Betrayal (61 page)

             
“Well, then he can’t be Elisabeth’s boy then,” Lydia sighed.

             
“Not necessarily, it doesn’t say he was born in London only that he may have been born in London and that’s a big difference,” Alan countered.

             
“And if the boy was indeed illegitimate and his father did not acknowledge him during his lifetime he could have been Elisabeth’s boy,” Ella offered.

             
“So, is there an Eccleshall near Lichfield?  Where is Lichfield anyway?”

             
“Lichfield, you say?” Henry said, as he sat rubbing his chin with his hand. “It’s a cathedral town in Staffordshire. I was stationed near there, at Ternhill. And if I remember correctly, Eccleshall is nearby.  It has a lovely old Bishop’s palace called Eccleshall Castle. Let me check something in the library,” Henry said, leaving Alan’s bedroom.  A few minutes later he was back with an atlas which he spread open on the bed.   “Lichfield is here in Staffordshire, and see, here is Eccleshall. Would they have sent Elisabeth so far from Court? Doesn’t seem possible does it?”

             
“No, but it doesn’t disprove anything either; it just shows we cannot prove our assumption that George Boleyn, Dean of Lichfield, was Elisabeth’s boy,” Alan said.

“What an exercise in futility!” Lydia sighed heavily.

              “But we did learn that George Boleyn, Lord Rochford, had an illegitimate son,” Henry said. 

             
“Yes, but that doesn’t make him Elisabeth’s son.”

             
“We are arguing in circles.  Let’s go back to the letter,” Alan suggested.

             
“But first we should get dressed and have some breakfast,” Ella said. “I hear Jan moving around downstairs.”

             
“No Aunt Ella, we can’t leave this now,” Lydia pleaded.

             
“Well, at least let’s get dressed and go down to the lounge,” Henry suggested.

             
“Yes, that’s a good idea,” Dan said “Meet you all downstairs.” He returned to his bedroom.

             
Henry and Ella left the room whispering about what they had just heard.

             
Alan closed the atlas and moved it to a chair. Closing his door he turned to the closet and his clothes.

***

             
The blazing fire Jan had set in the hearth in the lounge was already chasing the mid-winter’s chill from the room when the little group reassembled.

             
Henry and Ella were already seated on the Knowles sofa with Dan standing by the hearth when Alan came into the room.

             
“Where’s Lydia?” he asked, surprised to find she wasn’t already there.

             
“Gone to her room for the letter I suspect,” Henry said, gaining his feet and crossing to the fireplace.  “What do you suppose this is all about?” he asked turning to Alan.

             
“I’m not sure but it appears the letter is a confession of sorts,” Alan replied looking toward the door. “I do wish Lydia would hurry.”

             
“Patience, my boy,” Henry said, “the letter has waited almost four hundred and fifty years to be read, it can wait a few more minutes.”

             
Alan nodded his assent then walked to the window. He liked this view of the garden with the small church of All Saints in the background. He turned quickly on his heel when he heard Lydia enter the room.

             
“Where have you been?” he asked sharply.

             
Lydia blushed.  “I went to my room to fetch the letter.”

             
Alan frowned and apologized. “Forgive my sharp tone; it was uncalled for, it’s only that I am anxious to get on with it. Please forgive me.”

             
Lydia smiled saying, “I am as anxious as you are. Shall we get started?”

             
“Here, here,” Henry said, nodding his agreement while Ella simply nodded her head.

             
“Why don’t you sit down on the sofa next to Ella?” Alan said as he pulled one of the leather wing-back chairs closer before continuing, “And Henry, you can bring that one over,” Alan said pointing to the matching oxblood leather wing-back chair.

             
After Henry had settled himself across from Lydia, she began to open the parchment package.

             
“Where were we?” she asked as she smoothed the papers on her lap. “Oh, yes, here, where she writes of loving another woman’s husband. I like how she puts it,” Lydia said. Quoting from the letter she continued, “
Truly one cannot help where the heart finds love
.”  She looked at Alan meaningfully.

             
He smiled and nodded his head almost imperceptivity. “Yes,” he said, “that’s where we left off.”

             
Lydia blushed slightly as she dipped her head to begin reading.             

‘
Three ladies of the Court appeared before the judges and gave testimony against Queene Anne; Anne Braye, the Lady Cobham, Elizabeth Browne, the Lady Worcester, but I do not know the name of the last.

             
One other gave testimony by letter, the most damning of all, for it named names and dates of my lady Queene’s indiscretions. This was from a servant in the Queene’s own bedchamber. Dearest one, it grieves me sore to tell you, but I must, for now that I am ill only you can right this wrong.  I am the servant whose name is scrawled at the bottom of the letter of accusation, but before God and all His Saints, I swear I did not write it.

             
Tho’ my testimony was not read in court where my husband, God curse him, was in attendance, it was read by the King.  Andrew told me afterward that Cromwell had kept it in abeyance should he need it to convict. Praise God, he did not.

             
I was still locked within the Tower of London when my lady Queene was tried. I knew nothing of my supposed testimony until after your birth here at Morely’s Cross. My husband had but to take one look at you to know you were not his. Even as a mere babe you had your father’s rich dark looks. You bear noble blood in you yet I cannot reveal thy father’s name for it is still not safe to do so. But know you this, that you were conceived in love and desired by your father above all else and had he lived, we would have all been together somehow. If only the fates had been kind, your father would have claimed you and your life would have been so different. But, perhaps, it was my wickedness in loving a married man that is at fault.

             
After the Queene’s execution friends brought me to Morley’s Cross where I awaited your birth with my cousin’s family. I stayed on until my husband’s sudden arrival in late 1537.

             
My husband arrived one night shouting “The Queene has been safely delivered of a son on the eve of the Feast of St. Edward, this 12
th
of October past.”

             
“How fares the Queene?” we asked as one voice.

             
“She lies beneath the altar in the chapel at Windsor, dying a scant twelve days after her lying-in.”

             
“God save her soul,” I whispered.

             
“Why?” Andrew said. “She has performed her work, as you have not; she has given her husband a son.”

             
“
Her soul has need of prayers,” I answered. “Queene Jane’s over quick marriage with the King after my lady Queene’s betrayal was a disgrace.”

             
“Who are you to speak so?” he said as he leaned close to me, “Only a whore who betrayed both husband and her own Mistress.”

             
“What are you saying?” Olivia demanded, pulling her unwieldy body to her feet for she was heavily pregnant with my cousin’s child, your husband Edward.”

             
“What?” shouted Alan, “what did you say? Read that again Lydia.”

             
‘
for she was heavily pregnant with my cousin’s child, your husband Edward.’

             
“Whose husband was she speaking of?” Ella asked confused.

             
“The letter is to her daughter Sarah so it must be Sarah’s husband,” Alan replied.

             
“Sarah married her cousin?” Ella cried out in shock.

“It appears so, old dear,” Henry said quietly. “Edward Hays-Morely would have been her second cousin.”

              “But, that would be within the forbidden degrees of kinship!” Ella exclaimed. “That is against church law.”

             
“But not unknown,” Henry said quietly.

             
“No, not unknown,” Ella agreed quietly as she sat staring into the fire.

             
“Why are you so upset, old girl?” Henry asked as he moved to stand by Ella’s side, taking her hand in his own. “This all happened more than four hundred years ago and there was no bad affect on the family.”

             
“I know, dearest, it was just the shock of it,” Ella said raising his hand to her lips. “What else does she say, Lydia?”

             
Lydia took a deep breath before continuing:             

             
“Here,” Andrew shouted as he pulled a piece of parchment from his doublet. “Here is all the proof you need of Elisabeth’s treachery” he said as he pressed the paper into Olivia’s hand.  “Now that the King has a healthy son, Lord Cromwell no longer needs to hold this back.”

             
I started in confusion as I watched Olivia’s face change as she read the parchment.

             
“Did you write this?” she demanded as she waved the paper in my face.

             
Oh, dearest one, how can I tell ye what that letter contained? No, I cannot, it is here for you to read yourself.

That monster that was my husband, may the Devil take his soul, bought his favor with Cromwell and the Seymour family with the lies to which he signed my name. He sought a place of honor with his betrayal. Now he sought revenge. He took me to Lifton where after bearing him three sons, he demanded we separate. He moved me to a small holding near Penselwood, where I lived as Elisabeth Beeton, widow.

I beg you daughter to compare the hands in which that letter and this are written and you will know that Andrew lied when he told you and your brothers that I betrayed my Mistress and was therefore unworthy of trust.

             
He kept me a virtual prisoner in his home near Lifton. You know the beatings I suffered at his hands, for you suffered them too until I was able to send you to Jamie and Olivia at Morely’s Cross.

             
Only at his death was I freed of my enslavement when your brother Samuel sent me from my home to come to Morely’s Cross to live with you and Edward.

             
Andrew never forgave me for loving another man and not him. I tried, Sarah, truly I did try, but one cannot help where the heart finds love.

             
I grow tired and must put my pen to rest. I have told you the truth, all that I can tell you. I fear your brothers, being their father’s sons will not listen easily to it. But I beg you to try to tell them the truth. For soon I will meet my God and I would that I could  meet Him knowing that my children have been told the truth of that terrible time.

             
Signed:     Elisabeth Beeton Tremayne’

             
“Wow!” Lydia said as she laid the precious papers back down in her lap.

             
“Do you think it’s true?” Ella asked timidly.

             
“It is her dying testament, why should we doubt it?” Alan asked, leaning forward to look at the papers in Lydia’s lap.

             
“But it seems so incredible, doesn’t it?” Ella asked.

             
“Why incredible?” Henry asked his wife.

             
“Well, that it should be found in our attic.”

             
“If her daughter was married to a member of the Hays-Morely family it is perfectly reasonable.”

             
“But was she?”

             
“Old girl, you are a suspicious soul. Tomorrow we will arrange to meet with Vicar Summerfield and make a check of the parish records. Will that suit you?”

             
“Would they have married in the church, being second cousins as they were?”