They talked most of the night and by the time Elizabeth returned to Hatfield she was in control and able to conceal her fear. She hardly reacted to the news that Paulet, Denny, and Tyrwhitt brought. And when Tyrwhitt asked sharply if she were not surprised, she shook her head.
“No, Lord Denno rode out two days ago to tell us of Seymour’s arrest.”
“And why was that? Why did Lord Denno—who is this Lord Denno? It is not a title I know,” Tyrwhitt snapped.
“It is not an English title,” Sir Anthony said gently. “He is a very rich merchant who has been a friend of Lady Elizabeth’s since her childhood.”
Tyrwhitt frowned at Sir Anthony, ran his thumb over the handsome ruby ring Chancellor Rich had given him with his instructions concerning Elizabeth. For all their sakes in the Protector’s government, Rich had said, Tyrwhitt must obtain enough evidence of Seymour’s treasonable intention to marry Lady Elizabeth, to send Seymour to the block. He must uncover this evidence, even if Lady Elizabeth were incriminated.
Tyrwhitt turned what he knew to be an intimidating frown on Elizabeth. “And why should you care that the Admiral was arrested?” he asked.
Far from being frightened, Elizabeth cocked her head in obvious puzzlement. “He was my beloved stepmother’s husband. How could I not be concerned over such evil news?”
“Surely your interest was more personal than that!” Tyrwhitt said.
“No!” Elizabeth spat, her voice rising; she drew herself up, her lips thinning to almost invisible lines. “I have not now nor ever had any personal interest in Sir Thomas Seymour. He was Queen Catherine’s husband. Queen Catherine was my stepmother and a true mother to me. I loved her. I cannot tell you all her kindness to me. I owed to her the duty to live pleasantly with her husband.”
“Now, Lady Elizabeth,” Sir Anthony put in soothingly, “Sir Robert meant no harm, but we do wish to understand completely your connection with Thomas Seymour.”
“You already understand it completely,” Elizabeth snapped. “There was and is no connection. Sir Anthony, I lived with you in Cheshunt for many months. Was there any communication between me and Sir Thomas that did not concern Queen Catherine?”
“No, that is true, but in a case like this …” Sir Anthony turned to Tyrwhitt. “Let me speak to Lady Elizabeth in private. We are old friends.”
Were friends, Elizabeth thought. I dare not think of him as a friend, but I must remember what Denno said. I must speak with easy confidence. Aside from silly Kat’s romantic fantasies, there was nothing between Tom and me. Poor Tom. The clumsy puppy has bumbled into a bog. Cold ran down her spine. I only hope he does not drown me with him. She shivered as Denny gestured her ahead into her private parlor.
“Now, my dear,” Denny said, “no one is blaming you. We all know that you are only a young girl. You have not been guided wisely, but that is not your fault.”
No, Elizabeth thought, Kat is not wise. She loves me too much and was too eager for what she thought would be my happiness with a strong and handsome husband. Kat knows how much I love Edward and that I would never conspire against him, so she never thought ahead to the danger of an heir to the throne marrying a strong and ambitious man already close to the seat of power.
“Perhaps I should have been more definite in rejecting some of the advice given me,” Elizabeth said, sighing, “but it was kindly meant. And only offered subject to the will of the king and the Council.”
“But was not the Council’s opinion spoken of as a foregone conclusion?” Denny suggested gently. “Come, tell me all that was said and done since you came here to Hatfield.”
Elizabeth was ready enough to do so. Denny listened closely, eager to believe her but watching for any sign of uneasiness or concealment.
Meanwhile, Tyrwhitt had summoned the entire household to gather in the great hall. There he announced that the Lord High Admiral, Sir Thomas Seymour, had been committed to the Tower on a charge of high treason. On pain of being judged a coconspirator, they were to answer all questions and to offer any information concerning Sir Thomas even if no question that touched that information was asked.
First he spoke to Elizabeth’s maidens. They were all very excited, very horrified, by his news. They could not believe that Sir Thomas had done such dreadful things. He was such a jolly man, so amusing and playful. But though all were open and more than willing to talk, what they said was not what Tyrwhitt wanted to hear.
Item: The last time any of them had seen Sir Thomas was when they left Chelsea.
Item: While they were living in Cheshunt, before the death of the queen, letters had come from Sir Thomas and Lady Elizabeth had been glad to receive them and to answer them, but they were all about the queen and the child she carried.
Item: No communication had been received from Sir Thomas since they moved to Hatfield and he had never visited the house.
Item: All of them had heard Mistress Ashley praise the Admiral and say that he would make a wonderful husband for Lady Elizabeth. But Lady Elizabeth had always said nay by her troth, she would not have him.
Tyrwhitt had been alert for the smallest sign of guilt, when he questioned them one at a time, a fluttering eyelid, a small change of color. And when he had them all together, he watched for the briefest exchange of glances. With even a tiny hint he would have known where to prod and pry; there was nothing. The girls were all agog, but the most eager questioner could not pretend they were hiding anything.
Questioning of the guards and the grooms had no better result. No visits and no communications had ever been received at Hatfield from Sir Thomas Seymour. The servants all sang the same song. Most of them, hired when Elizabeth moved into Hatfield, had no idea who Sir Thomas was but shook their heads when he was described. No, they said, no one who looked like the description ever came. The only gentleman who was not one of Lady Elizabeth’s tutors or an official of the Council or a foreign dignitary, like the ambassadors of France and Venice and Denmark who came to see Lady Elizabeth, was Lord Denno, and he never saw her in private.
By the time Sir Anthony came from Elizabeth’s parlor, Sir Robert was seriously annoyed. He had thought they would have all the evidence they needed in a few hours. However, he looked up and smiled hopefully at Sir Anthony.
“Well, has she confessed?”
“To what?” Sir Anthony said. “She is innocent. Whatever the Admiral had in mind, he has not communicated it to Lady Elizabeth. He may have hinted it to her cofferer, Thomas Parry, to whom he suggested that Lady Elizabeth request that some of her lands be changed for others in the west, near his own lands. But she would have none of it and was quite cross with her man over the suggestion. Does that sound as if she planned any permanent connection with Seymour?”
Doubt flickered momentarily in Sir Robert’s eyes, but the ruby ring glinted its crimson summons and his thumb rubbed its silky surface.
“She has too much support and does not yet feel the need to tell the truth and clear her conscience. Also, we will better extract the real facts from Mistress Ashley and Master Parry when they are less comfortable and secure. We must remove them from their own chambers and their own servants. Paulet has agreed that they should be arrested. He will accompany you back to London. A few days in the Tower will loosen their tongues.”
Denny frowned. He thought he knew Elizabeth well and he was reasonably sure she had no agreement with Seymour. He was equally sure that she was hiding something, protecting someone. He sighed. Likely the one she was protecting was Mistress Ashley.
It was not impossible, Denny thought, that Mistress Ashley had some agreement with Seymour and that Elizabeth knew of it. If so, Tyrwhitt was greatly mistaken if he believed he could pry that knowledge out of Elizabeth. However, Mistress Ashley herself might well be brought to confess if she were lodged in the Tower and convinced that her foolishness had endangered Lady Elizabeth.
“Very well,” Denny agreed. “I will take Ashley and Parry back to London with me.”
Tyrwh
itt waited only until he was sure Denny and Paulet were well away. Then he let himself into Elizabeth’s private parlor with barely a scratch on the door. His temper was further exacerbated by finding Elizabeth in the midst of her ladies, not weeping but listening to their excited remarks while calmly working on a lovely piece of embroidery. He drew a breath as he came closer and saw that it carried the royal arms.
Silence fell as he entered the room but before anyone could say anything, he bade the maids of honor leave; he had something to tell Lady Elizabeth in private. They went reluctantly, the last girl looking over her shoulder. As the outer door closed, the one to the bedroom opened and Blanche Parry brought a stool to the doorway and sat down. She was out of hearing distance, unless Tyrwhitt or Elizabeth shouted, but she could see everything that happened.
“You may go,” Tyrwhitt snapped at Blanche. “I wish to speak to your mistress in private.”
Blanche did not even raise her head. Her eyes flicked up from the piece of mending she held in her lap but then went back to the sewing.
“She will not leave,” Elizabeth said. “Not on the order of some strange man. She knows that I am never to be left alone. She cannot hear what you or I say, but she can be sure that you do me no hurt.”
“I am an officer of the Council,” Tyrwhitt said angrily. “I have their commission to question you.”
Elizabeth sighed. “I have answered all of Sir Anthony’s questions. Must I say the same things all over again?”
“This time you will speak without any promptings from your household. Mistress Ashley and Master Parry are arrested and on their way to the Tower, where they will be questioned and the truth will be extracted from them.”
“Arrested!” Elizabeth cried, dropping her embroidery and clasping her hands. “No,” she gasped and burst into tears. “No! No! Oh, no. Not Kat! Oh, I beg you, Sir Robert, please bring them back to me. They have done no wrong. Truly they have not. Their only crime is to wish me happy. Please set them free. I will bid them to answer anything you ask, anything.”
“They are long gone and I would not bring them back even if it was within my power, which it is not.”
“Please, Sir Robert,” Elizabeth sobbed, “please. I will tell you anything you want. Only bring Kat back to me.”
“Certainly you will tell me anything I want to know. That is your duty and your own path to safety. Mistress Ashley and Master Parry have led you sadly astray and put you in great danger. Think on that. I will speak to you again when you have considered and calmed yourself.”
Chapter 35
The decision Sir Robert made to allow Elizabeth to stew in her own juice of fear was the end, although he did not know it, of his purpose of wringing a terrified confession from her. He compounded his error by summoning the household again to forbid her maidens to return to her. No one was to disturb Lady Elizabeth for any purpose, he commanded.
“Will you starve the lady?” Dunstan asked, loudly enough for the whole assembly to hear. “I do not think the other commissioners would be glad to hear of that.”
“No, no, of course not,” Tyrwhitt snapped, looking hard at the middle-aged man who had spoken. “And who are you?”
The question usually caused anyone who had addressed him in less than servile tones to shrink away. This man gave back as hard a glance as Tyrwhitt’s own, making Sir Robert suspect that he was more dangerous than he looked.
“My name is Sander Dunstan, and I have been Lady Elizabeth’s majordomo since she was three years old. I am naturally concerned for her well-being.” He spoke in a clear voice that drew heads toward him.
“Well, of course an evening meal will be carried to Lady Elizabeth’s chamber,” Tyrwhitt said coldly, aware of the appalled expressions on the faces turned to him.
Some of those faces, the maids of honor and the few gentlemen of the chamber were well connected to high families. There was no way he could silence them all and word of his depriving Elizabeth of food would surely spread. Tyrwhitt was furious. He had intended Elizabeth to be hungry and to believe her entire entourage had deserted her.
“But,” Sir Robert added, “she is not to be troubled by her ladies or anyone else. She has much to consider and needs time and privacy to do so.”
Only Sir Robert’s plan was already in shambles. As soon as the door to the parlor closed, Blanche rushed to Elizabeth and took her in her arms. She had, while seemingly being totally absorbed in her mending, heard every word, since she was far from either deaf or uninterested.
“Never you mind, love, never you mind,” Blanche said to the weeping, trembling girl. “Mistress Ashley may not have been very wise about praising Sir Thomas to you, but she must realize now what a mistake that was. She won’t say anything, and Master Parry, he doesn’t know anything, except what you’ve already told Sir Anthony. And anyhow, Lord Denno … he’ll get into the Tower and set everything right, you’ll see.”
That assurance was enough to lift Elizabeth out of the pit of panic and despair. Next she demanded an immediate rescue and deplored the fact that her life had been so pleasant and uneventful over the past few months that no air spirit was in attendance to bring Denno to her at once.
Blanche shook her head. “No, lovey, he can’t come now. What if that cream-faced loon should walk in on us.”
Elizabeth showed her teeth in what was not a smile. “I’d freeze him where he stood, Blanche. I’d freeze him so well, so truly, he would remain as a statue for the rest of his days.” She could never speak of Underhill, but there were many mortal ways to “freeze” an enemy. So as long as Elizabeth did not imply use of a spell, the words would come.
“No you wouldn’t,” Blanche said, laughing and snorting disdain. “What’d we do with him? Surely you wouldn’t want him standing about as a most unlovely ornament in your apartment.”
Elizabeth uttered a half-hysterical giggle. “No. He isn’t that decorative.”
But then she sobered and acknowledged that she would need to wait until Denno thought it safe to come. At least there would be no maiden to weave into a sleep spell. She tried for a little while to read, but the words made no sense to her and she took up her embroidery instead, idly asking Blanche why Tyrwhitt should have stared at it as if he had never seen embroidery before.
Blanche frowned. “I’m sorry he saw that piece.” And when Elizabeth raised a questioning brow at her, added, “It’s got the royal arms on it.”
“Well, of course it has,” Elizabeth replied, mildly irritated. “I am doing it for Edward.”
“Yes, only Sir Robert doesn’t know that. You’d better find a way to tell him or, better, get one of the ladies to tell him.”
Elizabeth’s eyes widened and grew dark. “You mean he thought I was doing it for myself? As if I should soon be … be … No.” She swallowed and blinked back rising tears. “Edward is young and strong. He will be a good king and for a long, happy reign.”
“We all hope so,” Blanche agreed.
“I am not so stupid as to embroider anything with the royal arms on it for myself.” Elizabeth was again indignant.
“No, of course not,” Blanche said. “And I hope you will not be so stupid as to ask the impossible from Lord Denno.”
Elizabeth started to reply, but there was a scratch on the door. Blanche scurried out of sight as soon as they heard the scratch, and Elizabeth herself went to let the groom in. She should have been annoyed over her need to do a servant’s duty, but she was too absorbed by her worry over what Blanche had last said to do more than nod civilly at the young man. Absently she looked at the meal he carried to her, gestured for him to set the tray on a table, and actually begin to eat before she waved him away.
Thus he carried back a very unsatisfactory report to Sir Robert. No, Lady Elizabeth had not rejected the food, she had begun to eat at once. No, he had not told Lady Elizabeth he was forbidden to speak to her because she had never spoken to him. No, she was not weeping. No, she did not seem distressed by the fact that she was all
alone and had to open the door herself, like a servant. No, she did not look at all frightened. And then, at last, Sir Robert got a yes. Yes, Lady Elizabeth seemed as if she was thinking deeply and seriously.
Elizabeth ate her meal, indeed thinking deeply and seriously. Once she was calm enough not to become hysterical, Blanche had pointed out that even Denno could not wave his hand and waft prisoners out of the Tower of London. And even if he could, it would not be very sensible because a hue and cry would be raised for the missing prisoners. That would mean the end of their lives for Kat and Parry.
“But they would be alive,” Elizabeth protested.
“Would they?” Blanch asked, brows raised. “Parry would lose the work he so dearly loves. He would have nothing to manage, no plans to make, no friends to impress. Kat would lose you and Ashley, the loves of her life. She would be empty with no one to care for, no one to love.”
“But the Tower …” Elizabeth’s voice trembled.
“Many come out and resume their lives.”
Elizabeth shuddered. “Many do not.”
She was thinking of her mother, but she never spoke of Ann, had not mentioned her name since she was a child of three. She was thinking of all those who, although innocent, died with Ann and of Katherine Howard and her lovers. Elizabeth shivered again. They were all dead already and it was useless to worry about them. She had better think of herself. If she went to the Tower, she would never come out alive.
So when Denno stepped through his Gate, she flung herself into his arms and burst into a storm of weeping. “He has arrested Kat and Parry,” she sobbed, “and sent them to the Tower. You must save them. Blanche says you cannot, but you must be able to do something!”
The truth was that he could not, but he did not want to try to reason with her when she was in this state. He stroked her hair. “Elizabeth, come with me where it will be safe to talk.”
“No.” She shook her head vehemently, gulping. “I cannot leave. He comes in without warning and he doesn’t care a bit about things like invading my bedchamber. I don’t dare not be here.”
By Slanderous Tongues Page 53