Page 88 of Love, Remember Me

"You will be kept informed," he said, and left them.

"What else could it be?" Varian asked his wife when they were alone again. "What could she have done to merit house arrest?" He went to the sideboard and poured them each a small goblet of wine.

Seated together before the fire, they sipped their wine and spoke in soft voices so as not to be overheard.

"Before her marriage Cat spoke of a rather unorthodox childhood in the old dowager's house," Nyssa told her husband. "The maidens were left badly supervised, if looked after at all. She told me of two men who tried to seduce her. I told her to tell the king these things so that one day they could not be used against her, but she would not. She was afraid that he might not marry her if she did."

"It is possible, then," he said thoughtfully, "that this unchaste life may have been dragged up to discredit her with the king, but who would do such a thing to poor Catherine? She has not the brain of a peahen, I fear, but her heart is good. Who seeks to harm her?"

Nyssa merely shook her head.

"We must behave as if we know nothing," Varian told her. "We cannot draw attention to ourselves, sweeting, lest we be dragged into whatever sort of scandal is brewing."

"Aye," she agreed. "With God's good luck, this matter will soon be settled and we can go home to Winterhaven."

CHAPTER 15

THEarchbishop questioned John Lascelles and his sister, Mary Hall, once again. He allowed the Duke of Norfolk to sit with him in silence when he did. When they had departed, he turned to the duke, asking him, "What think you, my lord duke?"

Thomas Howard was slightly gray in color. He was genuinely disturbed by Mistress Hall's account of life in his stepmother's house. Most of the young women in the family had been entrusted to the dowager duchess's care at one time or another. They would have been better raised by the hounds in his kennels, he thought, but he was very circumspect in his answer to the cleric. "I cannot rely upon only the word of a servant in such a serious matter, my lord," he said gravely. "I must speak with my stepmother to learn what she has to say in her defense."

"Aye, I shall want to speak with the lady Agnes myself," Thomas Cranmer said quietly. "I am appalled she did not exercise better control over those young innocents in her charge."

"As am I," the duke replied grimly. He hurried off to Lambeth to speak with his stepmother.

The Dowager Duchess of Norfolk had already heard the news of the queen's confinement. Rumors were flying regarding the matter. If the misconduct had taken place in her house, she would be blamed. She was frantically searching the house for any incriminating evidence left behind by Catherine when she departed to go to court. Her stepson's arrival did not do anything to ease her mind. "What news, Tom?" she asked him nervously.

"Why, madame, did you not tell me of Catherine's misbehavior prior to our dangling her before the king's nose?" he demanded of the old woman.

"I did not know," Lady Agnes admitted, and then defended herself, "Why should the blame be on me alone? These girls came to me for polishing before they went to court. I should not have had to be responsible for their morals."

"Then it is true what they are saying? That you let the girls in your charge run loose like bitches in heat? God's boots, madame! Where was your good sense? Surely you must have known that a scandal of this nature would erupt eventually! With the others it would not have mattered, but this was the girl we singled out to be queen!"

"You are panicking, Tom," his stepmother said. "If the offense took place before the marriage, indeed before Catherine even met the king, she cannot lose her head for that. What is the worst that can possibly happen? He will put her away and marry another wife. The Howards will be out of favor again, as they were in the time of Anne Boleyn's fall.But, we will survive to play the game another day, I think." She smiled encouragingly at him.

"Perhaps," he said. "I have just come from the archbishop. I sense he seeks something more than has been given him. I do not believe he will find it, but if he does, then the situation will be far worse, madame."

The Archbishop of Canterbury pondered his second interview with Lascelles and his sister. They had not deviated a whit from their stories. Then there was the new knowledge he had just obtained from the king: that the queen's former lover, Francis Dereham, was now in her household. Why had Catherine taken this man into her service if she did not mean to take up with him again? He was young, and handsome, and undoubtedly vigorous in bed sport, unlike the aging, overweight king.

He had not proof as of yet, but could there possibly be adultery involved? That would mean treason. He shuddered. He had been given a mandate from the king to get to the bottom of the pot, but now it would seem that the pot was far deeper, and possibly dirtier, than he had ever anticipated. Still, there was no going back now.

He met with his fellow members of the Privy Council and laid the facts he had gathered to date in the matter before them. It was agreed that there was a basis for proceeding further in the investigation. The king was summoned and told of the council's suspicions, particularly the new ones regarding Francis Dereham. He groaned unhappily.

The archbishop told the king, "She has betrayed you in thought, and if she had an opportunity, would have betrayed you in deed."

The king put his head in his hands.

"Your Grace, I have no substantive evidence to date that would prove the queen has been unfaithful, but we must seek for such evidence if for no other reason than to clear her grace's name," the archbishop explained gently. "No stone can be left unturned."

The king looked up bleakly at his council, and then to their great amazement, Henry Tudor began to weep openly. "How could she betray me when I have loved her so greatly?" he cried, and then he slumped back in his chair sobbing bitterly.

They were shocked. They were astounded! Every man on the council knew in that moment how deeply the king had loved Catherine Howard. The more cynical among them wondered, however, how long that love would have lasted. They were embarrassed nonetheless that a man of his personal courage would have given in so to his emotions, yet they admired him for it. They could see their sovereign become an old man before their very eyes. It was a terrifying experience, for it touched on their own mortality.

The king arose heavily from the council table. "I am going hunting," he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his big hand.

Henry Tudor departed Hampton Court for Oatlands within an hour of his departing the council chamber. He took only half a dozen companions. He needed time to nurse his wounds. He did not want to have to face the public at this moment. He did not want to be there when the queen was officially informed of the charges that were to be lodged against her. Earlier, before he had left Hampton Court, he had gone to his chapel to pray, and to calm himself. Suddenly, outside, he had heard the sounds of scuffling, and Catherine's young voice desperately shrieking his name.

"Henry! Henry, in the name of God speak with me!"

---