Welcome to new reviewers Rowan Rosethorne, C., appirates and martine.
C. – Interesting idea but I'm afraid that Katherine won't be having a child, of either sex; she could get into a lot of trouble if she did, given that Henry is refusing to share her bed. I think he might have some questions about where Junior came from...
With regard to the theft of "On The Edge Of A Golden World", I have some good news. While the person who decided to swipe it and claim credit for it has yet to contact me with either an explanation or an apology (frankly, I'm not going to hold my breath on that count) the moderators at Quizilla have removed the story from their site.
I'd like to thank everybody who sent me PMs and reviews in support, and those who complained on Quizilla. It was so encouraging to see everybody rally around like that. Thank you.
Chapter Thirteen
26th May 1530
Lady Bryan, governess to the infant Prince of Wales, curtsied deeply when she reached the threshold of the Princess Consort's apartments, carefully balancing baby Arthur in her arms. "Your Majesty, I have brought His Highness the Prince to say goodbye." She said kindly, knowing how difficult it must be for a new mother to have to say goodbye to her child and allow him to be turned over to the care of others. Even if the mother was a royal consort, mother of a Prince, it would still have to be painful for her to bid her child farewell, knowing that she wouldn't be able to see him except on the rare occasions when she could get away from the palace. She passed Arthur into Anne's arms, curtseying a second time when Henry entered the room through the door leading from the gallery connecting their apartments. "Your Majesty." She greeted him.
"Lady Bryan." Henry nodded in response, moving to Anne's side and putting one arm around her, cupping Arthur's tiny head with his free hand and smiling as his son turned his head slightly to look up at him with curious eyes. "Are you alright, sweetheart?" He asked Anne gently, kissing the top of her head. Mary had been brought to his apartment to bid him farewell, kneeling to receive her father's blessing before she made her way to her mother's apartments to say goodbye to her, then down to the courtyard, where the carriages awaited the two children and their attendants. He had hastened to Anne's rooms as soon as his daughter left, wanting to say goodbye to his son and knowing that his wife was sure to need him there with her when their son's governess carried him away. "Lady Bryan is going to take wonderful care of Arthur – aren't you, Lady Bryan?"
"Of course, Your Majesty." Lady Bryan was all but glowing with pride at being entrusted with the care of the infant heir to the throne and was determined that she would do the finest job of looking after Arthur and running his household that anybody possibly could. She would guard his health zealously and, when the time came, she would give him his first lessons, ensuring that by the time he was six years old, old enough for his education to be given over to the charge of a tutor, he would already be well-grounded in the basic lessons a well-born child must learn.
Neither the King nor the Princess Consort would ever have the slightest cause for complaint about the care she gave their child. Instead, she would give them every reason to be thankful to her, and to richly reward her for her good service to them and to the little Prince. When the little Prince was older, he would remember the governess of his childhood fondly, and seek to reward her for the care and devotion she had shown him during his earliest years, and to favour her family.
This was her chance and she would not waste it.
"Thank you, Lady Bryan." Anne said, kissing Arthur's tiny cheeks and biting her lip to keep tears from flowing as her son gripped her finger in one plump hand. "You be a good boy for Lady Bryan, my precious boy." She told him, her voice choking. Arthur regarded with curious, almost troubled eyes, as though he could see that she was distressed and was concerned about it but unable to understand why she should be upset.
"Goodbye, my son." Henry told the baby, kissing him again before beckoning for Lady Bryan to take Arthur again. Anne didn't place the baby into his governess' arms, tightening her grasp on him and shaking her head. "Sweetheart, it's time for Arthur to set off." He said gently, thinking that it would be better for Anne if they didn't drag out the goodbyes too long, especially when she was already distressed at the prospect of separation. She shook her head again, more vehemently this time, tears shining in her blue eyes and he sighed, hugging her to him. "Alright, sweetheart, we'll go down with him if that's what you want." He said, indicating that Lady Bryan should follow them down while Anne carried Arthur.
If it made it easier for Anne to carry their son down herself, Henry knew that he would never have the heart to refuse her that consolation, even if it was more fitting for Lady Bryan to do it.
Katherine and Mary were already down in the courtyard, with Katherine holding Mary's two hands in hers and saying something to her that Anne and Henry couldn't hear. Katherine straightened when she saw them approach, nodding at Henry. "Your Majesty." She greeted him calmly but in a cool voice. Had she believed that she had any chance of persuading him to change his mind about sending Mary away, she would have remonstrated with Henry, even here, in the presence of others, including Anne, but she knew that it would do no good.
She had tried already, to no avail.
Henry had not even done her the courtesy of coming to her himself to let her know that he intended to send their daughter away, choosing to leave the task of bringing her the news to Cardinal Wolsey, the same man charged with telling her that Mary was to be sent away to Ludlow Castle when the little Duke of Richmond was granted his own household but Katherine had gone straight to Henry's private chambers when she was told the news, to confront her husband directly and to appeal to him to allow Mary to remain with them – or, if he had to send their dear child to a residence separate from theirs, to establish a household for her in one of the London palaces at his disposal instead, so that they might keep her close to them.
Wolsey had turned Hampton Court over to Henry years ago, something that had delighted Henry, who greatly admired the palace, deeming it to be finer than any he possessed – though Katherine imagined that Wolsey was far from delighted to part with the palace that was known to be his pride and joy. Katherine believed that the palace Wolsey had built, sparing no expense in terms of its construction, decoration or furnishing, would be a worthy residence for her beloved daughter, one befitting the King of England's eldest child, but Henry dismissed her suggestion that Mary might have her establishment there instead of at Hatfield as soon as she made it, insisting that Hatfield was the most fitting place for their daughter to be sent and making it clear that he was not willing to consider any alternative residence, regardless of her pleas.
Mary's presence was the only source of consolation Katherine had for the fact that Henry had taken Anne as his second wife as, but for that, her daughter would still be far away at Ludlow, as befitted the heiress to the throne, but now even that consolation was to be snatched away from her, and on the orders of her husband, the father of the child being exiled to the country.
She had not wanted to believe that Henry would be willing to do this to her, after everything else that had happened, when he must surely know how much pain it would cause her to lose Mary and, worse still, how much it would hurt Mary to know that her father no longer wished to allow her to reside under the same roof as her parents.
Henry had not listened to her pleas, nor was he moved by them. He was merely impatient when she came before him to ask him to reconsider his plans for Mary, displeased that she had entered his chambers uninvited – though he surely knew as well as she did that if she had waited for an invitation, she would never have seen him. He never sent for her these days, nor did he ever pay her a visit in her own apartments and it was very rare that she received any kind of message from him, unless he was sending a note to thank her for the shirts she still sewed for him.
One by one, he was severing his ties to her and did not seem to even regret doing so.
Although, for a short, happy time after Arthur's birth, it seemed as though Henry would treat her in a more friendly manner, spending more time with her and with Mary, and speaking with her as he used to, that had lasted only until Anne was strong enough to rise from her bed, after which Henry had spent every spare hour with her, even before she was churched, fawning over Anne and over their new little son, showering them both with gifts, and never going near Katherine or Mary.
It was though he wanted to make it plain to all of the court that Anne and Arthur were his family now, not his first wife and not even his daughter by her.
Ambassador Mendoza had theorized that Anne had been warned to take care to ensure that she did not allow Henry's attentions to stray from her, for fear that she would lose a large measure of the influence she currently wielded if they did, and that she was doing her utmost to ensure that Henry spent so much time with her and with Arthur that he did not have a moment to spare for anybody else, least of all his first wife and daughter. Katherine wasn't certain whether or not she believed this to be the case – surely Anne knew by now that she didn't need to worry about her position in Henry's heart being threatened – but whatever the reason for it, the effect was the same. Henry didn't want his first wife to come near him.
When Katherine came to speak to him, it was plain that he didn't want to see her.
"I have made my decision, madam." His voice was icy as he addressed her, and he pointedly refused to meet her eyes. He kept his gaze directed at the pile of papers in front of him and he continued to peruse them, making it clear that she was interrupting and that he considered that he had more important things to do than speak to her, even when the subject was the future of their own darling daughter. "It is my wish that Mary will travel to Hatfield with Lady Salisbury and with her household and reside there for the foreseeable future."
It took a great effort on Katherine's part to keep a pleasant smile on her face and to keep the anger from her tone as she spoke. Arguing with Henry would accomplish nothing but perhaps there was a chance that she might be able to persuade him if she reasoned with him. "Mary is doing so well here, Henry," she said calmly. She would have liked to refer to him as 'husband' but she knew that he would be angry if she did, and that he wouldn't listen to a word she had to say. "She is progressing well with her lessons and she loves being at court with us, and I know that she loves being close to you." She added persuasively, in the hopes that the thought of his daughter's adoration might soften him. "And she is growing up so quickly; she's not a little girl anymore, she's growing into a young woman now, a lovely and accomplished young woman. Don't you think that her place is at court, where she can be presented to envoys from other monarchs?"
With less than two years to go before Mary's marriage to the Duke of Orleans was due to take place, Katherine knew that she did not have much time if she wanted to encourage another match, one that would not involve her beloved daughter marrying into the Valois family or being sent to join the licentious French court. God knew what might happen to her there! It was certainly not a place that Katherine would wish to see her daughter live.
It was vital that Mary should be at court, to remind visiting ambassadors of the existence of a Princess of England of marriageable age, if they wanted to find another match for her, a better one than the one that was arranged for her at present, as the Duke of Orleans was only a second son, one who would never sit on the French throne as long as his brother lived.
Henry scowled at her in response to her plea. "I have said that I wish for Mary to go to Hatfield." He repeated slowly. "Did you not hear me, madam? Mary will travel to Hatfield with the Prince, to share his household, as I have ordered. I will not discuss the issue any further with you."
Wolsey hadn't mentioned Arthur at all when he brought her the news that Mary was to be taken from her once more, much less told her that the two children were to share a household from now on. Katherine had never imagined that this would be the case; Mary was twelve years Arthur's senior, and could not share his nursery any more than he could share her tutors and lessons. It was unnecessary and, in some ways, impractical for the two children to share a household and Katherine felt irritated when she heard that this was what Henry intended.
Why, after two years of having their daughter living with them, had Henry decided that he now wished for Mary to be sent away? Was he afraid that Anne might feel threatened or put out if he sent their son away while allowing Mary to remain at court? If he did want Mary to leave court, why did she have to share an establishment with her baby half-brother?
If Mary was to be sent away from court once more, then the very least she deserved was to be supplied with a household and royal residence of her own, instead of having to share one with a baby. Arthur was the Prince of Wales so, even if Hatfield was officially the shared household of the royal children, it would be Arthur's household in everything but name, and the infant would be the highest-ranking person there, the nominal head of the household, outranking his elder sister, the girl who was heir to the throne for twelve years before he was born.
Any visitors coming to see Mary would even be required to pay their respects to baby Arthur first, before they might visit his sister.
Even the household attendants who were stowing the children's belongings on wagons so that they could be safely conveyed to Hatfield wore the blue and green livery of the Prince of Wales, the livery that Mary's household had worn when they accompanied her to Ludlow Castle when she was still called Princess of Wales. Mary's personal retinue, a smaller one by far than the one that had attended her at Ludlow, stood out from the members of Arthur's household, as they wore the black livery of Henry's household, emblazoned with the red and white Tudor rose.
Officially, they were Henry's servants, not hers.
Outside the gates of Whitehall, a crowd of people had gathered to watch, eager to see the procession and to cheer the two royal children as they set off. Katherine knew that it would be plain to all of them that little Arthur enjoyed higher status than Mary, as was undoubtedly Henry's intention when this procession was arranged.
Under no circumstances would he be prepared to allow anybody to entertain even a slight shadow of a doubt about the respective positions of his son and daughter.
His son was first, and he wanted everybody to know it.
Katherine had said her goodbyes to Mary as a mother to her daughter already, in the privacy of her apartment. Now it was time for her to formally bid farewell to her as Queen to Princess. Although it pained her to have to preserve a measure of distance around her beloved child, Katherine had been too well schooled in the duties of royalty to allow herself to betray her weakness before others, particularly when the common people were watching her movements, expecting to see their Queen behave with the same dignity and grace that had characterized her public behaviour since the day she arrived in England, so many years ago, as Arthur's bride.
Embraces were something that took place privately, away from prying eyes, and any tears to be shed were shed when she was alone, without even the company of one of her ladies. Before others, she must always appear to be the Queen they expected her to be, calm and dignified at all times, keeping her emotions concealed beneath a mantle of royalty. Even Mary, at twelve, had learned that lesson well enough to ensure that the tears shining in her eyes remained unshed and she was even able to smile slightly as she waved to the people who called out her name, knowing that they wanted to see their lovely young Princess, not a weeping girl.
However, it seemed that Anne had never learned that level of self-control.
She cradled Arthur in her arms for several minutes, kissing her son over and over and speaking softly to him, allowing her to catch one of her fingers in his tiny hand and clutch it tightly. Henry was by her side, one arm wrapped around her shoulders in a protective gesture as he leaned closer to her ear, whispering something to her. Katherine could imagine that he was trying to coax Anne into relinquishing Arthur to his Lady Governess, who was waiting patiently for her tiny charge to be turned over to her arms so that she might get him settled in the carriage before they set off.
Anne finally nodded, allowing Lady Bryan to lift Arthur from her arms and choking back a sob as she did so. Tears trickled down her cheeks and, at the sight of them, Henry tugged her into his embrace, holding her close to him and gently wiping away the tears, murmuring soothing words that seemed to prompt Anne to weep more openly rather than to make an effort to control herself. It was as if she was either unaware of the fact that others were present, watching her, or that she knew they were there but cared nothing about what they thought of her.
Alarmed by his mother's distress, Arthur began to wail, his tiny, chubby arms flailing as he wriggled in his governess' arms, anxious for his mother to take him in her arms once more and for his little world to be set to rights. At a nod from Henry, Lady Bryan whisked him away, doing her best to console the baby boy as she bore him towards his carriage.
"It's alright, sweetheart, we'll see him soon, I promise." Katherine didn't want to hear what Henry was saying to Anne, both because she knew that his words were not meant for her ears and because it pained her to hear her husband speaking so tenderly to another woman, especially when he knew that she and Mary were standing there watching him and clearly did not care how they might feel to hear the love in his voice as he spoke to Anne, to know that he would not be looking in their direction with the same love or concern.
Did he even remember how much he used to love Katherine, or how many happy years they had spent together as man and wife before he saw Anne and desired her so much that he was willing to cast aside his wife of many years and brand his only living child a bastard if it meant that he could have her?
If he remembered, did he care?
Mary's eyes were dark with disapproval as she watched Anne, undoubtedly scornful that an adult, a royal consort, should so forget herself as to display her emotions in a manner that she had been taught was inappropriate for a member of the royal family, at least in the presence of others, since she was a small child… or perhaps there was a part of her that envied Anne, who was able to break the rules and who was petted and consoled when she did so rather than chided and reminded that she should control herself. She was still a young girl, one who craved her father's affection. Perhaps she wished that she was the one Henry was hugging.
Katherine was uncomfortably conscious of the fact that there was a part of her that found the idea of weeping, even here in front of hundreds of people, courtiers, commoners and members of the children's households alike, appealing in a way and that she would have liked to be the one to feel Henry's arms around her and to hear him whispering consoling words in her ear.
She was losing Mary, just as Anne was losing Arthur but Henry only cared about Anne's pain.
When Arthur was born, Margaret had remarked that it was sensible of Anne to sleep through the excitement of the first day of her son's life, sparing herself the strain of having to receive a horde of well wishers. Perhaps the same could be said for the freedom she allowed herself to reveal her emotions, even in public. Perhaps she was right not to strive to hide them.
Katherine could hear murmurs of sympathy from the watching crowd and imagined that some of the women watching, mothers who were easily able to imagine how they might feel if they were obliged to part with their own babies, were watching Anne now, feeling pity for her and thinking that it was a shame that she and her son were to be parted so soon, when Arthur was just a little baby who needed his mother's company and care, and that they were pleased to see that Henry was fussing over her and soothing her, pleased that she had her husband's love to comfort her.
More and more eyes seemed to be drawn to Henry and to Anne than to Katherine and Mary.
Katherine laid a gentle hand on Mary's shoulder, giving her an encouraging smile. "Lady Salisbury is ready to bring you to your carriage, dearest." She said quietly, seeing her daughter's governess waiting a few paces away. With Arthur already in his carriage with Lady Bryan and with the baggage already packed and the household assembled, they only needed to wait for Mary to climb into her carriage before they could set off. She bent down slightly, kissing her daughter ceremoniously on both cheeks before whispering, too softly for anybody but Mary to hear her words. "Always remember who you are. You are the descendant of Ferdinand and Isabella, and the daughter of the King of England. Be strong."
It was almost the same thing that she had said nearly three years ago, to give Mary courage when she first set off for Ludlow Castle as a little girl of nine, one who was frightened by the prospect of leaving the palace that had been her home all of her short life and upset at the thought of being separated from her mother, especially when she knew that Ludlow Castle was so far away from London that they would not be able to visit one another except on rare occasions, though she tried to be brave and to hide her feelings but Katherine's words were slightly different this time.
This time, she couldn't promise Mary that she would be Queen one day.
To do so could be construed as an act of treason, or as an indication that she intended to harm baby Arthur, something she would never so much as consider doing. As much as she would have wished that Mary could have remained her father's heiress, as fervently as she believed that England would be better served if it was ruled by the granddaughter of the great Isabella and Ferdinand than it could be if a son of Anne's sat on the throne in Mary's place, she would never have tried to harm Arthur, not even if by doing so she could win the English throne for Mary.
Mary nodded gravely in response to her words, curtseying to her mother before allowing Lady Salisbury to guide her towards the carriage. There were two carriages in the courtyard, both of them decorated with the royal coat of arms and the Tudor rose, but the one Mary was led towards was the second one. As Prince of Wales, Arthur's carriage would precede hers.
He was the heir to the throne and it was therefore his right to go first, always.
Once Mary had been helped into her carriage, with Lady Salisbury climbing in after her, the gentleman chosen to act as baby Arthur's chamberlain strode through the courtyard, armed with a long list of people and baggage to be accounted for, and checked the final few items off his list. Once his inventory was complete, he nodded in Henry's direction, indicating that all was in order and that the procession might set off at his command.
Henry, absorbed with consoling a tearful Anne, merely nodded in return, granted his permission for the procession to set off. With one arm still around Anne, he waved at Arthur's carriage as it set off, blowing a kiss. Once the carriages had left the courtyard, and the servants and baggage followed in their wake, he began to guide Anne back in the direction of the palace, leaning closer to her to whisper soothing promises that they would visit Arthur soon.
"We'll give him a couple of weeks to get settled in, then we'll travel to Hatfield to see him – we can even stay overnight if you'd like to spend longer there with him," he added, thinking that even if it was an inconvenience for the servants in the children's establishment to have to ready the country palace to receive and entertain the King and Princess Consort in the manner their rank demanded, especially when they would have had only a short time to get Arthur and Mary settled there, they would simply have to deal with that if Anne wanted to spend the night there.
The skin on the back of his neck prickled, warning him that somebody was watching him and he looked behind him to see Katherine's gaze upon him and upon Anne, a faintly disapproving expression on her face. He could guess that if she spoke to him, she would make some remark about how Anne needed to learn to conceal her emotions in public, as royalty did and he felt a surge of anger towards her for the words he imagined that she might speak. He scowled at her, an unspoken warning that he would not allow her to voice any word of reproach about Anne.
Katherine had no right to criticize Anne in any way!
It was natural that Anne would be upset to see Arthur set off on his journey to Hatfield, even if she would come to understand, in time, that it was for the best that their son had his own establishment, even at his tender age. Katherine might be able to veil her feelings, even at a time like this, but that did not mean that Anne had to emulate her or that he expected her to.
If Anne was upset, he would comfort her and to Hell with protocol!
Wolsey had advised that, as Anne was certain to be distressed at the thought of being separated from Arthur, it would be wise to arrange some cheerful distractions for her to take her mind off Arthur, suggesting that Henry should spend time hunting with her, and at other outdoor pursuits during the day, with dancing, games and entertainments in the evenings. During the first weeks following Arthur's departure, he would need to take special care of Anne.
Henry had every intention of following the cardinal's recommendation and he enumerated the amusements he had planned for her to Anne, feeling delighted when she responded to his gentle words with a small smile, brushing tears away from her eyes and making an effort to cheer up. She was upset now but he was sure that would pass, in time, and once they went to Hatfield and Anne could see for herself that their son was safe, happy and well cared for, she would know that she had no reason to worry about Arthur's welfare.
Everything would be fine and, although it pained Henry to have to part with his son, he also couldn't deny that he was also pleased that he had Anne to himself once more.
He didn't like sharing her, not even with their son.
1st June 1530
Brandon had never thought that a time would come when he would find hunting or archery tedious but it had happened.
In the six days since little Prince Arthur had left the court for his own household, Henry had organized hunts almost every morning, with archery or games of bowls in the afternoon and lavish entertainments in the evenings. Brandon and several other favoured nobles, including Anne's brother, were included in the activities but Brandon was beginning to wish that he had either returned to his manor in Suffolk when Margaret did or that even that Henry had neglected to include him in the party, even though that would have been a mark of disfavour, one that would have half of the court whispering about whether the Duke of Suffolk was in disgrace.
Anything would be preferable to this.
During the days of their youth, he had loved nothing more than to ride out with his friend. While Henry's father was King and Henry was heir to the throne, the young Prince of Wales was kept under a tight rein by a father who had already lost one son and who was therefore doubly careful of his sole remaining heir, forbidding strenuous or dangerous activities for fear that an accident could rob him of his son and the fledgling Tudor dynasty of its future. However, once the old King had died, the new, young King had relished his newfound freedom and delighted in spending the whole day in the saddle, leaving the affairs of state in Wolsey's hands.
In those days, Brandon was only too happy to join Henry on his expeditions, enjoying the feeling of being young, free and favoured by Fortune.
Now, however, it was different.
The current expeditions revolved entirely around Anne, with Henry determined to cheer her up and to distract her so that she did not pine for her child. If Anne seemed to be enjoying herself when they rode and hunted, Henry would keep them out for half of the day or more, even if the rest of the company grew weary and would have preferred to return to the palace. If Anne seemed to be bored or unhappy with the activities planned for her, Henry would stop them in a heartbeat and devise some other means of entertaining his wife, expecting their companions to go along with the change in activities without a murmur of protest and with every show of pleasure, never thinking to ask whether they might have preferred to do something else.
Today, after a couple of hours of riding in the morning, Henry had decided to devote the early afternoon to archery and he was patiently tutoring Anne in the use of the long bow, albeit a lighter one than he usually used, while Brandon and his other selected companions looked on, feeling rather bored.
Brandon could imagine that Cardinal Wolsey was well-pleased with this state of affairs.
Nobody who knew the cardinal well doubted the fact that he was more than a little dismayed by the way that Henry had been taking far more of an interest in affairs of state lately than had been his custom before. He took his duties as King more seriously now and was less willing to leave his tasks in Wolsey's eager hands while he amused himself with other pastimes. However, now that he had made cheering Anne up his personal mission, Henry's focus was on his wife and Wolsey could focus on the business of running the kingdom to his heart's content.
He wondered how the Duke of Norfolk and the Earl of Wiltshire – soon to be made a duke, now that he was the grandfather of a Prince – felt about the current state of affairs. Were they pleased to see how much Henry was devoting himself to Anne's happiness, especially when they must have been put out to see him treating Katherine cordially after the birth, or were they more dismayed to see that Wolsey was, once more, making himself indispensable to Henry?
Anne's family were determined to see to it that she was the favoured consort, the one with whom Henry spent his time and the one he honoured as his true wife and now as the mother of the heir to the throne but that had only been part of their goal when this whole affair began. They were also determined to bring down Wolsey and, now that Arthur's birth had further cemented Anne's place, and her family's, in Henry's good graces, Brandon doubted that it would be long now before they struck... and when they did, they would expect him to help them.
Wolsey had been kind to him before.
Brandon had not been fully aware of it at first but, shortly after Henry first welcomed him back to court, he learned through the court grapevine of the efforts that Wolsey made on his behalf when Compton brought Henry the news of the fact that his closest friend had married his sister without his approval. He had known when he asked Margaret to marry him that it could be seen as an act of treason for him to marry the King's sister without his consent, as to do so would deprive Henry of a valuable marriage pawn, but while he was prepared for Henry's anger to be terrible, he had not seriously considered that the full penalty for treason could be exacted against him. When he and Margaret were banished from the court, with Margaret commanded to relinquish her property, he thought that this was the worst case scenario.
He did not realize then that Henry had given serious thought to carrying out the threat he had made to Margaret – the threat that she had dismissed as an idle one, though it unsettled her when she first heard it – and ordered him executed, nor did he realize that, of all the people at court, Wolsey was the only one who had dared to speak a word in his favour to Henry, reminding him of their previous friendship and urging him to deal gently with Brandon for the sake of it, rather than punishing him to the extent that the law allowed him to.
Wolsey advocated mercy, Henry listened and Brandon's life was saved.
Had he known that when Thomas Boleyn came to him, offering him a return to court if he was willing to ally himself with him and with Norfolk and help them bring down Wolsey, would he have still agreed to the proposal or would he have refused to work against the cardinal who had done him such a service? Would he still have agreed if he knew just how grand Norfolk and Boleyn's ambitions were from the beginning, instead of them only revealing their intentions with regard to Anne after he had pledged his assistance to their cause, letting him know that they intended to see to it that she was placed on the throne, displacing Queen Katherine?
Brandon had gained a return to court from the arrangement and, although the other men had gained more, he knew that they would still consider him indebted to them and they would expect him to repay that debt once they called it in. If he refused to cooperate, it was likely that they would use Anne to see to it that he was banished from court in disgrace, knowing that Henry would send him away as soon as she asked him to, without even trying to coax her to reconsider her request, and this time, they would not help bring him back.
He should not have agreed to help them.
It had not taken Margaret long to reach that conclusion, once she realized that Boleyn and Norfolk did not just want him to drag Wolsey down but also to raise Anne. She was appalled by the thought that her husband might have helped to make it possible for Anne to be a royal bride instead of a mistress, as her sister was before her, something that was especially galling because it meant that protocol demanded that Margaret yield precedence to her and she also expressed outrage on Katherine's behalf, knowing that it would hurt her sister-in-law to have to share her husband with another woman and to see that woman's son supplant her daughter.
Brandon had not spared much thought to how Katherine must feel about this affair; he never thought much about her at all. Henry was the centre of the world for most of the courtiers, the sun around whom they all resolved, the King whose favour they courted, knowing that his good will could mean the difference between prosperity and penury, even life and death. Next to him, Katherine was a much quieter figure, never attracting attention the way Henry – and, to a degree, Anne – did.
But she had always been there, or at least it seemed that way.
Even when Brandon first came to court as a young boy, the Spanish princess who had been married to Prince Arthur for a few brief months before his death left her a young widow dependent on the tender mercies of her miserly father, was there, an unobtrusive presence at the edge of the court and of the royal family, never fully embraced by either as her position was so uncertain, with few believing that old King Henry had any intention of allowing her to marry his younger son and giving her a second chance to be England's Queen, no matter what promises he had made to that effect, especially when Katherine's father refused to pay the remaining portion of her dowry.
Brandon could remember how determined Henry was to marry Katherine when he first became King. He didn't have to do it. Katherine was already older than was customary for a bride, particularly a royal one, and with her mother dead, her value as a wife was diminished. Few would have blamed Henry if he had repudiated their betrothal, sending Katherine back to Spain, accompanied by what little remained of the dowry she brought as Arthur's bride, and looked elsewhere for a wife. He could have taken his pick of the eligible princesses in Europe, whose fathers would have been pleased to see their daughter as England's new Queen.
But he had insisted that he would keep his word and marry Katherine. He wanted to marry Katherine and turned a deaf ear to anybody who attempted to dissuade him.
Now Henry had a new wife, one to whom he seemed utterly devoted, and his feelings towards Katherine had soured to the point where he would gladly have seized any opportunity to dissolve his marriage to her, stripping her of her title of Queen, the title she had held for so long and turning his back on their union as though it counted for less than nothing.
Brandon would have had to have a heart of stone not to feel pity for Katherine but he had committed himself to help Boleyn and Norfolk and that was a commitment he could not lightly escape, not if he wished to remain at court, and his family's future depended heavily on him continuing to enjoy Henry's favour... and for that, he could not afford Anne's enmity.
So when his thoughts were interrupted by Henry lavishing praise on Anne for her shot, letting him know that she had finally managed to shoot an arrow in the general direction of the target, Brandon joined in the applause, speaking a few words of congratulations and knowing that he could not be the only one who failed to do so.
Anne had Henry wrapped around her little finger and, as long as that remained the case, any courtier with sense would cultivate her favour, just as they cultivated Henry's... even if they did rue the day that she became his wife.
Since the day that Master Cranmer had first arrived at court to act as her chaplain, Anne had spoken favourably of the man to Henry on several occasions, mentioning that he was a very intelligent man and praising his gentleness and good sense. Henry had not paid much attention to Cranmer before today, although he had made a point of receiving him for a brief audience and welcoming him to court, to please Anne, so he could imagine that it had come as a surprise to Cranmer when he received an invitation from his sovereign, asking him to attend a quiet supper this evening in the King's quarters.
Anne was still quiet and somewhat subdued after parting with Arthur so Henry had avoided dining in the Great Hall before the eyes of the court, thinking that it would be better if he and Anne either ate their meals by themselves or else in the company of a select number of their closest, most trusted circle of friends, people whose lively conversation might cheer her up but who would not whisper about her if she was subdued at dinner. When he suggested that, in addition to Knivert, Brandon and Anne's father and brother, they could invite Master Cranmer to join them for supper tonight, Anne had agreed enthusiastically, suggesting that Cromwell could be invited as well and noting that he was a friend of her family's as well as being a very able and intelligent man.
Henry agreed, sending a page to bring an invitation to Cromwell to join them, caring little about whether or not it was fitting for him to invite his secretary to dine with him like that.
He would have invited one of the spit boys from the kitchens, one of the humblest chamber servants in the palace or one of the boys who mucked out the stables to supper if he thought that it would please Anne to have their company and, in any case, if he had had any concerns about how his secretary would conduct himself while dining with the King and his chosen circle, those doubts were quickly put to rest.
Cromwell was an engaging companion, chiming in with conversations readily enough but without pushing himself forward in a manner that might give offence to his betters. He was also very considerate of the nervous Master Cranmer, discreetly drawing him into conversation rather than allowing the chaplain's shyness to lead him to pass the meal in silence, not daring to speak a word unless he was asked a direct question.
"Your Majesty might be interested to hear Master Cranmer's thoughts on Your Majesty's Great Matter," Cromwell observed in a calm, measured tone, not seeming to notice that the other conversation stilled at his words, with most of those who sat with him at the table looking worriedly at Henry, wondering how he would react to Cromwell's choice of topic.
By common consent, the topic of the King's Great Matter was avoided at court these days. Things had settled down since Henry had accepted the pope's offer of a compromise and married Anne while he was still joined in matrimony to Katherine, at least in name, and nobody would have wanted or dared to be the one who broke the unspoken rule against mentioning Henry's fight for an annulment, reminding him that it was a fight he had lost. He was not a man who liked to dwell on his defeats.
Knivert came perilously close to choking on his wine and Brandon kept his gaze fixed on Henry, wondering how he would react to this and feeling concerned about the fact that the issue had been raised. They had settled into an uneasy peace since Henry had taken Anne as his second wife and Brandon was wary of anything that might upset the apple cart and perhaps even ignite the issue once more. This affair had already caused enough difficulty and pain without it doing more damage. Even the two Boleyn men looked slightly ill at ease, though Anne took it more calmly.
For his part, Cranmer looked as though he would have dearly loved to be anywhere else but sitting at this table before his sovereign, whose attention was now directed squarely at him.
"What are your thoughts, Master Cranmer?" Henry asked calmly, well able to guess that the other man felt nervous and wanting to hear what it was he had to say. When Cranmer tried to avoid the question, insisting that it was nothing, just a few meaningless observations he had made, Henry pressed the issue, more firmly this time. "I command you to tell me."
Poor Cranmer was too nervous to speak so Cromwell stepped in on his behalf, explaining the matter to Henry in his usual calm manner. He might have been discussing the weather or some similarly innocuous topic, not the issue over which the King was prepared to set himself against Queen Katherine, the Holy Roman Emperor and even the pope himself if it was necessary in order to achieve his desire before he was finally prevailed upon to accept half measures.
"Master Cranmer made the observation that, in his view, Your Majesty's Great Matter was never a legal issue." Cromwell explained, his outwardly calm demeanour belying his inner excitement and pleasure at finally having the opportunity to bring up this issue. If he had judged the King rightly, then his words would be very welcome to him and could well prove to be the first step towards guiding the King away from the corruption of the Church of Rome and leading him instead to form a true, uncorrupted Church of England, one governed by the King instead of by a foreign pope. "Kings, as we all know, are set above the law and answerable to God alone, who anointed them. Master Cranmer argued – and I agree with him – that the issue was never a legal one, it was and always has been a theological one."
Henry pondered his words for a few moments before turning his attention to the nervous Cranmer. "And how did you think the issue should be decided, if it was not to be decided in law?" He asked, albeit gently, not wanting to frighten the man. Master Cranmer was the first person who had ever framed the issue in such a way and Henry was curious about his proposal, wanting to learn more about it. It was true that, as King, he was anointed by God, chosen by Him to rule over England. The books Anne had given him made persuasive arguments for why the Church should be governed by the King rather than by a pope, arguments that definitely appealed to Henry.
If he was answerable to God alone, then did the pope have the authority to refuse him when he petitioned him for an annulment of his marriage? If, as King, he was answerable only to God, then what else could have put the thought of annulling his marriage into his head except a direct message from God, letting him know that He was displeased with their union and that He wanted Henry to dissolve it so that he could make a true union with Anne?
But for Anne's encouraging smile, it is unlikely that Cranmer would have had the courage to say his piece. Like everybody else, he was very aware of the fact that if he offended Henry, he could pay a heavy price for doing so. However, if Anne thought that it was safe for him to say his piece and that he would not draw the King's wrath on his head by doing so, he trusted her judgement.
"I believe that Your Majesty should have canvassed the universities for their opinion on the case," Cranmer explained, his shyness gradually melting away as he expanded on his theme. "They would have been able to examine the case, and without feeling under pressure to appease the Emperor for political reasons, as the pope was, and would have been able to return a verdict in short order – a verdict that I believe would have been overwhelmingly in Your Majesty's favour, as justice demanded of them... if you chose to pursue such a course of action, I mean," he trailed off, hoping that he had not gone too far and caused offence, or that Henry might think that he was criticizing him for not persevering in his efforts to obtain his annulment. "I know that Your Majesty acted only for the best."
"I'm not so certain, Master Cranmer." Henry contradicted him quietly, using his knife to push a piece of meat around his plate as he mulled over the other man's words.
The way Cranmer spoke, it all sounded so simple.
In a few sentences, he had proposed a solution to the dilemma that Henry had wrestled with before he ever broached the matter with Wolsey, let alone appealed to the pope, and his explanation for how the universities could have been canvassed made a great deal of sense... so much so that Henry resented the fact that he had not heard of this before now, when he had already consented to the pope's compromise and it was too late.
The universities in England would have found for him, he knew that, and it was likely that the same was true of the French universities, as they would be only too glad to strike a blow against Spain, their ancient enemy, by annulling the marriage of one of her princesses. Germany and even Italy were likely to have declared for him and, while it was safe to say that the Spanish universities would have pledged their support to Katherine, too afraid of her nephew to dare to speak the truth, Henry was confident that he would still have won by a comfortable majority.
And then he would be free.
He wouldn't be dealing with this absurd situation, where his wife, the woman who should have been his Queen, was denied that title so that his sister-in-law, his brother's widow might carry it and instead had to consent herself with the title of Princess Consort as long as Katherine lived, when his son and heir could not stay at court with his parents because he had to have his own establishment as soon as possible in order to make it clear to everybody that, regardless of the fact that his mother was one of two wives, he was a legitimate prince and the rightful heir to the throne and when his own subjects were tittering in secret over the fact that their King had two wives.
Instead, he would be married to Anne and only to Anne. It would be clear to everybody in England and in all of Christendom that she was the true, rightful Queen of England and that Arthur was the Prince of Wales and the sole heir to the throne, with his younger brothers, and perhaps even a sister or two following him. Katherine would revert to her title of Princess Dowager of Wales and he would provide for her amply – despite her stubborn insistence on denying him justice, he would not have punished her by leaving her in penury, he would have continued to support her in the manner her station demanded – and, although he would have ensured that Mary was properly provided for, as a King's daughter ought to be, he would be able to make it clear to everybody that she was a bastard, instead of having to pretend that his illegitimate daughter was a princess by rights.
How had Cranmer, an obscure cleric, one whose name Henry would never have heard if not for his previous connection to the Boleyn family, hit on a solution so easily when all of Wolsey's shrewdness and diplomacy had only been able to achieve the half measures that Henry had reluctantly accepted... or had Wolsey truly done all he could in order to win Henry his annulment?
A man of Wolsey's intelligence should have been able to think of Cranmer's idea long before it got to the point where his royal master was left with a choice between asking the woman he loved to accept the indignity of being his second wife rather than his Queen in order that they could be together, or else fighting what would surely have been a losing battle in order to annul his accursed union with Katherine.
Wolsey should have been able to think of it... so why hadn't he?
Was it an oversight on his part, or had he thought of the idea and neglected to mention it?
Had he been too afraid to offend the pope to let Henry know about a possible solution to his dilemma, one that would have spared him and Anne a great deal of trouble and pain?
Was there a way in which Wolsey could have helped him, but he chose not to?
God help Wolsey if Henry found out that this was the case!
TBC.
New chapter coming soon.