(Am a bit unsure about this chapter, as I've been dosed up on painkillers all week-please let me know what you think)

'Ten minutes, Lady Cromwell,' said the guard, as he twisted the key in the rusty lock, 'then I'm afraid I'll have to escort you out. This one's not meant to have visitors. King's orders-it's more than my jobs worth for you to be caught here,'

'Don't worry,' I smiled at the guard, who was no more than a child, 'ten minutes will be more than enough,'

I stepped into the cold plain cell, thinking that I had seen this grotty room before. I nodded at the guard as he locked the door behind me. As the door was bolted, my mind remembered why this place looked so familiar-it was the cell in which they had kept Thomas.

'If he gives you any trouble, Lady Cromwell,' called the guard through the bars, 'just gives us a shout and we'll come running,'

I glanced over at Anthony, who was sat on the edge of the cot bed. To my surprise, his rich clothes were now ripped and dirty, but his body looked like he was far from suffering from his imprisonment-I guessed his mother was using every penny she had, to make sure her son was well feed in his final days.

'Don't worry,' I replied, 'I can handle him,'

The guard left us alone, and for a moment there was silence between us. On my journey to the Tower, I had clear picture in my mind of all the things I want to say to this bastard but as I heard the guard's feet on the steps, my mind couldn't think of how to start. It was Anthony, who broke the silence.

'Lady Cromwell,' he said, with a sly smile as he looked me up and down, 'well, you certainly look the part in all your silks. You've come a long way from when you use to walk the streets carrying you bucket of water, your rags all filthy and your face covered in dirt-mind you, Cromwell probably would still have gone between your thighs, even in that state!'

'Shut up, Anthony,' I answered with surprising coolness. I walked over to where he was sat and stood over him, 'all my life, I have had to live with you constantly being my shadow and I'm sick of it!'

'Well,' he sniggered, 'by this time tomorrow I will be gone, unless...'

'Unless, what, Anthony?!' I answered with my hands on hips, 'unless by some miracle you are pardoned! Come Anthony, you don't really think the King will let a worthless creature like you, go free!'

Once again, there was silence between us. Anthony bowed his head, staring at the straw covered floor, as I stood over him, my eyes glaring hard into his dirty blood hair. Suddenly, he starts laughing, this time louder and clearer.

'God,' he laughed, throwing his head back as he did so, 'you're even beginning to sound like him,'

I rolled my eyes as I heard Anthony's words and I walked away from him and going over to the small table. It was covered with letters from Lady Dixon, all reassuring him that everything would be ok but not one from his wife, I noticed.

'Did your mother tell you that she came begging to me on her hands and knees, wanting me to forgive you and get the King to pardon you,'

Anthony once again went silent. He laid down on the bed and just stared at the stone ceiling. I watched his face-it was no longer one of laughter and mirth, but one of bleakness.

'Of course you did,' I muttered, out loud, 'because it was your idea...did you ever love me?'

'What does it matter now,' he answered, almost emotionless, turning his head so he was now looking at me, once again. Thomas was right, I thought, he is wallowing in self pity. I know the answer to my question but I need to hear it from his lips.

'Yes,' I almost shout, 'yes, it does matter. Because for the best part of my life, I have had to live with you creeping behind me. Even on all those occasions, all those happy times when I have blocked you from my mind, you have found away to weasel your way back in and I want to know that come tomorrow I will be free!'

'Did your husband tell you, he came to see me?'

'Of course,' I smile, feeling a lot more calmer, as I realise there is no longer any point getting angry with this man, 'if I hadn't been about to go into labour, I would have come with him. Get it over and done with, instead of having to wait till now to get some answers from your miserable mouth,'

He sat up then, swinging his legs round so that he was now, once again sat on the edge of the bed.

'What has he done to you, Bathsheba?' he sighed, shaking his head from side to side, 'you use to be such a sweet, innocent creature,'

'Really?' I reply, turning my back on him and walking towards the window, 'didn't you tell Rich, I always was a wanton little creature?'

Once again there is silence between the two of us, as Anthony ponders the answer to the question and I stare out into the courtyard. Among the dreadful winter weather, I saw another batch of prisoners being led through the courtyard to what could be their final resting place.

'I was jealous, Bathsheba,' he whispered, 'it's eats me up seeing you holding Cromwell's hand, wearing his ring and bearing his children. At night, I feel sick, thinking of him running his dirty hands all over your pure body,'

I stared closer at the prisoners being marched pass the window, all looked to desperate; half staved with clothes destroyed to rags, I doubted many of them would see the end of the day.

'You told your mother that I seduced you with witchcraft,' I replied, still not looking at him, 'that this pure virgin begged you to bed her,'

'I was scared, Bathsheba,' he answers, his voice still low, 'you knew how my parents would react, after what happened with Margaret. It broke my heart seeing you lying in a heap at the bottom of the stairs, then seeing you, from the window, drugging along the road, carrying our unborn child, walking out of my life,'

'Yet you didn't come after me,'

'I got you out of St Agnes!' he answered, raising his voice slightly.

'Yes and then you left me again!' I reply, sharply. I still don't look at him, instead I watch as some men led two horses across the yard, pulling a cart. On the cart was a long wooden box, which I guessed contained someone who had not had the fortune to survive this hell hole, 'oh I don't doubt that you felt some guilt over your mother's treatment of me but you never loved me or our daughter. You treated Maddie like dirt, you ignored her, even when she was in your care! Then you tried to kill her mother in front of her, like you tried to kill her in front of her other daughter and like your actions helped to kill her unborn child!'

'Bathsheba, please!,' cried Anthony, rushing across the cell and grabbing hold of my hand. I jumped as I felt his hand grasp mine but I still didn't look at him, 'please, please forgive me. What I did, I did because I love you and it broke my heart seeing you with that...that devilish bastard, knowing you loved him, as did Mar...Magdalene,'

I remained silent and didn't reply. I still didn't look at him. After years of playing the fool, I could see where this is heading.

'We were good together, were we not Bathsheba,' he continued, holding tighter to my hand, 'remember the fun we had in that inn in Plymouth. We still could be good together.'

'And how can we do that, Anthony?'

'Beg the King for forgiveness. If the woman I tried to kill can forgive me, surely the King can,'

'And my husband and children?'

'Leave him, be with me. Bring the children with you, if you must but the important thing is, is that you see the King, get him to...'

'Anthony,' I interrupted him as I looked at him with a sad smile, 'I have never been to Plymouth...I get the feeling that if for some reason, I lost my mind and walked out on the man I love for you, after getting you your freedom, I would soon find myself alone again. Wouldn't I, Anthony?'

Anthony doesn't say anything, just lets go of my hand and sinks away from me, still looking like a naughty schoolboy.

'I came here today,' I said, walking towards the door, 'because I needed to hear it from you, yet you still can't bring yourself to admit it. That you are here today because of your own vanity. And you are still using your vanity to try and get yourself free,'

'Bathsheba...'

'I hate executions,' I continued, 'they remind me of the day my mother died and despite the fact you used and continue to use me, I don't even want you to die. But I need to be free of you, Anthony, please let me be free and live the rest of myself in happiness and peace...Guard, please unlock the door,'

The young guard came back to the cell and unlocked the ancient door, but as the door slammed shut behind me, I heard Anthony call.

'I'm sorry, Bathsheba,'

The guard escorted me out of the Tower and to a waiting barge. I was emotionless the whole time, not feeling anything, thinking anything or saying anything. It was only as the guard helped my down the slippery stone steps, that I returned to myself.

'Are you alright, Lady Cromwell?'

'Yes,' I answer, with a smile, 'yes I am,'

****

I walked through Westminster Palace like I was floating on a cloud. I was free of the burden I had had to carry since the day Anthony had lured me into the barn, with promises of love and marriage. It was cruel to feel that his impending death would be my freedom, but it was the road he had decided to take.

I found Thomas in one of the richly decorated chambers, waiting for the King, his head bent over some papers that he had laid out on the table.

'Bathsh...' but I didn't let him finish. I marched straight over to him, put my arms round his neck and kissed him, passionately.

'What was that for?' he laughed, almost breathless as our lips parted.

'For being my husband,' I answered, before returning my lips to his, 'get away from the King as quickly as possible,'

'Why?'

'I have a surprise for you,' I smiled, running my hand across his black doublet, as my other hand played with a curl of hair just behind his ear.

'You know I don't like surprise, Bathsheba,' said Thomas, raising an eyebrow as he linked his hand in mine.

'Yes,' I reply, leaning closer to him and whispering in his ear, 'but I promise you Lord Cromwell, you'll like this one,'

As we went to kiss again, the door to the chamber banged open and in walked Suffolk and Bryan. Both looked as arrogant as ever, Suffolk seeming to regained his usual confidence, now knowing that Thomas could no longer threaten him, by telling the King that he was linked with Anthony's failed coup.

'Cromwell,' scoffed Suffolk, 'if you can put your wife down for a moment, the King will see you,'

'And Lady Cromwell,' smiled Bryan, looking at me suspiciously, 'the Queen would like to see you,'

****

I bid goodbye to Thomas, making him promise to get away from the King as soon as possible. I made my way to the Queen's chamber, with a smile on my lips, though feeling slightly unnerve by the fact that Suffolk and Bryan continued to follow me.

'You're looking well, Lady Cromwell,' said Suffolk, falling into step beside me, 'most men have crumbled, having gone through what you have,'

I looked at him and smiled, despite the fact I hated them both with all my being. They were creatures only after themselves, not liking it when someone they deemed unworthy got in their way-but there was no point worrying about them anymore. Soon, they will be out of our lives forever, with a sea between us.

'I hear you went to see an old friend of yours, Lady Cromwell,' hissed Bryan, in that way of his, 'how is Lord Dixon. I bet he was happy to see the face of such an old friend. Bet it was a great comfort to him,'

We had reach the door to the Queen's chamber by that point, and before I open the door, I turned to look at them both. They stood side by side, their eyes seeming to say something to each other and they both had a smiles on their lips.

'I doubt I brought Lord Dixon any comfort,' I answered, still smiling, 'how's your son, Suffolk?'

'Good but no thanks to that feral daughter of yours!,' replied Suffolk, his temper slightly raising.

I turned my back on them then, hoping to finally be free of them, but as I opened the door to the chamber, both of them remained.

'Tell me, Lady Cromwell,' asked Bryan, 'do you know who your namesake was married to?'

'King David,' I answered, turning back to look at them both, slightly confused.

'No, her other husband?' smiled Suffolk, 'Uriah the Hittite, King David's faithful servant. The man David had killed, so he could marry his wife...mind you, Uriah was an honourable man-not like your husband,'

And with that the two of them where gone, leaving me feeling uneasy.