Authors: Laura Andersen
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Sagas, #Romance, #General
The Boleyn Deceit (46 page)
And so two words wind through my dreams and occasionally into my waking hours:
What if?
What if I am called upon to rule England?
I do not think it arrogance to believe that I am as qualified as William. Have we not had the same education, shared the same tutors and lessons? And we all know I am by nature more suited to the intellectual demands of the position. Where does my brother outshine me?
The answer to that is stark: on the battlefield. For though I ride and hunt as well as any man, I do not wield weapons and I may not ride to war. The Great Seal of England depicts the ruler in two states: dispensing justice on one side, on the other mounted on horseback with sword unsheathed to defend the kingdom. Though an extraordinary woman may find her way to fulfill the first, how is she to perform the second? A role, by the way, that William has shown himself so perfectly fitted for on the fields of France this summer.
But his prowess in battle does not mean my brother is a perfect ruler. I feel quite certain now that I shall never send this letter, Minuette, for I am treading on dangerous ground. But I must give voice, even if only once, to my overriding concern about William’s choice of bride.
Dare I write what I will not say to his face? William is
thinking of himself alone when he should be thinking of his kingdom.
Were I queen, I cannot envision a circumstance in which I would sacrifice my people’s good for my own happiness, as William is so lightly doing. I love you, Minuette, as I have never loved another friend, but you are not the queen England needs. If my brother persists in his romantic obsession, I fear he will split the kingdom in two, and the rifts his birth was meant to heal will never be mended.
With that, I close this rebellious letter and will consign it to the fire. If only I could as easily wipe away my doubts and fears. For you, as well as for William, for you are nearly my sister, and I do not want you hurt as I believe you will be one way or another. And in the coming weeks I will watch my words and my expressions. It is not my place to undermine the king’s will. And perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps you are precisely what William needs.
But I fear you are not. And I fear England will pay the price.
Your loving sister in all but blood,
Elizabeth
UESTIONS AND
T
OPICS FOR
D
ISCUSSION
1. In the opening chapter of the novel, Minuette writes: “William has commanded [John Dee] to give a private reading of our stars. Only the four of us—for it would not do to let our secrets, past or future, slip into wider circulation.” Yet, she keeps a journal that details many of their secrets. Do you think it is dangerous for her to do so? Would you, in her place?
2. When they meet with John Dee, Minuette reflects, “We all have motives that are less than pure.” Do you agree? Do you think that the nature of the court made it impossible to be anything but self-serving at heart?
3. At one point Dominic says to Minuette, “Give me the word, and I’ll go straight to William myself and tell him the truth.” To which Minuette responds, “We can’t just throw this in his face. He’s not ready to hear it.” Why do you think Minuette is so set against being honest with William? Is it solely because she wishes to spare his feelings? Was there ever a moment when Minuette or Dominic could have (or should have) told William about their relationship?
4. Ironically,
though she is against confessing to William, it is Minuette who proposes the
di praesenti
marriage, arguing that “the court live[s] by its own rules.” Do you think she is being rational, or hopelessly naïve? What’s your opinion on how they handled the situation, and how do you predict the news of their secret marriage will be met by William? By Elizabeth?
5. It is interesting that Dominic and Minuette never turn to Elizabeth for help or advice on their situation, especially given her ability to be incredibly rational and less volatile than her brother. Why do you think this is?
6. Elizabeth excuses herself for “keeping her own counsel,” because she realizes that William too has “confidences kept,” even from her. Each of the “holy quartet” has their reasons for keeping secrets, some trivial, some life-altering—do you think these secrets will ultimately rip them apart? Or are secrets sometimes necessary in order to keep people together?
7. Robert Dudley is an interesting character because, despite how involved he is in court life, he also does his best to keep his head down and his nose clean, unlike his father. Do you think this is wise? What do you make of his relationship with Elizabeth? With William?
8. The title of the book is
The Boleyn Deceit
. To whom or what do you think the title applies? Who are the deceivers? Who are the deceived?
9. Do you think that a true, balanced friendship can ever really exist between two people who are on vastly different
playing fields of power, as William and Dominic are? Why or why not?
10. If given a choice, would you rather be the one in power (William), or serving the one in power? Why?
11. Do you see any parallels between William and Elizabeth’s relationship and that of Anne and George Boleyn?
12. How do the feelings between Dominic, Minuette, William, and Elizabeth shift over the course of the book? Compare their standing at the end of
The Boleyn Deceit
to their relationship as it was in
The Boleyn King
. Of the quartet, who do you sympathize with most?
13. During a conversation about political strategy, Will’s uncle opposes him, to which William replies, “Do tell, Lord Rochford: if being king isn’t about me, then whom is it about?” Do you think this is the right attitude to have? Does your opinion of William change over the course of the book?
14. There have been many books written about the Tudors, not to mention the popularity of films and television shows about this time. What do you think is so fascinating about this particular era, and this particular family (for you personally, and in more general cultural terms)?
If you were enchanted by
The Boleyn Deceit
,
you won’t want to miss
THE BOLEYN RECKONING
Laura Andersen’s dazzling conclusion to the tale of
the Tudor king that never was.
July 1536“My lady.”
Mary refused to acknowledge the greeting, for Archbishop Cranmer’s avoidance of her true title was an insult to her birth and position.
“My lady Mary,” the impertinent man pressed, “I bring with me a letter from the king, your father.”
That she could not refuse to acknowledge. Wordlessly, she extended her hand and the heretic archbishop handed over the letter. They were alone in a small antechamber at Hatfield House, where Mary fulfilled her duty as lady-in-waiting to her tiny half sister. If Elizabeth
were
her half-sister; Mary would have liked to believe that the child was not Henry’s at all. But in her heart she knew they were sisters. They shared some of the same colouring, and even at not yet three years old, the precocious Elizabeth had a fearsome will that shouted her royal parentage.
Mary’s chest constricted at her father’s familiar and beloved handwriting. But it was the message itself that closed off her throat and sent wings of panic fluttering through her body.
The queen is safely delivered of a son. England at last has a Prince of Wales as God intended.
How could God have intended this? Mary wondered. How could
he have allowed her own mother—Henry’s true and loyal wife—to die barren and alone while the Boleyn whore bewitched the king? How could such a woman be granted a living son when Catherine of Aragon had been denied? Mary felt for the rosary at her waist and then remembered that she was forbidden to wear it at Hatfield.
“What do you want of me?” she demanded of Cranmer. “Congratulations? I am always glad for my father’s happiness, but I cannot congratulate him on a mistaken pride in a son who is not legitimate. How can he be Prince of Wales, when my father has never truly been married to that woman?”
“My lady,” and despite herself, Mary recognized the kindness beneath the archbishop’s inflexibility, “your honour for your mother’s memory does you great credit. But your father wishes nothing more than to be reconciled with you. Why separate yourself from the comfort of the king’s love and care when you need not? What he asks is so little.”
“I know what he asks—that I proclaim my mother’s marriage a lie, her virtue a hoax, her faith an inconvenience. The king asks me to brand myself a bastard for the sake of that woman’s children.”
“The king asks you to accept the inevitable. My lady, this is a fight you cannot win. Ask yourself—does God wish you to go on in defiance against your father’s wishes? To live out your life in rebellion and servitude? Whatever the state of your parents’ marriage, you were conceived in good faith and were born for better things.”
Mary thought of how much she hated Hatfield, being in a house of Protestants who despised not only her and her mother but the Church as well. With Cranmer being so reasonable and soft-spoken, Mary asked, “What would I receive in return?”
“In return for your signature, your father will grant you the
manor of Beaulieu for life. There, you will be permitted to retain a single confessor and attendants of your own choosing.”
A confessor … Mary closed her eyes and shivered. Henry knew his women—he knew how much she longed for a household of her own again, where she could wear her rosary and pray without the sneers of heretics and be counseled by a true priest. But to sign away her rights … the rights her mother had died upholding …
“Your father is also prepared to consider the wisdom of a proper marriage, providing your behavior is acceptable.”
And that was the final blow to her resistance. Though her intellect knew that “consider” was not the same thing as “arranging” or “allowing,” it was considerably better than her current state. She was twenty years old and had been betrothed often in her childhood. But there was no chance she would ever be allowed to marry while she continued in defiance of the king’s wishes. With each year, she would grow older. And even more than marriage, Mary wanted children.
Mother
, she offered up silently,
what should I do?
The words were so immediate and clear to her mind that Mary knew at once it was her answer.
Do what you must for now—and wait for your moment. God means you to turn England back to Him.
Mary opened her eyes, her pride screaming but her conscience unwavering. “I will sign.”
And then I will wait,
she vowed silently.
And when my moment comes—I will act.
18 March 1556
Richmond Palace
Today the Duke of Northumberland stands trial at Westminster Hall. Dominic traveled to London yesterday to take part, though I know he is conflicted. Robert Dudley has told him that someone other than his father is behind all the twists of treachery these last two years, but Robert will say no more to Dominic. He has asked, rather, to see Elizabeth. Dominic asked me to help persuade her, but I did not try very hard. Why should she go? Whether there is one traitor or twenty in this, it was Northumberland himself who held Elizabeth and me prisoner. And for that alone he must answer.
Besides, all Elizabeth can think of just now is William. It has been three months since the nightmare of his smallpox and the effects … linger.
Perhaps the resolution of Northumberland’s fate will release us all from this sense that we are snared in the moment before action. The tension of waiting is almost more than I can bear.
In the absence of an Earl Marshal of England (a post which William had not filled since the death of the old Duke of Norfolk
more than a year ago), the trial of John Dudley, Duke of Northumberland, was presided over by George Boleyn, Duke of Rochford and Lord Chancellor of England.
Dominic took his place with the other peers who would sit in judgment of Northumberland today, but all his attention was given to Rochford himself. Three months ago the imprisoned Robert Dudley had made an enigmatic accusation aimed at the Lord Chancellor but had thus far refused to provide any details. Robert seemed to believe that even if his father were convicted today, William would be merciful as to the sentence and so there would be time to consider the matter.
