Disclaimer: Not mine.
Chapter 25 – Waiting Game: If Anne's fall had not been an accident, if someone had pushed her, they were going to pay. Brandon had never seen Henry this angry before. But then, his friend had lost a child – the boy he'd been craving, no less – and may yet lose a woman he'd loved. Apparently Anne had hit her head when she fell, and Dr. Linacre could not tell if she was going to wake up. Brandon knew that if something like this had happened to Margaret, whether she was carrying their child or not, he would cheerfully have strangled the person responsible.
"I want to know if someone pushed her, Charles," Henry said, his voice cold with anger. "I'm putting Cromwell on it, but… He's new to his job, I don't know if it's wise to have him doing this alone. I want you to be just as involved with the investigation. I need people I trust in charge of this."
Brandon bit his tongue so that he wouldn't complain about working with the jumped-up tavern owner's son. He hated Cromwell, but he knew better that to argue. Besides, this way he could keep an eye on the other man; his resentment didn't stem so much from Cromwell's rise – Brandon was self-aware enough to know that his own rise was rather similar, even if he had started out with better blood – as the fact that he simply did not trust the man. Cromwell struck him as the sort who would smile and act your friend even as he slipped a knife between your ribs, assuming it served his purposes to do so.
"Of course, Your Majesty. I'll go meet with Master Cromwell now."
"Thank you, Charles."
It was a relief for Henry to know that his oldest friend was on his side in this. It was odd, but part of him almost hoped that someone had pushed Anne. If this had been an attack, it gave him someone to blame. If it truly had been an accident… He thought of Anne, pale and still in her bed, with no sign that she would wake. He didn't want to blame her if it had been an accident. It would be tempting… but no, if it had been a fall, then surely it was just ill luck, nothing more. It couldn't be anything more than that, he told himself. God, he hoped he would have someone to blame, because this uncertainty had him feeling helpless. He hated that.
Something occurred to him then. If this was an attack…. Likely it was Anne who was the sole target; she was the one who had been pregnant with England's heir. But what if this attacker was particularly canny, and chose to hide his true motives by attacking other royals? Henry thought he was safe, personally, but his wife, his sister, his daughters and nephew, what of them?
Quickly, he ordered a page to catch up to Charles, to inform him that the first order of business should be to secure the rest of the royal family, in case the possible attacker did not stop with Anne. It was important to find out if there was someone behind this, but not at the expense of another person in his family.
Kate felt she couldn't bear staying in here any longer. She knew that Mary had to be feeling as guilty as she was. If they hadn't listened to Anne when she dismissed them, none of this would have happened. And Kate had another reason to feel guilty, one that she was afraid to share. Mary had already wondered aloud about what it was that the Queen had so urgently wanted to speak to Anne about, but Kate knew what it had been about.
Her possession of Anne's old French Bible had clearly clued Katherine in to something. What it was, Kate wasn't entirely sure. She knew that the King had made changes to the heresy laws – it had been all over the court that Thomas More had resigned his position as Lord Chancellor because of it – but she didn't know if Anne had had anything to do with it. If she did…
The Queen wouldn't have done this. Kate was absolutely certain of that. She had never been able to understand the relationship between Queen and handmaid, though she had tried many times to do so. That being said, she knew that whatever the bond was, it ran deep enough that things would never escalate to this. Still… What if they'd argued, and Anne had been distracted enough that she either fell or never heard her attacker coming? The whole mess would have begun because Kate had decided to show her Bible out where everyone could see.
"Kate?" Mary interrupted her thoughts.
"Yes?"
"Can you… Someone needs to tell the family that Anne lost her baby. If you tell George, he'll take care of it."
"Wouldn't he prefer to hear it from you?"
"I'm the one who was with Anne, I was supposed to stay with her. No, I don't think George will want to see me right now."
Kate hesitated, wondering if she should tell Mary that really, it was her actions that had set all of this up. But somehow, she couldn't get the words out. So instead she just nodded and walked out, after one last look at the woman in the bed. She didn't know what would be worse: if Anne had simply had a mishap or if someone had deliberately done this. No matter what, things were going to be unpleasant around here for a while, to put it mildly.
It didn't take long to reach George's quarters, but he wasn't there. "He's with Lord Rochford, my lady," the manservant who was straightening things up told her. As soon as Kate heard that, phrases she'd heard dockworkers give voice to began running through her mind. She did not want to have to deal with Rochford right now. Knowing him, he wasn't even concerned for his daughter's health.
But she had told Mary that she would speak to George, so she turned on her heel and made her way to Rochford's quarters. When she entered, Boleyn was sitting at a desk, looking as cold as ever. George was leaning against the wall, his hair mussed from raking his fingers through it. "Katherine," Boleyn said icily. Kate managed not to scowl at the use of her full name – everyone knew she went by Kate because there were simply too many Katherines about – and turned to George, addressing him instead of the elder Boleyn. It was rude, but she didn't care right now. As far as she was concerned, Boleyn didn't have a right to information on his daughter.
"Anne lost the baby," she said. "It was a boy, but the King… He seems convinced that someone attacked her."
George winced. "At least that means he won't be blaming her."
"Unless it turns out that Anne was just being a fool again, wandering around when she should have been keeping to her rooms," Boleyn put in acidly.
"Anne would have been extremely careful not to fall, Father. She's never been clumsy, not even during pregnancy. I don't think she would have fallen without someone 'helping' her."
"Has the doctor said anything about whether or not this marriage has left Anne infertile?" Boleyn asked, ignoring his son's comment and directing the question at Kate.
"She hasn't even woken up yet, Lord Rochford, don't you think such questions are premature?"
George pushed off from the wall and came to stand next to Kate, worried that his young cousin's refusal to answer the question would cause trouble for her with his father. Sure enough, the older man was studying Kate with the same narrow-eyed expression he usually reserved for his children. "I did not ask if she was awake, I asked if the doctor knew whether or not this miscarriage would prevent her from having more children."
"I think what Kate was trying to say, Father, is that they don't even know if Anne's going to survive, much less if she'll be able to have more children," George cut in quickly, shooting Kate a look to tell her to get out of there. Kate moved to the door, but she stopped dead at Boleyn's next words.
"If Anne dies, I already know we can try to play on Henry's grief, it's if she's infertile that I need a plan – " He didn't finish because his son's fist whipped out, colliding hard with the older Boleyn's cheek.
"I am sick and tired of hearing you talk as though we – Mary, Anne, and I – are nothing but tools for you and Uncle Norfolk to use," George said, his voice soft but somehow deadly. Kate thought that his words could not have carried more menace if he'd shouted them at the top of his lungs. "I think you need to take some time, Father, to remember what that title is supposed to mean."
George strode for the door and Kate quickly exited so he wouldn't collide with her. Out in the hall, her cousin studied her with dark, rueful eyes. "I'm sorry you had to see that, Kate. I'd best go tell Uncle Norfolk, or maybe I'll tell Hal and he'll do it for me. I'm not sure I can take dealing with my uncle as well today."
"I could go," Kate offered, but George shook his head.
"No, go back to Mary and tell her that I don't want our father anywhere near Anne, even if – no, when – she wakes up. Actually, I don't want Uncle Norfolk there either. The only male relatives who should be able to see her will be Hal and me."
Kate nodded. She agreed wholeheartedly with that decision. Of course, it would require the King's agreement, but she was sure that between them, she and Mary could accomplish that. Of course, if Anne didn't wake up… No. She was going to think like George and believe that Anne's waking up was a matter of when, and not if. It simply had to be.
"I'll do what Charles asks, for this one thing, but after that I'm going back to the country, because I can't always pretend that I – " Katherine cut Margaret off, not wanting to hear yet another rant. It was fortunate that her ladies were still in the outer chamber, as she'd sent them there before speaking to Anne.
"I don't want to talk about Henry's handmaid today, Margaret," she said icily. She was still upset enough that she didn't think it best to refer to Anne by name.
"Have you finally come to your senses about her then?" Margaret said with a satisfied smirk, clearly missing the point. Katherine was trying to figure out something to say that wouldn't show how angry she was – still with Anne, and now with Margaret, who simply did not know how to leave things be – when one of her ladies interrupted.
"Your Majesty, the Duke of Suffolk is here."
"Send him in," Katherine said, immediately diverted. A glance at Margaret showed that she hadn't been expecting her husband to pay a visit, which raised Katherine's suspicions. Brandon wasn't exactly a common visitor to her apartments, which meant something was going on.
Brandon entered, and after making the proper bow and greeting to Katherine, turned to his wife. "Margaret, once I'm done explaining things, you're to come back to our quarters with me, and you and Edward have to stay there until further notice."
"What? Why?"
Brandon took a deep breath before addressing both women. "There is reason to believe that members of the royal family could be in danger. Lady Anne was found two hours ago on the stairwell that leads off from the corridor outside these rooms. We don't know yet if she just fell or if she was pushed, but the King wants a full investigation as if an attack was already confirmed. He also wants to be sure that everyone else in the family is safe, so there will be extra guards here, at the nursery, Princess Mary's quarters – "
"And ours," Margaret cut him off. "But how is it that we don't know if this was an attack or Anne was just clumsy? Didn't she say?"
Katherine had been wondering that herself, but for some reason she couldn't seem to form the words. So she was grateful that Margaret had asked.
"When they found her, she was already unconscious, and so far efforts to revive her have been unsuccessful. Dr. Linacre told the King that all anyone can do now is wait to see if she'll wake up on her own or if she won't wake up at all." Focusing on Margaret again, he continued, "We really need to leave. I'm supposed to be heading up the investigation – along with Cromwell – so I need to get you back to our rooms."
"I can travel alone, I'm not an invalid. Besides, why would I be a target? If someone attacked Anne, obviously it was to kill her child. I'm assuming they succeeded, if she's that badly injured."
"Yes, they did, and even if that's true, Margaret, a clever man – or woman, even – might decide to attack someone else in the family just to hide their real intentions!"
"Margaret, your husband is right, and you really should just cooperate. It will make things easier on all of us," Katherine put in. And I don't want to witness one of your marital battles right now, she added silently. She just wanted – no, needed – for them to leave, because although she'd felt oddly numb since Brandon had explained just what was going on, she had a feeling that it wouldn't last.
"Oh, all right," Margaret said irritably. "Fine, Charles, let's go then. And why has my brother put you with Cromwell? Does he want to have one of you murder the other?"
Katherine didn't hear Brandon's response, as the door closed behind them before the duke could respond. For several moments she just sat there, still feeling that curious detachment. But then, slowly, it receded, as Brandon's words rang in her head.
"Lady Anne was found two hours ago on the stairwell that leads off from the corridor outside these rooms."
That meant it had been right after Anne had left – no, after she'd ordered the younger woman to go. If she hadn't done so, then if Anne had been attacked, her assailant would not have had the chance to do so. If she'd simply fallen… It wasn't like Anne to be clumsy. Either way, it had happened right after she'd left Katherine, and that…
Katherine found that she was shaking slightly. Why? Why was this affecting her so much? Yes, she and Anne had been close enough to be considered friends these past few years, even with this latest disagreement. It was just, Katherine had been sure that once they had both calmed down from their argument, they could discuss the matter again more civilly. She had told herself that all Anne needed was to understand the error of her ways, and she would be willing to listen to the younger woman's reasoning if only so that she could explain where it was in error.
She hadn't wanted things to remain unpleasant between them for long. It could only hurt them both. It wasn't smart for them to be at odds, not when it was up to them to keep peace in the royal family. Henry certainly wouldn't try, if she and Anne were feuding he would side with her and that might be trouble for Mary as well as Katherine herself…
Her thoughts were racing, and if she were speaking aloud she felt sure that the words would get muddled. Why was she trying so hard to think of the rational reasons why she didn't want to have things so wrong between her and Anne? Why did the thought that maybe she just didn't like the idea of being at odds with the younger woman make her so nervous? And what did it matter now, what her plans had been? Anne's fall had possibly scuttled that, now that they didn't even know if she was going to survive.
That thought made her feel ill. Anne couldn't die now, not when things had ended so badly between them, not before… Before what? Her thoughts had gone from rambling to all but nonsensical. There was absolutely no reason for her to be this upset, for the thought of Anne dying now to fill her with a cold dread not unlike the time Henry had forgotten his visor in a joust with his friend Knivert, and for a moment it had seemed as though he had taken a severe injury.
Of course she'd been terrified then, but Henry was her husband, the man she'd loved for the entirety of their marriage. Why would her reaction to Anne's situation be so similar, when the younger woman was merely a friend? She didn't know, though some part of her felt that the answer was close, and when she finally figured it out, it could change everything.
Jane found herself in the chapel without really intending to go there. She'd just heard about Lady Anne's fall, and she didn't know how she felt about it. As she sank to her knees and tried to pray, she wondered what she was praying for. The soul of that unborn child, who had never had a chance to live? It was right and proper to pray for that baby. It wasn't his fault – and rumor said that the child had been a boy – that his mother was a woman with no shame, a woman who had for years flaunted her position.
Jane pushed away thoughts of Anne. She could not bring herself to pray for the woman's recovery, but neither did she want to blemish her own soul by praying that she didn't survive. It was wrong to pray for that, even if Anne's death could be seen by some as a blessing.
In fact, Jane could easily see how things would be better if Anne Boleyn did not survive. Queen Katherine would no longer be faced with a handmaid who didn't know her place, a woman who acted as though she were the Queen's equal and not a lesser woman who was lucky to have been raised by the King. Little Princess Cecily would be raised with the influence of the Queen and Princess Mary – and the King's new handmaid – becoming a proper young lady without any of her mother's faults.
And that new handmaid could be Jane. Especially now, she thought, her hand falling to her stomach. She had only just become sure today, and she had told no one – except for her brother Thomas. There was less than a year between them, and she had always been closer to Thomas than Edward. Edward would have given her that coldly speculative look of his before starting on theories of what they could get out of the child in her womb. Thomas had put his arm around her shoulders as she'd cried, hating the fact that her child was to be no more than a bastard, like ill-fated Henry Fitzroy.
But now there was hope. If Anne died, then Jane could tell Henry that she was pregnant. Surely, the idea of having a son and heir even sooner than he could have dreamed would make her irresistible to him as his new handmaid. Her child would be born as Prince of Wales, and he would be safe. His birth would not hurt the Princesses; Jane was sure that Princess Mary would welcome a little brother at last if his mother wasn't the woman who had surely been such an offense to her for these past years. As for Princess Cecily, she was too young to resent a little brother, and Jane was sure that she could find it in her to be kind to Anne's child. She wouldn't want her good fortune and her child's to bring harm on his innocent half-sisters.
She could not pray for the death of a woman, even Anne. But she could pray for her son, could she not? She could pray that he would be safe, secure, and have his full birthright as the King's child. If God saw fit to answer her prayers, well, he would do so. If it meant that someone else's fortunes would fall, then surely that was his will, and not an ill-wishing on her part.
A/N: OK, after that last scene I'm feeling a bit slimy. Such self-serving logic there… ick. I'm sorry to keep you all in suspense about Anne – don't worry, you'll know before the next chapter is out, and I think my history with characters I love should be an indicator. Investigate that history a bit and you should know how things will work out.