In the Shadow of the Crown - Plaidy Jean (книги хорошем качестве бесплатно без регистрации .txt) 📗

I knew what it felt like to live under the threat of the axe. I myself had done so for a number of years. We were none of us safe in these times.

When we sat together over our needlework, she would ask me questions about the King's previous wives. I talked to her a little about my mother, and it was amazing to me that there could be such sympathy between us, because she was a Lutheran; yet this made little difference to our friendship.

I think she was most interested in my mother and Anne Boleyn—the two discarded wives. Jane had not reigned long enough for her to meet disaster; and she had been the only one to produce a son. I knew what was in her mind. The King wanted to be rid of her, and we had examples of what he did with unwanted wives.

At times there was a placidity about her, as though she were prepared for some fearful fate and would accept it stoically; at others I glimpsed terror.

There was something else I noticed. It was at table. There was a young girl there—very pretty, with laughing eyes and a certain provocative way with her, and the King often had his eyes on her.

I asked one of the women who she was.

“She's the old Duchess of Norfolk's granddaughter, Catharine Howard.”

“She is very attractive.”

“Yes…in a way,” said the other.

I thought if she was related to the Howards she must be a connection of Anne Boleyn. There was something about these Howard women.

I put the matter out of my mind. After all, the King had always had an eye for a certain type of woman.

I did not realize then how great was my father's passion for this girl. She was small, young and childlike—very pretty in a sensuous way, with doe-like eyes and masses of curly hair. There was a look of expectancy about her, a certain promise, which I understood later when I learned something of what her life had been.

As for Anne of Cleves, she had none of that quality about her at all; she was pleasant-looking; she was tall, of course, and perhaps a little ungainly; her features were a trifle heavy, but her eyes were a beautiful brown, and I thought her flaxen hair charming.

However, my father would have none of her, and his growing passion for Catharine Howard made him determined to be rid of her.

They were uneasy days. Philip had gone back to Bavaria after taking a loving farewell and telling me we should soon be together. I was sorry to see him go. I had liked to have him near me. I had had so little of that attention he bestowed on me, and it made me feel attractive and desirable like other women; and as one day I planned to convert him back to the true Faith, I was able to still my conscience about his religious views.

Cromwell was created Earl of Essex in April. I wondered why, for my father was blaming him more and more for his marriage.

Politics were changing, too. Chapuys told me with some amusement that my father's interest in the German princes was waning, and he was veering now toward the Emperor. My cousin was a man of whom my father was afraid more than of anyone else—and with good reason, too. Charles was proving himself to be the most astute monarch in Europe; his power was increasing, and it was not good to be on bad terms with him. My mother being dead meant that there was no great reason for contention between them. I was being treated with a certain respect, so there was no quarrel on that score. Of course, the Emperor would not approve of my betrothal to Philip of Bavaria any more than he had liked the alliance with Cleves, but my father did not like it either—so he and the Emperor were in agreement about that.

Who had forged the German alliance? Cromwell. Who had brought the King a bride he disliked? The same.

The King had never liked Cromwell, and, like Wolsey's, Cromwell's swift rise from humble origins had angered many at Court; moreover, Cromwell's enemies were as numerous as those who had helped Wolsey to his fall.

There were two things my father ardently desired: to rid himself first of all of his wife, and secondly of Cromwell And those who looked for favors would help him to attain both those ends.

The alliance with the petty German princes had been a mistake; and Cromwell had made that mistake. He had, it was said, received bribes; he had given out commissions without the King's knowledge; he had trafficked in heretical books. There was rumor that he had considered marrying me and setting himself up as king, an idea which shocked me considerably, even though I did not, for one moment, believe it.

He was tried, and as all those present knew what verdict the King wanted, they gave it.

I was horrified. Whatever else Cromwell had done, he had worked well for the King. It appalled me that he could have come to this. I knew that Cromwell's vital mistake was to have arranged the marriage with Anne of Cleves. But was it his fault that her physical appearance did not please the King?

I felt sorry for the man…to have risen so high and to fall so low. There was only one to say a good word for him and that was Cranmer. Cranmer, though, was not a bold man. He asked the King for leniency but was abruptly told to be silent, and immediately he obeyed.

Cromwell languished in prison, not knowing whether he would be beheaded or burned at the stake. He did implore the King to have mercy, but my father was intent on one thing, and that was to bring his marriage to Anne of Cleves to an end.

Norfolk was sent to visit Cromwell in the Tower, and there Cromwell revealed to him the content of several conversations he had had with the King disclosing intimate details of the latter's relationship with Anne of Cleves which made it clear that the marriage had not been consummated.

As a result it was declared null and void.

I was with Anne at Richmond when the deputation arrived. She went to the window and saw Norfolk at the head of it. She turned very pale.

“They have come for me,” she said. “They have come as they came for Anne Boleyn.”

I stood beside her, watching the deputation disembark at the stairs and come toward the palace.

“You should leave me,” she said.

I took her hand and pressed it firmly. “I will stay with you,” I told her.

“No, no. It is better not. They would not allow it … Better to leave me.”

I knew her thoughts. She was seeing herself walking out to Tower Green as her namesake had gone before her. She must have thought during the last months of this possibility, and she had considered it with a certain calm, but when it was close… seeming almost inevitable, she felt, I believe, that she was looking death straight in the face.

I could see that my presence distracted her. So I kissed her gently and left.

I learned that when the deputation was presented to her, she fainted.

THEY HAD GONE.

I went to her apartments. I had already heard of the faint and was surprised when she greeted me with exuberance.

“I am thanking God,” she said.

“But you were ill…”

“I am well now. I am no longer the Queen.”

I stared at her, as she began to laugh.

“I …” she spluttered. “I am the King's sister!”

I could see that she needed to recover from the shock she had suffered when the deputation had arrived, for she had been sure they had come to conduct her to the Tower. But no… they had come to tell her that she was no longer the King's wife. In future she would be known as his sister.

“How can this be?” I asked.

“With the King,” she said, still hovering between laughter and tears, “they do anything he wishes. I was his queen and now he has made me his sister. How can that be? you ask me. It can be because he says it is so.”

“And you…you are safe.”

She gripped my hands, and I knew how great her fear had been.

“I am no longer the King's wife,” she said soberly. “And that is something to be very happy about. Ah, I must be careful. They would call that treason. But you will not betray me, dear Mary.”