Chapter 18
Hello everyone! First of all let me wish you all a Happy New Year. And as I am feeling generous, here's a New Year's gift: a brand new update from yours truly :D You know the drill: read and review… please? :D
Brandon took a sip on his wine, looking pensively at the goblet. It was almost morning and he had not slept the whole night. Whenever he tried to do so, the shadowy outlines of Katherine Howard's naked body seemed to dance behind his closed eyelids, along with King Henry's perfectly composed and unaware face looking outside the window. Why should His Majesty be worried? His wife, his pretty, young, fertile fifth wife and Queen had given him a healthy son in her very first pregnancy, unlike her predecessors, who had left behind them either a frail toddler – as in the case of Prince Edward – or a trail of miscarriages behind them – as in the case of Katherine of Aragon and Anne Boleyn, whose only offspring were two living girls, Mary and Elizabeth Tudor. Furthermore, Katherine was only eighteen, which meant she could have many more chances of bearing living and healthy children to the King. Poor Henry, Charles thought. As much as he despised Kitty, her pregnancy and successful deliverance had done wonders for the King's health and mood. The King had reconciled himself with his manhood, Charles chuckled.
However, Brandon did not know how to handle what he had accidentally witnessed. On one hand, he was afraid of bursting Henry's bubble by telling him that his rosa sine spina (rose without a thorn) had just as many thorns as any common harlot. There was nothing that would assure him that the King would take the information well: actually, knowing Henry as well as he did, it was quite possible that, by the end of the day – and even if he was right in accusing the Queen of adultery – Charles was a head shorter. Nevertheless, the duke's conscience would not let him rest. If the whole affair was eventually discovered - which was quite possible since they were in Court, whose eyes and ears were everywhere Brandon feared he would be seen as an accomplice for having hidden the truth.
The question remained the same: who would he tell? For a moment Charles thought of knocking at Cromwell's doo, ut he dismissed the idea as soon as it occurred him. Cromwell would certainly use the information to rise even higher in the King's favour, and that was the last thing Charles wanted. But then… who? Who would be trustworthy enough to keep his secret, at least until more decisive evidences were gathered against Katherine?
The answer came to him in a flash, when the first rays of sunshine were already finding their way into the bedroom. Feeling relieved, Brandon started to dress and commanded his servants to get his horse ready after breakfast.
Meanwhile, Mary Tudor was on her way to the Duke of York's nursery. The overwhelming feeling of guilt had not disappeared, but it was wrong to punish a little baby for her faults. Therefore, and despite his wretched mother, Mary was determined to be a loving sister to her little brother.
The ladies in waiting seemed utterly surprised – even too much surprised – to see her there at such an early hour. Nevertheless, none of them dared to say no to her. Bastardized or not, Mary was still the King's daughter, so before they knew it Mary had picked Henry up from his cot and placed the bundle in her chest.
He's truly adorable, Mary thought while cuddling his blond hair with her fingertips as his chubby little hands played with the jewels of her necklace. She kissed the top of his head tenderly, and that was when it all happened. As she raised him a little to meet her lips, her thumb grazed a spot of dried skin in the baby's neck, making Mary smile shyly as she remembered the kiss she and Gregory had shared in the gardens. Sure, it had not been proper, but at that stage Mary had been too tired and too distressed to care. Nonetheless it had been undoubtedly a special moment. Mary's smile widened as she looked outside the window, turning her back to the silent queue of ladies-in-waiting who were looking at them, to the very same spot where she and Gregory Cromwell had kissed each other. She could still remember his puzzled look thereafter, as well as her accidental discovery…
GOOD LORD, Mary cried out inwardly, grazing her thumb on Henry's neck one more time. Now she knew why she had remembered Gregory immediately after that gesture: weeks ago she had come across a very similar mark on Gregory's neck. His words were now echoing in her ears:
It's a birthmark. My father has one too.
If Thomas Cromwell had a birthmark – which he passed to his son – and if Henry Tudor of York had one too, there was only a possible conclusion, as remote and hideous as it might be: Henry Tudor was actually… Cromwell's son, Anne's lost baby… her godson Stephen! How in heavens did he end up there? Mary's anger was boiling. Good thing she had turned away from the ladies, otherwise they would have seen her hands shaking. It was a plot, a vile, despicable plot! Kitty and her wicked family had fooled everyone, including the King, by stealing the son of another man and passing him as a royal prince! Mary had to close her eyes for a second in order to keep herself collected. To her there was no doubt that in her arms lied Cromwell's son, not her father's. She had to gather all her self-control in order to prevent herself from shouting furiously at all the ladies in the room. Katherine Howard had just proved she was nothing but a greedy harlot, just like her cousin and her damned family. How could they dare to lie to the King? Mary kissed Stephen with all her love. On one hand she had to suppress the urge to barge into Kitty's room and kill her with her bare hands. On the other hand, Mary could not deny her relief: at least Stephen was being well-fed and princely treated. He was not hurt nor scared; actually, he seemed as healthy and beautiful as any baby. She placed him in his cot again, caressing his cheek. Outside the nursery, her most trusted lady-in-waiting and friend, Susan Clarencieux, was waiting for her. Mary took a deep breath and supported her back on the nearest wall.
"My lady, are you feeling well? Is His Grace alright?"
"He is fine" Mary whispered. They started to walk towards Mary's lodgings when suddenly the princess stopped on her tracks. Susan looked at her with a puzzled expression. Judging by the look on her mistress's face, Susan could tell she had just taken an important decision. She was about to ask if she could be of service when Mary held her hand.
"Susan, I need you to help me on a very delicate matter… one of greatest urgency" she said gravely, looking around to make sure they were not heard.
"Of course, milady. What can I do for you?"
"Could you arrange for us to go to Stepney immediately?" Susan raised her eyebrows in confusion. "It is a matter of life or death. No one must know of it, of course. I need to go to the Imperial Embassy" Susan's astonishment only increased with those last words, but she managed to answer.
"Sure, my Lady. I will talk to my husband, he can take us there.
"Thank you very much" Mary held her hands. "You have done me a great service" and before Susan could answer she locked herself in her room. There was only one person in the world she could tell her finding to… at least for the time being. And Mary knew that if there was someone who could advise her on such matter, it was the Imperial Ambassador.
After a discreet knock on the door, Charles Brandon waited outside the Imperial Embassy at Stepney. He heard footsteps coming from inside, and a second later he was greeted by a surprised clerk.
"Your Grace"
"Is your master here?" Charles cut him off. "I need to talk with him… immediately".
"Sure, His Excellency is in his study. If you could be so kind as to follow me…" invited the young man with a polite, almost professional tone. Charles followed him to elegantly carved door, which led to a small room. Inside there was a round table with some armchairs disposed around it, a marbled fireplace and books. Lots of books, methodically piled in its shelves. Sitting with his back turned to them was the ambassador, which turned his head to the door as soon as his clerk closed it with a muffled sound.
"Your Grace!" he seemed surprised to see Charles at such an early hour. "What do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"
"I am here to talk with you… privately, if you please" Brandon answered. With a nod, Eustace dismissed the young man. When he was gone, he invited Charles to sit and poured two glasses of ale.
"What brings you here, Your Grace? You seem very worried".
"Indeed I am, Excellency. I have seen something I should not have… something that puts me in a very delicate position. But first of all, I need to ask you something. This has nothing to do with your master or his affairs, so I would appreciate your discretion in this matter. What I am about to tell you can bring this country a great deal of trouble". Chapuys raised an eyebrow, which meant he was starting to get interested.
"That is indeed a very unusual request, but if Your Grace insists… I can see this is an urgent matter, and first of all let me thank you for the trust you put in this humble servant of yours".
"I do not know who else I can tell this to. Your Excellency has always seemed to me like a very tactful man, and that is precisely what I need here. To make a long story short, I have seen the Queen… engaged in her… bedtime activities".
Chapuys' eyes widened a little. "If you allow me to ask, how so, Your Grace?" Brandon had always had quite a reputation as a womanizer, but even he would not be so fool as to meddle with the King's kin… again. He had done that once with Mary Tudor, the Queen Dowager of France. It took him a while to regain Henry's favour. Would he be so stupid as to risk it again?
Charles understood the Ambassador's mind and for the first time in days he let out a small chuckle. "It is not what you think, Excellency. I still have good taste in women", he countered, making both men laugh. "I spent the night searching for Cromwell's son – which is still regrettably missing – and when I was coming back to Hampton I accidentally saw the Queen in her bedchamber. The window was closed, but unfortunately the curtains were open."
"Well, as much as I despise her carelessness and lack of decorum, what else can I say? I am glad that His Majesty and his wife are… getting along"
"I am afraid that I haven't made myself clear, Excellency… She was indeed bedding someone… but not the King".
"Oh dear" Chapuys muttered to himself. "How can you be so sure, Your Grace? Have you seen the man who was lying with her?"
"No, but I saw the King on the other side of the castle, in his own apartments. He was looking outside the window, possibly to the river. Unless the King has suddenly become omnipresent, I cannot understand this whole situation" Brandon added with a hint of irony.
"Her family seems to have forgotten their lesson from the past" commented Chapuys, and both men were momentarily lost in their thoughts. The ghost of Anne Boleyn seemed to float over them. The accusations were the same. Adultery. Treason. Plotting.
The silence was broken when they heard voices outside the room.
"My lady, His Excellency is in his study with someone else…"
"Señor Montoya, with all the due respect, I could not care less even if the King of France was inside that room. What I have to tell him is so important that it cannot wait" and with that Mary Tudor opened the door. "Os I need to talk to you" she said, addressing directly to Chapuys by his nickname, being oblivious to the fact that he was not alone.
Brandon furrowed his brow with an amused smirk. "Who?"
"Later, Your Grace" said Chapuys with such a deathly glare that made Brandon drop the subject… with a mental note to ask him afterwards.
"My most gracious lady… what happened? You seem so distressed".
"I have found some evidence of Katherine Howard's true nature" she blurted out.
"What do you mean? Please, be seated" and with that Eustace offered her his chair.
"She lied about her pregnancy, she fooled the whole Kingdom! My brother Henry is not even my brother!" she said, while collapsing on the chair.
"There is a strong possibility of that being true" Brandon sighed.
Mary looked at him for the first time. "What do you mean, Your Grace?" Brandon blushed a little, not knowing how to break the news to her.
"His Grace has witnessed some… adulterous behavior from the Queen. She was bedding someone else last night, while your father was in his apartments. If that is true, the child's true parentage is compromised. "
"But I know who is the child's father! Above all, I know who that baby really is!"
Both men looked at her with an appalled look.
"I fear I do not understand, my lady"
"When I was in Essex, I came to notice that both Cromwell and his son, Gregory, share a birthmark somewhere in their necks. Much to my surprise, when I came to visit him this morning at the royal nursery, I found the very same mark on the baby's neck!" Mary darted her eyes from Chapuys to Brandon, who were completely astonished. If what she was saying was true, it meant death for Katherine and all the Howards. Well, would not that be such a pleasant sight, thought Chapuys.
"Please say you believe me" Mary pleaded to them. "I swear on my mother's soul that this is true".
"I do believe you, my lady" said Chapuys. "However, such an accusation is both extremely grave and extremely hard to prove. You are blaming the Queen of a baby's kidnapping".
"Ultimately, you are blaming her whole family. She would not be so intelligent as to come up with such a scheme by herself. I can see Norfolk's hand behind this" added Brandon.
"And since you and your father are becoming more and more… estranged due to her, I fear he might accuse you of plotting against her, even if your allegations are true".
Mary's nervousness was quickly turning into disappointment.
"How shall we proceed, then?" she asked in a half voice.
"I honestly do not know" said Brandon. "Should we not tell his parents first?"
"Indeed we should" agreed Chapuys. "I pity the Lady Anne of Cleves: this will be such a hard blow for her".
"I do not know how to break the news to her. I don't know how would I react if I was in her place, whether I would be madly furious or dwelling with sadness".
"My Lady, I will have to ask you to gather all your strength and talk to her. That would be the first step to uncover Katherine Howard" said Brandon.
"And which would be the next step?"
"I do not know. Cromwell will undoubtedly be in charge of our… investigation. I would, if it was my son they had dared to kidnap" confessed Charles. "I am sure that cunning mind of his will draw a plan in absolutely no time".
"That will be interesting to watch. I do not know the Lady Anne well enough to guess her reactions, but I know Cromwell well enough to know this: the Howards are not aware of what is coming for them once he knows of their scheme".
"Heads will roll, Excellency" said Brandon in a somber voice. "Heads will definitely roll".