Betrayal (45 page)

“For truth, I do not know. I was only allowed out to attend Elisabeth’s wedding. None of the household has been granted leave since Viscount Rochford left with his wife for Durham House. The Queen was so angry that he chose to accompany Lady Jane to their home that she has refused his return to her household. Without Lord Rochford, my lady Queen is left amongst her enemies.”

“Do not fret so, love. All will be well soon. Soon we shall be married and all will be well. Now go, it is late and you must not be tardy in your return lest they not let you out again.” Jamie said, kissing her hair, forehead, nose, and lips. “I love you, dearest,” he whispered as he released her.

“I love you too,” she cried, then turned to run up the stairs to the palace.

Jamie walked back to the river slowly. Something was troubling him. Andrew was up to something but Jamie didn’t know what. They had been eating recently at The Hound and Fox when Thomas Seymour came in looking for Andrew and they had left together.  Now, what was that about?  He knew that Andrew was spending time with Seymour but what would a wool merchant from Cornwall have that the brother of the
Viscount Beauchamp would want? Jamie gained the ferry just as it was leaving the dock.

At Southwark, he climbed the embankment, stopping at the nearest tavern. His head hurt and he was too tired to think anymore. If he couldn’t solve his puzzles he’d drink them away.

                                                                                    ***

             
Thomas Seymour hailed Andrew in the garden at Greenwich several days later. “Ho,” he called after Andrew. “How suits you married life?”

             
“It suits me well,” Andrew replied, doffing his cap. “You should try it, Master Seymour.”

             
“Not I, Master Tremayne.  There are too many fruits upon the vine for me to settle for a sour grape. Speaking of grapes, will you join me for a drink? I would speak with you.”

             
“Gladly, Master Seymour, I have had a thought that might interest you.”

             
The two set off in search of a nearby tavern.

             
“Draw close, Master Seymour. My wife,” Andrew began, cricking his finger to indicate he was telling a secret. “My wife, as you know, serves the Queen in her bedchamber.”

             
“Yes, yes, Tremayne, I know that, what of it?”

             
“She sees who comes and goes, you see. Sees everyone she does,” Andrew hinted coyly. “She sees those who are known to frequent the Queen’s chambers and those who are not. Are you following me, Master Seymour?”

             
“I think so, Master Tremayne, but pray continue.”

             
“Suppose I was able to provide a list of, say, the Queen’s gentlemen callers, would that be of interest to you?”

             
“Gentlemen callers, you say. Yes, I think that could be of interest, Master Tremayne. But of what use is such a list? Most of them are known already. Even the King knows who goes there.”

             
“You misunderstand, Master Seymour, what I offer is not merely a list of names, but dates and times as well. Pardon my frankness, sir, but it is your desire and mine as well, to see your sister Jane on the throne of England. But there already sits a woman on that throne.”

             
Thomas cleared his throat. “I have heard the King means to set Anne aside, divorce her,” Thomas Seymour said as he pulled open the heavy oak door of the Black Horse Inn.

             
Once seated at a worn table at the back of the tap room Andrew spoke again. “Pardon, my lord, but that will never happen. Bluff Harry will not allow himself to look a fool.”

             
Seymour nodded his head as he sipped his watered wine.

             
“No, Master Seymour, there must be no doubts about his marriage to your sister. He must be free and clear to wed and beget a legitimate heir on her. Do you not see Thomas? There is but one way that can happen.”

             
“I will not have the lady’s blood on my hands!” Thomas Seymour almost shouted as he realized what Andrew had been saying.

             
Andrew raised his hands to reassure Seymour. “Rest easy, my lord; no blame will rest with you. I have spoken with Master Cromwell…”

             
“Ah, Cromwell,” Seymour said, the name souring his mouth.

             
“He is a friend, Thomas. He seeks what we all seek, a return to the old ways.”

             
“Perhaps, and perhaps not; I have little trust in the man.”

             
“Ah, but he can be useful.”

             
“I’ll drink to that. Now, Andrew, what is this plan of yours?”

***

              Elisabeth rejoiced when she returned to Whitehall Palace with the Queen’s household to find George Boleyn waiting on the quay. He strode toward the Queen’s barge, a broad smile covering his face.  “Here, sister, your hand,” he said extending his right hand to Anne.  “It is good to have you home.”

             
Anne beamed a wide smile as she gained her feet and disembarked. “It is indeed,” she replied quietly as she stepped from the gently swaying dock on to dry ground. “Is Jane here too?”

             
“No,” George said, glancing at Elisabeth, “she has returned to Beaulieu to await your desire. Do you wish her to return to Court?”

             
“Not yet,” Anne said, taking her brother’s hand. “I would have your undivided attention, sweet brother,” she teased as they started toward the stone steps.

             
George paused; glancing over his shoulder, he winked at Elisabeth. Then turning once more to his sister he said, “The King is returning from Richmond even as we speak. Something has changed, Anne; do you know what it is?”

“I know only that he bade me return to Whitehall. He wrote that our time apart has been too long and he desired that it should end before Lent. Now, dear brother, let us go home,” Anne continued as she hiked her skirts to climb the dockside stone steps.

Elisabeth stayed behind to see to the unloading of the barge. She watched sadly as the two siblings disappeared into the rose garden.

Later Elisabeth was surprised to see the King enter her lady’s chamber.  Henry seemed to have forgotten his anger and disappointment when he called to Elisabeth to go and leave him alone with his beloved queen. She bowed hastily and fled the chamber, running down to the Great Hall to search for George.

“The King is here,” she called when she found him.

“Here at Whitehall?” George asked incredulously. “He is not due to return until tomorrow.”

“He is here and in the Queen’s chamber at this moment.”

“Is he angry? Should I go to her?”

“I think not. He was his most jovial self just now and when he bid me leave he was smiling and offering my lady a gift.”

“Did you hear what was said as you were leaving?”

“No, they spoke in hushed tones, like lovers,” Elisabeth said, blushing.

George took her hand, leading Elisabeth to a small alcove. “Do you think he has forgiven her?”

Elisabeth shrugged her shoulders. It had all happened too quickly, their return to Court and the King’s sudden visit to the Queen’s bedchamber; Elisabeth didn’t know what to say so she kept quiet. She was uneasy as she looked out over the Great Hall. There in a corner sat Edward Seymour; Viscount Beauchamp, his brother Thomas sat close by frowning over his wine-cup. Elisabeth pointed to the two men. “They do not look happy that the King has returned to Whitehall and my lady Queen.”

George shrugged dismissing the Seymours with a frown. A smile crept to his lips as he turned back to Elisabeth. “Perhaps he means to make amends to her for his desertion of her in her time of need. Did she welcome him to her chamber?”

“Oh, yes. She was surprised by his sudden visit, but she was indeed most happy to see him, of that I am sure.”

“I wish he hadn’t sent you away. I would love to be able to know what is going on upstairs now.”

Elisabeth blushed, then shyly she said, “But my lord, surely you can guess.”

“Yes, dearest,” George whispered, “I can guess, but I would prefer to know for sure.” He lifted Elisabeth’s chin with his finger, leaning forward to kiss her nose. “Now dearest, as to us, when can we meet?”

“We are met now, my lord,” Elisabeth teased, the heat of her desire staining her cheeks red.

George was about to speak when a page came into the hall. “My lords and ladies,” he called several times before the hall fell silent. “My lord King demands I invite you all to a masque to be held Tuesday next, here at Whitehall. In honor of our lady Queen’s
time in France, my lord King demands a Mardi Gras to celebrate Shrove Tuesday, before we begin our Lenten sacrifice.” The young boy bowed to his audience and withdrew.

Elisabeth stared open-mouthed. George Boleyn shook his head as if to clear his ears. “Did I hear right, Elisabeth, a masque is planned for next week?”

“It is what the boy said, I am sure, but,” she paused to look for the Seymour brothers; they were leaving the Great Hall. “I fear the invitation did not please them,” she continued pointing to the departing men.

“I do not doubt it.  But for the moment I prefer to enjoy the closeness of you. Will you walk with me in the garden, Elisabeth?”

“I should check that my lady is all right,” Elisabeth protested, blushing.

“If she is with her husband then all is well. Now, walk with me.  I am in need of pleasant company.”

“Are you not returning to Beaulieu tonight?” Elisabeth asked as they left the hall.

“No, I think not,” George answered as he led her out into the darkness. As he pulled Elisabeth close in the darkened entryway he whispered, “Kiss me, my dearest, these weeks away from you have left me a starving man and I hunger for your touch.”

Elisabeth leaned willingly into his embrace, welcoming his lips with hers, answering his searching touch with one of her own. Shocked with her behavior Elisabeth pushed him away. “I can’t,” she cried. “I am married.”

“As am I, but let us not let that stop us,” George pleaded.

“I can’t. I made a promise before God and I cannot break it,” Elisabeth cried as she turned from George.

“God’s Bones!” George growled as he released Elisabeth..

“It was at your bidding that I agreed to marry Andrew,” Elisabeth said quietly.

“I know,” George answered sadly. “But at the time I thought Henry meant to put Anne aside and all was lost. I guess I never really expected him to come back to her.” George Boleyn shook his head.  “Now what are we to do?” he asked, leading Elisabeth to a nearby stone bench.

Sitting down Elisabeth took his hand, raised it to her lips and kissed it. “I love you, George, I always will and if you want me to continue to meet you, I will. I will do anything you ask.”

They sat silently for a few minutes before George spoke. “I do not know what to do. I love you more than life itself, this I know is true, for I have never loved anyone as I love you.  Give me time, my love, I will find a way. Perhaps both our marriages can be yet set aside.”

In the darkness Elisabeth shook her head, remembering that she had just revealed her pregnancy to Andrew and that he believed her when she told him the child was his. He would never abandon ‘his’ child nor let her leave with it.  She was caught in the web of her own lies and there seemed no way out. “It’s impossible,” Elisabeth said quietly.

“With Anne restored to the King’s favor nothing is impossible, you will see Elisabeth, nothing is impossible,” he repeated, willing her to believe him.

“Yes, my love, if you say so. But I must go in. They will be looking for me.”

“Yes, yes, of course. Only kiss me once more that I may sleep with the memory of your warm embrace.”

Elisabeth allowed herself to be folded into George’s warm embrace. When his lips touched hers, she permitted herself to believe that they could be together, that they could be freed of their unwanted spouses. She prayed that what he said was true and that indeed, nothing was impossible.

***

             
Later that night Henry met with Cromwell in his antechamber. “Thomas,” Henry began as he paced nervously before the fire, “I am uncertain of this plan of yours. I think it a mistake to resume my marital duties. Will it not affect your suit for the annulment of my marriage to the Lady Anne?”

             
Thomas Cromwell swept a deep bow from his waist dragging his cap along the smooth wooden floorboards. “Have no fear, your Grace. We need time to garner all the facts needed to persuade our worthy Church leaders of the veracity of our claim that you were never legally married to the Lady Anne Boleyn.  My lord Cardinal Wolsey had documents in his possession proving her pre-contract to Henry Percy. It is amongst his papers; I have seen it myself. There are mountains of papers to be gone through. I believe the man kept every scrap of paper that came into his hands. And I must have this particular piece of paper before we can proceed.  You must appear, your Grace, to be a true and faithful husband seeking naught but the truth of your legal relationship, therefore you must resume your marital duties as prescribed by Canon Law.” Cromwell drew a deep breath, unconsciously holding it until the King at last spoke.