Page 85 of Love, Remember Me

"Oh, 'twas a good year later, sir, and there was Manox waiting for her, eager to take up where he had left off, but she would have none of him then. She told him so in no uncertain terms. He was not happy about it, I can assure you, for I'm certain he had been bragging about his earlier adventure with her, and how she would come back to him."

The archbishop leaned over and refilled Mistress Hall's little goblet, smiling as he did so. "Go on, madame. Tell me about Francis Dereham. When did he meet the lady Catherine, and how involved with one another did they become?" He leaned back in his chair to listen.

"Francis Dereham was one of the duke's gentlemen pensioners. Like Manox, he was not her equal, but he did not let it bother him. Manox, of course, was pea-green with jealousy when he saw Master Dereham beginning to pay court to my mistress. She was totally entranced when the two men began fighting bitterly over her. She was the envy of every girl at Lambeth.

"Dereham gained the upper hand with Lady Catherine almost immediately. He was a great deal more dashing than poor Henry Manox, and had a better position. He could play the gentleman while the lutanist could not. Manox faded away, embittered, even as Francis Dereham rose in my young lady's favor. Still, he was not a true gentleman. He made far too bold with my mistress, but when I scolded her about it she told me, 'Francis has said we will wed one day.' 'What?' I replied. 'Is this the same silliness as 'twas with Master Manox? You do not have the right to pledge yourself to anyone, my girl! Your uncle, the duke, will choose a husband for you when the time comes, and that will be that.' 'I will have none but Francis Dereham,' she insisted.

"At that point, my lord archbishop, our long friendship began to wither away. I could not condone my lady's naughty behavior. Then Dereham threatened me. 'If you tell the dowager duchess,' he said to me, 'I will claim you are a liar and seek to harm me, for you are in love with me and I will not return your love. You will lose your position, and who will have you then?' What could I do but remain silent?"

"Do you know of any improprieties Master Dereham may have taken with the lady Catherine?" Thomas Cranmer asked her.

"Indeed, sir, I do, although my mistress excused them on the grounds that they were to marry one day. All the young people in the house believed that, for both of them constantly talked of it. At least Dereham's intentions were honorable, though Manox's were not. Many nights Dereham would creep into the dormitory where the young women slept and climb into Mistress Catherine's bed. I had been used to sleeping with her, but I would not do so any longer. I was a married woman. I well knew what all that puffing and blowing in the night was about. Several of the more chaste girls refused to sleep near her for such noises shamed them."

The archbishop was horrified. "Are you saying, Mistress Hall, that the lady Catherine was not a virgin when she married the king? That she gave herself willingly in carnal copulation to Master Dereham?"

"I cannot say for certain under God's oath, my lord, for the bed curtains were closed; but I believe that she was not a virgin when she left Lambeth for court," Mistress Hall told him.

"What else?" he asked her.

"They called each other husband and wife," she said. "Everyone heard them, and knew of it. Once he kissed her publicly, and so passionately that we remonstrated with him for fear the dowager would see them. Master Dereham replied, 'What? Shall a man not be permitted to kiss his wife?' The lady Catherine was somewhat embarrassed by him then. She was growing more aware of who she was, and considered his behavior a trifle coarse. I believe she would have been happy to be rid of him then, yet she continued to entertain him in her bed. Manox, angry that Dereham had succeeded where he had failed, began bragging to all who would listen that he knew of a secret mark on my lady Catherine's body. I warned him to silence, disgusted by then by what was happening, but unable to stop it.

"Finally the lady Catherine convinced Dereham that if he was indeed to marry her one day he would have to make his fortune, or the duke, her uncle and her guardian, would not even consider his suit. I know that she knew then that she was to go to court as a maid of honor to the new queen, the Princess of Cleves. The dowager duchess had just told her of her appointment, and had impressed upon her the honor involved. The lady Catherine was very eager to be rid of Dereham. He left her with his life savings, one hundred pounds, and went off to Ireland. The money, he said, was to be hers if he did not come back. He truly believed he was to be her husband, my lord. I heard the rumor that in Ireland he turned to piracy, but I cannot know for certain." She quaffed her wine.

The Archbishop of Canterbury felt as if a huge weight had been lain across his narrow shoulders. "Who in the queen's household was with her at Horsham and Lambeth?" he asked Mary Hall.

Mistress Hall considered a moment, and then she said, "There is Katherine Tylney, Margaret Morton, Joan Bulmer, and Alice Restwold, Your Grace. I do not think there are any others."

"Will they confirm your words, Mistress Hall?" he said seriously.

"If they are honest they will, my lord," she told him.

He nodded. "You are not to speak of this to anyone, madame. Not even to your brother. What you have told me indicates that the queen led an unchaste life before her marriage to the king. That in itself is not treason, but it might indicate that she has led an unchaste life since her marriage. Bad habits are often difficult to change. I must speak with these chamberers now serving the queen, however, before I make any decision in this matter, Mistress Hall. That is why I must request your silence. I may want to speak with you again." He arose. "Let me take you back to your brother, and I will instruct him as well in his behavior. Master Lascelles is sometimes overly enthusiastic in the pursuit of his cause. He is known for it."

The archbishop escorted Mary Hall from his privy chamber. Seeing them, John Lascelles leapt to his feet and hurried toward them. The archbishop held up his hand for silence before the man might speak.

"Your sister's speech with me is confidential and not to be discussed between you two, Master Lascelles. I intend to investigate the matter further, based upon what your sister has told me. I may call upon you both again in the near future to testify before me. Do you understand me, sir?"

Lascelles nodded. Taking his sister by the arm, the two left the archbishop's palace in Southwark. Behind them England's highest and most powerful cleric was left behind to mull over what he had been told. He could see no wickedness in Mistress Hall. Indeed, if anything, she was sympathetic to the queen, even if she disapproved of her former mistress's behavior. It was that behavior that troubled the archbishop.

There was no doubt in Thomas Cranmer's mind that Catherine Howard was a fickle young woman. She obviously fell in and out of love as easily as one changed one's linen. Henry Tudor's courtship had undoubtedly overwhelmed her. The king might be a corpulent, middle-aged man, but the power he represented, the wealth at his disposal, all must have been extremely heady and tempting to an unsophisticated young girl barely out of the country. He shook his head. Was she still in love with the king? Or had she already fallen out of love? Publicly she seemed a model wife, and God only knew the king was desperately in love with her.

What was he to do? the archbishop wondered. If the queen's behavior today was moral and decent, if she had honestly reformed her wicked ways, was there any advantage to bringing up her less than savory past before her marriage? The king would not be pleased to have the reputation of his rose without a thorn besmirched. I must pray on it, Thomas Cranmer thought. God will guide me. He walked slowly into his private chapel, and kneeling down upon his little prie-dieu, closed his eyes, folded his hands together, and prayed.

THEking returned to Hampton Court and ordered that on All Saints' Day a service be offered of special prayers of thanksgiving for their safe return and for his wonderful queen. Henry Tudor stood before his court in the Chapel Royal and publicly declared, "I render thanks to Thee, O Lord, that after so many strange accidents that have befallen my marriages, Thou has been pleased to give me a wife so entirely conformed to my inclinations as her I now have."

Nyssa de Winter's eyes met those of her husband's at the king's public declaration. Varian took her hand in his and squeezed it encouragingly. From his place on the archbishop's throne upon the high altar, Thomas Cranmer heard the king's humble words of thanks and knew what he must now do. John Lascelles was not a man to let go of this matter, having brought it to the attention of the proper authorities. The archbishop knew that if he did nothing else, he must lay the facts of this possible scandal, as he knew them, before the king. He retired after the service to write the king a letter.

At the mass the following day, All Souls' Day, Thomas Cranmer slipped a parchment containing his knowledge of the queen's early life into the king's hand.

"What is this, Thomas?" the king whispered to him.

"For your eyes alone, my liege. When you have read it, I will be at your grace's disposal," the archbishop replied.

The king nodded solemnly, and tucked the parchment into his vast sleeve. When the services had ended, he kissed his wife and hurried to his privy chamber to peruse what the archbishop had given him. He closed the door behind him, indicating to those who served him that he wanted to be alone. Laying the parchment upon a table, he poured himself a large goblet of rich, sweet red wine. He drank it down, and reaching for the missive, broke the archbishop's seal. He spread the parchment out and began to read. With each damning word his brow darkened. His chest grew tight as he attempted to draw a deep breath. For a brief moment the words on the parchment swam before his eyes. When his vision had cleared, the king raised his fist and slammed it down upon the table.

"Lies!" he ground out. "Filthy lies!I will not believe this foulness that the archbishop has presented me with, and I will have this man, Lascelles, arrested and clapped in the Tower!" He strode toward the door, and yanking it open, called to his personal page.

"Fetch the archbishop to me this instant!" he roared.

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