Twilight of Queens: A Tudor Tragedy (Tudor Crimes Book 8)

by Anne Stevens

  “I assure you…”

  “And I assure you, Cromwell. Remove yourself from this business, or I will reach the king, and sway him to my side again. Then I will ask him how a common little man like you comes to rise so high. Henry fears clever men, Master Cromwell. Remember how I brought down Cardinal Wolsey… and Sir Thomas More? Are you so much better than they?”

  “It is for the king to choose, madam,” Cromwell says. “He is not renowned for his patience. After all, he is a king, and kings always get what they wish for. He will have Lady Jane as his wife, whether you abdicate, or not.”

  “He will not put me aside.”

  “He might, if the evidence against you is enough,” Cromwell says. It is his final move, and he hopes the woman sees sense. He has laid out every course that might lead to a happy ending, and must finish with a threat. “Should the king find out that you have betrayed his trust in some way, he will have you put in a nunnery.”

  “There is nothing to find, sir!”

  “You must take the word of one who knows about these matters, Your Majesty,” Cromwell says, coldly. “There is always something to find. Always!”

  “Play something for me,” the queen demands. “Something to liven the spirits.” The new musician, who is in court under the wing of George Boleyn, plays. He is not that accomplished, and his playing is little better than a competent amateur.

  George Boleyn is quite aware of the young man’s short comings, but still recommends him to his sister, as a pleasant fellow, who will be a willing, and loyal servant. Anne adopts him, at once, and refers to him as her sweet little puppy dog. Her brother, who knows Smeaton is an effeminate homosexual is happy.

  He seeks to surround the queen with bland, uninteresting men, whom she could never come to love more than she loves him, and is rather successful at the task. Mark Smeaton is an effeminate catamite, and no threat, whilst others, like Henry Norris, are so dull that Anne scarcely knows they are there.

  Smeaton and Norris, he muses, will keep his beloved sister out of temptation’s way. They are like some great Caliph’s eunuchs, protecting her from harm. One day, George thinks, Henry will be dead, and Anne will be free to follow her own heart. Once the young, and easily manageable, Elizabeth is on the throne they need not be so discreet.

  Were he not such a coward, George Boleyn would gladly hurry Henry on his way, with poison, or some contrived accident, but he lacks the courage, and must bide his time.

  “One day,” he thinks. “One day!”

  “Is it settled, Master Cromwell?” Henry can tell from his councillor’s diffidence that it is not good news.

  “Not quite, sire,” Cromwell replies. He bows, and asks if he might move closer. The throne room is crowded with ears, eager to pick up any gossip they can. Henry nods, and he steps to within a few inches of the king. “The queen, as I expected, makes a counter offer, which is almost too derisory for me to recount.”

  “Tell me, sir,” Henry says, his voice cold, and hard. “What does she dare reply that makes my most favoured man hesitate?”

  It is time for Cromwell to begin the fight in earnest. The queen, in reply to his offers, has threatened his own life, and that of all at Austin Friars. He must do all he can to ensure their safety.

  “The queen says that … you must beg her for a divorce,” the Privy Councillor says. “And that she might then consider it.”

  “Must?” Henry almost explodes. “She demands that I seek her out? Would she have me genuflect at her feet too?”

  “Sire, I fear she did not understand what she…”

  “You defend her, fellow?” The king is shaking with rage.

  “Not I, sire,” Cromwell replies, quickly. “It is just that she seemed to be … out of sorts. It was as if she was under a spell which makes her contrary. She confounded everything I said. She refused an easy abdication, with the retention of most of her titles, and all of her land. It was as if she knows something I do not. Has she some power over you, sire?”

  “I am the king,” Henry blusters. “I bend to no one, Cromwell. No one.”

  “Then she knows something, or expects something to happen,” Cromwell muses. “Has anything odd occurred of late, sire?”

  “Like what?” Henry says. He is the king, and as such, never notices anything, unless it is for his own personal benefit, or pleasure. “You must speak plainly, sir.”

  “Are there any fresh faces about court, for instance?” Cromwell asks. “Or have you made any … new friends?”

  “Damn it, Cromwell, a man must have his relief,” Henry says. “How did you know?”

  “Someone mentions something to someone else, and that person speaks to another, who knows a man, who knows Cromwell’s man,” Cromwell explains. “It is just that your new ‘friend’ is a cousin of the queen. She is a close friend of the queen, who suddenly finds Your Majesty attractive.”

  “Dear God … the whore!” Henry is stunned to discover that it is not his charm and sexual prowess which keeps his new mistress happy. “You mean she is a spy?”

  “Sire, I cannot say,” Cromwell replies, honestly. “It might be that she desires to be your mistress for many reasons, but we must wonder if she is placed by you, so that some evil plot can be unfolded.”

  “You think she means to murder me?”

  “I do not, sire,” Cromwell says, sticking to the truth. “Though such a thing has been attempted before. I simply urge caution. Do not allow the girl to know your thoughts. Take your pleasure with her, then discard her. Find someone who does not like the queen. That should not be too hard.”

  “Ho!” Henry sees the fooling against the queen, and admires Cromwell for making so bold a jest. “She will have no friends, if she continues her stubborn ways. I have a mind to speak to her, in a stern way, and put her mind on the right track.”

  “No, sire, that would be unwise. Forgive my abrupt, yet honest, way of speaking, but it would be a mistake.”

  “What then?” Henry puts his hands on his hips, and strikes a pose he thinks makes him look like a great statesman. “God knows, I trust you, Thomas, and you may speak as you wish to me. I love you, and will always listen to your words of wisdom.”

  “Sire…”

  “Call me Henry,” the king says, softening his tone. “Dearest Tom, speak your mind.”

  “Very well, Henry,” Cromwell replies. “Ignore her. Pretend you have no knowledge of her foolish demand. Make sure you are never in her company, alone. Either refuse to see her, or send for a trusted advisor. Master Sadler is a trustworthy fellow, and the Earl of Suffolk is a true friend. Let them note what she says, and listen to them. Rafe Sadler is sound, and will see if she is laying any traps for you. Above all, do not ask her for a divorce. The impetus must come from the Boleyn camp.”

  “Then the church are with her?” Henry is bemused. He has ridded himself of the Catholic Church of Rome, only to saddle himself with a new church, which will not support him.

  “Not at all, Henry,” Cromwell tells the king. “They tolerate her, because she is queen. They must support her, if you seek a divorce, without reasonable grounds. They are happy to support you, if she asks for a divorce.”

  “Then she must ask,” Henry says. “That is down to you, Tom. Make her ask. I will keep my part of the deal, and refuse to see her, from this day forth. I will also get rid of the viper in my bed. Charles Brandon always says it is better to tup the servants, and slip them a shilling or two.”

  “Yes sire,” Cromwell says. He is not comfortable using the king’s given name, and reverts as soon as he feels able to the customary form of address. “That is a method much used by the Duke of Norfolk. They do say that over half of his tenants can lay claim to his noble blood.”

  “Well said, Thomas,” Henry says with a smile. His good humour is slowly returning, and he is reassured that Cromwell will obtain that which he most wants. “Uncle Norfolk is a veritable satyr.”

  “And uncle to the queen, sire.” Cromwell watches as the
king digests the observation, and a look of mistrust creeps across his features. “I have taken the liberty of alerting Lord Suffolk to the possibility of conflict. I believe Colonel Draper has ordinance at the Tower of London, and awaits the word. Should anyone feel inclined to dispute the throne, we are ready to crush them.”

  “Dear Christ, Cromwell, am I beset on all sides?” Henry is beginning to see what a quagmire he is about to cross, and all for the sake of a woman. Civil war, the church, a spy in his bed, and a recalcitrant wife, all combine to ensure he will not sleep that night.

  “Not at all, Your Majesty,” Cromwell says, with a beatific smile. “You are surrounded by loyal friends, and good advisors. The army and its canon are under the watchful eye of Colonel Draper, and I am ever mindful of your safety.”

  “Then I am a lucky man to have you, Tom,” the king says. “I wish you would let me elevate you. A knighthood perhaps, or a baronetcy … to start with.”

  “No sire. Why give the opposition ammunition? They already say that I am a lowly commoner, who has risen above himself. They think it is by roguery, rather than by hard work, and loyal devotion to my king. Leave me be, until all our aims are fulfilled, and then consider if I am worthy of reward.”

  “As you wish,” Henry says. “Though know this, sir … you are my man. I trust no one before you … not even Charles, or old Uncle Norfolk. I will not hear any evil against you, and I will support you in every way I can. I so swear.”

  “I have the king’s oath,” Cromwell says, as he bows his way out of the room. “No man could wish for more.”

  “Is it done then?” Rafe Sadler asks, once Cromwell comes into the outer chamber.

  “As best I can,” Cromwell tells him. “Henry has promised not to speak to the queen, from now onwards. I have poisoned Norfolk’s well, just in case, and put the thought of civil war into the king’s mind. He thinks that the poor Mary Sheldon girl he swives is a Boleyn spy, and he has sworn an oath to support me.”

  “In public?” Rafe Sadler is stunned at this, as he constantly warns the king about making rash promises, let alone swear dangerous oaths.

  “At least six courtiers heard,” Cromwell says, with a wide grin on his face. “I will give my nephew their names, so that he can have them make depositions to that effect. I doubt they will refuse Richard, for he has a certain, forceful way with people.”

  “Now what?” Rafe Sadler is the king’s advisor, but is bonded to Cromwell, and Austin Friars, by deeper ties. “How do we make the queen surrender to us?”

  “Fear,” Cromwell says. “It is the last, most powerful, arrow in my quiver. “They say the queen is fearless, but everyone has a weakness. Uncover that secret fear, and she will abdicate.”

  “Has Will Draper found anything out yet?”

  “It is as if she were a nun,” Cromwell confesses. “But there is something, I know it. I saw it in her eyes. I will find it out, and use it to make her lay down her crown.”

  “You did not come home last night, sir,” Lady Jane Rochford says to the back of her husband. He seldom bothers to acknowledge her, and has grown worse since her affairs with the Duke of Suffolk, and the king.

  “I have no home, madam,” George Boleyn answers. “I am here for a change of clothes, and will be gone, before one of your lovers comes a-calling. Who is it this week, Henry, Charles Brandon, or some other? What about Tom Wyatt? They say he will stick it in anything with a…”

  “Sir!” Jane Boleyn, Countess of Rochford strikes his back with her clenched fist. “You go too far. I found myself deserted by a husband who does not want me. I was seduced by Suffolk, who sought only to spite you, and was then handed on to the king. Who can refuse the king, sir? I did not see you challenging either man over me. You allowed them to use me.”

  “You could have refused Brandon.” George replies. He does not love his wife, but he does not want her used to embarrass him at court. “The man is a Cromwell dog, and is friendly with that bastard, Draper. You have been a fool, madam, and I am done with you. I will not support you any more, and I do not wish to speak with you again.”

  “These are court chambers, husband,” Lady Jane replies, tartly. “I will live here, and continue to wait on your sister, the queen. If you refuse to support me, I will seek redress from other quarters.”

  “Do as you wish. I have no taste for a whore, madam!”

  Jane Rochford steps back, as if slapped. Her husband’s words have finally poisoned her mind against him, and though it might take her months to find the courage, mixed with foolishness, to act, she will have her revenge. There is a half formed knowledge in her that knows she holds the power of life and death in her hands, and she need only wait for the right time to speak, and the right person to tell.

  “You think you can treat me this way?” she cries. “Wait until Henry tires of your sister, sir. Oh, I know he has visited her a few times, since More’s death, but I doubt it is enough to save the marriage!”

  “Have a care,” George Boleyn says, coldly. “The king does his duty by Anne, and the Boleyn line will prosper, despite your curses. Now, get out of my sight!””

  “His Majesty is much taken up with affairs of state,” Charles Brandon says, in an off hand manner. “He cannot spare the time to see you, Anne.”

  “Can he not, my Lord Suffolk?” Anne Boleyn smiles, and makes as if to side step Henry’s closest friend. He forgets himself, and reaches out a restraining arm. “You seek to manhandle me, sir?”

  “My pardon, lady, but the king does not wish to speak with you. You should, perhaps, listen to the good advice given to you by Master Cromwell.”

  “What, abdicate my rightful position?” Anne Boleyn smiles again. “I fear the king would be most upset, should I do something so irresponsible. Why, it would cause great unrest amongst his people.”

  “You think too much of yourself, madam.” Charles Brandon has never cared for the Boleyns, and has always resented Anne for coming between he and the king. Now Cromwell is on the case, he is sure the queen’s days are numbered, and he can throw caution to the wind. “Get yourself back to Hever Castle, and put on mourning black, for your marriage to the king is dead.”

  “Pray, do not upset me, Lord Suffolk,” Anne replies. “For it is bad for my unborn child.” Brandon almost chokes. For a moment, he thinks she is lying, but he sees the look of triumph in her eyes, and is overcome with a wave of nausea. “That is what I come to tell the king. Will he be so quick to cast me off, once he knows I carry the future of England in my belly?”

  “How?” Brandon cannot understand it. Henry has sworn that he has not lain with the queen for months, and has no love for her.

  “After More died, the king was confused, and upset. I came to him several times… and consoled him. He has his weaknesses, you see. After the last time… well, these things happen, Charles, and I find I am with his child.”

  “His Majesty will be most pleased.” It is all Brandon can say.

  “His Majesty will be eager to make things up with me,” Anne says. “The Seymours must go back to Wulfhall, Mary Sheldon must stop warming Henry’s bed, and Master Cromwell must look to his own self. The man has done me a grave injustice, and must pay the expected penalty.”

  Rafe Sadler is loitering close by, and hears what has come about. He calls over one of the court messengers, and whispers into his ear. The boy nods, and sets off running to Austin Friars. The seemingly impossible has happened, and Thomas Cromwell’s fate is once more in the balance.

  ~End~

  Many thanks for reading this book. Other titles in author Anne Stevens ‘Tudor Crimes’ series are:

  Winter King

  Midnight Queen

  The Stolen Prince

  The Condottiero

  The King’s Angels

  The King’s Examiner

  The Alchemist Royal

  We value what you, our readers think. Here are a few of the most recent comments on Amazon, about our epic series:

  5 out of 5
stars. Definitely recommended

  By Big Bando on 16 Jan. 2016. Verified Purchase.

  What can I say, except another great read. Can't put these down, once I start reading them!

  5 out of 5 stars Angelic!

  By AB, writing about ‘The King’s Angels, on 8th November 2015.

  This series is going from strength to strength, and I await the next slice of Cromwell and his Austin Friars mob, eagerly. I cannot wait for my next Tudor fix!

  5 out of 5 stars Great book

  By summer63 on 9th January, 2016. Kindle EditionVerified Purchase

  Great characters, brought to life by good writing.

  Would recommend (Winter King)

  5 out of 5 stars Enjoyed every bit of it!

  ByAmazon Customer on 24 June 2015 Verified Purchase.

  Brilliant, I enjoyed every bit of it!(Winter King)

  5 out of 5 stars

  By C. J. Parsons on 28th October 2015. Kindle Edition Verified Purchase

  ‘A gripping read, well written.’

  5.0 out of 5 stars

  By swan2 on 10th August 2015.

  Format: Kindle EditionVerified Purchase.

  Quite short, so read in a couple of days. I love the shardlake series, and it reminded me a bit of them. A good read for the holidays.

  ps

  I worked out the killer quite early on!

  5 out of 5 stars More please!

  By B B …… 2016. Kindle:Verified Purchase

  This was the first one in the series that I read, and I was not disappointed. Have since read all the others. More please!

  And finally… You can’t please ‘em all!