Honor in the Dust (26 page)

The funeral was performed at once. It was a simple family affair. No one wanted to be exposed to the sweating sickness. Stuart went through it almost as if he were asleep, but actually he was stunned. He was glad when the ceremony was over and stole away to walk with Heather. She had been one of the few who had attended the services for his grandmother, and she took his arm with sadness still on her face. “Stuart. I'm so sorry for your loss. How are your father and your mother faring?”

“We're all stunned, Heather. Somehow we thought Grandmother would always be with us.”

“I've heard many speak of how wonderful she was. I wish I had known her. She sounds like a fine lady.”

“Thank you for coming. I didn't expect it.”

“I had to come. You're important to me.”

He gave her a small smile. Would anyone at court do the same for him? He couldn't imagine it. They walked and talked for a while, as comfortable together as if they saw each other every week. She said, “I have a message for you from Mr. Tyndale.”

“For me? What did he say?”

Heather brought him to a stop and stared up into his eyes. “He said to tell you, Stuart, that God has a plan for you.”

“God has a plan for me, eh? I must say, I'm not convinced.”

“He said he knows God will use you. He's going into hiding, you know.”

“Hiding!”

“Yes, his work has made him the target of many a hunter.”

“That's terrible!”

“Yes, but nothing Master Tyndale seems to truly fear. Stuart, he thinks that dangerous times are coming for all of
God's people and that you're going to have to make a choice one day.”

“I can't believe that the king would ever be cruel.”

Heather did not answer; she knew that Stuart still had confidence in the king. She was watching him carefully. He took her hand. “You've been so kind to me always, Heather. I appreciate that more than you know.”

“I could never be anything but kind to you, Stuart.”

A little unnerved by the intensity of her tone, Stuart gave a half-laugh and hugged her.

He had a sudden knowledge that there was something in him that desired her, and he was shocked and appalled at his desire. He stepped back quickly and saw her smile.

“What's the matter, Stuart? You've hugged a woman before, haven't you?”

“I—I'm sorry. I'm not myself.” He shook his head. What did her peculiar smile mean?

“You must return soon,” she said.

“I shall. Thank you again for coming.”

He could not get away quickly enough. He rode away at a full gallop.

Catherine was not surprised when Henry arrived. There was no secret of his intentions of late. But she would not make it easy for him.

He marched into her bedroom and after making a few false starts said, “My dear, I think you can guess what I'm going to say.”

“Not at all, sir.”

“I have been studying the Scripture, and it becomes more evident to me and to the priesthood of the church that we have not had a marriage. Therefore we are going to end something that never really existed.”

“I do not understand you.”

“You must be aware that it is stated in the book of Leviticus chapter 20, verse 21, ‘If a man shall take his brother's wife, it is an impurity. He hath covered his brother's nakedness: they shall be childless.' Obviously, when I married my brother Arthur's widow, I committed a terrible sin. You, perhaps, were not aware of it, and neither was I. But there it is.”

“I do not believe this is the truth,” Catherine said. When Henry just stared at her, she began to weep.

“We have never been married, Catherine. We are not married
now, and we never shall be.” He turned on his heel and walked away, leaving Catherine to give in to her grief fully.

It was Anne Boleyn whom he wanted, Anne who he believed would bear him the coveted male heir.

Catherine watched when Henry left the castle and strode away, walking as if free of a burden. Herself. Mary. She pounded the stone wall as she watched him stride, almost floating. On the far side were three ladies-in-waiting. One was Anne Boleyn.

The woman turned to greet the king. He drew her away and tucked her hand in the crook of his arm. He leaned his head down to hers, talking. Anne stopped, then looked over his shoulder at the queen's apartments. Catherine lifted her chin and squared her shoulders, boldly meeting the temptress's gaze.

But Anne just gave a small smile, then turned and led King Henry away.

The king stared at Wolsey and said bluntly, “Wolsey, I have never been married to Catherine. I've explained this to you. God has chastised me and punished me by not giving me a son. And you're going to help me rectify that.”

Wolsey saw what was coming and dreaded it. “But, sire, there's no way—”

“Say no more, Wolsey! You will go to the pope and you will explain to him that I have no wife and never had a wife. All he has to do is pronounce that my previous connection to Catherine was null and void and not of God. The Scripture plainly says so.” The king did not need to observe formalities in private.

“Please, Your Majesty, do not do this!”

Henry's voice was tinged with the threat of something dark and deadly. “This is your task. The one thing I ask of you. Do not fail me, sir.” He turned and walked out.

Wolsey began to tremble. He knew that if he failed in this,
he was in danger of dismissal—if not death. But however he viewed it, he had no hope of success.

The king loved to write letters, and he sent a series of love letters to Anne Boleyn. One of the first said:

My mistress and friend,

I and my heart commit themselves into your hands beseeching you to hold us recommended to your good favor, and that your affections to us may not be by absence diminished.

Henry had discovered that he could not live without Anne Boleyn. It was that simple. He sought to keep himself constantly before her and in her thoughts when he was not present. He sent her his picture, bracelets, fine jewelry. In every way he could, he tried to draw the dark beauty.

Not long after this letter the king received a gift in reply. It was a piece of jewelry, a beautiful diamond, and a miniature ship with a tiny passenger. The passenger was a solitary damsel. Henry was thrilled and completely charmed by the gift. It told him that Anne felt affection for him. As soon as he received it, he began to write more urgent love letters stating plainly that he could dedicate his body to Anne and desired her as his own.

Yet Anne did not respond, which surprised Henry a great deal, for women always did. Anne confessed at the start that she had never in her heart wanted to love the king. Her letters sent him into despair. He had loved her for more than a year now and wanted never to stop.

And so the king's “great matter,” which was what the divorce with Catherine came to be called, became a matter of international news, and the characters in the drama, Henry, Catherine, and Anne Boleyn, were watched constantly to see how the drama would end.

Stuart, of course, was aware of the king's insistence on a divorce. One afternoon he visited Mary; as usual, Catherine was there. He played with the girl for some time, and Catherine sat to one side. From time to time she would smile, but there was a cloud over her, and when Mary went off to gather some flowers, she said in a wan voice, “It was kind of you to come by, Master Winslow.”

“It's always a pleasure, Your Majesty.”

Catherine seemed to be debating whether to speak her mind. Finally she did. “I suppose you know that the king is determined to divorce me.”

“Well, Your Majesty, I have heard talk.”

“Of course you have. Everyone in the kingdom has heard it! It's foolishness! We are man and wife, and I have borne him many children. Unfortunately God saw fit to take them from us except for Mary. He says we were never married.” And then for the first time she broke down and began to cry.

Stuart watched her helplessly. If she had been anyone except the queen, he might have gone to her, taken her hand, and shown his concern. But she was the queen.

He bowed his head and waited until the fit of crying was passed. Then he heard her say, “Thank you for bearing with a weeping woman.”

“I'm so sorry, Your Majesty. I'm certain that it will turn out better than you fear.”

“No, it will not. Thank you for coming by.” She rose and walked away, her head bowed and her shoulders stooped. For the first time Stuart thought of King Henry with bitterness.
He's a beast! To treat a woman like that is inhuman!

In the afternoon of that same day, Peter Morton, a young buck who led a group of equally wild young men of the court, stopped
by to visit Stuart at the mews. They talked about the birds for a while, and Morton surprised him with his knowledge about them. He was a smallish young man with sharp features and compelling gray eyes.

“A group of us are going out tonight to have an adventure. We'd like to have you come along, Stuart.”

Stuart was aware that Morton's set often went out to seek adventures. He had never been invited, and he had been envious, for they told high tales of their deeds. They did such noble things—at least, so they claimed.