Rivals in the Tudor Court (39 page)

BOOK: Rivals in the Tudor Court
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I draw in another breath. “And all the while, even as I hated you I loved you, Thomas, God knows how much.” I shake my head. “I followed you everywhere you allowed me to go; I'd have gone to the very depths of Hell with you.” I offer a rueful smile. “I believe I did on one or two occasions.” The smile fades. “But you made it irrefutably clear that I was not your chosen accompaniment. So I found another way. If I couldn't have you, I would have my revenge—in denying you your divorce, I would keep you from the person I thought you wanted most.” I offer a bitter laugh. “But it was the wrong person. For all your love of her, for all the desire that had you running mad, it was never Bess who could claim your heart. No, in that, God was truly cruel. Your greatest love was delivered in forbidden form—your ‘princess' reborn in your own daughter Mary.”
Thomas is silent a long moment. At last he draws in a wavering breath. “You knew it, too.” His voice is just above a whisper.
“I've known since you were ill with the sweat, when you called her name above all others.” I look away, unable to bear the tears that are now streaming down his craggy cheeks.
“It was not unholy.” His voice is so thick with sadness that my eyes are once again riveted to him. “It was not . . . I would never—”
“Oh, Thomas, I know that,” I tell him in soft tones. I draw in a breath. “It is a strange thing, the human heart, this chaotic heart that lusts and yearns and envies. It is immune to logic. There is no sense of right or wrong. It keeps its own counsel; the paths it travels are secret, sometimes even to the mind that claims dominion over it. It goes where it will and we can only rein it in with the commandments set by God and the laws put down by men.” I gaze at him pointedly. “We put the limits on one another. We draw the boundaries. But those boundaries and limits serve to protect only what is physical. Nothing can curb the emotions; nothing can stop the raging torment in the soul. And that torment raged in all of us. How we suffered for it . . . but, Thomas, I think you suffered most of all.”
“Oh, Elizabeth,” Thomas whispers, sitting up and placing his hand on my cheek. I look into his face and cannot find in it the savage old man of so many years past. He is the knight who won the day at the joust, the man whose power and energy surged through my twelve-year-old hand and into my woman's heart when he danced with me. He is the father of my children, the man I am fated to spend my eternity with because I would be nowhere else. For all that he was, for all that he is, for all that he can never be, he is mine. I am glad he is mine.
“Do you know why you were hardest to love?” he asks me then.
I shake my head.
“Because you were me,” he whispers.
“That's strange,” I tell him, touching his face in turn. “Because that was the very reason I loved you.”
“Always at odds,” he says.
“Always.”
He draws me to him, pressing his lips to mine, and I yield, wrapping my arms about his neck, tracing his strong shoulders, stroking his thick silvery hair. For a long moment we cling to each other thus, lost in the passion that has always served as our catalyst for destruction and delight.
When at last we part, I rise and dip into a curtsy. “Good-bye, Thomas Howard,” I tell him.
“Good-bye, my lady wife,” he says. Then, to my retreating back he says, “Elizabeth.”
I turn.
His face is filled with the words; it is all there, naked, assailable, raw. He parts his lips. My heart catches in my throat, racing in anticipation. Still he does not say it.
“I know,” I whisper at last.
And I leave him.
He does not die in my arms but leaves this world clinging to the hand of his steward, George Holland, Bess's brother. I am told only a single word left his lips as he succumbed to his mortality:
Princess.
When the will is read and I am predictably excluded, I do not protest. Mary is provided for and thanked for her appeals in trying to secure his release from the Tower, and the grandchildren are provided for. And little Jane Goodman is awarded one hundred pounds for her upbringing and marriage.
He did not have to leave me anything. He knew well his death would afford me my life to live as my own at last. I can ask for nothing more.
At his interment, I stand by the grand effigy that lies upon his sarcophagus. I run my hand along the collar of medallions that graces its neck where is carved Thomas's motto,
“Gratia Dei, sum quod sum!”
By the Grace of God, I am what I am.
He was just that.
Norfolk House
Jane Goodman, Winter 1555
A
great lady is coming to see me today, the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk. I am beside myself with curiosity and excitement. Could it be I am being called to attend her? I am told to be on my best behavior. My foster brother William warns me I must not betray my stupidity. I hope I succeed—I am a hopelessly stupid girl and cannot bear the thought of disgracing myself.
I wear my best gown, a sumptuous pink damask affair trimmed with ivory lace; it was from my good aunt Bess Holland, who left me everything after she died. How much do I miss her! I did not know her well. I was but five when she passed. But I remember her laugh—her beautiful, rippling laugh. And her softness. I loved to sit on her lap and cuddle with her.
At fourteen, I do not fill out the gown as I imagine my curvaceous aunt must have. I am diminutive in stature and slim as a willow wand. My black hair cascades down my back in thick waves. I stare down my reflection in the glass. I wish I didn't have such deep black eyes. Obsidian, William calls them. Colorless, I call them—I always wanted blue eyes or green. I shrug. I suppose I am pretty enough. Many say I will be a stunning beauty when I am older, so I take comfort in that.
I enter the parlor to meet the duchess, who is seated before the fire. She is a woman of extraordinary beauty and grace, and as I dip into my practiced curtsy, I begin to tremble.
All color drains from her face when her gaze falls upon me. She closes her eyes and draws in a deep breath. “Sit, Jane,” she tells me in low tones.
I obey, arranging my gown about my feet and hoping I do not appear a grand fool.
“Do you know who I am?” she asks me.
“Yes,” I say. “You are the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk.”
“Indeed,” she says. “Now. Do you know who you are?”
The question confounds me. “God's body, of course I know who I am!” I cry, unable to contain my annoyance. “I am Jane Goodman!” I am stunned by my bold response and clamp a hand over my mouth. “Meaning no disrespect, my lady,” I say, hoping to redeem myself. “It's just that I do not understand.”
She laughs and shakes her head. She reaches into the pocket of her red velvet gown and holds out a signet ring that bears a mighty lion with its tongue pierced through by an arrow. “Do you know who owned this ring?”
I shake my head.
“This ring belonged to your father,” she tells me.
“Oh, no,” I say, admiring it. “He could never own a ring so fine.”
“The duke of Norfolk loved fine things,” she informs me.
It takes me a long moment to digest what she is telling me. When the duchess sees that I comprehend her implication, she goes on.
“But one of the finest by far was your mother, Bess Holland,” she says. Tears light her penetrating blue eyes. For a moment she averts her head.
“My lady . . .” I murmur, unsure of what to say, what to do, what to feel.
I knew I was a fosterling. I accepted the story the Goodmans told me about my parents dying of plague when I was a wee girl. Yet did I? As I sift through my racing emotions, I begin to realize I did not. That somewhere, in a deep place I never acknowledged, I had always known I belonged to the Howards in a way that could not be explained. I have no logic to support the thought. A memory stirs, ancient, a woman holding me, telling me in a tiny voice, “I am Bess Holland . . . I am your mother, and the great duke of Norfolk is your father. . . .” These words could never have been spoken, not really. It is some wild fantasy I have convinced myself of as reality. And yet it is true. It has always been true. And I knew it.
The duchess faces me once more. Her strong countenance reveals a woman who has learned to endure and prevail over the greatest obstacles. Admiration surges through me as I regard her.
“You will tell me of them?” I ask her as tears begin to warm my eyes. I allow them to fall unchecked down my cheeks. I slide from my chair to the floor and sit at her feet.
She smiles. “Yes,” she says. “I will tell you of them. I will tell you of them and of your cunning cousin, Anne Boleyn. I will tell you of your other cousin, the beautiful Kitty Howard, and of your sweet sister Mary. I will tell you of the kings and queens from whom you descend.” She reaches out and takes my hand, then slides the signet ring upon my middle finger. It is weighty with history. “Today, Jane, you will know all. Some of it is far from pleasant, but I have avowed to always speak the truth. Can you appreciate that?”
“With all my heart,” I tell her with fervency.
And so she begins.
Further Reading
Elton, G. R.
England Under the Tudors,
Third Edition. London: Routledge, 1991.
Elton, G. R.
The Tudor Constitution: Documents and Commentary
, Second Edition. Cambridge University Press, 1995.
Hackett, Francis.
Henry the Eighth
. Garden City, NY: Garden City Publishing Co., 1931.
Head, David M.
The Ebbs and Flows of Fortune: The Life of Thomas Howard, Third Duke of Norfolk
. Athens, GA: University of Georgia Press, 1995.
Hutchinson, Robert.
The Last Days of Henry VIII: Conspiracy, Treason, and Heresy at the Court of the Dying Tyrant
. New York: William Morrow, 2005.
Loades, David M.
Two Tudor Conspiracies
, Second Edition. Bangor, Wales: Headstart History Publishing, 1992.
Nott, George Frederick, D.D., F.S.A.
The Works of Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey, and of Sir Thomas Wyatt the Elder,
2 vols. New York: AMS Press Inc., 1965.
Warnicke, Retha M.
The Rise and Fall of Anne Boleyn: Family Politics at the Court.
Cambridge University Press, 2004.
Weir, Alison.
Henry VIII: The King and His Court
. New York: Ballantine Books, 2001.
A READING GROUP GUIDE
RIVALS IN THE TUDOR COURT
D. L. Bogdan
ABOUT THIS GUIDE
The suggested questions are included to enhance your group's reading of D. L. Bogdan's
Rivals in the Tudor Court.
DISCUSSION QUESTIONS
1.
Explain Thomas Howard's descent of character. What were the key factors in his life that contributed to his moral and spiritual decline? Did he ever redeem himself?
2.
Is there anything in this novel that supports the theory of nature vs. nurture? Was Thomas's nature predetermined genetically or was he solely a product of his environment?
3.
Elizabeth, as a sufferer of domestic violence, was ahead of her time in that she reached out to several sources for help, including Privy Seal Cromwell. Was she a heroine or a victim? Did she have any real allies in her life?
4.
Catherine of Aragon seemed to be a consistent source of contention in Thomas and Elizabeth's marriage. Compare and contrast Elizabeth's and Thomas's relationships with this formidable woman.
5.
Throughout the story, Thomas and Elizabeth's relationship undergoes many changes. Note the turning points in their marriage. Did they love each other?
6.
Compare and contrast Thomas's attitude before and after he attained the title duke of Norfolk.
7.
Bess Holland's position as mistress and servant is not an unusual one for the times. Why did she stay? Did she love Thomas?
8.
Bess also undergoes changes in character throughout the novel. Did she become stronger or weaker?
9.
Compare and contrast Thomas's relationships with Anne Boleyn and Catherine Howard. Did he love either of his nieces?
10.
Did the women in this story, Bess, Elizabeth, and Mary Howard, do the right thing by testifying against Thomas at his trial?
11.
The novel focuses on some mystical elements, touching on reincarnation in the subplot involving Princess Anne Plantagenet and Norfolk's daughter Mary Howard. Do you believe in reincarnation? Why do you think the author chose to portray this subplot this way?
12.
Compare and contrast Thomas's relationship with his first wife and family as opposed to his second.
13.
Did Thomas love Henry VIII or was the king simply a channel for his ambition?
14.
Did Thomas's time in the Tower change him in any fundamental ways?
15.
Did Thomas and Elizabeth find forgiveness for each other by the novel's end or was it merely a deathbed truce?
16.
What is the relevance of Thomas's signet ring for him, Elizabeth, and Bess?

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