‘Adultery.’
Cromwell’s golden eyes settled on Nicòla’s gaze and they remained silent for a moment. ‘Adultery? Anne is loyal.’
‘We lie. We set up men, create the evidence. The right bribe can make any person say anything. If Anne is accused of adultery, thus found guilty of treason, it annuls the marriage. Henry could commute the sentence of death to life in the Tower.’
‘Yes. We cannot have Anne beheaded for treason. She is an anointed queen. I would never dream of killing Anne even if she wanted me dead.’
‘And she does, we know Anne wants you dead, Tom. It would be easy enough to do. I am in the Queen’s chambers often, I see who is there, what they say. Norris is there constantly, as is Weston. They both laughed, stating that they are there to seek the love of their queen. Wyatt and Smeaton are there constantly, so they could be innocent witnesses.’
‘Weston and Norris were witnesses at Henry’s private London wedding to Anne,’ Cromwell said as he thought. ‘Who else came with us that night?’
‘William Brereton, that old toad.’
‘Yes, Brereton. If we shamed those three men with adultery, they too could be jailed and silenced. That will be revenge upon Brereton for his actions in Wales, defying my authority and killing poor John ap Griffith Eyton. Anne brought two of her ladies to the ceremony.’
‘Yes, Margery Horsman. She is beguiled in your presence, and she was deflowered by George Boleyn, it seems without pleasure or consent. She would make an excellent witness. The other woman present was Nan Bray, Baroness Cobham. And let us not forget Elizabeth Somerset, Countess of Worcester. She is Anne’s attendant yet visits Henry’s bed.’
‘But what of the rest of the Boleyns?’
‘They shall be diminished once Anne is discredited. The Boleyns have few allies at court. We have an alliance forming between the Seymours, with the Poles, Exeters, the Lady Mary supporters, the Catholics, Suffolk, Carew and the Katherine supporters. We must be on both sides if we are to be safe. We take Anne to trial for treason, and she is imprisoned, not executed, or mayhap banished like poor Katherine.’
‘You speak as if this would be easy.’
‘I have a message, from the Queen’s own chamber, written by Mark Smeaton himself! He says Anne was in a mood and yelled at Henry Norris. Anne claimed Norris “looked for dead men’s shoes” because he looked to have Anne for himself if the King died! That could be evidence.’
‘That is treason!’
‘Weston laughed at the argument and said Anne should be his love, not Norris’, and that he wanted her.’
‘Is it that simple, to try a queen for treason?’
‘You created a queen; why not break one down as well? You defeated Katherine of Aragon, so Anne Boleyn would not be so difficult. Henry can have Anne or Jane, whatever he chooses. Fitzroy can become the heir. Lady Mary would be happy to see the end of Anne Boleyn. We could have peace and continue with the Reformation.’
‘Have you heard of a commission of oyer and terminer? It is an obscure law made 300 years past, where a court is set up, a special grand jury, held in the county where the crime is committed. Oyer and terminer courts only deal with serious cases. If Audley can organise this, with the permission of the King, we could see a queen before a court. But we shall need witness statements, whether real or paid for, victims set up, times, places, dates, and we must arrange everything, then make sure the judges have no choice but to find in favour of the result I desire. We must set up the court in secret, so Anne has no time to win Henry’s love, and we can fill the judges’ seats with men angry at Anne for various reasons. We must do all before Henry and Anne leave for Calais for their scheduled trip in early May.’
‘That trip is but two weeks away,’ Nicòla replied. ‘Can we achieve all in two weeks?’
‘Do we have a choice? We plan and then return to court. People shall think we are at Austin Friars as I sit away from Henry’s temper. It is not entirely untrue, but they shall not learn of our plan. We must recall my nephew Richard at once, for he shall be part of this plan. He is a member of Privy Council and beyond reproach. God bless you, Nicò, for you have given me a reason to live.’
‘Planning to frame a queen for treason to have her imprisoned for life is a reason to live?’ Nicòla frowned.
Cromwell grabbed Nicòla by the shoulders and kissed her. ‘I am hated by the nobles for being low born and hated by the commoners for discovering how to control them through tax and religion. I might as well go down fighting, either die or live to see an anointed queen imprisoned. That is something history can remember me for, do you not think?’
C
Chapter 40 – April 1536
you can lye to yourself, but you myght not beelieve yourself
Stepney, outer London
Retreating to Stepney was a move of genius. Now Cromwell was outside London, “scared to return to court,” or so everyone thought. Everyone gathered at Greenwich Palace, ready for the May Day celebrations, but the King had scared Cromwell, the Chief Minister, away from court, now hiding with his son Gregory.
That was the story spun by Ralph, a rumour which soared around the thousands at court within hours. The truth bore a different likeness; in the countryside peace, Cromwell could plan the downfall of his own queen. Letters came and went from court, giving little pieces of news, all the false rumours written up in Nicòla’s hand on Cromwell’s orders. For all the work needed to make Anne a queen, it took precious little to remove her. Any woman slandered with adultery had no chance to recover from such shame. To take down a great queen such as Queen Katherine needed Cromwell to fight the Pope, take on God himself, yet for Anne, it took a mere rumour. Anne, for all her education and her attention to politics, she lacked so many skills Katherine possessed; for one not born to rule could never see all the tiny details needed to make a great monarch. For Cromwell, as a commoner born, a commoner always, all he needed was the law, and people prepared to lie for his cause.
Those people, those he trusted, were all summoned to Stepney, so planning remained as quiet as possible in a sea of gossip, idle minds and talkative wastrels.
The library, home to a rounded table, was where Cromwell seated his allies. Normally a place for Gregory’s education, today he sat outside with his tutors, little Jane alongside them; the visit to Stepney needed to be a family occasion rather than a plot to destroy a sitting queen, a plan that would see all at the round table attainted for treason if they failed.
Cromwell looked up from his papers. To his left sat his nephew Richard, his hands clasped upon the dark table top. A man of the Privy Council, Richard Cromwell was a man of high standing, a man who would soon play a keen role in the governance of England. Beside him sat Thomas Wriothesley, the arrogant lawyer desperate for Cromwell’s favour. His ginger-tinged beard needed a trim, so unlike Wriothesley, such a vain man. Beside him sat Nicòla, dressed not in her glowing colours today, her glorious hair pinned up under her soft cap, wearing the plain black livery of the Cromwell household. She leaned back in her chair, her little hands on the armrests, most comfortable for someone who had helped create such a powerful plan in a matter of days.
Next to Nicòla sat Sir Richard Rich, an immoral man even at his best. He was ready to sit at the head of the Court of Augmentations, which would oversee the dissolution of the monasteries. At his side next to Cromwell himself sat Ralph, his son in all but name. Ralph knew more of the plans than the others, who were in the dark about proceedings, except Nicòla. But there were things even Nicòla knew not; for Cromwell could only trust himself in this most dangerous of plans. The conversation over the early afternoon meal had been one of the most awkward the group had ever shared, and now in the library, over wine, things had taken a serious tone. Now Cromwell was ready to share.
‘Gentlemen, I bring you hither due to my keen need for family, friends and allies.’
‘If you need fealty, uncle, you need not ask,’ Richard replied. Other heads around the table all nod
ded.
‘I do, I need fealty most keenly,’ Cromwell admitted. ‘For in this court, trusting friends can be difficult, hard to understand and dangerous to respect. I bring you hither to tell you of a most heinous crime committed, and I fear, if I am not believed, my head shall part my body. Chancellor Audley has issued me with a commission of oyer and terminer. We shall set up grand juries in Middlesex and Kent where crimes were committed.’
‘Oyer and terminer? They are ancient court rules,’ Rich commented. ‘I have never heard of them ever being used, surely a grand jury has not been used in one hundred years or more.’
‘I have serious crimes to investigate,’ Cromwell replied. ‘While the local sheriffs could have selected jurors in a trial, I can appoint nobles as the oyer and terminer jury, to ensure a favourable result.’
‘Commissions of oyer and terminer are appointed after someone arrests an accused,’ Wriothesley added. ‘Whom do these courts judge?’
‘There have been no arrests,’ Cromwell replied and shifted in his seat. ‘No part of the case has precedent. We have all studied the law and need to be prudent in this case.’
‘Leave us not with secrets,’ Rich said. ‘Tell us all, for you have caught my intrigue.’
‘First, Sir Richard, I wish to make it known you shall soon be sworn in as Speaker in the House of Commons, besides being the Solicitor General. I also want you to oversee the dissolution of the monasteries, which shall make you a wealthy and well-respected lawyer.’
‘I shall do anything asked of me,’ Rich uttered in surprise.
‘Remember such words.’ Cromwell turned to Wriothesley. ‘Thomas, if you continue to serve me, I shall ensure you soon receive a knighthood. You are Clerk of the Signet and I will appoint you ambassador to Brussels, where you can represent the crown’s merchant dealings.’
Wriothesley nodded in surprise and silence. Cromwell could almost see gold coin reflected in his greedy brown eyes.
Cromwell shifted in his seat again. ‘Now, gentlemen. I must share with you the gravest of news. An indecent and profound crime against our most glorious Majesty. To say such words out loud grieves me so.’ The moment the words entered the ears of any person other than Nicòla, there would be no going back for Cromwell. ‘Some say that Queen Anne, our gracious King’s wife, has committed the offence of adultery.’
Cromwell waited in reply. No yelling occurred, no shock, no anger, only silence. Ralph and Nicòla shared a look; Richard stared at his uncle with a frown. The mouths of both Rich and Wriothesley hung open.
‘Has the King said such words?’ Richard asked. ‘Is this so Henry can make Mistress Seymour his new wife?’
‘The King knows nothing of this, and yet he must be informed, but only if we can gain evidence,’ Cromwell instructed. ‘We cannot act without evidence or a confession.’
‘Who would dare confess to such things?’ Wriothesley scoffed. ‘None would admit to such a crime, and we could torture no nobleman.’
‘We can torture a man close to Anne, who is not noble.’
‘If we rack a man in the Tower for adultery with a queen, then everyone shall know in moments,’ Richard said with a shake of his head. ‘No one could keep that secret after such an act.’
‘Rather than using torture, or seeking Anne’s confession, we must gain witnesses. Queen Anne has many ladies in her chambers, all of which know every detail of her life. They have seen all, heard all,’ Nicòla said as she laced her fingers together.
‘Who would trust the word of a woman?’ Rich asked with a gentle laugh. ‘They will say whatever their families instruct them to say.’
‘I know, but women can be tormented, frightened into saying something that fine legal minds can craft into evidence,’ Cromwell replied.
Nicòla’s gaze fell to the tabletop while the others nodded. Cromwell felt pain for saying such a thing before Nicòla’s ears, be it true in cases of the other women.
‘Mr. Frescobaldi, you have spent much time in the Queen’s company, at her request. You were present during several miscarriages, were you not?’ Rich asked. ‘You would make a fine witness, with the trusty reputation of any man.’
‘We could torture you for a confession,’ Wriothesley laughed.
‘No man shall place a finger upon Mr. Frescobaldi,’ Cromwell shut down the gentle laughter.
‘Who committed such crimes?’ Richard asked.
Cromwell looked to the papers before him and pulled one from its hiding place in the centre. All names were written in Nicòla’s fine hand.
Cromwell caught Nicòla’s gaze again. This was the list they had come up with over earlier days; men who could be trapped into crimes, with others innocent, to make the hunt look if it were real and not planned from a fantasy.
‘Sir Henry Norris, Groom of the Stool in the Privy Chamber, Keeper of the Privy Purse, Gentleman-Usher of the Black Rod, Chamberlain of North Wales and Constable of Beaumaris Castle. Tis noted Sir Henry is courting Margaret Shelton and spends much time in the Queen’s company.’
‘Anne accused Norris of looking to have her after the King’s death just days ago,’ Ralph reported. ‘And His Majesty knows of this.’
‘Anne and Norris?’ Rich frowned. ‘I suppose it could be true…’
‘Sir Francis Weston,’ Cromwell continued over Rich. ‘Gentleman of the Privy Chamber, Knight of the Bath. The young courtier spends much time with the Queen for no obvious reason other than to spend time with Anne, rather than attending to the King, or at home with his wife and newborn son.’
‘Young, handsome, appearing innocent,’ Nicòla said. ‘I have heard him speak at length of his fondness for Anne.’
‘Sir Richard Page, Gentleman of the Privy Chamber,’ Cromwell continued. ‘Sir Richard is a supporter of the Queen, ever since he abandoned working in Cardinal Wolsey’s household to support Anne. He is Captain of the King’s bodyguards, giving him special access to Anne.’
‘Page is not a young man,’ Richard replied. ‘His wife is mother to Lady Anne Stanhope, Edward Seymour’s new wife.’
‘Just because Page is related to the Seymours does not mean we can discount his involvement in this scandal. We also cannot overlook Sir Thomas Wyatt,’ Cromwell continued and saw Nicòla wince. She did not wish to question her friend Wyatt but had little choice. ‘Wyatt has loved Anne since the time of their childhood. We have confirmed no rumours, but we still must investigate.’
This time the table fell silent. All liked Wyatt, a sweet man, a friend to many. Only Cromwell and Nicòla knew Wyatt would be found innocent.
‘There is also Sir William Brereton, younger than Norris and Groom of the King’s Privy Chamber. Anne has told me of her trust in Brereton. Brereton is an awful man, a man who abuses the powers of his royal grants in Cheshire and the Welsh marshes. That man could go to any lengths for his desires. Let us not forget Sir Francis Bryan, a skirt chaser of a great number, and always friendly to the Queen. Anne may be his cousin but still… Bryan could be a good ally, for he shall cry his innocence. Bryan would admit to bedding any woman with joy, but he would never admit to defiling the King’s wife, his own cousin. His mother is raising Princess Elizabeth and raised Lady Mary and Henry Fitzroy. Bryan would do anything to clear the family name. Bryan’s sister, Elizabeth was the King’s whore at age thirteen, sold off to be Nicholas Carew’s wife and now only an occasional mistress to the King now…’
‘And now Carew, Knight of the Garter, would do anything to oust Anne,’ Rich said with a grin. ‘I see this plan. Guilt is unnecessary, only the assumption of guilt. I care not if Anne is innocent or guilty. I shall help you in this endeavour, Secretary Cromwell.’
‘Good. Let us not discount William Latimer, a priest close to Anne. To debase herself with a priest, her own cousin, and one of Henry’s longest friends? This shall bring down the King’s moods and we must be careful, but also get through this,’ Cromwell instructed. ‘The King is to leave for Calais with Queen Anne in a few days, so we must move fast, and
…’
The sound of distant voices cut short Cromwell’s words. Someone had arrived at the house and Cromwell’s worries jumped in his stomach. This was the moment Nicòla would turn from the whole plan.
‘I pity the man who takes the news to the King,’ Rich commented.
‘That shall be you, Richard,’ Cromwell turned his nephew. ‘A man whose name is honourable, whose reputation is exemplary. Devise to give His Majesty the news in public where he dares not lose his dignity.’
‘But how shall we gain any confessions on this most grievous of crimes without awakening suspicion?’ Rich asked. He appeared almost excited to find evidence of a crime which had never occurred. How easy it was to find accomplices for such a lamentable act.
A brisk knock and one of the house’s young servants appeared. ‘Secretary Cromwell, your guest has arrived.’
‘Most excellent, show him to our table. We shall need another chair, and wine for our guest. Have you the bag I requested?’
The young man stepped aside and in came Mark Smeaton. The young musician, the envy of many at court, had dressed in his finery, a most beautiful red doublet and hose, glittering in fine detailing. In one hand he held his lute, the other a beautiful red velvet cap.
‘Secretary Cromwell,’ he said with a wide smile which spread through the group. ‘How nice of you to invite me to your home. I see you are having a private gathering ahead of the May Day deliberations tomorrow. I adore invitations to Stepney, for I have never visited this most delightful country home! I saw Gregory and baby Jane in the garden. How splendid your family has become!’
Nicòla rose from her seat to embrace her dear friend while the others moved their chairs to accommodate Mark, sitting beside Cromwell. ‘We do so miss you at court,’ Mark continued as a servant poured wine in everyone’s glasses.
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