The Boleyn Reckoning (38 page)
Read The Boleyn Reckoning Online
Authors: Laura Andersen
Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Alternative History, #Romance, #General
31 August 1557
Beauchamp Tower
When I was summoned today, I went as usual, expecting to face all and sundry and defend myself against sheer imagination
.
It was only Will
.
He looks different—harder, more remote. He did not say much. I congratulated him on his queen, which was perhaps not the wisest choice. But when face-to-face with him, my temper flared. I know
he holds my life in his hands. More important, he holds Dominic’s. But my tongue was quicker than my brain, and I wanted to provoke him. If I did, he hid it well. His face has become blank—only those blue eyes are alive. Those devouring eyes that studied the unmistakable swell of my body with an intensity that scorched me to my bones. As though he were already laying claim to the child I carry
.
He made me an offer, of course. I’ve been expecting it for months, but still I was speechless when he actually said it aloud. It’s quite simple—I come to his bed, willingly and for as long as he wishes it, and Dominic lives. He threw in some additional inducements, such as my title and promises of titles and land for any children we might have (“including this one,” he said, with a pointed look at my growing figure), but he knows the only thing that matters is Dominic’s life
.
I said no. That was all—just the one word. He retreated after that
.
He will be back
.
1 October 1557
Beauchamp Tower
He has been back, twice a week for the last month. Nine times he has asked me now, and nine times I have said no
.
Today, my willful tongue being what it is, I finally asked him why bother with the pretense of consent? I am in his custody and at his mercy. He had me securely confined at Beaulieu—why not leave me there and force the issue after the child is born?
His face darkened and he raised his hand as if to strike me as he did once before. But he merely closed his hand into a fist and slammed it into the door on his way out of the room
.
And then I knew. He wants what Dominic had, and that does not include taking me by force. Almost I wish I did not know that, for I am still capable of hurting for Will. And this is a hurt that can never be mended
.
5 October 1557
Beauchamp Tower
I have not seen the king since he stormed away from me. But it seems I have provoked him in a manner I did not intend
.
Dominic stands trial tomorrow
.
THE TRIAL OF DOMINIC COURTENAY, DUKE OF EXETER WESTMINSTER HALL
6 OCTOBER 1557
In the eleventh year of the reign of King Henry IX: for rebelliously conspiring against and endeavoring the subversion of the government by confederacy with various Popish traitors and accomplices
.
Then the Lord High Constable of the Tower, the Lieutenant of the Tower, and the Gentleman Porter, who carried the ax before the prisoner came first in, and the prisoner followed and made his appearance at the bar
.
Then were summoned the peers of Dominic, Duke of Exeter, to sit in judgment, having due regard to their own conscience
.
The trial lasted less than two hours. Dominic supposed he should be grateful that it lasted even that long. The worst of it was not the sketchy evidence or the twisting of events or the flat-out lies. It was not even anxious anticipation of the verdict, for he was never in doubt of that.
The worst of it was watching men he had commanded in battle
and counseled with in peace pretending that this was anything but a sham. At least they seemed more or less ashamed of themselves, enough that most of them would not look at him directly. Only Lord Burghley met his eyes boldly, and Dominic was certain of the sympathy he read there. But sympathy could not help him now.
Dominic barely concerned himself with the details of the day. It was enough to be lumped in with Norfolk’s rebels, to have his relationship with Renaud examined in light of a French-Catholic conspiracy aimed at deposing William and putting either Mary Tudor or Mary Stuart on the throne. They even managed to claim that, as a great-grandson of Edward IV, Dominic had intended to wed one of the Marys himself and rule with her. How he was supposed to manage that when he was already married—legitimately, as far as the Catholics were concerned—was glossed over. The suspicion was enough.
The Attorney General to the Lord Judges: Let me note unto you that he hath long lived in friendship with this prince, and so highly advanced by His Majesty’s favor that he should have trembled to think of such rebellion as he now has enterprised. Doth not my lord of Exeter now enjoy his title by the gift of this prince? Was he not made Lieutenant of the March at the mere age of twenty? One of His Majesty’s council? To be Warden of the Cinque Ports, set above men who were his superior in both sense and experience? Yet all these were as cleverly forgotten as if they had never been
.
When the examinations had been made, Dominic was removed from the hall for a short time. Too short, he thought wryly, following the lieutenant back in after less than twenty minutes. Though he hadn’t expected salvation, it was disconcerting to be proven right so quickly.
The lords were polled individually. He listened without moving
as, one by one, each lord stood with bared head, placed his left hand on his right side, and proclaimed Dominic guilty. When they had finished, all eyes turned to the bar.
Lord High Steward: Dominic, Duke of Exeter, you must go to the place from whence you came and there remain during His Majesty’s pleasure, from thence to be drawn on a hurdle through London streets, and so to the place of execution, where you shall be hanged, boweled, and quartered. Your head and quarters to be disposed of at His Majesty’s pleasure, and so God have mercy on your soul
.
Dominic was asked if he had anything he wished to say.
This was the moment he’d been waiting for, and he invested his final words with as much humility as he could muster. “My lords, do but send to me at the time of my death and you shall see how penitent and humble I will be in acknowledging His Majesty’s exceeding favours to myself. And I do most humbly desire His Majesty that my death may put a period to my offenses committed, and be no more remembered by His Grace.”
It was the nearest he could come to petitioning William directly for Minuette’s life.
“T
ELL ME
, D
R
. Dee, did you see Dominic Courtenay’s fate in the stars when you spoke to us at Greenwich? Did you know then how all this would end in blood and tears?”
Elizabeth prowled her presence chamber at Hampton Court, the glittering space empty apart from herself, Francis Walsingham, and John Dee, who had arrived in England from his Continental travels just the day before. Though Dee’s face bore the marks of fatigue and long hours of hard journeying, his eyes and voice were steady as ever.
“Your Highness, I have told you many times that I see only what the stars lay out according to men’s natures and positions. I do not tell the future, nor do I ordain it. We are all as God made us in our various spheres.”
“That’s not good enough!” Elizabeth slammed one palm on a tabletop, not sure if her temper was fury or grief.
Or terror.
Because Minuette would stand trial for high treason the day after tomorrow. If William could indeed condemn Dominic to the executioner’s block, what else might he be capable of?
With effort, Elizabeth pulled the edges of her unraveling self
together. “How has God made me, Doctor? Do I act according to my impulses, or restrain myself to prudence?”
There was a long silence, and Elizabeth turned to face the men. Walsingham caught her eye and she was more grateful than she could say that she had met him. A man committed wholly to her service was such a luxury of relief. Dominic had once been that man for William …
When John Dee spoke, Elizabeth felt that odd sense of present and future combining. She had felt it the first time she met him, a certainty that this was a man important to her, a man she would seek out again and again in the years to come. A man who would give her not easy answers but a path to find the hard ones.
“God made you to see widely, Your Highness. Rarely will you be blinded by immediate troubles, looking always to what will follow from how you deal with them.”
“So I am cold and prudent?”
“You are wise. That does not mean you do not feel. Only those who feel deeply can judge rightly the effects of their own and others’ choices.”
There were times when Elizabeth would like someone to tell her that she was lighthearted or merry or restful … but she was too clearheaded and ambitious for those moments to last long. Now she sighed, and finally sat down. Waving the two men to seats of their own, she said, “What is the latest word from France?”
None of it was good. The Duke of Norfolk had at last been received at the French court and King Henri appeared to be giving serious consideration to providing the duke with troops and ships in the spring to launch a new offensive in England. The seriousness of the offer was underscored by the news that Norfolk was negotiating a marriage to the daughter of one of the French
king’s courtiers. Elizabeth wondered how much Henri’s maneuvering of Norfolk was simply a gamble to see if England could be plucked away from the troublesome Tudors with someone else bearing the physical brunt of the work. Money and mercenaries were relatively simple to come by, compared with a leader in whom burned a righteous fervor. Also, Mary Stuart, Queen of Scotland and the lead Catholic contender for England’s throne, would soon be fifteen. Rumour was she would finally marry the French dauphin in the next year. What better wedding gift for her new father-in-law than an island ruled jointly by Mary and her French husband?
“Your Highness,” Walsingham finally said. “Have you given thought to Mistress Wyatt’s condition?”
The entirety of Europe knew that Minuette was now seven months pregnant. If her trial ended in a conviction and sentence of death, she would at the very least be spared long enough to give birth. That gave Elizabeth precious time in which to maneuver. If she decided to maneuver. That was the thrust of Walsingham’s question, for he knew the princess very well indeed. If she decided to aid Minuette, then Walsingham would be her hands.
“I am constantly giving thought to her condition,” Elizabeth answered. “I have asked Robert Dudley to attend her trial. When he brings word to me of the verdict, it will be time enough for you and I to speak.”
Because she still had hope, slender though it was, that the jury would not convict a pregnant woman. That if they did, they would soften her sentence. That even if Minuette were condemned, William would be moved to one of those careless acts of mercy which he favored. She would not undermine her brother while she still had hope.
LETTER FROM ROBERT DUDLEY TO ELIZABETH TUDOR
10 October 1557
Elizabeth,
It is done. I am truly sorry. She has been convicted and sentenced to death.
Early on it seemed the case might founder, for the witnesses were either so vague as to be meaningless or so openly hostile as to discredit themselves more than her. The greatest sensation of the morning was poor Jonathan Percy, summoned from his quiet life of musical composition to provide evidence of Minuette’s early moral laxness. He would not play their game. As he poetically put it, “She is as pure as the snow and as good as a springtime morning.” And then he denounced all as a scourge of hypocrites, and stalked out. They didn’t even try to bring him back. They knew their most damaging witness was still to come.
Unlike her twin brother, Eleanor Percy is such a skillful liar she could make the Pope believe that Martin Luther was a reasonable man. She spoke of her brother’s admirable if ill-conceived defense of a woman he had once loved, twisting that defense into a matter of honour rather than truth.
But Eleanor had more. She did not so much as bat an eyelash when she claimed that Minuette had sought out “unnatural practices” to keep the king enslaved to her body and soul. I have a shrewd idea of what practices Eleanor meant—and how she comes to know about them. But none of that matters. All that matters is that she painted a convincing picture of a scheming, manipulative whore who was sleeping with half the court and either wanted to kill William to prevent him finding out or wished to get herself pregnant so William would have to marry her.
Minuette is back in the Tower tonight, she and Dominic both, waiting for William.
Don’t do anything rash.
Robert
Elizabeth exercised all her control to stand still. Pacing would have been both unfeminine and far too revealing of her state of mind. She must appear calm, appealing to reason rather than emotion, or she wouldn’t have a chance.
She sank into a graceful curtsey the moment the door opened and kept her eyes carefully lowered until she was spoken to.
