The Jewels of Warwick (27 page)

 

 

She shook her head. "You are playing a dangerous game, Amethyst."
Topaz rose and rubbed her hands together. The air was growing chilly
in the unheated chapel.

 

 

"Nay, it is you whose head will be on the block if you persist in
this folly."

 

 

"I know you mean well, but I can't do anything else."

 

 

She gripped her sister's hand hard. "Yes you can. You can give up
this overweening ambition of yours before it costs you dearly."

 

 

Topaz shook her head. "It is already in motion. I can't back out
now."

 

 

"When is your great rebellion going to take place?" she asked almost
mockingly.

 

 

Topaz shot her sister a look of perplexity. "I cannot tell you that.
'Tis not going to be on the morrow, that's all I can say. I must
wait until the timing is just right, when the King is at his most
vulnerable. Then I shall proceed."

 

 

"You are the one inviting danger, Topaz! You are endangering the
lives of your sons as well as both of ours! You have signed your own
death warrant already. The King does not take you seriously now, but
once your rebellion begins to materialize, you will not last one
day. Either way, it would tear the country apart, shed rivers of
innocent blood, and ruin more lives than you would ever salvage as
queen."

 

 

Topaz stiffened and rose from her seat."We shall see. But I am doing
what I feel is right for this kingdom. This is your last chance.
Will you return home with me or not?"

 

 

She shook her head. "Nay. I am going nowhere with you. Even if I had
any sympathy for your cause, which I do not, to travel back with you
would make it look as though I supported your actions. I can't
afford guilt by association and if you will not change your mind and
give up this disastrous course of action, I have no choice but to
shift for myself as best I can here at court with Henry."

 

 

Topaz rose to her full height and swept past her, down the aisle.
Her palm flattened against the chapel door, she paused long enough
to hiss, "Very well, then. Then this is farewell, for I doubt we
shall ever see each other again upon this earth!"

 

 

With that she was gone in a whoosh of green like the furious
whirlpool of the ebb tide swirling out of the Thames. The door
slammed shut behind her.

 

 

Amethyst did not let Topaz's theatrics affect her. Topaz could never
bid her own sister farewell in such a flippant way. As she sat there
with her mind spinning with all she had discovered, Amethyst found
herself wishing the King had returned unexpectedly. He could have
talked Topaz out of this madness; she knew he could. He could even
get her to like him; that was the beauty of Henry's charm.

 

 

As she returned to her chambers, she realized this would be a bad
time to visit home. If Topaz's rebellion were to take place any time
soon, Henry would surely hold Amethyst partly responsible, even
though her return home had nothing to do with Topaz or her insane
plans.

 

 

So she stayed on, trying to make the best of what she did share with
Henry, and waiting to see what the Pope's next move would be. And
her sister's…

 

 

 

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

 

 

Hampton Court Palace

 

 

The divorce trial was suspended until October, further frustrating
Henry and Amethyst. Catherine, as smugly as her position would
allow, and in her mind, remained Queen.

 

 

On the advice of Henry's council, and because Henry simply could no
longer rely on him, Wolsey was arrested for treason. He never made
it to the Tower. He died almost immediately after being seized.

 

 

Cardinal Wolsey was gone, and Hampton Court Palace, with all its
splendid gardens, mazes and rich furnishings, now belonged to the
King in its entirety. Court was being held here, and Amethyst was
given apartments much closer to the King's chambers, but still not
adjoining, as she'd requested. The Boleyns, permanent fixtures now,
had apartments at the opposite end of the palace.

 

 

One day Henry told her, "I am bringing the case before the
universities of Europe and soliciting their advice. A theologian at
Cambridge, Thomas Cranmer, came up with the idea. He believes the
weighty consideration of many clerics upon the question will sway
the Pope," the King told her on their first full night in residence
at Hampton Court. "I was at my wits' end, at the complete end of the
road. Cranmer is a godsend."

 

 

"Mayhap this is finally our answer, my lord," she said, unbuttoning
his linen undershirt and brushing her fingers over his broad chest,
as she always loved to do.

 

 

"I am overjoyed that another answer has come at last," he replied,
his breath coming more deeply as she aroused him. "I only wish I had
been the one to think of it."

 

 

"You may be potent, my lord, but you are not omnipotent," she
teased.

 

 

"Only you can make me realize that, my lady," he said, as she
wrapped her arms around him.

 

 

"So how long do you think it will be?" she asked, through his
kisses.

 

 

"Please, Amethyst, don't talk. Just make love." His breath was hot
against her neck, but she managed to push him away.

 

 

"And why is Anne Boleyn still here? I thought you were sending her
back to...wherever she came from."

 

 

"Anne...who? Oh, God's foot, I've forgotten all about her!"

 

 

"Well, she hasn't forgotten all about you. On that last hunting trip
you took, she asked just about every courtier in sight when you
would be back."

 

 

"So, perhaps she has a liking for me," he said with a shrug.

 

 

"And do you have a liking for her?" Amethyst demanded waspishly, as
she held herself back from his kisses now.

 

 

Henry glared. "Are you accusing me of a dalliance with her?"

 

 

She shook her head. "Nay, but it would be much more comfortable if
she would just go home."

 

 

She could feel the swell of his desire shrink with every passing
second. Damnation, why had she not held her tongue. He looked around
the room, and she knew he was looking for a goblet of wine.

 

 

"Just tell me!" She gripped his forearms, the pads of her fingertips
yielding to hard muscle. "What is she to you?"

 

 

"Nothing!" He shook her hands off and ran his fingers through his
thinning, but still very golden red hair. "You can shrink the most
throbbing male member to a sheer mushroom cap, do you know that? You
have completely obliterated any tinge of desire in my body by your
incessant whining about this bloody divorce, and now Anne...what's
her name!"

 

 

"You well know what her name is, and until your great matter is
settled and she is in a litter on her way back up the River Styx,
you shall not touch me!"

 

 

"Wench!" he spat, frantically searching for something to hurl
against the wall.

 

 

Without another word, she returned her chambers to pack—for good
this time, she insisted as she stormed out the door.

 

 

Warwick Castle

 

 

Amethyst and Matthew were walking around the grounds of her beloved
home. She hadn't heard a word from Henry since her departure six
weeks before, but Matthew had been extremely pleased at her arrival
back home. "This is where you belong," he'd said.

 

 

She felt deep down in her heart that Henry would be back for her.
The tension brought about by the divorce had been taking its toll on
their health, causing Henry to overeat to the point of sickness. But
once he calmed down…

 

 

"Oh, Matthew, you were right, 'tis good to be home!" She gazed
wistfully at the castle, its towers proudly jutting into the sky
sporting erect crenellations. They strolled across the Pageant Field
and headed for the Peacock Gardens.

 

 

"I miss the King so, but perhaps with me away from court, he will be
more able to concentrate on getting this matter resolved, and then I
know it will happen much faster!"

 

 

An unsettling thought trampled upon her once more, as it had
pervaded her mind during the entire journey home—Topaz would be
arriving tonight. She was visiting the local shires distributing
alms to the poor, and making her rounds of "house calls," caring for
sick animals along the way. But she would be back, and then what?

 

 

"Matthew, I am so sorry the turn your marriage to Topaz took."

 

 

"'Twas simply one of those things, Amethyst." He spoke lightly; she
did not detect any hint of remorse. That tone of sadness that
rendered a voice ragged was simply not there.

 

 

"We have completely different outlooks on life, on what is good for
the kingdom, on who should be on the throne." He turned to look down
at her, and the sunlight glinted off his hair, which had turned to
platinum in the brilliant gleam. The breeze tousled his hair,
sending his sharp woodsy scent through her head. His jaw was
relaxed, his facial muscles pleasantly slackened as he took his ease
with her. It was the happiest she had ever seen him.

 

 

"Shall we sit?" he suggested.

 

 

"Aye."

 

 

They'd reached the edge of the Peacock Gardens and a few of the
birds were lazily basking in the sun.

 

 

They sat upon the grass rather than a bench and she lifted her face
to the sun.

 

 

"The truth is, I am not sure she ever loved me, Amethyst. She never
told me so."

 

 

She recalled her conversation with her sisters the night before
Topaz had married him. She could never tell Matthew about Topaz's
breezily selfish reasons for marrying him. That would hurt him
terribly.

 

 

So she said instead, "Topaz doesn't show her deeper emotions easily.
She has always kept a distance from others, even when we were
growing up. She was usually off on her own, studying or attending to
her pets, as if she didn't belong to the family. Especially when
Warwick Castle became ours again, she became more defiant than ever,
calling the King a hypocrite. Her lifelong passion is to reign as
Queen and to rule the realm according to her beliefs. It doesn't
leave room for much else, least of all love."

 

 

"I daresay she is a devoted mother. Those lads have everything they
could ever want; the best tutors, the finest clothes, toys and
ponies and pets galore, but she never gives herself to them totally,
as she's never given herself to me. She only went so far, and up
went the wall I could never penetrate. Perhaps it is not love that
she needs as most of us do."

 

 

"Nay, Matthew. We all need love. I need it, you need it, God knows
even the King of England needs it. But Topaz was always above that.
Her heritage is her passion. I've never told anyone this, Matthew,
but... Well, the truth is that part of me wants so badly for her to
succeed, because I can see why she believes so strongly. I love my
father, although I never knew him. But of course, Henry is our King
and so will be his son.

 

 

"'Tis a terrible feeling I harbor every time I'm with the King. It's
as if Topaz is looking over me, chiding me, like I'm betraying her.
I want to be queen, but his queen? I dread to think of what Topaz
will do when Henry and I finally do marry and I take the place she's
always wanted for herself. I don't want to be queen as much as I
want to be his wife."

 

 

"Well, your being queen consort will not be much of a threat. In
fact, it makes perfect political sense compared to him marrying any
other woman in the realm."

 

 

She frowned. "But that's not why he and I–"

 

 

"I now. You're a gift in your own right. 'Tis not as if you are
trying to become queen in your own right, as she is. She tried to
convince me," Matthew said, plucking some clover from the ground,
twirling it in his fingers. "But I believe if your father had meant
to be king instead of Henry Tudor, 'twould have happened that way.
But it was fated to happen the way it did. Best to leave it in the
hands of God."

 

 

"Aye, I'd heard my father had been a simple-minded man. He might not
have been a good monarch at all."

 

 

"So few are."

 

 

"Or just a puppet to his minister and we would have ended up with
yet another civil war with all manner of candidates trying to put
forward their own claims."

 

 

"Aye."

 

 

"Do you believe Topaz would be? A good queen, I mean?" she asked,
for the first time, really challenging Matthew to dig into his
conscience.

 

 

"I believe she would make a fitting queen, Amethyst. She carries
herself royally, she possesses strength and a willful nature that
few of us have. Her ideas are radical, the changes she proposes
would be sweeping. But not now. She was born too soon, much too
soon. This simply is not her century; it is not her time. England is
not ready for a queen like Topaz. I just do not know why she cannot
see that."

 

 

"She will, Matthew. It will take a rebellion and a failure for her
to see that the natural course of history will not accelerate
because of the actions of one woman from Warwickshire."

 

 

"So tell me more of this Nan Bullen anyway, speaking of mysterious
women," Matthew said. "You told me the Boleyn family had managed to
get themselves court appointments, but that is all."