Between Two Kings (29 page)

It was undoubtedly a letter written in George’s handwriting. How could this letter be here, in her chamber? George was dead, in purgatory or in hell, paying for the carnal sins he’d committed when he became the lover of the musician Mark Smeaton. No, it wasn’t possible – her mind was playing jokes with her. Yet, somehow the letter had appeared in her room.

Jane didn’t wish to believe that George had returned from hell to make her pay for her her lies about Anne Boleyn and George. It was true that Jane had lied to Thomas Cromwell when he interrogated her. Jane lied and would have repeated her lies under oath if it was necessary, even though she had known the harsh consequences of George’s treason. If George was found guilty of treason, all their possessions would have been confiscated by the Crown. Consequently, if George was executed and stripped of all his titles, she would have been left penniless, with only her jointure to rely on for her living. If George died on the scaffold, she would become the disgraced widow of a traitor, banished from the court and scorned by everybody.

She was ready to reconcile with the thought that her future was to be dark. She was resigned to the fact that she would probably never wear expensive dresses again, would never attend tournaments and festivities at the court, and would never eat from silver and gilt plates, depending on her parents’ charity for the rest of her life. The lands and the estates weren’t important for Jane Boleyn – all what she wanted was a way out of her dreadful marriage to George.

During her interrogation, Jane was bombarded by multitudinous questions that were both unflagging and incessant, but the general line was clear – Cromwell wanted something that could condemn Anne Boleyn to death. At first, Jane supplied Cromwell with much circumstantial froth that could have been used against Anne and against any man whose name slipped from Jane’s tongue. Then she was directly asked about the probability of an incestuous relationship between George and Anne. After a short pause in the interrogation, Jane grasped what she must say to the chief minister in order to be free of George. As a result, she lied without any hesitation, accusing Anne of having a flagitious incestuous relationship with George.

At that moment, Jane felt that even Cromwell was astonished with her categorical assertion about Anne and George. When the interrogation ended, the preposterous charge that George had fulfilled the role of the dutiful brother by offering himself as a natural father for the king’s future son was confirmed by Jane’s words. After she had finished her testimony, she knew that her chances of staying a wife rather than a widow appeared to be slim. George’s fate was sealed.

Jane was humiliated and disgusted with her marriage. Her husband had abandoned her bed for a man’s bed and didn’t deny it when she confronted him about it. It was true that Anne Boleyn loved George as a brother and they were very close, so Jane was convinced Anne would never believe that George had been regularly sleeping with Mark Smeaton. Jane wanted a divorce, but it was clear that nobody from Thomas Boleyn, Anne Boleyn, to King Henry would approve of her idea of divorcing her husband or being permanently separated from him. There was no single person who could help her to be separated from George, and she was trapped in her doomed marriage.

Cromwell offered Jane a way out of her misery and she accepted it. She wanted George to pay for the pain and sorrow she’d endured throughout their marriage. She even didn’t dare think that she had condemned not only George, but also an innocent woman – Queen Anne Boleyn. Queen Anne was arrogant and sometimes unkind to Jane, and many people hated her so Jane had used that moment to accuse her sister-in-law as well. No, she’d done everything correctly. George had committed a mortal sin – sodomy – and was punished for it. Anne Boleyn had been doomed when she didn’t give the king a son and was also punished. Jane had nothing to repent for.

Shocked and perplexed, Jane Boleyn stood up from the bed. She went to the window and sat there, placing herself within the window embrasure, arms wrapped around her legs, her profusion of golden curls loose on her shoulders meeting the silver medallion at her chest. As she stared down, she again saw the letter in her hand and began to cry. Soon her eyes were so full of warm tears that she could barely see something else. Why was George tormenting her even after his death? He’d paid for his carnal sins when he was executed. He’d degraded and tormented her when he was alive. Why did she have to suffer even after his death?

Jane went back to her narrow bed and slid under the bedcovers. She wanted sleep to claim her, desperately hoping that today George and Anne wouldn’t come to her in her dreams and accuse her of their deaths. However, she was mistaken. She awoke in a cold sweat in the early morning hours after the same dreadful nightmare with a headless George and Anne with burnt skin. They again accused her of the lies that had condemned them to death.

In her dream, Jane saw the headless and bloodstained George near her bed, holding his head in his hands and laughing at her. He didn’t speak, he just laughed at the top of his lungs. Then George’s laugh faded away, and he told her that he would haunt her till her dying day. It was a continuous nightmare for Jane Boleyn, and the worst was that she didn’t know when Anne and George would stop haunting her.

Then she awoke, opening her eyes and staring aimlessly into the darkness. Headless George again appeared near her, the upper part of his body drenched in blood. She screamed and cupped her face with her hands, afraid to look. Then George disappeared and she was alone in the room. Did he come to her or was she dreaming? Jane Boleyn spent the rest of the night sobbing.

The next morning, Jane joined many courtiers as they walked in a procession into the stone chapel to spend the morning in prayer and meditation. Although it was rather warm in the chapel, she was stiff with cold, her limbs trembling under the muslin fabric of her gown.

Jane wanted to pray and beg George not to haunt her every night. While she sat on the wooden pew looking at the altar, she silently confessed her sins and then participated in the sacred mass. She took an oath that she would worship God and the king till her dying day if only George and Anne would stop visiting her and sending her letters. However, God didn’t answer her; instead, she again heard George’s words that she needed to confess in order to avoid the eternal damnation of her soul. With that threat screaming in her ears she was unable to remain in the church. She blessed herself with the cross and walked to the exit under the astounded glances of the courtiers.

Over the week, Jane received two more parchments from George. In one of them George asked her to reveal the truth to King Henry about her lies either of her own accord or when she was asked by the king’s counselors if she was arrested. In another note, George wrote that Jane would broil and frizzle in hell after her death if she didn’t confess her crimes. Jane was in abject horror. She thought that she plunged into temporary madness. She always burnt the letters after she had read them.

Jane Boleyn didn’t know that the parchments she received had been left in her chamber by Philippe de Chabot. The parchments were written by Chabot himself as he was highly skilled at fabricating handwriting. His sovereign King François had known this and asked Chabot for help. He had found George’s handwriting and just copied it, writing the phrases King François instructed him to in a letter from Venice. Chabot didn’t know why the French King asked him to do that. But he was a loyal subject of France and a friend of the king, and he obeyed the king’s orders. For King François, it was simply a method of influencing Jane Boleyn’s conscience from a distance. He and Anne had decided to frighten Jane.

CHAPTER 15

November 1537, the Palace of Whitehall, London, England

Streaming with perspiration and utterly exhausted, Jane Seymour rested on a canopied, curtained bed. Despite being very tired, Jane was overjoyed because she had just succeeded where others had failed. The labor was time-consuming and had taken two days, and Jane lost consciousness several times during the process of her child’s delivery into the world.

But all the troubles were negated by the excellent result – Jane had given birth to the king’s son, the legitimate heir to the throne of England and the Prince of Wales. Jane had succeeded where Queen Catherine and the harlot Anne Boleyn had failed; both proving incapable of giving a son to the king.

Jane was blessed with a son because she had been an obedient, loyal, and loving wife. Jane said the same things to herself several times. Now Jane and her family were safe. She had given a precious, long-awaited son to her husband. She was the best wife Henry could have wished to have, she mused. Henry would love her for the rest of her life and from the bottom of his heart. Jane’s mind was clouded with dreaming about her future life.

Standing near Jane’s bed, Lady Mary Tudor bent down her head. She smiled brightly. “Your Majesty, you have done it! My father has a son, and I have a dear brother.” She realized that her chances to ever become the queen had been greatly diminished by the birth of her new brother. However, she liked Jane and accepted her as the Queen of England.

Jane smiled a slow, vague smile. “Lady Mary, I am so happy.” Her voice was weak and tired.

“Your Majesty, you have given my father and England such a precious gift,” Lady Mary declared.

“Lady Mary, thank you for staying with me during the labor,” Jane said with gratitude. She closed her eyes for an instant in exhaustion.

Lady Mary took the small bundle in her hands and began to cradle the child. She was happy that her father had a son now. At the same time, she asked herself whether she would ever be allowed to marry and have her own children. Her father hadn’t spoken about Mary’s fate for a very long, long time. Was he at least thinking about his daughter’s marriage? Mary couldn’t believe that her father had abandoned the idea of making happy his dear daughter, “the pearl of his world”. Mary smiled at the infant in her hands. “Your Majesty, you can hold your son now,” she said gently.

Jane opened her eyes. She smiled broadly as Mary handed her newborn son. “My dear baby, my dear son,” she purred. She placed a kiss on the soft cheek of her son. “You are our small Prince of Wales.”

For Jane, her son was a little wonder. He was perfect. It didn’t matter that his birth took two long and difficult days, all the pain she had endured was well worth it. A mother’s instinct filled her heart with softness, tenderness, and love to the small creature in her arms.

Edward Seymour, the Earl of Hertford, frowned as he didn’t like two things. Firstly, he didn’t like that the child looked so pale, his skin almost bloodless. He tried to attribute it to Jane’s natural paleness, but there was something strange in that child. He noticed it even from a distance. Secondly, the child wasn’t crying, and the silence of the child disturbed him. Nobody heard any loud cry and whimpering either when the child was born or in the aftermath of the birth. Edward found that to be suspicious.

Edward Seymour’s eyes wandered across the room, skipping from the happily twittering Lady Mary to Queen Jane with the child in her hands. His eyes stopped on Doctor Linacre whose expression was so distant and so impenetrable that Edward felt a shiver running down his spine. Why wasn’t the doctor as happy as the mother of the child? What did the iron mask on the physician’s face cover? Was it fear or gloominess?

King Henry stormed into the bedchamber and rushed to Queen Jane’s bed. He was on the brink of happy madness and blind rapture when he was told that he had finally had a son. As soon as he heard that the labor was finished, Henry nearly ran to the queen’s chamber, stumbling into the courtiers whom he met on his way. The first thought that came to his mind was that he had done everything correctly when he had married Jane so quickly after the death of Anne Boleyn.

Jane smiled. “Your Majesty, do you want to hold your son?” She handed the bundle to the king.

Henry smiled happily, his white teeth luminescent. “My son, my son! Thanks be to God!” he exclaimed. “I will name my son Edward since it is a happy name for the king. He will be the great King Edward.”

“He is England’s prince,” Jane said with a smile.

Henry took the infant in his arms and began to cradle the child. The boy opened his aquamarine eyes, the same color as his father’s. As if mesmerized, Henry continued cradling the child for several minutes. The child looked at his father, but he didn’t cry – he was very quiet. Henry was dumbfounded, turning his face to Doctor Linacre. “Doctor Linacre, why is my son so quiet? Why isn’t my son crying?”

Doctor Linacre shrugged helplessly. “The child wasn’t crying when he was born.”

Henry frowned. “Why, Doctor Linacre?”

Queen Jane and Lady Mary Tudor exchanged worried glances. Edward Seymour shuddered. They all stared at Doctor Linacre in anticipation. Edward had a bad sense of foreboding and that thought suffocated him.

Doctor Linacre sighed heavily. “Your Majesty, your son is quite a healthy boy in his physical characteristics, although he is a little pale. The boy has a strong complexion.” He paused, thinking how to say what he suspected. “However, I think that there are some problems with the child.”

Jane nearly jumped from the bed. Her exhaustion had faded away at the doctor’s words. “What is wrong with my son, Doctor Linacre? What is wrong?”

Lady Mary bent down to Jane. “Your Majesty, please calm down. You have just given birth to the prince. You cannot overexcite yourself.”

After an obscure pause, King Henry finally spoke. “Doctor Linacre, please tell me the truth.” His face betrayed his fear and anxiety.

“I suspect that the child is dumb and, perhaps, deaf,” the physician answered. “I am very sorry, Your Majesty. We need more time to observe the child in order to make proper conclusions. Probably, something will change for the better over time.”

King Henry couldn’t tolerate it any longer. “For the better? What could change for the better if the child is deaf and dumb?” he roared in despair. “He won’t be named Edward! He can be called any other name, but not Edward!” His voice took a higher octave. “Edward is a name for the Prince of Wales and for a healthy child!” His son in his hands stirred a peg, but no cry followed. Henry handed the child to Lady Mary. “Is it a curse? What the hell is going on?” he screamed and stormed out of the room, loudly slamming the door behind him.

Queen Jane began to cry. She was sobbing uncontrollably for quite a long time. She had failed Henry. Her son was a defective child who would never become the Prince of Wales and the King of England. She had failed her family. She was no better than the harlot, Anne Boleyn, who at least was capable of bearing a healthy daughter for the king. Jane was dismayed and defeated in all possible and impossible aspects. As she couldn’t stop crying, Doctor Linacre finally gave her a calming draught.

Shocked and perplexed, Lady Mary Tudor took the child away from the queen’s chambers, leaving Queen Jane alone with her ladies-in-waiting, including Jane’s sister Lady Elizabeth Seymour Cromwell and the notorious Lady Jane Boleyn.

Edward Seymour was shocked and disappointed. Moreover, he was frightened because now the Seymours would be in danger if the king wanted to get rid of Jane. Edward didn’t wish to lose his power and status which he had been granted thanks to his for relationship with the Queen of England. What should the Seymours do now? They could only hope that Doctor Linacre had made a mistake in his diagnosis, but it was unlikely. The only hope was that the king would give Jane another chance to conceive a child.

The greatest danger was that the harlot’s son had been placed in Lady Mary Stafford’s household. Edward Seymour thought that King Henry might turn to the harlot’s son in an attempt for consolation. Edward hoped that the king would continue thinking that the harlot’s son had been a bastard of his deceased mistress.

Several weeks passed since the birth of Henry’s new son. Jane never left her chambers, waiting for her churching in accordance with the custom; Henry never visited her. She often cried herself to sleep, not understanding why God had turned His back on her.

Edward Seymour stormed into the queen’s suite. He dismissed the queen’s ladies-in-waiting by a wave of his hand. He even asked Elizabeth Seymour and Lady Cromwell to leave, much to Jane’s surprise and Elizabeth’s disappointment. The expression on Edward’s face was so austere and so unpleasant that the ladies curtsied and hurried to the door, leaving Queen Jane and her brother alone.

Jane opened her eyes and stared at him. “Brother,” she murmured under her breath. She was still physically tired after the difficult childbirth two days ago.

“Your Majesty,” Edward greeted her in a ceremonious tone and bowed to her.

“Brother, when will Thomas return from Paris? Did he write to you?”

Edward Seymour didn’t want to talk about it. He predicted that Thomas Seymour’s mission to Paris would be an utter failure, which would further infuriate King Henry. “Currently, Thomas is in Paris, waiting for a private audience with Queen Marguerite of Navarre. There is a delay there, and we don’t know how much time he will have to spend in France.” He came closer to Jane’s bed, leaning over her and gently stroking her blonde hair. He pitied Jane, but was more worried about the consequences of Jane’s failure to the Seymours. “Jane, I came to talk to you, not about Thomas. You must be strong now. Our only chance is that you will get pregnant as soon as possible.” His tone turned informal.

Jane gasped at those straightforward, cruel words. Her brother had treated her only as an instrument by which he received personal wealth and power at the court. He wasn’t thinking about her poor son or about her unhappiness. “Edward, my son is very sick,” she babbled.

Edward squeezed her hand to attract her attention. “Darling sister, it is better for you to remember that you failed the king. I fear that the king will no longer favor us. I fear the worst,” he complained.

Jane didn’t want to listen to him. “My poor son is deaf and dumb,” she lisped thoughtlessly.

Edward gripped her wrists and held them tightly together. Feeling the pain from his hard grasp, Jane flinched, her eyes wide-open. “Listen to me, sister. You will stop crying and will act as though nothing had happened. Your will smile and try to please the king. You will be a tolerant and obedient wife. You will try to charm and seduce the king as soon as you are churched and permitted to have marital relations. You will sleep with the king until he gets you with child again,” he said quickly, his teeth clenched, his face hardened.

Jane stiffened under his hard gaze. She couldn’t believe that the violent man in front of her was her brother. “Edward, please leave me alone,” she implored.

“Don’t forget that King Henry has already had a son with the harlot. And as far as I know the boy is healthy and has a strong resemblance to the king,” Edward hissed.

“That boy is a bastard. He isn’t the king’s son,” Jane objected.

Edward released her wrists. “The boy is the king’s son,” he stated.

Jane’s eyes grew wide. “But Anne Boleyn was the harlot! She slept with those executed men, including her own brother. This child is a bastard!”

Edward laughed at his naive sister. “My dear sister, Your Majesty, you are so naive,” he scoffed. “At the court only Lady Mary, you, and the king himself think that the harlot was guilty. Lady Mary hates the harlot for taking away her father from Queen Catherine. The king persuaded himself that the harlot betrayed him, and he must think so in order not to lose his mind from guilt. You, my naïve Jane, think that the harlot was guilty because you understand nothing of the court life.”

It was true. Jane had a simple, unsophisticated mind. She understood nothing of the court intrigues. She accepted the role her family had forced on her. She was told what she had to do and how to attract King Henry’s attention when the king first promised to serve her several years ago. At first, Jane did as her family wished her to act. Later she fell in love with Henry and truly wanted to make him happy and to give him a son. And, of course, she was seduced by the idea of being the Queen of England, especially given the fact that she hated the harlot, an evil woman who was worse than any plague. Jane saw her mission as the salvation of England from the claws of the witch Anne Boleyn. And finally she had failed. Jane was stunned. Her heart constricted. She didn’t know what to think. “Anne Boleyn was innocent?” she forced herself to ask.

Edward nodded. “Yes.”

Jane gasped in horror. “Oh, my Lord! Oh, my Lord!” If Anne Boleyn was innocent, it meant that the king had killed the innocent mother of his son and his daughter just to marry Jane. She had built her shaky happiness on the bones and blood of her female rival, and finally that happiness had evolved into great trouble when her son was born deaf and dumb. Was it a punishment from Heaven?

“Calm down, sister, and pray that the king continues believing that the harlot was guilty.”

“Did you plan the harlot’s downfall?”

“No, I didn’t participate. The harlot had a powerful enemy in Cromwell and that was enough for her. The king wanted to get rid of her to marry you.”

Jane shook her head in disbelief. “She stood trial and was found guilty.” She still tried to deny Anne’s innocence.

Edward laughed again. “The harlot was a lost cause, and the trial found her guilty. They did what the king wanted.” He leaned down again and grasped his sister’s wrists. “Jane, you will live as though nothing has happened. You will be a good wife. And you will give a son to the king soon,” he hissed in a low voice. “Do you understand me?”

Jane trembled from a mixture of horror, fear, and fatigue. “Yes, brother,” she said. What else could she say? She asked herself whether she would tell the king that Anne Boleyn had been innocent before Anne’s execution. Jane had to admit to herself that she wouldn’t do that. She wanted to be the queen. She loved the King of England. She would have kept silent had she known earlier and would keep silent now. Next time God would give her a healthy son, she tried to reassure herself. It was the only way she could continue existing in the world of dark royal shadows.