Page 91 of Love, Remember Me

"Why should he disbelieve you?" Lady Rochford said impatiently.

But Thomas Cranmer did not believe the queen when he was recalled and fed this new piece of information. Now he was quite certain that the queen was lying. What else was she lying about?

"Be careful what you say to me, madame, lest your life be forfeit. His grace is prepared to grant you mercy, but only if you speak the truth of this matter to us."

"It is true!" Catherine insisted. "I swear it! Dereham forced me!"

"Every time?" the archbishop said disbelievingly.

She nodded vigorously. "Aye! I was never a willing party to his lustful intentions, I swear it! I wasn't."

"Your only hope, dear madame, is in the king's forgiveness. I warn you again to take a care as to what you tell me and swear to."

But Catherine Howard was now foolishly convinced that if she claimed rape, she would not be held responsible for her premarital conduct. Why should she not be believed? She remained adamant, and Thomas Cranmer could not sway her for the moment. In her confession she had said that Dereham asked her to marry him any number of times, but that she had refused him. When faced with the information that the chamberer, Mary Hall, had heard Catherine promise Dereham that she would love him always, unto death, that she indeed loved him with all her heart, the queen denied ever having said such a thing. It was Mary Hall's word against hers, and the king loved her. He would believe her over everyone else, Catherine convinced herself. Had Rochford not said so? And Rochford was wise in the ways of the court.

The Duke of Norfolk despaired to his grandson over Catherine's stubborn and childlike belief that if she admitted to nothing, nothing could be proved of her. "Does she not see that by admitting to a precontract with Francis Dereham, she may save her life?" he said. "If she says she was pledged to him first, then her marriage to Henry Tudor is invalid, and no adultery can be proved of her."

"They have no proof of adultery?" the Earl of March replied.

"Cranmer suspects," the duke answered his grandson. "He thinks, of course, it is Dereham. That is why he is pressing her so. Catherine and our family represent the old form of worship. The archbishop is no fanatic, but he is a reformer. He would see someone more like-minded as Henry's queen. Surely you know Prince Edward is being raised in the reformed faith. I have heard rumors that they would restore Anne of Cleves to the king's side, and the people would be very pleased if he went in that direction, Varian. They always liked her, and could never understand why a king would put aside a royal princess in favor of a mere English maid. Aye, Cranmer and his cohorts seek Catherine's death. Only if she is dead can they be certain she will not creep back into the king's good graces. Even as a mistress, she would be dangerous to them, or so they believe."

"You need have no fear that the lady Anne would remarry the king. She will not have him, Grandfather, or so my wife says. Besides, the lady's mother was of the old church, and the princess Mary has drawn the lady Anne back to that way of worship. It would do the reformers absolutely no good to restore her, for she would be of no use whatsoever to them," Varian told his grandfather.

"The Privy Council is having a secret meeting tomorrow," the duke said. "I will know more then. In the meantime be careful."

Francis Dereham, Henry Manox, and several others in the dowager's livery were arrested and confined to the Tower. The queen grew quite hysterical at the news. She was terrified at what they might say, and realized that she must say her piece first, before they were questioned. She begged that the archbishop attend her once more. Thomas Cranmer came to listen to her admission that, aye, she had indeed given Dereham gifts, and even received gifts from him. She had had a silk shirt made for him, but not satisfied, he had stolen a silver bracelet from her. He had in return had silk flowers made for her by a little woman in London, and given her some sarcenet which she had made into a quilted cap by the dowager's embroiderer, who had decorated the cap with friar's knots, a symbol of true love. When she had first worn the cap, Dereham, according to Mistress Hall, had said, "What, wife, here be the friars' knots for Francis!" To the archbishop all of this was indicative of a precontract, although the queen continued to vehemently deny it.

" 'Twas naught but in fun," she said. Then she went on to tell the archbishop of how Dereham's behavior was beginning to embarrass her greatly. "I feared his behavior would come to the ears of my step-grandmother," she said, "and then I should be sent back to Horsham in disgrace."

"Why did you not speak to the lady Agnes about this man's disturbing behavior, and his too-free manner toward you?" Thomas Cranmer asked.

"I suppose I should have," the queen admitted slowly, "but we were really having such fun. I did not want to spoil it for the others. If my step-grandmother had known, she would have locked us all up, and we would have never had any fun."

"Did you not realize that your own behavior was wickedly opposed to all that a good Christian woman is taught, madame?" he queried her.

"I did not know how far it would go," Catherine said, pouting. "I was just an innocent maid up from the country."

"The fellow knew you carnally," the archbishop said. "Tell me about it, madame."

The queen began to cry again. "I am so ashamed," she sobbed.

Better she had been ashamed then than now, the archbishop thought sourly. This silly girl is causing us all no end of trouble. However, he turned his most beatific gaze upon her. "Tell me, Catherine, my daughter. Unburden to me, and you will be free again."

"Most times he had on his doublet and hose, but sometimes he was naked, I mean without his hose," the queen said. "He came to me when the old dowager had gone to bed. He brought me all manner of little treats. Sometimes wine, or strawberries, or sugar wafers. Once the most perfect apple I ever saw."

"What if the duchess had come in while you were together?" the archbishop wondered aloud. "What would you have done, my child?"

"She did come in once." Catherine giggled inanely. "I had to send Master Dereham into the gallery so he would not be caught."

Her own words had convicted her, thought the archbishop. She cried rape, yet she sent her lover to hide when she was near to being caught.

"When the news came that I was to come to court," the queen said, "I was so excited. My uncle paid for a whole new wardrobe for me. I had three changes of clothes! I never had new clothing before."

"What of Dereham?" Thomas Cranmer pressed her. "Was he upset that you were to go away?"

"Aye, but I cared not. I told him that if he wanted to ask my uncle's permission to wed me, he must go to Ireland to make his fortune. I had no intention of marrying him, but this was the easiest way to rid myself of the fellow. He saw my eagerness, and he berated me for it. I was forced to tell him that I did not care what he did anymore. I would go to court, and my uncle would find me a good match. Then Dereham said to me that he had heard that I was to wed my cousin, Tom Culpeper. He was very jealous." She giggled again.

"When he said that, what replied you, madame?"

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