt Elizabeth’s house and now accompanied me into Kent. Will and I had agreed that I would stay with my parents until after the rebellion had succeeded in deposing Queen Mary. I did not mention it to Will, but I still intended to ask Father for the loan of one of his manor houses. I would make sure it was in readiness to receive us should the rebellion fail.

I reached Cowling Castle the next day. I’d expected my father and mother to be there, and my youngest sibling, Edmund, who was now fourteen, but I was surprised to find all my brothers in residence.

“Have you brought messages?” George demanded. At twenty, he sported a beard just like Father’s, but he was taller and thinner than our sire, almost lanky. His eyes were bright with anticipation.

The same fever burned in Thomas and John and Henry and William and made my blood run cold. They were waiting for word from Tom Wyatt. My brothers meant to rise up to prevent the queen’s marriage to Philip of Spain.

“I see there is no common sense in this house, either,” I said.

They found this sentiment amusing.

“Now you sound like Mother,” Henry complained, “always trying to spoil our fun.”

I thought it the better part of valor to listen rather than argue. There was no reasoning with men spoiling for a fight. When we joined my parents for supper, Mother and I were the only ones to say aloud that the failure of such an attempt would bring disaster down upon us all.

“You cannot help being afraid,” my brother Thomas informed me in a low, condescending voice. He was well equipped to look down his nose at me. That hawklike appendage was the longest in the family. Unlike George and William, he had not grown a beard, most likely because he knew women found the cleft in his clean-shaven chin attractive.

“And why is that?” I asked, well aware that I would not like his answer.

“Women are weak. That is why we must rid ourselves of Queen Mary. Women are always ruled by their husbands. No one was enthusiastic about being ruled by King Guildford, but at least he was an Englishman.”

“Gil Dudley would never have been king. Queen Jane refused to grant him the title. She told him he’d have to be content with a dukedom.”

“She’d have given in. Women are—”

“Yes, I know—weak. And yet you intend to put another woman on the throne in Mary’s place. What if Elizabeth does not marry to suit you?”

Plainly Thomas had not thought that far ahead. I rolled my eyes, amused and appalled at the same time.

“I have no objection to replacing Queen Mary with Queen Elizabeth,” I said, “but this rebellion is doomed from the start. The plot is too complex. Even I—a mere woman—can see its obvious flaws.”

“What flaws?” Thomas demanded, offended.

“The most blatant of them is the lack of a single leader who can rally all of England to Elizabeth’s cause. The Duke of Suffolk is not capable of it. Neither is Cousin Tom.”

“Traitor,” Henry muttered, meaning me.

Thomas looked me up and down, a speculative expression on his face. “Perhaps we should lock you up until the rebellion is under way.”

“I am not about to sneak out of the castle in the dark of night and run off to court to warn the queen. She would not listen to me anyway.”

Only from Father did I detect any hint of sympathy, but he made no attempt to defend me from my brothers. Mother, too, remained silent, although the worry lines in her forehead deepened with every harsh word her children spoke to one another.

“Better safe than sorry,” my brother John muttered. “We could put you in Aunt Elizabeth’s old rooms.”

“Truce, Bess,” George said, slicing into an apple. He held out a section as a peace offering. When I just glared at him, he ate it himself.

“We have to take up arms,” Edmund said with all the seriousness a fourteen-year-old boy can muster. The scattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose made him look even younger. “The Spanish stand ready to invade.”