Lamentation (The Shardlake Series Book 6) (10 page)

‘Sir Thomas Seymour was at Whitehall the other day,’ one of the ladies said. ‘He looks more handsome than ever.’

‘Did you hear how he routed those pirates in the Channel in May?’ another asked.

A small, pretty woman in her thirties tapped the table to gain the dog’s attention. ‘Heel, Gardiner,’ she called. It trotted over, panting at her expectantly. She looked at the other women and smiled roguishly. ‘Now, little Gardiner, nothing for you today. Lie down and be quiet.’ The dog was named for Bishop Gardiner, I realized; an act of mockery. The other women did not laugh, but rather looked anxious. One, older than the others, shook her head. ‘Duchess Frances, is it meet to mock a man of the cloth so?’

‘If he deserves it, Lady Carew.’ I looked at the older woman. This must be the wife of Admiral Carew, who had died with so many others on the
Mary Rose
. She had seen the ship go down while standing on shore with the King.

‘But is it safe?’ I saw the speaker was the Queen’s cousin, Lady Lane, whom Cecil had pointed out to me in the courtyard.

‘Well asked, daughter,’ Lord Parr said brusquely.

One of the other ladies gave me a haughty look. She turned to Lord Parr. ‘Is the Queen to have her own hunchback fool now, like his majesty? I thought she was content with Jane. Is this why we ladies have been sent out of the Privy Chamber?’

‘Now, my Lady Hertford,’ Lord Parr chided. He bowed to the ladies and led me towards the door the servant had passed through. ‘Malaperts,’ he muttered. ‘Were it not for the loose tongues of the Queen’s ladies we might not be in this trouble.’ The guard stood to attention. Parr spoke to him in a low voice. ‘No one else in the Queen’s Privy Chamber till we finish our business.’ The man bowed, opened the door and Lord Parr ushered me in.

Another magnificent room. A series of tapestries on the theme of the miracle of the loaves and fishes hung on the walls; there was more linenfold panelling, as well as vases of roses on several finely carved tables, an ornate chess set on another. There were only two people within. The Queen sat on a raised chair under a cloth of estate. She was dressed even more magnificently than her ladies, in a farthingale of crimson under a French gown in royal purple. The farthingale was covered with geometric designs; and as it caught the light I saw the intricacy of the needlework: hundreds of tiny circles and triangles and squares shot through with gold leaf. The bodice tapered to a narrow waist from which a gold pomander hung, and I caught the sharp-sweet smell of oranges. The bodice was low-cut; round the Queen’s white powdered neck jewels hung on gold chains, among them a magnificent teardrop-shaped pearl. A French hood was set far back on her auburn hair. Yet beneath the magnificence, and the white ceruse covering her fine, intelligent features, I could see strain in Catherine Parr’s face. She was thirty-four now, and for the first time since I had known her she looked her age. As I bowed deeply, I wondered what had happened to her, even as I asked myself what the other man, standing beside her, was doing here: Archbishop Thomas Cranmer, the man I had heard was keeping out of trouble down in Canterbury.

I raised myself. The Queen’s eyes were downcast; she did not meet my gaze. Cranmer, however, had no such hesitation. He wore a silken cassock over a black doublet, a simple black cap over his grey hair. His large, expressive blue eyes were troubled.

‘Serjeant Shardlake,’ Cranmer said in his quiet voice. ‘Why, it must be three years since we met.’

‘And more, my Lord Archbishop.’

The Queen looked up, cast her sorrowful eyes over my face, and smiled tightly. ‘Since the time you saved my life, Matthew.’ She sighed, then blinked and turned to Lord Parr. ‘Is Elizabeth gone to sit for her portrait?’

‘Not without some swearing. She thinks it unseemly to be painted in her bedroom.’

‘So long as she went. This portrait is important.’ The Queen looked at me again, then said quietly, ‘How have you fared this last year, Matthew?’

‘Well enough, your majesty.’ I smiled. ‘I labour away at the law, as usual.’

‘And young Hugh Curteys?’

‘Well, too. Working for the clothiers in Antwerp.’

‘Excellent. I am glad some good came out of that bad business.’ She bit her lip, as though reluctant to continue.

There was a moment’s silence, then Cranmer spoke. ‘As the Queen remarked, once you saved her life.’

‘It was my privilege.’

‘Would you save it again?’

I looked at the Queen. Her eyes were cast down once more. This subdued figure was not the Catherine Parr I knew. I asked quietly, ‘Has it come to that?’

‘I fear it may,’ Cranmer answered.

The Queen pressed her hands together. ‘It is all my fault. My vanity, my forwardness—’

Lord Parr interrupted, his voice authoritative. ‘I think it best we start at the beginning and tell Serjeant Shardlake all that has happened since the spring.’

The Queen nodded. ‘Fetch chairs, all of you.’ She sighed. ‘It is no simple tale.’

We obeyed, sitting in a semi-circle before the throne. She turned to her uncle. ‘Tell it all, tell it straight. Begin with what the King said in March.’

Lord Parr looked at me hard. ‘You will be only the fifth person to know this story.’

I sat still, trying to keep my hands unclenched on my knees. I realized that I had truly launched myself into a deep well this time. The Queen was looking at me with a sort of desperation, toying with the pearl at her neck.

‘The King was very ill in the spring,’ Lord Parr began. ‘He did not leave his rooms for many weeks. He would call the Queen to him for company; her presence much comforted him. The talk turned often to matters of religion, as it does with the King. At that time, though, Bishop Gardiner had just returned from abroad, in high feather from his success in negotiating his new treaty with the Holy Roman Emperor Charles.’

‘And then I made my great mistake,’ the Queen said, quietly and sadly. ‘I have ridden high for three years, always careful in everything I have said. But I was overcome by the sin of vanity, and forgot I am a mere woman.’ She looked down again, lifting the pearl on the end of its golden chain and staring at it. ‘I argued with the King too forcefully, trying to persuade him to lift the ban on those of low rank reading the Bible. I told him that all need access to Christ’s Word if they are to be saved . . .’

‘Sadly,’ Lord Parr said, ‘her majesty went too far, and annoyed the King – ’

The Queen calmed herself, letting the pearl drop. ‘My greatest foolishness was to talk in such manner to the King once in the presence of Bishop Gardiner. After I left, the King told Gardiner – ’ she hesitated – ‘“So women are become clerks, and I am to be lectured by my wife in my old days.”’ I saw tears prick the corners of her eyes.

Cranmer explained. ‘We know this from one of the King’s body-servants who was present. And we know that Gardiner, like the ravening wolf he is, told the King that the Queen and her ladies were heretics; they had had men to preach in the Queen’s chambers during Lent who denied the bread and wine became the body and blood of Christ in the Mass, and who discussed forbidden books with them. Gardiner said such people were no better than Anabaptists, who would destroy royal rule.’

The Queen bowed her head. Lord Parr glanced at her, then continued. ‘But the King was suspicious of Gardiner. Ever since Cromwell fell, he has been wary of those who would whisper in his ear about heretic plots. And despite his anger that night, he loves the Queen; the last thing he would want is to lose her. Hold fast to that, niece, hold fast.’

‘But I have done dangerous things,’ she said. I frowned. I had always known she was a radical in religion, and wondered with a chill whether she had indeed become a sacramentarian. For a second I smelled the smoke at Smithfield again.

‘Your uncle is right,’ Cranmer said reassuringly. ‘The King loves you, for your goodness and the comfort you have brought him. Remember that, Kate, always.’ I thought, Kate? I had not known the Queen and the Archbishop were so close.

Lord Parr continued. ‘The King allowed Gardiner to search for evidence. And at the same time to order a general investigation into heresy throughout the country. He was worried already over the discontent caused by the price rises and the war – though, thanks be, God has led his majesty to see the sense of making peace.’ He looked again at his niece. ‘The Queen has loyal friends, and she was warned that searches were afoot. Any books that she or her ladies possessed, which Gardiner might twist as evidence to mean a supporter of heresy, were removed by me. And those who were questioned about discussions in the Queen’s chamber stayed loyal and said nothing incriminating.’ I wondered what those books had been. But any book with even a mildly Lutheran flavour could be used by Gardiner and his people.

The Queen spoke again. It was as though she had divined my thoughts. ‘There were no books of a heretical nature, and nothing forbidden was said in the King’s chambers. Though Gardiner set his dogs loose on my friends, my ladies, he came away empty-handed.’ So that was why they had seemed brittle, and why Lady Carew had been anxious about Duchess Frances’s mocking of Gardiner. ‘Even though the place-seekers on the Privy Council became his willing tools. Lord Chancellor Wriothesley, and a man you know well, who would be glad to see me burn: Richard Rich.’

I shifted uncomfortably on my chair. ‘It was through your protection of me last year that Rich became your enemy,’ I said quietly.

Cranmer shook his head. ‘No, Master Shardlake, Rich and Wriothesley saw the chance to rise in Bishop Gardiner’s wake, and that of the Duke of Norfolk, who is hand in glove with Gardiner, and they both took it. As the senior peer of the realm, the Duke would like to be Regent for Prince Edward, should anything happen to the King. Though I pray daily for Our Lord to preserve him many years.’ I remembered what I had seen from the window and saw from his face that Cranmer, man of faith as he was, had little hope those prayers would be answered.

Lord Parr took up the story again. ‘You see, if Gardiner and his people could bring down the Queen and those of her ladies associated with radicalism, that would mean the end for their husbands, too: Lord Lisle, Sir Anthony Denny, the Earl of Hertford – whose wife made that unpleasant remark about you outside—’

The Queen looked up angrily. ‘What has Anne Stanhope said now?’

I murmured, ‘It was nothing, your majesty.’

Lord Parr said, ‘She was discontented you sent the ladies out.’

‘She may talk like a good Christian, but she has no charity. I will not have it!’ For a moment the Queen sounded regal again, and I could not help but feel a little glow that it was mistreatment of me that had stirred her anger.

Lord Parr went on, ‘So you see, Gardiner and his people sought to attack the reformers on the council through their wives. But when the investigations in the Queen’s household found nothing, the King became angry; he divined that this was a deceitful plot to get him to change policy. And the rumours that Anne Askew had been tortured seemed to anger him, too.’

‘No rumours,’ I said. ‘I was at the burning. She could not stand, she was put to death sitting in a chair.’

‘We fear the torture was used to try and extract damaging information about the Queen. Though her majesty had never met the woman, Lady Hertford and Lady Denny had sent her money while she was in prison—’

‘Lest she starve!’ the Queen burst out. ‘It was charity, charity. Mistress Askew—’

‘Mistress Kyme,’ Cranmer corrected gently.

‘Mistress Kyme, then! That I may have been the cause of her torture . . .’ Tears had appeared at the corners of the Queen’s eyes again she who had always been so self-controlled. I thought, what must it have been like for her these last months, knowing she was under investigation, but unable to say anything; all the time trying to behave normally with the King. I saw she was at the end of her tether, in no condition even to tell her story without help.

‘We do not know that was the reason.’ Lord Parr placed a gnarled hand on his niece’s. ‘But in any event, it seems the King has now had enough. He was angry, too, that his friend George Blagge was sentenced to burn; he has pardoned him.’

Cranmer nodded agreement. ‘Gardiner’s plot has failed. The King decided it was time to cry, “Enough!”’ So that, I thought, explained Rich’s worried look at Smithfield. Perhaps it explained, too, why Cranmer felt it safe to come back to court now. With a wry smile he added, ‘And so he decided to teach the heresy hunters a lesson they would not forget.’ He looked at the Queen. She closed her eyes.

The Archbishop took a deep breath. ‘Three years ago, when Gardiner was after my head, hunting for heretics in my diocese, the King called me to see him. He said he had agreed that I should be examined by the Privy Council.’ The Archbishop paused, and his face worked: a memory of fear. He took a deep breath. ‘But his majesty told me the investigation into my diocese would be headed by me, and gave me his ring to present to the Privy Council to show I had his favour. Though not before he had frightened me by telling me he knew, now, who was the greatest heretic in Kent. Frightened me, warned me, but at the same time showed me I had his confidence.’ He paused. ‘And last week he used the same strategy with her majesty.’ Cranmer looked pointedly at the Queen.

She lifted her head. ‘I was called to the King’s private chamber. Near two weeks ago, on the third. What he said astounded me. He said quite directly that Gardiner and his friends had tried to make him believe wicked lies about me, but now he knew better. He was unaware that I knew what had passed. Or perhaps he did know, but said nothing; he can be so – ’ She broke off, fingering the pearl again, before resuming in strangely wooden tones. ‘He said his love for me was undiminished, and asked for my help in teaching Gardiner and Wriothesley a lesson. He said he would have articles drawn up for my arrest, and tell Wriothesley to take me into custody. But we would pretend a copy of the articles had fallen into my hands by accident. I would be heard crying out in despair, and he would come to comfort me.’ Her voice broke for a second and she swallowed hard. ‘So that is what we did.’ My heart beat hard with rage that the King should manipulate her so.