The Queen's Favourite

by Laura Dowers

  ‘I suggest we take a vote,’ Browne licked his lips greedily. ‘What say you, gentlemen, to Seymour as protector?’

  A chorus of ‘Aye’, to which neither John nor Wriothesley contributed. With such a little word, King Henry’s wishes had been ignored, set aside for a handful of titles.

  ‘Well then,’ Denny said, his long face broadening with a grin, ‘if that’s decided, we had better make a start for the Tower.’ He led the councillors out.

  ‘Well, what do you make of that, Dudley?’

  John halted at the door. ‘You don’t seem happy, Thomas.’

  Wriothesley lounged in his chair, left leg hooked over the arm, one elegant finger tapping against the table. ‘The devil I don’t.’ He waved an arm at the departing councillors. ‘He’s bought them.’

  John sighed. ‘It would seem so.’

  ‘But it’s obvious to me that Seymour didn’t buy you. And, you know, that surprises me.’

  John bridled. ‘I can’t be bought, Thomas.’

  Wriothesley laughed, a high, girlish laugh that made John want to hit him. ‘Every man can be bought, John. You just like to think you’re more costly than most. But Seymour’s done all this without involving you, hasn’t he? And you two have been so close. So much for friendship, eh?’

  ‘There’s no such thing as friendship at court.’

  ‘I suppose not. I notice you didn’t vote just now.’

  ‘There was no need. If I had said Nay, I would have been outvoted. If I had said Aye, I would merely have added my voice to the others.’

  ‘You can stomach Seymour as protector then?’

  ‘I don’t see we have any choice. As you said, all the others are with Seymour. If we can’t prevent it, and we can gain by agreeing to his protectorship…,’ John shrugged, ‘why not?’

  Wriothesley grunted a grudging agreement.

  ‘So, Thomas, are you coming to the Tower?’

  With a great sigh, Wriothesley shoved away from the table and jerked his wiry frame erect. ‘I suppose so, but you’ll have to stop me from spitting in Seymour’s eye.’

  John laughed, patting him on the shoulder as he passed. You’ll have to wait your turn, he thought.

  15

  Whitehall Palace, London, May 1547

  ‘Do you mind if I sit here?’ the pageboy asked, a wooden cup in one hand, a platter of meat in the other. ‘I wouldn’t normally ask, only the Pages Chamber is full.’

  It was a liberty, Robert Dudley knew. Pages were not supposed to eat in the Great Hall, but most of the diners had departed and the servants were already taking down the trestle tables. Robert nodded and the boy clambered onto the bench and began to eat.

  ‘You serve Edward Seymour?’ Robert asked, pointing to the badge on the boy’s breast. The boy nodded, his mouth full of food. ‘What’s it like?’

  ‘It’s all right,’ the boy shrugged. ‘He has a bad temper though, and his wife is worse. It’s best to be invisible when she’s around.’

  Robert grinned understandingly. ‘I’ve heard my father say that too.’

  ‘Who’s your father?’

  ‘John Dudley.’

  The boy’s eyes widened, impressed. ‘Really? He was in the office earlier. My master was very upset.’

  ‘Upset with my father? Why?’

  ‘Well,’ the boy wiped his mouth on his sleeve and leant towards him. ‘It seems that Thomas Wriothesley has been placed under house arrest. Your father burst into my master’s office demanding to know why.’

  ‘Did Seymour tell him?’

  ‘Something to do with the Earl sending his clerks to do work he should have been doing himself.’

  ‘That doesn’t sound very terrible.’

  ‘That’s what your father said. My master swore at him, and reminded him that he was the Lord Protector and warned him not to forget his place.’

  Colour flooded Robert’s cheeks. ‘He said that to my father?’

  The boy nodded.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Robert said, almost to himself. ‘Thomas Wriothesley is Keeper of the Great Seal. How can Seymour expect to do without him? All official documents have to have the Great Seal on them.’

  The boy shrugged, digging out slivers of meat from between his teeth with a fingernail. ‘I don’t know, but I was glad to get out of my master’s way, I can tell you, the mood he was in after your father left. I feel sorry for the king, having him for an uncle.’

  ‘Was anything else said? After my father left, I mean?’

  The boy frowned in thought. ‘My master did instruct one of his secretaries to hurry through with the charges against Thomas Wriothesley. But then my master’s brother turned up, complaining again that he was being left out of things. My master began to turn purple, so I sneaked out. I wasn’t about to get caught up in their quarrels.’

  ‘They’re nasty, are they?’

  ‘They’ve drawn swords against each other, you know.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I swear. They can’t stand each other.’

  ‘I never realised.’

  ‘There’s going to be trouble there, I warrant you.’

  ‘Sounds like it.’

  The boy licked his greasy fingers. ‘I should get back. Thank you for letting me sit here.’

  Alone again, Robert remained seated, until the servants pointedly waited at the edge of the table. Robert took the hint and rose.

  ‘Still eating, Robert?’ his father remarked as he breezed past.

  ‘Father.’ Robert hurried to catch him up.

  ‘You should be twice the size you are, the amount you eat,’ John said, not slackening his pace. ‘I expect most of the food bills for the Household are down to you.’

  ‘Father, I was just talking with one of Seymour’s pages and he said you two had had a quarrel.’

  John stopped so abruptly that Robert careered into him. ‘Who is it you’ve been talking to? I won’t have gossip, especially when it’s about me. Tell me his name.’

  ‘I don’t know his name.’

  ‘But you’ll recognise him?’

  ‘Father, surely he’s not important? What he told me, I thought you would find of interest.’

  John softened. ‘What did he tell you, my little spy?’

  ‘After you left, Seymour’s brother, Thomas, turned up and they started arguing. The page said that it happens a lot, that they can’t stand one another.’

  ‘They’re not very loving brothers, that’s true.’

  ‘They’ve drawn swords on each other.’

  ‘Have they really?’ John’s eyebrow rose in surprise. ‘Well, all right, so they quarrel. What of it?’

  ‘I…’ Robert flung his arms wide despairingly. ‘I thought it might be useful to know.’

  John smiled, and patted Robert’s shoulder. ‘It is useful. Thank you, Rob. Now, putting gossip aside, does the king talk about Seymour to you?’

  ‘Sometimes. He’s quite glad he has Seymour looking after things for him...’

  ‘But?’

  ‘But I don’t think he likes him very much. He said his uncle is very grim, and he much prefers his other uncle, Thomas, who makes him laugh.’

  ‘I bet he does,’ John said. ‘Well, keep me informed, Rob.’

  Robert nodded and began to walk away.

  ‘And Rob?’

  ‘Yes, Father?’

  ‘You keep talking to pageboys. Yes, my boy?’

  Robert grinned. ‘Yes, Father.’

  16

  Whitehall Palace, London, March 1547

  John had thought hard on what Robert had told him about the Seymour brothers. With Edward Seymour becoming more unreasonable by the day, John felt little reason to remain loyal to him. He was also worried; Wriothesley had been removed from office with barely a whimper. John could, with very little effort, envisage a time when he would become just as superfluous to Seymour’s requirements, perhaps even a threat. Would he then be got rid of just as easily, with no word of protest from his fellow
councillors? John was determined that wouldn’t happen. He peered around the corner. Further along the corridor, two legs stuck out from a window embrasure. John walked towards them, and contrived a trip.

  ‘Jesus! Why the devil –,’ Thomas Seymour roared as he jumped up to face whatever clumsy oaf had disturbed him. ‘Oh, it’s you.’

  John tugged his doublet straight and grimaced. ‘Those damn long legs of yours, Thomas.’

  ‘You’ll have to forgive me,’ Thomas chuckled. ‘I was somewhat distracted.’ He gestured with his eyes to the woman curled up in the window seat, her cheeks flushed and dimpled.

  She smiled shyly. ‘I should be going,’ she said, dropping her feet to the floor and smoothing her skirts. ‘Excuse me.’ She almost skipped away, her heels clicking against the floorboards.

  ‘In the corridor, Thomas?’

  ‘Oh, don’t be so disapproving, you old dog,’ Thomas said. ‘A man must find his pleasure where he may. Anyway, sit down. Talk to me, now that you’ve scared my delightful little wanton away.’

  ‘Very well. You can tell me why you weren’t at the council meeting today.’

  Thomas’s face clouded over. ‘What council meeting?’

  ‘Oh,’ John said innocently, ‘I thought your brother would have told you of it. Obviously not.’

  ‘Damn him,’ Thomas snarled. ‘He’s determined to leave me out.’

  ‘Tom,’ John shook his head, ‘would your brother do that? I’m sure he just forgot to mention it.’

  ‘Oh no, he didn’t just forget. You don’t know him like I do, John. I know what he’s doing. He wants the boy all to himself. But I’m his uncle too and I tell you, I will have something.’

  ‘Well, if there’s anything I can do, Tom, just ask. And I’ll let you know when the council is meeting again. I’m sure we can get some position for you.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Thomas said grudgingly. ‘Well, I think I’ll pay a visit to my nephew. See how he is.’

  ‘I’m sure he’ll be very pleased to see you. From what I hear, you’re much his favourite uncle.’

  ‘Really?’ Thomas’s face relaxed into an easy smile. ‘Who told you that?’

  John tapped his nose. ‘A little bird, Tom.’

  ‘Well, you’ll let me know, about the next meeting?’

  ‘Of course I will.’

  Thomas patted his arm gratefully and departed. John allowed himself a satisfied smile. He had a feeling causing trouble between the two brothers was going to be easier than he had anticipated.

  17

  Whitehall Palace, London, April 1547

  Seymour fixed his expression into one of patience and waited for his brother to stop talking. He looked around the table, wondering which one of them had told Thomas about this meeting. Paget, Browne? No, they wouldn’t have bothered. Cranmer? No, he looked more bored than usual. There was Parr, brother to the former queen, Katherine, who had once been in love with Thomas and may be still, for all Seymour knew. Maybe, but …no, John Dudley, of course! He was hiding it well, but Seymour could see the tiniest upturn of his lips beneath the thin moustache. Anne had been right. Dudley was causing trouble.

  ‘And I say, my lords,’ Thomas concluded, ‘as the king’s favourite uncle, and as my brother already has the Protectorship, I should have the Governorship of the king’s Person.’

  All heads turned toward Seymour. His insides churned with indignation and fury. It was ludicrous, there could be no worse person to govern the king than Thomas. What would Thomas teach him? How to gamble, how to swear, how to whore? In all these, Thomas was a true adept. Seymour didn’t trust himself to speak. He rose, pushed back his chair and strode from the chamber, leaving the councillors and Thomas to stare after him, open-mouthed.

  ‘Thomas never ceases to amaze me,’ John said, pouring himself wine from a jug on the windowsill.

  ‘He is insufferable,’ Seymour kicked at a log on the hearth, wishing it were Thomas. ‘That he should do this to me.’

  ‘He is an envious man, Edward, and, I think, will not be content until he has eclipsed you entirely.’

  ‘Favourite uncle, he said? Where does he get this nonsense?

  ‘Oh, that’s just Thomas’s fancy. I’m sure the king does love him, but no more than he loves you, never fear.’

  ‘I don’t fear that, John. I have nothing to fear from the king. I wish I knew how he found out about the meeting.’ He looked sideways at John, who stared shamelessly back.

  ‘You’re going to have to give Thomas something to do.’

  ‘I realise that. But what?’

  ‘I do have a suggestion.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘He could have my position of Lord Admiral.’

  ‘You’d give that up?’

  ‘Yes. But, of course, I would expect some recompense for relinquishing the post.’

  ‘What would you want?’

  ‘Well,’ John said, taking a seat, ‘I do have a fancy for an earldom. Warwick would be most acceptable.’

  ‘Then it’s yours. Is that all you want?’

  ‘That’s all. Now,’ John said and got to his feet, ‘my wife expects me at home, so I shall bid you good night, Edward.’

  ‘Good night, John.’

  As he stared down into the flickering flames of the fire, Seymour had the uneasy feeling that he had missed something in his conversation with John.

  John fell onto his bed and laughed out loud. Jane rubbed her eyes and frowned at her husband. ‘What are you laughing at?’

  John rolled over onto his front. ‘It’s done, Jane.’

  ‘What’s done?’

  ‘I’ve sown the seeds of discord between Edward and Thomas Seymour and received the Earldom of Warwick as my reward.’

  ‘I’m glad,’ she said, settling back into her pillow and closing her eyes.

  He nudged himself up the bed next to her, his boots becoming entangled in the bedclothes. ‘Show me how glad you are,’ he said, pulling at the laces on her nightgown.

  She giggled and slapped his hand away. ‘What made you think of setting those two against each other?’

  ‘Rob. He found out that they argue a great deal and he thought I could use that information.’

  ‘He’s already thinking like a courtier. He gets that from you.’

  John pulled his boots off. ‘He’s ambitious. That’s a good thing.’

  ‘Gets above himself at times. Do you know, I heard him telling Guildford the other day how one of the boys could be a king one day? He heard us talking about you asking for the Warwick earldom and he was telling the children about Warwick the kingmaker and how that could be you.’

  John smiled. ‘Was he?’

  ‘I beg you, don’t encourage him too much, John.’

  ‘Rob would make a fine king,’ he protested. ‘Although I suppose you would rather Guildford.’

  ‘He has a better temper.’

  ‘Only because you indulge him, you foolish woman,’ he said, climbing into bed and holding out his right arm.

  She moved into his embrace and began playfully pulling at the hairs on his chest. ‘John, do you think it’s wise to do what you’re doing? Pitting the Seymour brothers against each other.’

  ‘I’m just doing what I have to, for the protection of our family. And anyway, I think the brothers would destroy each other before long without my interference.’

  ‘Well, I suppose you know what you’re about. Just be careful.’

  He squeezed her gently. ‘I always am, Jane, don’t worry. I’m damned if I’ll go the same way as Wriothesley. I’ll have Seymour’s head before he has mine, I promise you.’

  18

  Chelsea, London, May 1547

  Thomas Seymour leant against the tree and wondered how much longer he would have to wait. The grass beneath his feet was wet, already seeping into his leather shoes, and the night had turned chill, so that he had to pull his cloak about him to keep warm.

  Thomas heard a latch click open and then a voice in the
darkness called softly, ‘Tom, are you there?’

  ‘I’m here.’

  Katherine Parr emerged from the shadow of the doorway. She wore a dressing-gown over her nightdress, and dark brown hair curtained her face. ‘I’ve kept you waiting.’

  ‘Shameful. You know how impatient I am for you.’

  ‘I almost wrote to you and told you not come. I’m sure this isn’t right.’

  ‘For Christ’s sake, Kate, you were mine before King Henry ever looked in your direction but he had you and I didn’t. Was that fair, was that right?’

  ‘Don’t be angry with me. I’m thinking of the children, Tom. Elizabeth and Edward. What will they say?’

  ‘I’ll find out,’ Tom shrugged carelessly. ‘I’ll go to Edward in the morning and ask him for permission to marry you.’

  ‘But what if he says no?’

  ‘Then I won’t ask him. We’ll marry and tell him after.’

  ‘Do you think we could?’

  He pulled her into an embrace. ‘Yes, I do. What say you, Kate, will you take a risk?’

  ‘Oh, Tom, I so want to be married to you.’

  As she laid her head against his chest, his gaze raked over the facade of her splendid house that could, so soon, be his. Something caught his eye. He squinted into the darkness. It was Elizabeth, looking out from her window. Looking down at him. He had a small heartbeat of panic at what she must have seen, but then he relaxed. What did it matter if a twelve year old girl had seen his lovemaking?

  He angled Katherine’s head back and forced his lips onto hers almost cruelly. She moaned and pulled her mouth from his. As Katherine placed fervent kisses upon his neck, Thomas kept his eyes on the figure at the window. A shiver of excitement ran through him as Elizabeth continued to watch.

  Whitehall Palace

  Robert’s head ached. The sermon had been going on for hours, which was a long time to be sitting on a hard wooden pew in a chilly chapel, forbidden to talk and only to listen. It was a relief when the sermon eventually came to an end and Robert, with the other companions, followed the king out of the chapel.