Jane Seymour, the Haunted Queen Read online

  “It will be good to have you home,” Mother said. “God knows, we need some cheer.”

  Jane thought of the letter in her pocket, the letter bearing the Queen’s seal, which had been waiting for her on her return from Amesbury. Soon, she would have to break it to Mother and the rest that she was leaving them once more, for she had been summoned back to court.

  * * *

  —

  The talk at Greenwich was all of the legate who had come from Rome to try the King’s case with Cardinal Wolsey. Mistress Anne Boleyn, miraculously restored to health, was riding higher in the King’s favor than ever before, to Jane’s dismay. She was relieved to learn that she would have to suffer Anne’s daily presence no longer, though, for the King had assigned his sweetheart an establishment of her own, at Durham House on the Strand, near London. Jane could not have borne much longer to see the Queen so slighted by her rival, and courtesy had its limits. Even so, it was galling to hear that Mistress Anne kept as much state there as if she were queen already. Everyone said it would come to pass. Meanwhile, the Queen showed herself as patient and saintly as ever, and the Cardinal was going about with a harassed look on his red-veined face.

  Jane was pleased to hear from Margery Horsman that Bryan had been restored to the Privy Chamber. They were in the dorter, unpacking the chest containing Jane’s gear, which had been awaiting her arrival.

  “He deserves it,” Jane said, and told Margery about his kindness to her.

  “It is the Queen who needs kindness just now,” Margery said. “She has been warned that she stirs up the King’s subjects against him, and that she is too cheerful. If only they knew what it costs her to look cheerful!”

  “She loves the King too much to stir up anyone against him,” Jane protested, shocked.

  But Katherine was taking the warning seriously. Jane soon found that life in her household had changed. The Queen never left the palace unless she had to. She adopted a grave demeanor and dressed in sober colors, so as not to draw attention to herself. No longer did she spend time making merry with her ladies; instead, she was to be found in her chapel, in prayer. Jane and most of the Queen’s women were fervently praying that the Pope or the legate would speak in her favor, and soon. Their existence was dull and somber. The real, exciting life of the court revolved around the King and his favorite at Durham House. Jane feared that it would not be long before England had a new queen.

  * * *

  —

  The King kept Christmas at Greenwich, laying on jousts, banquets, masques and disguisings for the court’s entertainment. But Jane could not take pleasure in the festivities when the Queen showed no joy, and it was plain in her face how troubled she was. Katherine’s only comfort was in the company of her daughter, the Princess Mary, who had come to court for the Yuletide season.

  Jane was one of those whom Katherine asked to keep watch over Mary, and she was touched by the trust her mistress reposed in her. She was much taken with the Princess, a sweet, loving child of twelve, with her father’s red-gold hair and her mother’s features. Yet already those features were clouded by anxiety. For all that she had been away from court, Mary was aware of the tensions between her parents, and of the unseen presence of Anne Boleyn, who was keeping to her apartments but making all welcome. Even as they played Hoodman Blind, Fox and Hounds and ninepins, Jane saw that the Princess was a very unhappy girl indeed. She clung to her mother the Queen, and was reserved to the point of sullenness with her father, even though he tried his best to make merry with her. God grant that the King’s Great Matter would be decided soon, Jane prayed, if only for the sake of this poor child.

  Chapter 7

  1529

  A court had been convened in the monastery of the Black Friars in London. Cardinal Wolsey and the Papal legate were to preside and hear the King’s nullity suit. It was no secret that his Grace was hoping for great things. It was even being said that he was planning his wedding to Anne Boleyn.

  Queen Katherine stood in her lawn smock as her ladies and maids clustered around her, attiring her in a kirtle of yellow brocade. Lady Willoughby and Margery Horsman entered her chamber, carrying the sumptuous gown of crimson velvet edged with sable, fitting it on her and lacing it up at the back. Nan Stanhope brought the fur oversleeves, while Jane fastened a gold pomander around the Queen’s waist. Finally Lady Exeter hung the rich collar winking with gems around Katherine’s neck, and the Vargas sisters placed a hood lavishly adorned with goldsmiths’ work on her head. Beneath it, her face was pale and lined with care, but she looked every inch a queen.

  “Now I am girded for battle,” she observed, attempting a smile. “They must understand that I do not recognize this court they have set up. I can hope for no fair trial of my marriage in England. The King’s case must be heard in Rome!”

  Jane was impressed by her courage. It was no mean thing to stand up to the King, whose rages these days could be terrifying.

  The Queen was ready now, as were the four ladies who were to attend her. Jane and the other maids were to stay behind in Bridewell Palace and await her return.

  Dorothy Badby burst through the door. “Your Grace, there are crowds outside the Black Friars, all shouting for good Queen Katherine and wishing you victory over your enemies.”

  Katherine’s eyes clouded. “The King will not be pleased. But he values the love of the people; he must heed them and come to his senses.”

  She had been saying that for as long as Jane could recall. “Let us go,” the Queen said.

  * * *

  —

  It was quiet in the vast ornate rooms of the palace. Jane and the others tried to busy themselves, but they were all wondering what was happening in the great hall of the monastery on the other side of the River Fleet, and were alert for any sound that heralded the return of their mistress.

  “Imagine, an English king and queen summoned to appear in a court!” Isabel reflected. “It would never happen in Spain!”

  “I cannot believe that this Great Matter has now dragged on for two years,” Bess Chambers said, shaking her head.

  “How much longer can the Queen stand it?” Jane asked, her heart grieving for Katherine.

  “Hopefully it will soon be resolved,” Nan Stanhope said. “I did not come to court to lead such a dull life. We go nowhere; we do nothing; we’re shut away with the Queen like nuns.”

  “Would you rather serve Mistress Anne, then?” Bess asked sharply.

  “If I had a choice, yes. She is queen in all but name, and everything revolves around her. Katherine’s day is done.”

  Blanche de Vargas grimaced in distaste. “You might be singing a different tune before this day is out!”

  “How can you be so dismissive of a loving mistress?” Dorothy asked.

  Nan shrugged. “How are we to find husbands or gain preferment if the Queen has no influence? She’s supposed to help us make good marriages, but in all the years I’ve been here, she’s done nothing for me. I’ve had several suitors, but nothing has come of it. I’m nearly thirty, and I’m sick of waiting.”

  “Some of us have devoted our lives to the Queen,” Isabel de Vargas said. “We did not look for anything else.”

  “Well, I do!” Nan snapped. “If things go against the Queen, I shall write to my father and insist that he make suit to Mistress Anne for a place for me. And if he will not, I shall do it myself!”

  Blanche flared. “None of us would so lower ourselves! There can be only one queen in England, and I for one will never recognize any other than our good mistress. And I think I speak for us all.”

  Everyone, apart from Nan, fervently agreed.

  “I could never serve Anne Boleyn,” Jane declared. “I hate her and everything she stands for. Any woman who sets out to steal another’s husband, let alone the husband of her mistress, is beyond redemption.”

  “But the King says h
e is not the Queen’s husband, and that the Pope was wrong to allow their marriage,” Nan was pleased to point out, “and Mistress Anne is of the same opinion, so how can she be stealing another woman’s husband?”

  “The King was married to her Grace for eighteen years without complaint,” Blanche cried, “and then he fell in love with Anne Boleyn, and suddenly his conscience is troubling him!”

  “He needs an heir, and that she cannot give him!” Nan countered. “He may well be right to see in that the judgment of God.”

  “If the King has doubts, it is best that he seeks reassurance from the Pope,” Jane said. “But until his Holiness pronounces him a free man, Mistress Anne has no business to be encouraging his addresses.”

  “Wake up, little innocent!” sneered Nan. “The King loves her inordinately and wants to make her queen. She comes from an ambitious family for whom preferment is all. Do you really think she is going to pass up such an opportunity? I wouldn’t!”

  Jane reined in a rare flare of temper. “It is not a question of ambition, nor opportunity, nor what she and her family want. What she is doing is morally wrong. Even Martin Luther himself would not condone it.”

  Nan was just about to deliver a tart reply when Bess Chambers looked up from her embroidery. “I don’t think that Mistress Anne is encouraging the King at all. Look at all those times she’s taken herself off home to Hever and stayed there. She’s there now.”

  “She is playing a clever game,” Isabel sniffed. “The King is mad for her, so she keeps her distance to inflame his ardor the more.”

  “I think she went to Hever last year to bear his bastard,” Blanche opined.

  “That would not surprise me,” her sister said.

  “On the contrary, the word is that she is holding out for marriage,” Margery countered.

  “What will happen to us if the Queen is set aside and the King does marry her?” Dorothy fretted.

  “I would go home rather than enter Anne Boleyn’s service,” Jane said.

  “I am sure that the King will see the Queen well provided for and served,” Bess tried to reassure them. “We’d be retained.”

  “Oh, I do wish I knew what was happening! It’s hard to settle to anything.” Margery sighed.

  They sat there in silence, heads bent over the altar cloth and frontal on which they were working, listening to the chimes of the clock, the song of the birds in the trees outside the open window, and the sound of their own breathing. Presently they heard distant shouts and cheers, and stared at each other.

  “The sentence must have gone in the Queen’s favor,” Margery whispered. “They would not cheer so if she was to be repudiated.”

  Soon came the tramp of footsteps in the gallery, and then the door was opened and in came the Queen, leaning on the arm of Master Richards, her receiver general, with her ladies behind her. She sank into her chair, her face drained of color, her breathing heavy.

  “Quick, fetch wine and something to eat!” Lady Willoughby ordered, as the maids rose from their curtsey. “Jane, bring her Grace’s slippers.”

  When Katherine was settled, sipping from her goblet and looking somewhat restored, they all clustered round, eager to hear what had happened.

  “Have they declared for you, Madam?” Blanche asked, forgetting that the Queen should speak first. “We heard the cheering.”

  Katherine smiled faintly. “No, my dear. They have declared nothing at all. But I did what I went there to do. I said that it was no impartial court to me, and that I would not attend it.” She rested her head back against the chair. Clearly the effort had been great.

  “Her Grace was magnificent!” Lady Exeter said. “When she was summoned, she fell on her knees before the King, in front of that crowded assembly, and begged him to spare her the extremity of the court, and she made so many heartfelt pleas to him that we were all near to tears.”

  “And did he respond, Madam?” Bess asked.

  There was a prolonged pause. When Katherine spoke, her voice was broken. “No. He said nothing at all. He would not even look at me.”

  * * *

  —

  In the third week of July, to Jane’s surprise and pleasure, Edward appeared in the Queen’s chamber at one of the afternoon gatherings that had used to be so crowded but were now far less frequented, for most ambitious young men had abandoned Katherine’s staid court for the grand lodging of Mistress Anne. But here was Edward, bowing courteously to the Queen, and looking very tall and elegant in his fine black clothes, with his red beard trimmed to a point and a feather in his black cap. There was about him, still, that new reserve and proud demeanor that Jane had noticed at Wulfhall the previous autumn, but he greeted her kindly, and gave her the glad news that he had been appointed Esquire of the Body to the King, thanks to the recommendation of Sir Francis Bryan.

  “We owe him so much,” Jane said, as they sat down in a window embrasure.

  “He is our kinsman,” Edward replied, “and I think he likes us for ourselves. I must confess I did wonder if he would ask for your hand. He is not married, and it would be a good match.”

  Jane recalled Bryan’s bold advances. “There was a time when he showed an interest in me, but you had warned me of his reputation with the ladies, and I put him off. Later, on that long ride from Waltham, I got to know him much better—as a friend, you understand—and I saw that there was more to him than the name Vicar of Hell leads people to believe. But I do not think he is the marrying kind.”

  “I might sound him out on that point,” Edward said. “From now on, serving in the privy chamber, I will see him every day.”

  “Please don’t do so on my behalf, or mention my name,” Jane insisted.

  Edward raised his eyebrows. “Why not? Marriages are brokered all the time. Mine was.” His voice was bitter.

  “Just don’t say my name,” Jane pleaded. “Let that come from him—although I doubt it will. And Edward, I am not sure if I want him for a husband.”

  “You could do a lot worse; at least you like each other. But I’m not sure if we can afford him. Father has money set aside for dowries for all you girls, but there are three of you, and Sir Francis told Thomas at Wulfhall last year that he was hoping to find a rich bride.”

  Jane was taken aback. “You don’t think that was a subtle way of finding out if I was a rich bride?”

  “Well, Father had asked him if he was ready to settle down yet. It was all light banter. But he and Thomas thought you might have been the object of the exchange, even though your name was not mentioned.”

  “I would have liked to be consulted before they broached the matter!”

  Edward shrugged. “I’m sure you would have been, had they agreed anything.”

  “And it sounds as if Sir Francis was putting Father off.”

  “Jane, you are making too much of this.”

  “Possibly,” she countered. “And don’t think I am disappointed. I like Sir Francis, but I do not love him.”

  * * *

  —

  The next day, as Jane was returning to the palace, having seized the opportunity for a quiet walk in the gardens, she looked up and saw Edward hurrying across the covered bridge that spanned the River Fleet and linked Bridewell Palace with the Black Friars’ monastery. He noticed her and waved. Men were crowding behind him, making for the court. When he caught up with her, he was breathless with excitement. “The legate has revoked the King’s case to Rome. The Pope himself will pass judgment.”

  “Thank God!” she breathed. “Now the Queen has a fair chance of a just sentence.”

  “The King is furious. You should have seen his face!”

  “I’d like to see Mistress Anne’s! She was very confident that the crown would be hers. Oh, Edward, this is encouraging news. God may yet lead the King to see the error of his ways.”

  “It will
curb Mistress Anne’s ambitions,” her brother said, taking her arm and steering her away from the advancing crowds of courtiers. “Only this morning she was in the King’s privy chamber, telling us all what would happen when she became queen. She will have the Bible made into English, for a start. By God, she is hot for reform of the Church! She was scathing about the Pope—and Cardinal Wolsey.”

  “She is very determined—and she is leading the King to perdition,” Jane murmured, “and if she has her head, we’ll all go down with him. It frightens me. Must we lose our immortal souls for a light woman and her dangerous ideas?”

  Edward smiled at her. “Do not be so disheartened, sister. Reform of the Church can only be a good thing. There are abuses that need to be corrected. I for one would like to see the sale of indulgences by priests stopped. Why should the rich be able to buy their way into Heaven? And why should we not read the word of God in our mother tongue? These things cannot endanger our souls.”

  “But it is the priests who are ordained to interpret the Scriptures for us.”

  “Jane, not all priests are as devout as Father James, and some are barely literate. How shall they interpret the Latin Scriptures for their flock? No, I want to see the Church reformed, as it should be.”

  Jane was suddenly aware of someone watching them. She looked up. It was Nan Stanhope, who was regarding Edward with undisguised interest.

  “This is a serious conversation to be having with such a handsome suitor,” she said lightly.

  “He is not my suitor!” Jane exclaimed. “Mistress Nan Stanhope, may I present my oldest brother, Sir Edward Seymour. He has just been appointed Esquire of the Body to the King.”

  Edward bowed. When he raised his head, Jane saw him looking at Nan as if she were an object of wonder, and his eyes, so cold of late, were warm.