Secrets of the Tudor Court Boxed Set (61 page)

“I’ve heard that they wrote letters to Cardinal Pole without the king’s permission.” Nan fought a yawn. “Montagu is the cardinal’s eldest brother. Neville is Lady Montagu’s brother. Exeter is also related to the Poles and to the king.” His mother, like King Henry’s, had been one of King Edward IV’s daughters.

“At the time of my last visit to England, Sir Geoffrey Pole was arrested for carrying on a similar correspondence and failing to make the king privy to the contents of his letters. It seems such a small thing.” Pacing, Nan’s mother began to twist one of the many rings that adorned her hands.

Nan kept her head down and studied her fingernails. One of them was broken. “The king is wary of plots against the realm, and Cardinal Pole did vow to usurp the throne and return Catholicism to England. That being so, anyone who writes to him is suspected of treason.”

“Such foolishness!” her mother said. With a glower for Nan, Lady Lisle launched into a rant on the difficulty of corresponding with friends when one had to think how every word might be misinterpreted.

Nan barely listened. Her thoughts had drifted to her son, as they often did. She had visited her baby again, this time taking him the gift of a rattle containing a toadstone. It was supposed to be a powerful charm, particularly effective in protecting infants from harm. She hoped to visit Cheapside again, but it was not that easy to escape Cousin Mary’s house without an escort.

“Assassins,” Lady Lisle said.

The word brought Nan back to the present with a start. “What did you say?”

“It is well known in Calais. King Henry gave orders to assassinate Cardinal Pole. I’ve been told it was Peter Mewtas, one of the king’s gentlemen of the privy chamber, who was designated to shoot the cardinal with a handgun. By God’s grace, he never had the opportunity.”

“A gun? What a very haphazard way to kill someone!” Nan had lived long enough in a garrison town to know that small guns were notorious for misfiring. They were difficult to aim, as well. “When did this attempt take place?”

“In April of last year. Officially, Mewtas was in France to persuade King Francis that he should evict Cardinal Pole from the country. The assassination plan was secret.”

“Not for long.”

Her mother shrugged. “It is difficult to keep anything quiet if you tell more than one person. The point is, King Henry wants Cardinal Pole removed because His Grace considers the cardinal a threat to the throne. Now, I fear, he believes that anyone with Plantagenet blood in his veins endangers the Tudor dynasty.”

Nan supposed her mother’s deduction made sense. If King Henry was to be replaced along with the new religion, then a new king would
have to be found. Cardinal Pole and his brothers had the best claim and, after them, the Marquis of Exeter. “Do you think the king will execute them?” That was the time-honored method of ridding the kingdom of rivals to the throne.

“I fear so. Their families are also in custody. Montagu’s wife and son, as well as the Marchioness of Exeter and her boy. Even the old Countess of Salisbury, Cardinal Pole’s mother, has been questioned. Where will it end, Nan? What if your stepfather is accused of treason?”

“Has he been in contact with Cardinal Pole?” Nan asked. That was the root of her mother’s concern—Arthur Plantagenet, Lord Lisle.

“Certainly not!”

“Then you have nothing to worry about.”

“Arthur’s father was King Edward IV.”

“Yes, but he is the king’s
illegitimate
son.”

Nan heard the faint clack of rosary beads as her mother fingered them. “Bastards have taken the throne of England before. And bastard lines have been legitimized.”

Nan left the window seat to cross the room to wrap her arms around the older woman. “You worry too much, Mother. My stepfather is not the sort to plot rebellion. Lord Lisle is a quiet, plodding sort of man, content with his lot.” Nan’s mother was the one with ambition. “No one could possibly believe him capable of conspiring to overthrow the king.”

“You always were a blunt-spoken child,” Lady Lisle complained, but she seemed to take comfort in Nan’s assurances.

“There is no reason for you to be concerned about him, Mother.”

“I suppose not, but what if Lord Cromwell is behind the arrests of so many of the king’s kin? I came to England determined to oppose him in the matter of Painswick Manor.”

“If you truly fear Cromwell’s influence, then let him have Painswick!”

Lady Lisle went rigid with anger and Nan hastily stepped back. “I may be persuaded to sell it to him in the end, but not for the paltry price he’s offering. And I am prepared to stay in England as long as is necessary to obtain the 400 pounds Arthur was promised as an annuity.”

“How do you hope to accomplish that? The king has already told you that you must deal with Lord Cromwell.”

“I need another opportunity to speak with the king alone, when he is in a receptive mood.” She eyed Nan speculatively. “He seems quite taken with you.”

“I may not have been at court long, Mother, but it was time enough to learn that the king does not like to be pressured. He is known for his volatile temper. Push too hard and you will incur the very fate you fear most.”

It clearly galled Lady Lisle to accept advice from her daughter, but she was, above all else, a sensible woman. Charges of treason were nothing to trifle with. She swallowed her protests.

“The promise of a post as a maid of honor to the next queen will put you in place to court royal favor for many years to come,” she said after a few moments of silence. “You have done well so far,” she added grudgingly. “The king admires you. I can see that.”

Impatient with her mother’s histrionics, Nan spoke before she thought: “He already has a mistress.”

“Is that what he wants of you?” Shock reverberated in the words.

“So I must suppose.”

“I did not labor to send you to court to turn whore. It is a sin to bed any man but your husband. Both the old religion and the new agree on that point.”

It was good to know how her mother felt on the subject, Nan thought. She chose her next words with care. “The king admires wit as well as beauty. I can do nothing until he marries and I am once more part of a queen’s household. But then, I am certain, I will be able to find honorable ways to persuade him to grant me favors.”

“You have a responsibility, Nan. You must not only advance yourself, but your brothers and sisters as well.”

This was the start of another lecture, one Nan already knew by heart. She nodded from time to time to convince her mother she was listening, but her thoughts quickly returned to that afternoon, when she’d stood
beside the king in the window alcove. Had he really been inviting her to become his mistress?

How odd, she thought, that her mother believed bribes of wine or quails or jewelry were acceptable, but that offering one’s self in return for favors was a sin. Just now, Nan found the idea of becoming King Henry’s mistress tempting. Even more tempting was the possibility that, if she could please His Grace sufficiently, she might not have to settle for that role. Was it possible she might be able to follow in the footsteps of Anne Boleyn and Jane Seymour … without the fatal consequences?

Nan returned to Sussex House the next day, determined to further her future. She’d have liked to begin at once, but was constrained by her mother’s continued presence in England. She resolved to be patient, to wait until her mother returned to Calais before she began her campaign to seduce the king.

W
HEN
L
ADY
L
ISLE
was still in Lothbury at the end of November, Nan worried that her mother would never leave. Troubling in another way was the reason her mother stayed on. She was unable to obtain an interview with Lord Cromwell and settle the matters of Painswick Manor and Lord Lisle’s annuity because Cromwell was busy gathering evidence against the king’s cousins.

On the second of December, Lord Montagu was tried for treason. On the third, it was Exeter’s turn. On the fourth, trials were held for Sir Edward Neville and Sir Geoffrey Pole. All were found guilty and all but Sir Geoffrey sentenced to death. Nan, and everyone else who heard of it, assumed he’d escaped that fate because he’d given evidence against his family and friends.

Lord Cromwell finally found time to see Lady Lisle on the seventh of December. He offered her an unappealing bargain. He would guarantee an annuity of £200—half what Lord Lisle had been promised—in return for which she would agree to sell him Painswick for a fraction of its worth. Persuaded by the fact that Montagu, Exeter, and Neville were about to be executed, Lady Lisle conceded defeat and agreed. She did not
want to make an enemy of Lord Cromwell. At last, in mid-December, she left London, freeing Nan to pursue her own inclinations.

C
HRISTMAS AT
G
REENWICH
Palace was everything Nan had hoped for. There were masques and games and, every evening, dancing. The palace itself was all that was wonderful, with its gardens and tiltyard and its hunting park. Even in December, its beauty was unsurpassed, and Nan saw it through a golden haze.

The king was most attentive, riding at her side during one of the hunts and seeking her out as a dance partner as often as he did Margaret Skipwith. But Margaret Skipwith was present, and apparently in as much favor as ever.

Nan studied the king’s mistress when she thought no one was watching. Her rival was small, plump, and amiable. She flirted with the king, admired the things he admired, and spoke of nothing but inconsequential matters. Nan took heart when she heard the rumor that Margaret was to have young Lord Talboys as her husband. Her reward, Nan assumed, and a sign that the king had grown tired of her.

On the day before Twelfth Night, Cousin Mary took it upon herself to interfere in Nan’s plans. She dismissed Kate and Isabel and Jane so that she could speak with Nan in private. As soon as they were alone in Mary’s inner chamber, she rounded on Nan. “You will ruin yourself for a good marriage!”

“Hardly.”

Nan went to the sideboard and selected two wineglasses with gilt decoration. She filled both from a covered crystal flagon and offered one to her cousin. “Say what is on your mind, cousin.”

“A virtuous woman lies only with her husband, and then only after marriage vows have been exchanged. You have nothing to gain by attracting the king’s interest but the loss of your most precious possession.”

Nan took a steadying sip of the wine—a fine Rhenish—to give herself time to think. Mary clearly meant what she said. She’d be no help at all in winning the king’s heart. “I have been trying to pique His Grace’s
interest,” she admitted, “but not for the reason you think.” Nan lowered her voice, even though they seemed to be alone. They were, after all, at court. “As long as King Henry is not yet married to some foreign princess, it follows that any true-born English gentlewoman has a chance of marrying him. Would you deny me my opportunity?”

“The king must take a foreign princess to wife. He’ll not wed you, Nan, only make you his mistress and endanger your immortal soul. Just because he is the king, you cannot allow yourself to break God’s laws.”

Mary put aside her wine and went to her looking glass to adjust the crossed bands of amber-colored velvet arranged at the front of her French hood. They were supposed to make her look as if she had light-colored hair, far more fashionable than her own black locks.

“I suppose you are right,” Nan said. “I was flattered by His Grace’s attention and did not think matters through.”

To placate her cousin, she pretended to abandon her attempts to win the king’s affection. In truth, she had no intention of doing so.

The next day, Nan paid a visit her old friend Anne Parr. She was Anne Herbert now and shared her husband’s lodgings at court. Nan’s heart sank when she saw how small and cramped the space was. Will Herbert had but one room. The only place to sleep was a single flock bed with a bolster and coverlet.

Perched atop the ship’s chest used to store clothing, drinking an inferior Gascon wine from a beaker of plain glass, Nan hastily made further adjustments to her plans. If she could not move in with Anne and Will, she must find somewhere else to stay, a place where her every move would not be scrutinized.

“I am charged to advance my stepfather’s cause at court,” she confided to Anne, “and I hope to secure my own future as well. To succeed in both, I need access to the king.
Private
access.”

Anne blinked her wide-spaced gray eyes once in surprise, but Nan read neither shock nor disapproval in her expression.

“You must remember how the king sought me out, even before Queen Jane died.”

“I do.” Anne sipped her wine. “So, you want to replace Mistress Skipwith, do you?”

“Perhaps.”

“Be very sure, Nan. His Grace is not easy to please and there will be a new queen soon. What if she takes his fancy? She might persuade him to banish
all
his former mistresses from court.”

“I need your help, Anne. I must find someplace to live where the king can visit me without causing comment.”

“Mary will be wroth with you if you leave Sussex House.”

Nan grimaced. “She has been good to me and I hate to disappoint her, but she has not been able to arrange the sort of marriage I want for myself, and she has made it clear that she does not approve of my … flirtation with the king.”

Anne looked thoughtful. “I suppose you could go to my sister Kathryn.”

“Lady Latimer? But she hardly ever comes to court except to visit you. I need someone with lodgings at court. Or nearby. Or someone whose husband is close enough to the king that His Grace might pay frequent visits to his house.”

“What about Jane Mewtas? Her husband is high in King Henry’s favor.”

And a would-be assassin!
Nan quickly suppressed the thought. If Peter Mewtas had earned the king’s trust by his willingness to shoot Cardinal Pole, so be it. “An excellent idea,” she said aloud.

“I will see what I can do,” Anne promised, “but you must be patient. After all, Margaret Skipwith is still at court, and the king, in his own way, is monogamous.”