I will never, never promise to update in a week again... I'm sorry, it's almost a month now... I won't bore you with details from my private life, I just apologise!
This is the last drama chapter, I promise, and I hope writing will flow better from now on, but I won't promise anything.
Again, sorry for the long wait!
Hampton Court Palace, early autumn
~o~
Catherine
"You did what?" Catherine was so baffled and angry that she forgot her manners. "Are you mad? Have you taken leave of your wits?" It took all her self-restraint to keep her voice low, so as not to wake anyone. No one could witnes this...scene.
Francis seemed taken aback. "Cat-" He was dressed in a travel cloak and had apparently not expected rejection.
"No. I am not 'Catherine' for you, and neither will I run away with you." His question alone… Did he take her for some steward's daughter?
"The horses are ready, there-" He started but she cut him off again.
"The horses are ready?"
Oh God have mercy, what a fool he is.
She clenched her fists. "Then the king knows. You fool. You have just cut both our heads off, and for what?" There is no way out… Unless… She cursed Talbot for his folly, she cursed herself for her pride and vanity, cursed the world for putting her in this position, but it did not help. If she wanted to keep her head on her shoulders, there was only one way...
Still in her bedrobe, Catherine pushed him aside and ran down the long narrow corridor. There was only one man who could help her now, and it took everything in her to swallow her pride and seek him out.
On her way through deserted corridors, her mind was a mess. The king would know. She had seen this all before. It was a trap, and Francis had walked right into it and had taken her with him. Someone had told Norfolk weeks ago, Norfolk or Wolsey, though the latter had almost lost all his power. And Norfolk had forged a devious plan, surely together with the king, and Suffolk and God knew whom else. A plan to test not only Talbot's loyalty but also hers. She just hoped it was not too late.
The duke's chambers in Hampton Court were splendid and thankfully not far away from hers. Catherine knocked on the double-winged door. Two guards looked at her strangely but said nothing. A lady in her night attire must be a frequent sight here, she thought with some bitterness.
When no one opened, Cat knocked again, and again until he finally opened.
He was surprised to see her, but not as surprised as he should be.
"Lady Catherine?" He was stiffly formal, too. The despair in her heart was growing.
"Talbot just came to my chambers." She started, desperate not to lose another second. "He wanted to convince me to run away with him in the dead of the night. He said he had planned it weeks ago...I had no idea. Please-" she was almost begging now. "Believe me, I had no part in this treason. I would have never agreed to marry him, let alone to betray my king and run away with him. I know the price traitors pay and Talbot is not worth it."
The duke's blue eyes had lost their sleepiness. "Everyone who saw you with Lord Talbot would believe the opposite." he said cautiously. I have lost. And for what?
"No." She shook her head insistently, desperate to convince him. "He flattered me and I accepted it graciously. It was never more than a courtly game for me. He claims it is love but it is not, neither for him nor for me. I was never in any danger from him, only from myself. My vanity and my pride brought me here." It was all so obvious now. "I always swore never to be like my father. And yet, here I am, making the same mistakes." It was a bitter draught to swallow.
"You are not-" The duke began, and she thought that perhaps, his gaze was not as icy anymore, when they were interrupted.
"Lady Catherine Stafford?" She had known it would come to this, from the moment Talbot had appeared in front of her chamber door. She turned around to the guardsmen after one last look at the duke.
"Yes." she replied and squared her shoulders. It was her fault and she would stand up for it.
"In the name of Henricus Rex, the eight of that name, we take you into custody on the grounds of treason."
She had heard this all before.
"I would never act against the king's wishes." she declared and allowed the two guards to take her by the arm. To her surprise, she was led back to her own chambers.
"You may not leave your chambers, my lady. Not until the king and his council have found a verdict."
All she could do now was to pray but she had little hope God would listen this time. Catherine knew how it looked, especially if Francis had been arrested as well. He would blame her, no doubt. She should not have been so harsh, she should have tried to persuade him to admit the truth… but it was too late for that now. Her fate was likely sealed. Others had climbed the stairs of the scaffold with less incriminating evidence.
Perhaps it was time to write her will. That was if the king did not declare her goods forfeited.
The night was still dark and it was a long time till morning but Cat could not find sleep. In the light of a single tallow candle, she wrote several letters...only to tear them to shreds afterwards. She was no beggar. But she would assure the king of her innocence, whether it mattered or not.
She wrote till the small hours of the morning, watched the sky fade to indigo and purple, saw the stars disappear one by one.
She finished the letter with a question:
"Your Majesty, do I, of all people, not know the price of treason best?
Ever your faithful servant in everything I do
Catherine Stafford"
There was not much she could do now but wait. When the morning came and a servant brought her bread, bacon and eggs to break her fast on, Catherine gave her guard the letter and hoped it would reach the king.
She read all her books in her gentle prison, paced up and down the rooms impatiently, she even took up her needlework. That showed the true dimensions of her desperation. On the evening of the second day, she wrote her will.
"To my friend Anne Boleyn I leave my psalter and all other books she might find interesting, so that she remembers me when she does what she loves most.
To Charles Brandon, Duke of Suffolk, I leave the diamond ring I once won from him in a game, so that he remembers what I forgot: When we gamble, we should always be aware of what is at stake.
To my niece Elizabeth and Katherine Neville, I leave all my other worldly possessions. I ask His Majesty, my king, to care of them, for they are his loyal and loving subjects and had no part in the crimes I stand accused of.
His Majesty, my lord and sovereign, I beg for mercy and assure him that I have always, both in word and deed, been his loyal subject and servant and gave him no reason to doubt my honest intentions. False accusations have been made but I shall forgive those accusers upon my salvation.
I will pray for my lord and king, for mankind has never witnessed a more honourable and just prince than we have in Henry VIII.
Catherine Stafford."
She had written it down now, although she still hoped she would not need it. Catherine left it on the desk by the window in her reception chamber and withdrew to her bedchamber for another sleepless night.
~o~
Charles
"It is Talbot. He wanted her, she refused him, now he wants her to pay. He has his family in his back but Catherine has no one who would protect her." He noticed himself that he sounded too eager and fierce but the sight of her, desperate and helpless in front of his chamber door was something he could not forget.
"So you have decided to do it?" Henry asked with a sad smile.
"Do you really think she is innocent, Charles? Remember her father…"
"She is not like her father. We all have relatives but they do not define us. Or do they?"
Charles knew well that Henry did not like this at all. His relatives were mostly Welsh born, and he had only a drop of that old blood in his veins that all the great lords shared. His own father had been one of many contenders for the throne and it had been a sword and a wife that had secured that chair for him.
"Not our relatives, but our deeds. She spent much time with Talbot and he says that she allowed him to go further than any other man." 'He claims it is love but it is not, neither for him nor for me.'
Charles forced himself to calm down. Talbot was a liar and a sore loser. Catherine would have never given him that gift. She would have never allowed him to-
"I trust him not." Charles said. "But I trust her. Your Majesty, she has always proven her loyalty. She did what all other ladies did but Talbot thought he could get more from her. He wanted to spite me by marrying her- and taking her dowry away from me."
Henry looked at him for a long moment.
"Anne says the same. What am I to do?"
Charles had forged out these plans with Anne Boleyn, had joined forces with the Boleyn girl, all for her. He could not hate Henry's most beloved anymore, but they would never again be on the same side, that much he knew. Her plan had been clever though, very perfidious.
"Tell Talbot that Lady Catherine is accused of high treason and will soon be executed, though not for the crimes he has accused her of but for others that came to light during the questioning. The only way to save his own head is to tell us the truth, for she has told her chaplain everything and this chaplain reported back to his sovereign."
Henry nodded. "Anne has planned this. I see." As always, the thought of his sweetheart, who had strategically withdrawn the Hever, warmed his heart. "I am ready to believe the girl is innocent. My lords are lions while she is a little bird caught in a storm. But I need the truth. What shall I do with Talbot afterwards?" Anne Boleyn had found an answer for that, too.
"Marry him to Mary Dacre. They could not decide on a dowry before but now... Shrewsbury, Talbot's father, will agree, no doubt he'll be happy to keep his heir and spare himself the disgrace. Then Talbot can rot in Derbyshire for all I care."
It was a kinder fate than he deserved but Charles knew that she would not want him dead despite everything.
"A kind fate. But wise. Shrewsbury will kiss my feet for sparing his son. He wrote me a letter in which he admits that Francis planned all this. Of course, he only admits it because we have intercepted their correspondence." Henry grinned but it looked as if he had a toothache.
"All these noble lords with their great names are vultures, nothing more. I'll spare the girl, for you." Now the old Henry was back, his grin turned into a smug smile.
"She is a pretty thing, and no doubt she will be grateful beyond measure. You saved her life." Charles did not like his king's smug grin at all. She would never love him for saving her life. She was too proud...and he did not want to win her like this. She would take him, no doubt. To pay her debt. But she would despise herself for it, and him as well.
"She may never know. Tell her it was Mistress Anne, I beseech you, Your Majesty."
"Are you certain?"
"She is her closest confidante. And it was her as much as me." That was not true, they both knew. The Boleyn girl had done everything for Catherine but she had no influence in parliament. Charles was the Lord Steward of the Royal Household, though.
"Lady Catherine might never give you-" Henry started but that was not at all what he wanted to hear.
"No. She might not." he agreed quickly. Henry understood.
"As you wish."
Charles pinned the other man against the wall.
"You know nothing about her."
Talbot looked a tad frightened but not enough.
"I always knew you wanted her. She looks sweet, I admit it. And her blood is even nobler than mine. But she is made of ice. You will get frostbite from kissing her. Not that I would know, she never allowed me to come so close. She is colder than winter in Scotland. Do you know what she said to me when I offered her my heart and hand and told her that I sacrificed everything just to marry her? She asked me whether I had taken leave of my wits. I had just laid my heart at her feet and she stamped on it." His tone was laced with self-pity and bitter hatred.
"And you think that gives you the right to denounce her?"
"Oh, please. Spare me your moral ramblings. You have waited for this, haven't you? Looked at her, kept an eye on her...and now, you are her saviour, a knight from the tales. Her personal Tristan, her knight of the Round Table. Low-born and slow of mind, your only virtue is the king's friendship. She will not have-"
Charles' fist found Talbot finely chiseled jaw. And because it felt so good, it found his strong nose, too.
"You are the one who has to fear for his life in a draughty cell in the Tower, Talbot, not me. So you will gracefully accept the terms I offer you and withdraw all accusations against Lady Catherine Stafford."
Blood ran down his chin in a thin trickle and Talbot's gaze could have frozen the river Thames but Charles did not care whether he hated him or not.
"You will marry Mary Dacre and never show that aristocratic face at court again. You will never contact Lady Catherine, neither in person nor by messenger. You will be grateful that the king spared your pathetic life and go to Derbyshire and pray for his health five times a day." Charles did not care for that, either, but mentioning prayers and divine justice simply felt right.
Talbot spat blood.
"I will." For a moment, Charles wanted to insist on his title but then he let it go. This man was nothing but a fly in his broth and he had spooned it out already. Why should he bother with it any longer?
~o~
Catherine
"Cleared of all accusations." The king took her arm like the guards not even a fortnight ago. "Malicious detractors have named you a traitor but your name has been cleared, sweet Catherine. Loyalty always defeats dishonesty, and there shall be no injustice in England as long as I rule."
The king kissed her upon the cheek and Cat looked at the sea of courtiers in front of her, all these smiling faces...they would have sold her for less than a copper penny. Even the noble lords that had claimed to love her so. All power derived from the king...blood or not, it did not matter. Power was power, and wealth was wealth. Old blood, old names, ancestry...it was both hindrance and help and it was surely not as important as it had been in the days of the Plantagenet kings. Catherine had learned it all the hard way...but she had learned it now. The haughty noble lords were as shallow as a winter grave and she could not rely on her blood and name to save her. She was no longer part of that faction.
"Your Majesty is too kind. As long as I have my king's love, I shall never fear."
Anne, who had just returned from Hever clapped her hands in excitement. "And now, the play!"
It was a play about the Greek God Apollo who pursued the nymph Daphne. Daphne refused him kindly at first and then more openly. In the end, Daphne's father transformed her into a laurel tree at her wish to protect her from Apollo's advances.
In the final scene, Apollo, still lovestruck, stood under the tree and vowed to love her forever: "Always my hair will have you, my lyres will have you, my quivers will have you, laurel tree. You will be the symbol of triumph and virtue."
The audience howled when the actor who played Apollo suddenly pulled out a bag full of laurel wreaths and tossed them to the ladies in the first row. Catherine caught one, too, though with much less enthusiasm. This play reminded her too much of Talbot...and of the possible outcome of her great folly.
Anne rose from her chair at the king's side, the Queen's chair, though the Queen never sat in it anymore.
"All ladies shall wear laurel crowns for the dance!" she exclaimed and Henry laughed. Anne took off her hood and shook her long dark hair confidently.
Henry put thewreath from her hands and placed it on her head tenderly. "A crown for my queen." he whispered into Anne's ear, barely loudly enough for Cat o hear, who sat at Anne's side.
Brandon at Henry's other side showed no sign that he had heard his friend. Would he ask her to dance? Of course he won't, you fool. In fact, he was evading her, now, that Cat wanted to talk to him, wanted to thank him so desperately. Although everyone had insisted that it was Anne, and only Anne, who had swayed the king, Anne herself had hinted at something else entirely.
"If not for a certain standard bearer's son, I would sit here now lonely and with tears in my eyes." Catherine had never been so ashamed in her life, never been so eager to apologise, but even though she did everything in her power to meet him alone, he was as flighty as water running through her fingers and she had not said more than three words to him since her release. The people were already talking about her strange habit of wandering the first floor gallery on her own but although it was the only passage that led to his chambers, he had never crossed her path there.
A deep, rich voice roused her from her unhappy thought and for a moment, she felt hopeful again.
"My lady? May I take this dance?" she spun around, only to be disappointed. Sir Francis Bryan was no doubt handsome, despite the patch he wore over his eye. But the Vicar of Hell was not whom she had dreamt of lately. It would be rude to refuse him though, especially as Brandon had already asked a different lady to dance, that girl Margery Horsman, shy and sweet, but with a complexion so pale that it looked like dough and watery blue eyes. Why her?
"You may, Sir Francis." She said, trying to sound enthusiastic. She had blown her chance with Brandon, she knew that much. But she had to apologise, she had to thank him for what he had risked for her, who had treated him so harshly.
Bryan danced like a pirate, and that was the best that could be said about his dancing qualities. He was too fast, too rash, too wild and his grip on her waist was uncomfortable. Catherine thanked God when the dance was finally over.
"You will excuse me." She fled the stuffiness of the hall. The air outside was already cool, too cool on her hot, sweaty skin, but when she inhaled deeply, it came as a relief.
The terrace was empty, no one else was foolish enough to risk a cold. But, no, wasn't there someone wandering in the Cardinal's Italian garden? The light fog obscured her sight, but it could be him. She had not seen the duke in the hall, had assumed he had left the hall with Margery, but this man was alone.
Cat was fully aware of the danger she would put herself in if this man was not Brandon, but she had to take the risk. She gathered her skirts and ran over to him, the air burned ice cold in her lungs.
It was him.
"Your Grace."
He had not expected her and he was not at all pleased to see her.
"My lady." He nodded. "It is cold, I better return-"
"I apologise thoroughly for the insults you had to suffer at my hand and at the hands of those close to me. And I thank you. I do not understand why you showed me that much kindness but I thank you and assure you that I am forever in your debt. If there is anything I can give you-" She did not finish her sentence, feeling silly. What would he want from her? He managed her finances, he held her income...and what else could she give him?
The duke's face showed a myriad of conflicting emotions but she found it hard to name them. Anger, definitely, sadness, disappointment, regret...but also something softer.
"I wish Mistress Anne had not broken her promise."
"She never did, I-" Cat tried to defend Anne automatically but the duke raised his hand and smiled, a weak, lopsided smile, but a smile.
"I should have known." Then his face was serious again. "You have no reason to thank me. I did it not for your person. I knew what Talbot was planning, I knew what he desired. I should have stopped him earlier. I knew you had no part in the treason he was planning, you are wiser than that."
She had to object here. "Not wise at all. I did not know his treacherous plan but I encouraged him in word and deed and I do not deserve kindness. I was gambling, overestimating myself. This incident was entirely my fault." It felt good to get the words out that she had held back for so long. "And you helped me, although you had no reason to."
Gently, Brandon tucked a loose curl back under her hood.
"You deserve kindness, Catherine. And it was not your fault." Then he paused, perhaps he was lost for words. Slowly, he started speaking again.
"You deny me both honour and manners." He raised his hand when she wanted to object. "The latter is no doubt true. My manners are not refined and elegant, when I dance, I lack the grace and spirit of nobler men, I rarely take part in courtly intrigues and schemes, I do not enjoy reading about theology and politics usually don't interest me. I cannot write poetry, my singing is worse than a cock's crow and God knows, I cannot even play the flute. You are right to call me common, that is what I am. But I am not without honour. I am loyal and I am honest and that is more than you can say for most noblemen at court. You were innocent so I advised the king to spare you, not because of your person but because of my moral beliefs. I will never advise my sovereign to act unjustly. I will never lie to him, regardless of my personal affections or dislikes."
He paused again, this time, Catherine did not know what to reply so she stayed silent.
"I admit that I do not want you to think bad of me. I admit that Talbot often angered me. I admit -"
Whatever he was about to say, he seemed to lose his courage or train of thoughts and stayed silent.
"I do not think bad of you." Cat said. Gently, she touched his hand. "I did at first, yes. But much has changed since then. I am more humble now, I see things clearer. And you are-" Cat swallowed. "You are an admirable man who is worthy of every respect."
This time, his smile reached his eyes. He offered her his hand. "Peace?"
She took it. His fingers were warm against her ice cold skin. "Peace." She smiled.
"We better go back inside, before you die of a cold and it was all for nothing."
He wrapped his fur-lined cape around her shoulders and Catherine inhaled the musky, mossy smell.
For the first time in months, her heart felt light.
Thank you for reading! In the next chapter, I will wrap up all the political stuff that's going on and that I have neglected in these last two chapters: Wolsey, Katherine of Aragon, and basically everything that's going on in Rome. We will also see a lot more of Anne, Henry and the court!
Dianne060807: Thank you so much for your support! I'm sorry it took me so long to update, I hope the next chapter will be easier!
HPuni101: Thank you kindly for your constructive review! Yes, I am not such a big fan of the TV show version of Charles, he always seems a bit too simple, a bit shallow, and I just love conflicted characters^^. I am happy you enjoyed it! I'm sorry about the mistakes. Although I have been living in England for quite a while now I wasn't born here, so English isn't my first language.
ShinyRedPenny: I thank you so much for your review, it really motivated me! I love your stories, I love your characters, so I feel rather honoured. ;)
Anne is my all time favourite historical female character but I find she is often reduced to either the scheming whore or the misunderstood angel. I am happy you like her, there will be far more of her in the next chapters, I had to end the Catherine- Charles- Francis love triangle.
Thank you also for your understanding!
