A/N - Yep, I'm still alive. Yep, still writing. I was without a computer for sometime but now I have one again so I can write again, yay! Updates for Back to the Beginning and Definition of Love will be up within the next couple of weeks, so keep an eye out. I added something to try and break up the scenes to make it easier to differentiate scene changes. Read, review, enjoy. ~ Rainia
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Much to their mutual dismay, Suffolk was the one to escort her to one of Henry's London residences by cover of darkness. "This is where you will stay until his Majesty is satisfied it is safe for you to return to court," he said stiffly, gesturing to the small but well taken care of house. "If there is aught you might need-"
"How did you come to know about this place?" she cut him off, turning to face him, the first words she'd spoken since they'd left the Tower. He at least had the grace to look vaguely uncomfortable and even without his answer, Anne knew. "Forget it," she ground out, resisting the urge to slap him. So he was the one facilitating Henry's affairs, she knew it! "You were saying?"
Clearing his throat, Charles shifted slightly before continuning,"As I was saying, Your Majesty, if there is aught you need, simply tell your steward and he will see that it is taken care of. I will take my leave now, with your permission."
"Granted," Anne agreed, more than ready to see the back of him. He bowed over her extended hand and swiftly turned on his heel and left. The sound of a throat clearing caught her attention, which caused her to turn her gaze on the smartly dressed gentleman that had been appointed as steward.
The man bowed, lowering his gaze respectfully. "Your Majesty, you must be exhausted from your ordeal. Please, follow me and I will show you to your rooms. I will have a maid up to assist you shortly."
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Cromwell was not a stupid man. Well, at least he used to think that of himself. The king had the entire Seymour family locked in their quarters and a voice inside whispered how it was all his fault. He'd never meant to seduce the girl, it had just sort of... happened. Henry hadn't yet laid eyes on Mistress Seymour when they'd met and began their dalliance. When his attention had turned on Jane, Cromwell had tried to walk away. He did, truly he did, he told himself as he quickened his pace. She'd agreed, the prospect of being Queen obviously being much more appealing than being the wife of a mere chancellor.
And yet somehow, they'd fallen into bed together again. He swore he could almost still feel her pert breasts pressed against him as he moved within her. Now he was being summoned before the king and wondered briefly if he would even survive this meeting. Henry was a jealous man, after all, and would not stand to think that the woman he would have as his queen after Anne was sullied goods. How on earth was he going to get himself out of this alive?
Heart pounding in his chest, the groom outside Henry's presence chamber announced him and entry was swiftly granted. Henry sat in a heavily cushioned chair, his bad leg propped up on a small footstool beneath a great mahogany desk. "Master Cromwell, good, just the man I wanted to see."
Schooling his features carefully, Thomas bowed low with a murmured, "Your Majesty. How may I serve?"
With a slight grimace as his leg gave a painful throb, Henry spoke. "I have recently come upon some disturbing information, Master Cromwell. Not only does it seem that my dear Jane is not who I thought she was, but it also seems likely that perhaps someone poisoned the Queen in order to cause her to miscarry. I want you to find out who is responsible for the death of my son."
Many years at court had taught Cromwell all too well how to hide his feelings and he fervently thanked God for that. So Jane hadn't spilled their secret! He felt nearly giddy with relief. Then the reality of what the king had just said began to sink in. "Yes, your Majesty, of course. I will see to it at once. May I, ah, ask your Majesty, what it is that Mistress Seymour has done to earn your disfavor?" He queried, genuinely curious.
Henry laughed bitterly in both disgust and pain. "It seems she has a lover," he ground out as his leg gave another painful throb, "I went to call on her in her chambers, to tell her of Anne's arrest and heard them in flagrante delicto." Glaring at his leg, remembering how he'd worn her favors the day he'd been felled from his horse during the joust, he failed to see Cromwell pale.
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Sir John Seymour ran a hand down his face in quiet contemplation. They had been so close, so close! As soon as Queen Anne had been arrested, he'd known it was only a matter of time before the king came to him for Jane's hand. Henry had obviously been smitten over her, only seeing her when she had a proper chaperone in the form of Sir John himself or his sons. He'd even worn Janie's favors that now fateful day that had been the turning point in his pursuit of Jane. Now, it seemed, it was all for naught.
Darkness had fell sometime ago and he stared into the flames of the fireplace, wondering idly if that was to be his fate in the afterlife. He'd been the one to plant the seed for Edward's vile act, afterall. They'd all known that if the babe the Queen carried was a boy that her position would be forever secure, provided the child was healthy and thrived. It was clear that the king already suspected them. Why keep them to their chambers otherwise? Word had reached him that Jane was also confined to her quarters as well. What else could it possibly be? His sweet Jane was a virtuous girl, unlike some of the other well-bred ladies of court. There was no other reason for the confinement of the entire family. Was there?