The Privy Council departed that same day in midafternoon for Richmond to see the queen. They would need her consent to the proceedings. They traveled the river, nervous, and unappreciative of the fair summer day and the beautiful countryside about them.
“Pray God she is no Katherine of Aragon,” Lord Audley said to his companions in the first barge.
“Aye,” Suffolk answered. “He’s in no mood to be denied much longer, and like the other two, Cat Howard is dangling her virtue before him like a prize to be won. He’ll not get between her legs without a wedding band and the crown matrimonial.” Suffolk shook his head. “ ’Tis the same game they all play, yet he does not learn. First the Boleyn, then Lady Jane, and now this girl.”
“I believe you will find Queen Anne most reasonable,” Archbishop Cranmer said quietly. “She is a sensible lady, and most wise.”
The three barges carrying the Privy Council arrived at Richmond’s stairs. The queen, who had not been forewarned, greeted them cautiously. What if Hendrick had changed his mind about the terms of the dissolution of their marriage they had secretly agreed to months ago? What if he had decided to send her back to Cleves? Anne eyed her guests nervously. Carefully, the Duke of Suffolk, who was the Lord President of the Privy Council, explained the situation, believing it would come as a complete shock to the young queen. He asked that young Hans von Grafsteen translate his words into the queen’s native tongue so that she would be certain to completely understand him and fully comprehend what was involved. The queen’s ladies were goggle-eyed at the proceedings. What a story they would have to tell after it was all over. Their heads swung between the Privy Council and the queen.
“So,” Anne said to Hans in their own High Dutch, “it has finally come. He will take his new bride, and spend a summer of romantic love. God help the poor girl!” She wiped at her blue eyes with a lace-edged scrap of linen, thereby giving them all the impression she was saddened by her situation.
“What should I answer the duke, Your Grace?” Hans asked.
“I shall answer him, Hans,” she told the boy. Turning to the Duke of Suffolk and the rest of the Privy Council, she said in English, “Because of the deep affection and respect that I bear His Grace, I am content, my lords, to let this matter be decided by the Church, as my good lord the king vishes it.” She curtsied to them, hands folded modestly.
“Are you absolutely certain she understands?” the Duke of Norfolk growled. He wanted no difficulties in this matter.
“Ya, my lord,” the queen answered him, to his great surprise. “I understand completely. His Grace vorries that our marriage is not a legal one. I trust His Grace, and he vould not bring this matter to the attention of the clergy vere his conscience not troubling him, ya? Therefore, as a goot vife, I must accede to his vishes to haf the matter investigated further, and I will.” She smiled at them.
“Thank you, dear madame,” the archbishop said. “You are truly an example in wifely obedience to all women. His Grace will be very pleased.”
The Privy Council departed, delighted to have had so easy a time of it, but Duke Thomas was yet suspicious.
“What is that woman up to, I wonder? She seemed almost glad to give her consent. Surely she must know if the king wants the matter investigated, that she will end up without a husband, or a crown.”
“Perhaps,” the archbishop said smoothly, “that pleases her. I realize such a thing is difficult for you to imagine, Thomas, but some people are not interested in worldly power.”
“Then they are fools!” Norfolk snapped.
The king was extremely elated by the success of his Privy Council. Anne had been so reasonable in their secret discussions, he had grown fearful that she had just been lulling him into a sense of false security; that when the matter became public, she would protest and attempt to hold onto her crown.
The following day Henry made a written declaration to the clergymen impaneled for the investigation into his marriage to Anne of Cleves. In it he stated that his intentions had been honorable, despite the fact he had not wanted to marry again. He had done it for the good of his kingdom, to ensure the succession by having more children. However, despite the good reports he had of the Princess of Cleves, one look at her when she arrived in England had convinced him that he should never be able to love or to make love to this woman. He had gone through with the marriage despite his deep misgivings because he could not learn of any honorable way in which to avoid the marriage without embarrassing the poor lady, who was after all but an innocent pawn in a political game. Still, this matter of a possible precontract with the son of the Duke of Lorraine, and his inability to consummate the marriage, nagged at his conscience. He wished the clergy’s learned opinion in the matter. He had absolutely no ulterior motives for wanting to dissolve his marriage to the lady from Cleves, but was that marriage legal?
During the next few days witnesses were called to testify in the matter before the assembled clergymen. The Earl of Southampton, Admiral FitzWilliam, and Sir Anthony Browne told the court of the king’s immediate displeasure upon meeting the Princess of Cleves. Cromwell, from the Tower, swore to the king’s instant unhappiness and his desperate desire to be free of the match. It was the last act of a loyal servant. The king’s physicians were brought in to testify. Dr. Chambers swore that the king had told both him and Dr. Butts of his inability to consummate his marriage to the lady Anne.
“He said he was certain that he might couple with another woman, but that the lady Anne filled him with revulsion and he could not even attempt the act with her. I advised him to not try further, that being the case, lest he debilitate his sexual organs,” Dr. Chambers said.
“The king has had many nocturnal emissions during his entire marriage to the lady Anne,” Dr. Butts told the fascinated court. “This, my lords, is proof absolute of a lack of intercourse. Though he has shared the lady’s bed, she is as good a maid as the day she arrived in England. I will swear to it upon my own immortal soul.” He folded his fat hands across his rather substantial paunch in a pious gesture.
The House of Lords debated the matter, even as the clergy discussed it. The possible precontract with Lorraine had to be finally disposed of because the duke had married his son to the daughter of the King of France. He would hardly have done so had his son been betrothed elsewhere. Best not to open the matter up again lest France become offended. War was not desirable at this point. The king’s declared lack of consent to the marriage, and his inability to consummate it, were considered valid enough reasons for ending the marriage. There was but one male heir to England’s throne. More were needed. If Henry Tudor could not get those heirs on Anne of Cleves, then what good the marriage? The House of Lords agreed. The marriage must be ended.
On the ninth day of July the convocation of clergy from both the Canterbury and the York archbishoprics found that the king’s marriage to Anne of Cleves was null and void on the grounds of nonconsummation and lack of consent. Both parties were free to remarry. Archbishop Cranmer, the Earl of Southampton, and the Duke of Suffolk went to Richmond to inform the queen of the court’s decision.
“From henceforth on, madame, you will be considered the king’s most beloved sister,” the Duke of Suffolk told her. He then went on to tell Anne of the handsome yearly allowance the king had settled upon her. “You will also be allowed to keep all your jewelry, your plate, and your tapestries. Richmond Palace, Hever Castle, and the manor of Bletchingly are now yours. Only the king’s daughters and a new queen will take precedence over you when you visit the court, madame. It is hoped that you will be content with these most generous terms afforded you by our gracious lord, Henry Tudor. God save the king!”
“I am most content vith my dear brother Hendrick’s generosity,” the lady Anne replied. “I shall write to him in a day or two declaring myself amenable to all that has passed this day, my lord. Vill that be suitable, do you think?” She smiled sweetly at him.
Why, she’s absolutely delighted by this turn
of events, thought the Duke of Suffolk. ’Tis a good thing Hal is not here to see her glad face. “Aye, madame, ’twill be most acceptable,” he replied.
“Dr. Wotton is to be sent to Cleves, dear lady,” the archbishop said, “to explain these delicate matters to your good brother, Duke William. If you would like to send a letter along to the duke, it might ease his mind even more.”
“You vill help me to compose it?” the lady Anne asked. “I vould not like my unfamiliarity vith the English language to cause any confusion on Vilhelm’s part. His mind can sometimes be like a dumpling.”
Both the Earl of Southampton and the Duke of Suffolk chuckled at her remark, but the archbishop said, “Would you not prefer to write to your brother in your native tongue, dear madame? Will he not worry, and wonder if you address him in English?”
“I am an English voman now, my lord,” Anne answered them, “but if it vill put your minds at ease, ve vill write the letter together in English, and then you may haf it translated into the language of my birth. Send Vilhelm both copies, however, so he vill see that the original is written in my own hand. I vill reassure him, and he vill be content, ya?” She smiled brightly at them.
“And would you have us take a message to the king, my lady?” the Duke of Suffolk asked her. “To reassure him that you are satisfied?”
“Ya,” Anne said. “You may tell the king, my brother, that I am his most obedient servant, now and alvays.” She curtsied to the three men.
“Incredible,” the Earl of Southampton said, as they returned to London in their barge. “I have never known so reasonable a woman, but then from the beginning, when I met her in Calais, she was anxious, nay, eager, to please His Grace.”
“She has certainly pleased him this day,” the archbishop said with great understatement. “I suspect we have lost a valuable diplomat when we lost this queen. I have never known a better tactician.”
“She was delighted to be rid of him if you ask me,” the Duke of Suffolk remarked. “Poor old Hal would be quite annoyed if he knew how well she accepted his will. I think I shall tell him she fainted at the news, but then you, Thomas, reassured her of His Grace’s goodwill. It will please his vanity. What think you, my lords?”
“His vanity needs no pleasing these days,” the archbishop told them. “Mistress Howard delights him so that nothing else matters to the king, I fear. I am not sure this is good.”
“Come now, my lord,” said the Duke of Suffolk, whose fourth wife was many years his junior, “a young wife is a happy thing.”
“ ’Tis not Mistress Howard who distresses, but rather her voracious family,” the earl murmured softly. “Duke Thomas fairly champs at the bit to regain the power he believes is rightfully his.”
“Then perhaps you will speak out for poor Crum,” the archbishop suggested. “He was never the easiest of men to get on with, I know, but we all realize these charges against him are feeble, and untrue.”
“Your heart is good, my lord, but your wisdom fails you here,” the Earl of Southampton told him. “Cromwell’s fate is sealed. He is a doomed man, and no one save God himself can help him. The king has set his mind to wed with Mistress Howard, and we must take the lady’s family with her. We have no other choice.”
“How did the Howard girl gain the ascendancy?” the Duke of Suffolk wondered aloud. “Was not the king’s fancy also taken by the Wyndham girl as well? But then she married Norfolk’s grandson so hastily.”
His two companions shrugged and settled back. The archbishop said nothing, and the Earl of Southampton knew nothing. The royal barge sailed down the river, out of sight of Richmond, where the former queen was even now telling her ladies that they might depart for the court or their own homes. Most of the women were eager to get back to Greenwich in order to secure themselves places with the new queen. The king’s nieces and daughter-in-law had not even come to Richmond. The Countess of Rutland would remain, but only until her husband, the former queen’s Lord Chamberlain, was formally dismissed. Sir Thomas Denny, Anne’s chancellor, and Dr. Kaye, the almoner, took their leave of the lady Anne and joined the departing women in a line of barges back to London. All were polite, but it was obvious that Anne was now considered a part of the past. Catherine was the future.
There was no room in the barges for the maids of honor.
“You will leave in the morning,” the Countess of Rutland said to those who were going.
Nyssa bid her friends a fond farewell. Kate Carey and Bessie FitzGerald both wept. The Bassetts were polite. Helga von Grafsteen and Maria Hesseldorf were going to remain with their mistress for the present. Young Viscount Wyndham bid the Princess of Cleves an elegant good-bye, sweeping his bonnet off and bowing quite low.
“I am honored to have been in your service, madame. I am always at your disposal should you ever need me,” he said.
“You are a goot boy, Philip,” the lady Anne told him. “I am grateful for your friendship, my lord.”
“Are you certain that you do not want to travel home for a visit, Giles?” Nyssa asked her younger brother. “Our parents will be most anxious about you. Are you sure that you would stay?”
“I have to make my mark here at court, Nyssa,” he told his elder sister. “You know ’tis the only chance I have. The Church is no longer a good career for second sons. There are three brothers behind me for our parents to match and worry over. Eventually I will move from Princess Anne’s service up the ladder, but if I leave now, how will I ever get another place? No, it is best that I stay. Perhaps I will come home sometime in the autumn for a visit. My only regret at remaining is that I will not get to see Papa’s face when you present him with a husband.” Giles chuckled and his blue eyes twinkled mischievously.
Nyssa laughed. “You are very bad,” she said, and bending down, she kissed her little brother. “God watch over you, Giles.”
The budding courtier bowed to her and replied, “God protect you and Varian, Sister.”
“Lady de Winter,” the Countess of Rutland called. “You are holding up the barge. Come at once!”
Nyssa turned to the princess, and almost immediately her eyes misted with tears. “I do not like to leave you, dear madame.”
Anne of Cleves swallowed back her own welling emotions. “You are not to worry, Nyssa. I haf escaped the English lion’s claws vith hardly a scratch. I am now a vealthy and propertied voman, and I haf no man to answer to from this day forvard. No brother Vilhelm, so full of importance and so joyless; and no husband Hendrick, who from the first did not like me for a vife. Ve are better friends, he and I. Do not veep on my behalf, Nyssa. I finally haf vhat I vant. I am free. Free to live my own life as I choose. Nein, liebling. I am not unhappy.”
“But what of love, madame? Who is there to love you?” Nyssa’s eyes were full of her concern for the princess.
“For you, Nyssa,” Anne told her, “romantic luf is important. You haf learned luf at your mama’s knee, nein? I learned duty at my mama’s knee. Vhat I know of luf is vhat you and a few others have shared vith me. It is enough for me. I vant no more.” The princess then kissed the young Countess of March upon her cheeks and her lips, saying, “Go now. Go home vith your handsome bridegroom. You may write to me if you desire to do so. I vould velcome your letters.”
Nyssa curtsied low. “It has been a privilege to serve you, madame,” she said. Then arising, she hurried to get into the last barge leaving Richmond for Greenwich, where Varian de Winter was awaiting her. Soon she stood on the hot deck of the barge, watching as the palace and the waving women disappeared around a bend. It was over. Another chapter in her life had closed. What would her future hold?
Philip came and stood next to Nyssa. He said nothing, but he sensed her feeling of loss and reached for her. She turned and smiled at her brother even as he squeezed her hand.
“We’re going home, Philip, and ’tis summer, and ohhh, I cannot wait to see Mama and Papa, and our baby sisters.”
“I have abided by your wishes, Nyssa, bu
t I believe our family will be greatly shocked by the news of your marriage, now almost three months ago,” Philip said seriously. “Would it not be better if I rode on ahead with Uncle Owen to prepare them for this news?”
“Nay, Philip, it is not your place to tell our parents of my marriage. It is Varian’s and my duty to do so. I know it will be a great surprise, but you must not interfere.”
He sighed deeply. “I wish I were a man grown. I hate being in between. And I will miss Helga. Isn’t she just the prettiest girl, Nyssa? And her heart is so good and kind,” he finished with a blush.
“Why, Philip, I believe you have conceived a tendre for Helga von Grafsteen. Why do you not discuss it with Papa when we return to RiversEdge? I’m certain her dowry is a respectable one.”
“Do you think he would listen to me, Nyssa?” Philip asked his sister. “He always makes me feel so young, though I shall be fourteen in October. If the match could be made, and we waited until I was seventeen, Helga would be old enough by then too.”
“Then speak with Papa, Philip. You don’t want him to make a match for you with some girl you do not like,” she advised.
“You were forced into a marriage,” he said glumly.
“It is fortunate then that Varian and I like each other,” Nyssa told him with a small smile, and then she grew silent again.
Their barge passed the soaring spires of Westminster and on through the city of London, sweeping southeast down the river to Greenwich. There was just the faintest breeze coming up from the sea past Gravesend, and then the towers and turrets of Greenwich came into view. She could see the other barges that had preceded them unloading their passengers. As the ladies and gentlemen who had been a part of Anne of Cleves’s household swept up the green lawns, a lone figure remained. Her heart beat a little faster as she recognized that figure. It was Varian de Winter. It was her husband come to take her home.
Chapter 9
Love, Remember Me Page 24