by Alison Weir
“And you have never put a stop to that?”
“My lord, you must know him. He is intimidating, and I do not like to cross swords with him too often. It is my house, and I like it to be a peaceful one.”
“You know that he is close to the Lady Elizabeth, and that she thinks well of him?” Gardiner’s eyes were like steel.
“I did not know that. He is most secretive about his affairs.”
Paget leaned forward. He had been making notes while they had been speaking. “Your servant, Florence of Diaceto, returned from overseas just as the rebellion was breaking out. He had on him letters and a token from the King of Denmark, who is a Lutheran and suspected of trying to aid the rebels. Madam, do you deny that you sent your servant to him for that very purpose?”
“I do indeed! This is nonsense. The late King Edward sent him. I do not know what his mission was.”
“So he was not acting on your behalf?”
“No.” She held Paget’s gaze, reminding herself to warn Florence of what was being said about him.
Gardiner returned to the attack. “We have reason to believe the King of France may make war on England because he desires to prevent the Queen’s marriage to the Prince of Spain. Madam, can you tell me any other reason why King Henri would wish to make war on England?”
Anna was bewildered. “I have no idea why you are asking me this, my lord.”
“Could it be because the Lady Elizabeth asked him to obtain revenge on behalf of the Duke of Cleves for King Henry’s repudiation of your Highness?”
Anna gaped. “That’s ludicrous! Why would she do that? I was divorced fourteen years ago, and I have never borne any grudge about it. Always, I have tried to preserve the amity between England and Kleve.”
“We believe the Lady Elizabeth hoped to incite the Protestant German princes to turn their forces against England and so abet the rebels, which would aid her in seizing the throne.”
“And you think I asked her to do it? My lords, this is ridiculous!”
“The Council does not think so, nor the Spanish ambassador. The Lady Elizabeth’s plea to the Duke of Cleves, on your behalf, suggests that you were complicit, and probably active, in the plot.”
Anna fought off despair. “I have no knowledge of these affairs!” she protested. “I have had no contact with the Lady Elizabeth since the coronation.”
Gardiner and Paget looked unperturbed. Paget reached into his scrip and handed her a letter. “Read this, Madam. It is from the Emperor himself, stating that you were the author of this conspiracy and incited the Lady Elizabeth to act as intermediary. It was at your request that the King of France promised the Duke of Cleves to avenge the perceived wrongs done to you and him.”
Anna read the letter, fury mounting. “What wrongs?” she demanded. “The late King Henry was good to me. Our marriage was dissolved for sound reasons; I never contested them.”
“And yet you recently petitioned the Council to have it declared valid, for your personal gain. Madam, your duplicity is clear.”
“I acted on the advice of my brother’s ambassador. He told me it would secure my dower rights and solve my financial problems, and that whether or not the marriage was valid was no longer important.” Gardiner made to speak, but Anna raised her hand to silence him. “My lords, I am telling the truth. Aside from worrying over money, I have been contented in England. I bear no grudge for the dissolution of my marriage, nor ever have done. I have no desire to involve myself in public matters. Why would I jeopardize the favor Queen Mary shows to me?”
“You might if the Lady Elizabeth promised to be even more generous,” Paget said softly.
“I would have said no, most firmly.”
Gardiner sighed. “So you deny it all?”
“Of course. I am the Queen’s loyal subject, and will ever remain so.”
They stood up. “Very well, Madam. We will report your answers to the Queen.”
“Pray give her Majesty my love and duty,” Anna said, rising to show them out, and hoping her legs would carry her.
When they had gone, she leaned back against the door, trembling, and waiting for her beating heart to still. Would the Queen believe her? Dear God, she prayed so.
Chapter 28
1554–1556
There followed days of anxiety. Anna could barely focus on anything, so great was her fear. It was as if all normal life had been suspended until she could be assured that she had a future.
“They can prove nothing against me, for there is nothing to prove,” she murmured against Otho’s chest as he held her close one night.
“You are so tense,” he said, kneading her shoulder muscles.
“Is it any wonder? I just wish I could have some word from the Queen, to show she believes me. I would not lose her favor for anything.”
“I think, if she believed that you had plotted against her, you would have heard by now.” He kissed the top of her head. “She must realize it was all nonsense.”
“You’re probably right. At the very least, she would have stopped my allowance. But she has just sent money to supplement my servants’ wages, as King Henry did. I doubt she would have done that if I was still under suspicion. I just wish she would invite me to court, so I can see for myself that all is well between us.”
But wish as she might, no invitation arrived. Nor was there any response to Anna’s plea to have her marriage declared valid. Still she was listless, finding it hard to take an interest in anything. She was aware that her servants were taking advantage of her detachment from daily affairs, and subverting Jasper’s efforts to make them economize, but she could not rouse herself to reprove them, or to heed his protests. She could not rid herself of the dread and fear that dominated her waking hours and stalked her dreams.
* * *
—
In the second week of March, Sir John entered the still room and told Anna that Sir Thomas Cawarden had not only been released from house arrest, but was back at court, and in favor too.
“He has resumed his official duties,” he related. “He is ever the opportunist. He is diverting the Queen from her troubles by staging plays for her disport and recreation.”
“Are we to assume he has now turned Catholic?” Anna asked drily, pounding herbs in a mortar.
“He will always be a diehard Protestant, Madam, but I suspect he means to live to plot another day. My advice is to steer clear of him.”
“That is what I intend to do,” she declared. “In fact, I am about to give the order to remove to Dartford. I was going to go to Westhorpe, but Sir Thomas Cornwallis has offered me a goodly sum for it, which will make me solvent for at least the foreseeable future. Jasper says I should keep the house and rent it out, but I have three other houses already.”
“Either way, you would raise money, Madam.”
“Well, I will think on it. Is there any news of the Lady Elizabeth?”
“Yes, Madam. She is in the Tower, being questioned about her part in the rising.”
Anna froze. “Why?” She heard her voice quaver. “What is she supposed to have done?”
“Incited Wyatt to rebel, I hear. But apparently there is no proof. One of the councillors, who is secretly her friend, told me they dare not deal with her too harshly, being aware that she might one day be queen.”
Anna was trembling. “Surely the Queen will not execute her own sister?”
“I doubt it will come to that. There is talk of her being kept under house arrest.”
* * *
—
In trepidation, Anna wrote to Wilhelm, confiding to him how she had come under suspicion, and her fears that she might yet be implicated in whatever crimes Elizabeth was thought to have committed. A week later, she was filled with inexpressible relief to see Dr. Cruser at her door, although it was hard to tell from his expression whether
he brought good news or bad.
She took him into the garden, for they were enjoying a spell of warm spring weather, and she did not want their conversation to be overheard.
“Is there any word from the Duke?” she asked.
“My lady,” Dr. Cruser said, “there is nothing to fear. The Duke understands your situation, and will protect you. I have just delivered the most tactful letter from him to the Queen herself, in which he thanks her Majesty for the great kindness she has shown you, and congratulates her, on behalf of you both, on suppressing the recent rebellion. From which, Madam, she cannot but deduce that the Duke holds you for her true and loyal subject—and that, were that to be doubted, he would not be a bystander.”
Anna exhaled, much eased in her mind. This was comfort indeed. “I cannot tell you how much my brother’s support means to me. To have my loyalty doubted, without cause, has been a great trial to me. I have lived in fear these past weeks.”
“You need fear no more, Madam,” Dr. Cruser said, his eyes kindly. “The Queen spoke most pleasantly of you. I gained absolutely no impression that she doubts your friendship, or bears you any rancor.”
“Oh, that is good to hear!” Anna cried. She could have wept with relief. “Tell me, how is my brother?”
“He is in health, Madam, but he is grieving. Alas, it is my melancholy duty to tell you that your sister, the Electress, and her husband, the Elector of Saxony, have both died. They succumbed to the same illness within ten days of each other.”
“Oh, my poor sister,” Anna faltered, stunned. She had not seen Sybilla in seventeen years, but the bonds of blood were strong, and she had always rejoiced that Sybilla had found love in her marriage. That love was legendary, so it was not surprising that the one could not live without the other. It was tragic that their reunion after the Elector’s long imprisonment had been so brief.
She rose and led the way back to the house, dabbing her eyes. “You must sup with us, and stay overnight,” she told Dr. Cruser. As they passed through the downstairs rooms to the stairs, she saw him taking in his surroundings, and realized that the place was looking untidy and none too clean. She really must impose better order on her servants.
At supper, not wishing Dr. Cruser to think she was letting things go, she wore a black velvet gown furred with ermine, like a queen’s. But he was plain with her.
“Madam, it is clear to me that you need someone with authority to govern your servants. Mr. Carew is ineffectual as a steward, as he has too many other duties. Herr Brockhausen tells me you do not listen to his advice, and that you are too lenient with your household.”
“I have been somewhat preoccupied by my troubles,” she admitted, “but I will make amends.”
“Get a good man to run your house,” Dr. Cruser advised, “and don’t sell Westhorpe. Herr Brockhausen’s counsel is wise, and you would do well to heed it.”
“I shall, my friend,” Anna promised.
The next day, she asked Sir John if he knew of anyone who would make a suitable governor for her household, and he recommended that she approach the Council. In May, they appointed George Throckmorton, a kinsman of the late Queen Katharine, who had been at court serving Queen Mary as a gentleman pensioner. Anna liked him, and he was tactful yet firm with her servants. Having shaken off her melancholy, she took care to keep a watchful eye on how her house was being run, and was glad to see it looking cleaner and in better order.
After Dr. Cruser left for Kleve, Anna retreated to Hever. She had resolved to spend her time in the country, and attend solely to domestic affairs. She would make sure that no one could ever again suspect her of treason.
Yet even in this peaceful place, the world intruded. In July, the Queen married the Prince of Spain in a lavish ceremony in Winchester Cathedral. Anna was not invited, which made her wonder if Mary still entertained doubts about her loyalty.
She could not bear to think it. She wrote to Queen Mary, congratulating her on her marriage and sending her humble commendations. She prayed the Queen would continue to show favor to her, as she desperately needed assistance in paying her servants’ wages, and assured her that she desired to wait on her at her pleasure. Having wished the royal couple much joy and the blessing of children, she waited tensely for some sign that Mary still loved her.
Anna clutched the package bearing the royal seal to her breast. The Queen had sent her five thousand pounds, proof, if she had needed it, that she was restored to favor. Her heart was ready to burst with relief.
* * *
—
It was now December, and four months since she had heard from the Queen. Unwillingly, she was coming to the conclusion that, while Mary had done her duty by her financially, she was not ready to fully extend the hand of friendship. Life, Anna reflected, could be deeply unfair, for she had done nothing to deserve this.
She sighed, and dragged her mind back to the present. Mr. Carew had just complained that Sir Thomas Cawarden had defaulted on paying this quarter’s rent for Bletchingley. Irritated, Anna picked up her quill and dashed off a stern letter, reminding Sir Thomas that his rent was nearly three months overdue, and she expected it to be paid before she departed for Penshurst for Christmas.
The money arrived tardily, on the very day she had planned to depart. The man was impossible! And yet she could not rid herself of him. He was a powder keg waiting to explode, and seemed not to care about the dangers he courted. Queen Mary might have begun her reign in a spirit of religious tolerance, but, in the wake of Wyatt’s rebellion, she had taken a harder line. The Protestant faith had been outlawed. Only last month, England had formally been reconciled to Rome, and Parliament had reinstated the old law against heresy. Mary, it was clear, meant to eradicate all trace of religious dissent from her realm. From now on, relapsed heretics were to be burned at the stake.
Shuddering at the thought, Anna fervently hoped that Sir Thomas would keep his religious views to himself in future, for his own sake and the sake of those connected with him.
* * *
—
Dartford was splendid. When Anna finally made the move there in April, she wished she had done so long before. The place had been transformed since she had last seen it fifteen years ago. The manor house King Henry had built stood on the site of the old priory, and was surrounded by gardens and orchards and the white stone wall that had encircled the monastic buildings. There were two courtyards and a splendid range of royal apartments around the old cloisters. The nuns’ church was now an office for the grooms of her chamber. As Anna walked up the processional staircase from the inner court, past pillars supporting the English lion and the Welsh dragon, she felt like the queen she should have been.
Upstairs, the royal chambers led off the staircase on either side. Wandering through the house, with her household trailing excitedly behind, she lost count of the number of rooms it contained. There were more than a hundred, she was sure!
The chapel was beautiful. Looking in awe at the jeweled crucifix, she wondered if the Lord Jesus approved of the burnings that were being carried out in His name. They had begun in February.
Anna feared Sir Thomas Cawarden would be lucky to escape a similar fate. He was in prison right now, because someone had informed on him. Sir John had been unable to find out the charge, for it was too dangerous to inquire closely into such matters, but Anna suspected it was heresy.
There had still been no word of Cawarden when, in May, Dr. Cruser returned to England with news that the Duchess Maria had borne Wilhelm a son and heir named Karl, after the Emperor, who had graciously agreed to be the baby’s godfather.
“A toast, in celebration of the news!” Anna cried, overjoyed, and her whole household gathered around to drink the infant’s health. She looked fondly upon them all, especially Johann and Otho. They had become her family, and it was fitting they should share in her joy at welcoming its newest member.
> Later, when the goblets had been cleared away, and everyone had returned to their duties, Anna bade Dr. Cruser be seated, so that she could hear his other news.
“I have lately been at court,” he told her, “where I heard that your tenant, Sir Thomas Cawarden, had been in prison.”
“Yes, but I don’t know why,” Anna said, troubled.
“I was told he had defaced the parish church next to his house in London. The local people were so outraged they complained to the Privy Council. He refused to rebuild the church, which is why he was arrested. But he eventually undertook to provide a room for worship, so he was not prosecuted, and is now free.”
“He seems to court trouble.”
“Unfortunately, your Highness seems unwittingly to attract troublemakers. Did you know that your cofferer, Herr Brockhausen, had written to the Duke complaining that you were low in funds?”
“Yes, I did. What with the upkeep of my houses and my household, we are spending money like water, and I cannot find it in my heart to approach the Queen for more.” She refrained from telling Dr. Cruser that she was no longer sure she had the Queen’s favor. “But Jasper Brockhausen is no troublemaker. He nags me, it is true, but only because I’m not good with money, and he is. He’s quite firm with me sometimes.”
“Your Highness should know that his letter prompted Franz von Waldeck to complain of him to the Duke.”
“Franz is no friend to him. He is the troublemaker, which was why he was summoned home in disgrace.”
“Yes, but he has portrayed himself as the injured party, and has gained the Duke’s sympathy. He has accused Herr Brockhausen of various offenses, and now your brother wants him removed from your household.”
Anna was bursting with indignation. “How dare Franz interfere in my affairs? I don’t want to lose Jasper. He has been a rock of support to me.”
“Franz has made some serious accusations against him.”