Betrayal (10 page)

             
"Cavendish, remove the child to the kitchen. See to it Brother James gives her a biscuit and a cup of milk."

             
Sarah clung to Elisabeth.  "There now, Sarah," Elisabeth said, "see, you did not do anything wrong. Go with Master Cavendish, I will join you shortly."

             
"Oh! But, why Elisabeth, why should the King be mad at you?" Sarah cried, clutching the skirt of Elisabeth's gray habit.

             
"Nonsense!" shouted the exasperated Cardinal.  "George, take the child so that I can get on with this."  Wolsey stood with his hands folded at his waist, rocking slightly on his heels.  His grim face gave no hint of what was to come.  As the heavy door closed he began to pace before the hearth, heedless that the hem of his clerical robes danced amidst the live coals.

             
"I have in my hand a letter from Westminster." He thrust out his left hand so that the parchment could be seen.  'It is His Grace's command that the woman, Elisabeth Beeton," he read, pausing for effect as he watched Elisabeth's stricken face, "accompany the child, Sarah de Roche to the home of the Viscount George Boleyn, Lord Rochford, in the city of Westminster, this day, to prepare to accompany the Lady Anne Boleyn to Hever in Kent.' The Cardinal paused to draw breath and continued "There, you will begin your service in the Lady's household. Sarah will continue in your care until her father leaves for Salisbury.  You will not return to York Place, but remain in permanent service to the Lady Anne."  The old man stopped, searched his pockets for a cloth and wiped his face.  "I fear I shall not be long in residence now." His head fell to his chest in a vain attempt to hide his tears.  "Much lies before us and all remains uncertain. My lord King holds me entirely responsible for the Pope's inaction." Wolsey's voice faded, as he became lost in thought.

             
"Forgive me, your Eminence," Brother Michael said hesitantly. "If Elisabeth is to be taken from my service, how am I to complete the Gospel as expected?"

             
"I think that is of little matter at the moment, considering the changes that will come.  Best lay your work safely aside and God willing we may yet see it come to fruition. Now, Brother, if you will excuse us, I must speak to Elisabeth in private.  Yes, thank you, Brother, we will not keep you from your work overlong. Here, girl, sit here by the hearth," he said directing her to a stool near his favorite chair. "Now I have been good to you, haven't I?"

             
"Oh yes, my lord, in all ways," Elisabeth replied meekly.

             
"I have need of you.  You go to serve my enemy and I must know you will not betray me.  You must promise to tell your new Mistress that I am her friend.  Had it been my doing you would be going to serve a Queen rather than a King's mistress. But, alas, the fool I serve in Rome fears to make a decision. He insists on testing.  He is reluctant to anger anyone, neither the King, Queen Catherine, nor her most powerful nephew, Charles.  He is the Holy Roman Emperor, you know.  So here we are.  You about to enter into dangerous service and I am about to lose everything I own, if not my head, through no fault of my own.  So, Elisabeth, it falls to you to remind your Lady of my past good deeds and bid her to hold out for a satisfactory response from Rome.  Can you do this for me, Elisabeth?" Wolsey raised his hand to his forehead, rubbing his brow, but this time making no attempt to hide his tears.

             
"But, surely my lord, you of all people have the King's ear. I am but a scribe and content to be such. He would listen to you, when you say I am needed here at York Place."

             
"Be quiet girl.  Did you not hear me?  The King has already taken Hampton Court from me and now he eyes York Place. Destiny demands we follow our paths, yours and mine.  Now leave me alone.  Go and pack, you leave for Westminster within the hour."

             
Elisabeth nodded dumbly, curtsied, and fled the library to find Cavendish outside. He stepped forward to enter the room but a touch of her hand on his sleeve stopped him. 

***

Elisabeth struggled under the weight of the two carpetbags she carried as she climbed into the back of the open wagon for the drive to Westminster. An excited and giggling Sarah awaited her, nestled in the sweet-smelling hay.  Elisabeth collapsed next to the child. Gathering Sarah into her arms, Elisabeth wondered if she would ever see York Place and its Cardinal again.

"You must be a good girl.  Remember your place and never stray from it."

The smiling tot nodded her head, setting her red-gold curls into a frenzied halo about her face.  "Yes, Elisabeth," she said soberly.  "But Henry, I mean the King," Sarah corrected as she dropped her chin to her chest in contrition. Her cheeks flushed as she anticipated Elisabeth's rebuke, then seeing none, she continued. "He'll be there, won't he?  I mean, he'll come to see me, won't he?"

"Truly, I do not know, for it is Saint Cecilia's Day and I am told there is to be a masque tonight."

The wagon trundled along the embankment.  Sarah grew pensive as she looked out over the river Thames; then looking back at Elisabeth asked, "Who is Saint Cecilia? And why is she to have a party?  Oh look, Elisabeth, look!  Is that the Palace?" The little girl exclaimed excitedly as she wiggled out of Elisabeth's embrace.  "Is that where we are going?"

"No, Sarah, we are quartered with the Lady Anne's brother, Lord Rochford. The Lady Anne's party of which we are part does not leave until the morrow.  Here, see, the wagon stops."  It had indeed stopped before a large stone cottage, the diamond shaped panes of window glass twinkling in the late afternoon sun. Hustling the wiggling child from the wagon Elisabeth slapped stray sticks of straw from Sarah's skirt, then beating her own gray habit she led the child to the side gate beside the cottage.

"The Lady Jane, Lady Rochford, awaits you in the hall. Make haste for my lady 'ates to wait for anyone, especially servants." The scullery maid who had introduced herself as Kate said, wiping her dirty hands on her stained homespun skirt.  Tucking a strand of greasy brown hair behind her ear, she looked Elisabeth over, her glance
displaying her disapproval.  Turning toward Sarah her mouth cracked a wide smile. Taking the child's hand in her own, she raised her forefinger to silence Sarah's giggles.

Elisabeth noticed the laces of the girl's bodice were undone. Blushing at the girl's immodesty Elisabeth followed the girl and Sarah when the Cook shouted “Not you Kate! Alys will take them through. To Elisabeth she explained that Alys was Lady Rochford’s maid.
The woman stepped forward and led the little party to the buttery screen. Elisabeth could hear loud and angry voices as they approached the screen.

"What do you mean we will not attend the masque tonight? We were invited and I intend to go," a woman's high-pitched voice called sharply.

Elisabeth heard heavy footsteps cross the paving stones of the hall.

"Be that as it may, we are not going." A man's strong baritone voice replied, stern and unmoving.  "My sister is not attending and neither are we."

Alys held a finger to her lips.  Elisabeth drew breath wondering what kind of a household she had come to.

"God's Bones!  That your sister is a coward and flees to Hever on the morrow has naught to do with me.  I serve the Queen," her voice suddenly became timid, "in a minor position, I admit, but I will take part in her ball," she finished, emphasizing the word, will.

"My word is final. We will not be attending the Palace tonight," the man said firmly.  "Go and see if Wolsey's servants have arrived. The old fool probably sent them to Greenwich," he finished, dismissing his wife from his presence.

Throwing her hands up in exasperation Lady Rochford made for the buttery screen. "How will I have everything ready for Anne's escape tomorrow?"

"You will, you always do.  Now, leave me for a while.  I must rethink our position at Court."

"Position at Court, you say, what position at Court?  Had your sister," she said derisively, "welcomed the King to her bed as her sister Mary has done before her, our position as Court would be secure."

"She would not be the King's whore as Mary has been nor would I ask it of her. And you, Mistress, will keep such thoughts to yourself, for if I ever hear you have spoken to Anne about this…" his voice trailed off as his wife disappeared behind the screen.

The maid-servant
pushed Elisabeth before her, while grabbing Sarah's hand. "Pardon m'lady, here be the tardy wenches,” she said dipping a deep curtsey.

             
Elisabeth flashed the girl an angry look.  "Yes, pardon, my lady.  We have only just arrived from York Place.  My lord Cardinal sends his greetings," Elisabeth said as she dipped a graceful bow, pleased to see Sarah execute a serene curtsey.

             
"Yes, yes, I can see that," Lady Rochford snapped.  Never at ease when addressing servants, Jane fumbled with the keys that hung from her waist; looking at Elisabeth's grey tick habit, she said sharply. "No-one told me that I was to house a disgraced nun.  The child is yours, I presume."

             
"Oh no, my lady," Elisabeth said holding her curtsey.  "Sarah is the daughter of John de Roche, a master mason in the employ of Cardinal Wolsey.  She comes at the invitation of the King.  As my lord Cardinal has placed her in my care, I am here to accompany her."

             
"Hmmph.  Alys, see these two to their room.  They will join Cook in the kitchen; see to it that they earn their keep.  My sister, the Lady Anne, returns from Court and will want an early start tomorrow.  Now, leave me," the thin shrew-faced woman growled turning her back on the servants.

             
Alys spun on her heel, escaping into the buttery, signaling Elisabeth and Sarah to follow quickly.

             
"Aye, she's a hard one," the girl said, now safely out of earshot.  "Best to mind what you say, better even, if you say nothing," the girl mumbled angrily as she led Elisabeth and Sarah up the narrow stone steps to a small chamber crowded with packing boxes in various states of disarray.  Elisabeth's eyes searched the room for a bed.  Finding none, she turned to Alys, who pointed to a pile of straw covered by a moth-eaten grey blanket.

             
"Aye, it's not much, but 'tis only for one night.  At least you be dry here." A sudden late summer storm had arisen and could be seen through the slender arrow-slit window.

             
Elisabeth flinched as a deafening clap of thunder broke overhead.

             
"Now, you heard m'lady. You’re to come to the kitchen to help," Alys said. Looking at Elisabeth's fine hands, she frowned.  "What good you'd be I doan't know. Still I will find something for you to do."

             
Elisabeth dropped the heavy carpetbags near the straw pallet. She looked around the chamber forlornly. It was a far cry from her room at York Place, with its cheerful fireplace and mullioned windows. Sarah stood by Elisabeth's side, her big blue eyes clouded with tears.  Elisabeth took the child's hand as she slipped to her knees beside the pallet.  "It is not so bad, the straw is clean and it is only for tonight.  On the morrow we leave on our grand adventure to Kent and the Lady Anne's home."

             
The child nodded eagerly as she nuzzled close beneath Elisabeth's chin. Elisabeth rocked Sarah gently in her arms, willing God to send her the strength to face whatever lay ahead.

NINE

SATURDAY, JUNE 28
TH

             
The early morning rain beat an angry tattoo against the windowpane. The accompanying gusts of wind rattled the glass in the old wooden frame awaking Lydia from a heavy sleep.

             
A sudden flash of bright white light blinded her momentarily as she struggled to sit up in bed.  She had taken a sleeping pill at midnight after a recurrence of the dream. Groggily she tried to wipe the sleep from her eyes. A deafening rumble of thunder sent her twisting around to find Dan, but his side of the bed was empty. The sky crackled with lightning. A piercing boom sent her rushing from the room.  She ran to the living room, but it too was empty. She stared vacantly at the sofa trying to make sense of it.

             
The keening wind in the chimney sent a chill down her spine, driving her to find a place to sit down.  She gripped the arm of the chair willing her rising panic to subside. The storm was directly overhead; the flashes of lightning intermingling with booming claps of thunder frightened her.  She drew a pillow close to her chest. She felt her chest tighten as she struggled to control her rapid breathing. To Lydia, it seemed the storm lasted an eternity, but soon it passed onward.