At the King's Pleasure (Secrets of the Tudor Court) (39 page)

The next day, in the queen’s apartments, Anne deliberately sought her sister’s company. Since Elizabeth was hemming shirts for the poor, Anne carried her embroidery frame over to the same bench. Her heart was not in her stitches. She suspected she’d have to rip them all out and start over again when she was in a calmer frame of mind. She hoped Elizabeth wouldn’t notice how clumsy her fingers were.

In as casual a manner as she could manage, she asked for news of their brother. She knew Elizabeth heard from him on a regular basis. Edward even, on occasion, asked for her opinion.

“He regrets that he missed the christening of Mary’s first child,” Elizabeth said.

“Is there some particular reason he could not attend?” Anne wondered if Mary’s husband, Lord Bergavenny, had told him to stay away in the hope of avoiding any contact with his traitor of a father-in-law.

“Edward did not say, but perhaps he simply had too much to do at Thornbury.”

Elizabeth sent a sly, smug smile in Anne’s direction and Anne obediently leaned closer, mutely encouraging her sister to share whatever secret she knew. Elizabeth was nothing if not predictable.

“Edward called a meeting of his council last week.” Like the king, the duke had privy councilors to advise him. “He called attention to his beard—”

“Edward has grown a beard?” Madge had not told her that.

Elizabeth scowled at the interruption. “He called attention to his beard,” she repeated, “and he told them that he has made a vow unto God not to be shaved again until he has seen Jerusalem.”

Anne stared at her in shock. “Edward plans to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land?
Edward?
”

Elizabeth set aside her sewing to give Anne her full attention. This time her smile was genuine. “He has given the matter much thought, even deciding which of his servants will manage his estates in his
absence. He told his council that such a journey would give him more comfort than to receive a gift of land to the value of ten thousand pounds from the king.”

Anne felt her eyebrows shoot up at this exaggeration. That did not sound like Edward at all.

“He expects to obtain a license to leave England from the king right shortly, although it may take some time yet, perhaps as much as two years, before all the travel arrangements can be made.”

That Edward hoped to flee the country before his traitorous behavior was uncovered was the only explanation that made sense to Anne. Her brow furrowed in thought, wondering how she might help him do so. The sooner he left England, the better.

Anne considered what other persons she could approach without arousing undue suspicion. She wished her other brother, Hal, was at court, but he’d found country living to his liking and these days rarely ventured far from his rural estates. That left Will Compton.

To Anne’s astonishment, the battle at the barriers between George and Will seemed to have cleared the air between the two men. They would never be close friends, but since their return from France they had been able to tolerate each other’s company at court. Anne, too, had found herself more at ease with Will these days, although there were still occasions when she caught him staring at her with longing in his gaze. All three of them were grateful that Lady Compton was not at court. She had returned to Compton Wynyates and would likely remain there.

Anne chose her moment with care, intercepting Will as he crossed an empty courtyard on some errand for the king. She matched her pace to his and smiled up at him. The glance he sent her way in return was a wary one.

“To what do I owe the pleasure of your company, Lady Anne?”

“Curiosity,” she replied. “I hear that my brother has requested leave to make a pilgrimage to Jerusalem. Is the king likely to grant permission?”

“His Grace is more likely to approve that request than he is to allow Buckingham to take hundreds of retainers with him into Wales.”

“Does Edward desire to do so? Whatever for?” She stopped walking, obliging Will to come to a halt as well.

“To help him collect his rents, or so he claims.”

Something in Will’s tone warned Anne that the king, or perhaps the cardinal, did not believe this “claim.” They stood near a bench shielded by an arbor. She sat. After a moment’s hesitation, Will joined her.

“What is it you want to know, Anne?”

“I realize that there is no love lost between you and Edward, but have you some reason to believe he’s lying about his need to collect his rents?”

“He wants to take a retinue of three or four hundred men with him. To have that many retainers smacks of gathering an army.”

A sputter of laughter escaped her, in part because she was relieved that Will made no mention of monks or prophecies, but mostly because she understood why Edward wanted such a large escort. “My brother is not popular with his Welsh tenants,” she explained. “He wants such a large escort for his own protection, and to compel his tenants to pay what they owe. Most of them are several years in arrears. I know this because Edward is steward for George’s Welsh lands, as well, and our rents have likewise gone uncollected.”

“Still, to ask to take four hundred men—other nobles have been charged with illegal retaining and thrown in prison for less.”

“As I have reason to know!” She snapped out the words as her good humor evaporated. “And I also know that a charge of illegal retaining is nothing more than an excuse for the king to levy enormous fines on hapless noblemen—a convenient means to fill his own coffers—or banish unwanted courtiers from his presence. How, I wonder, does His Grace expect my brother to pay a fine if Edward is not allowed to collect the monies that are owed to him?”

She surged to her feet and let a wave of indignation carry her out of the courtyard. It had the added advantage of preventing Will from asking inconvenient questions. By the time she returned to her lodgings, she was smiling.

“Your concerns are valid,” she told Madge later that day, “but at present no one suspects Edward of anything more than keeping too many men in livery. If they did, Will Compton would have known of it.”

“Someone will find out,” Madge fretted. “Too many people have heard about the prophecy.”

“But Edward, I suspect, may already have had second thoughts about believing it.” She told Madge about her brother’s plans for a pilgrimage.

Madge nodded, looking thoughtful. “He has become more religious this past year.”

“I can think of no reason why the king should not grant Edward permission to go. He will be safe once he leaves England.”

“Except for the perils of the journey,” Madge said.

“That is as God wills.” If any harm came to her brother at the hands of the king, her conscience would trouble her, but that would not be the case if he met ill fortune while seeking to atone for his sins.

T
hree weeks after Lady Anne had reassured Madge as best she could, promised to keep an ear to the ground, and sent her back to Penshurst, she received a visit from Robert Gilbert. Although she’d heard nothing in the interim to alarm her, Anne regarded the Duke of Buckingham’s chancellor with wary eyes.

Anne had made it a point to spend more time in Will Compton’s company. She’d felt certain he would give her advance warning if he heard that Edward was in trouble with the king. When George had noticed, he’d accused her of encouraging the other man’s interest in her but Anne had teased her husband out of his pique without confiding in him. She was loath to compromise his safety. In truth, she wished she were still in ignorance of her brother’s machinations herself.

Gilbert’s intense black gaze focused on her. He seemed to be hinting that
Madge
had done the duke some disservice. “I am aware that Mistress Geddings visited you, Lady Anne. What did she tell you?”

“We are old friends,” Anne said in a noncommittal tone. She did not have to ask how he knew Madge had come at court. Anne had written to her brother and told him that they’d spent several days together. She had also warned Edward to be careful what persons he trusted because some of those he thought were trustworthy were not. She’d meant
Gilbert himself, and Knyvett. She wondered now if her letter had ever reached her brother. Gilbert might well have intercepted it. She was suddenly very glad that this meeting was taking place in a corner of the queen’s watching chamber, a room well populated with yeomen of the guard who would respond instantly if she called for help.

Gilbert rubbed the bridge of his hawklike nose and sighed. “Let me begin again, Lady Anne. I mean your friend no harm. The duke is concerned about her.”

“Then you may reassure my brother that Madge, and her daughter—
his
daughter—are surviving quite nicely without him.”

“You mistake my meaning, Lady Anne. The duke is concerned because Mistress Geddings left Bletchingly in company with Charles Knyvett, and Knyvett parted with the duke on less than amiable terms. If these two have since formed an alliance, the duke would know of it.”

“An. . . alliance? Do you mean a romantic attachment?” Amused by the thought that her brother might be jealous, Anne almost laughed in Gilbert’s face.

“No, my lady. I mean that they may be part of a conspiracy against the duke.”

Her smile vanished. Her chest tight with dread, Anne tried to think how best to respond. The idea that Madge Geddings would conspire against Edward was ludicrous, but Anne herself had tried to warn Edward that Knyvett might be bent on betrayal. And that
Gilbert
might be in league with him.

“Your brother,” Gilbert continued, “has charged me to discover if Mistress Geddings has made any misreport of him to the cardinal.”

“That is the last thing she would do.”

Gilbert massaged the point where his nose met his forehead as if pain throbbed behind it. “May I be open with you, Lady Anne?” When she nodded, he went on. “The Duke of Buckingham has instructed me to determine whether Mistress Geddings is innocent of plotting against him. If she has done nothing to cause him harm, I am to ask Lady Elizabeth if she thinks the duchess will take Mistress Geddings back into her service.”

Naturally, Anne thought, Edward would not care to hear the
opinion of his
younger
sister! Then again, Elizabeth wrote regularly to both Edward and Eleanor and Anne did not. “And if Lady Elizabeth says no?”

“Then I am to ask her to suggest some other gentlewoman to be the duchess’s lady-in-waiting.”

It would be best if Madge stayed where she was, Anne thought. “Perhaps I can name one or two suitable candidates myself,” she said aloud.

Gilbert looked surprised by the offer.

“What other instructions did my brother give you?” Anne asked. “Perhaps I can be of further assistance.”

Gilbert looked down his long nose at her. “I do much doubt it, my lady, unless you know the whereabouts of two chaplains who have abandoned their posts with the duke without his leave.”

“Has he lost
more
servants? How careless of him. Is Master Delacourt one of them?” Anne held her breath waiting for Gilbert to answer. Delacourt was another who knew about the mad monk’s predictions. Safety lay in his continued loyalty to her brother.

Gilbert’s eyes narrowed. “Why would you think your brother’s confessor would seek other employment? What have you heard?”

“About Delacourt? Not a thing.”

She did not think he believed her, but he asked no more questions. Sketching a bow, he took his leave.

There was no reason, Anne told herself, to suspect that there was more going on here than the obvious. Her brother regretted letting Madge go. He was jealous of Charles Knyvett. He wanted reassurance that his mistress had not betrayed him with another man. Not even Edward could seriously believe Madge had been a spy in his household, or that she was part of a conspiracy to bring about his downfall.

Anne continued to keep her eyes peeled and her ears stretched. She communicated with Madge by letter, glad that her friend’s father had seen the wisdom of having his daughter taught to read and write. Although Anne was not sure it was the best course for Madge to take, she eventually forwarded a message from her to the duke.

In early January, Madge returned to the duchess’s service, traveling to Thornbury with young Margaret. She wrote to Anne after she arrived there. It was a bright, cheerful letter that spoke of the visit of a troupe of French players and of Edward’s plans to spend the month of February visiting shrines—Prince Edward’s tomb at Tewkesbury, Winchcombe, Gloucester Abbey, and the Holy Blood at Hailes Abbey—and to hunt all along the way.

With each passing week after that, Anne felt a lessening of her concern for her brother. . . until she chanced to see, in mid-February in an anteroom at Greenwich, two men in earnest conversation. One was Robert Gilbert. The other was Cardinal Wolsey.

She tried to tell herself that there was nothing out of the ordinary about this exchange. One of Gilbert’s duties was to spend time at court, petitioning for favors and garnering news. But he had a furtive air about him that she could not like, and the more she thought about it the more uneasy she became.

She went for a walk in the extensive park adjacent to the palace in an attempt to clear her head. It was a cold afternoon. Her furs kept her body warm, but the direction of her thoughts sent chills through her blood. Somehow, without intentionally heading in that direction, she found herself standing in front of a small house in the midst of the parkland.

It belonged to Will Compton as keeper of Greenwich Palace. Although he more commonly occupied his lodgings in the palace, hard by the king’s apartments, his servants kept the place ready for his use. Anne hesitated. Had fate brought her here? Did Will have the answers she sought? She could think of no one better suited to help her deal with the threat the cardinal posed. If Edward’s troubles were as dire as she feared, Will might be the only one who
could
help.

She rapped lightly at the door and told the lad who answered that she wished to speak with his master. She was shown into a cozy parlor where the fire was lit and the seats were comfortably padded, but she almost went away again before Will arrived. Indecision had her pacing in front of the hearth while she waited.