“God help me to endure this,” he murmured. “You graceless girl! The King wept … wept indeed … tears of anguish … when he heard the truth. He says he will never marry again. You are a wicked, lewd girl … to have brought him to this. You are a disgrace to your family.”

I was feeling angry now. It helped soothe my wretchedness a little. I whipped it up, for I did not want to break into one of those fits of madness which had beset me since I had feared what my fate would be; and because I was as terrified of living as much as dying, I did not know which way to turn. I was like a trapped animal. I was a fool to have thought that Norfolk would have brought a spark of hope to my desperate plight. So I fanned my anger against him.

I cried: “Should you condemn the rest of us?”

He stared at me. “What mean you, insolent girl?”

“I am aware of your friendship with your laundress. Can you really be so very shocked by me?”

He stared at me, and I was pleased to see he was taken aback.

He stammered slightly: “I am not the wife of the King.”

I laughed sardonically.

“Pray do not seek with insolence to excuse your loathsome faults.”

“You can add hypocrisy to yours, my lord.”

I thought he was going to strike me, for he came toward me, hand raised. But doubtless he thought I was a pitiful creature, not worth his venom.

“I’ll have none of your insolence,” he said. “Do not attempt to prattle of what is beyond your understanding.”

“That is not beyond my understanding. It is, after all, a simple enough matter. I may be a foolish girl, but you, a man of rank and mature age, are an adulterer.”

His face was suffused with purple color. I did not care. I was too much afraid of death to be afraid of him; and I knew by now that he would have done nothing to help me. Indeed, he was on the side of those who would destroy me.

I said: “Then does it depend on who commits the act whether it is a sin or not? What of the King himself? The Duke of Richmond was his natural son.”

“Be silent! Do not add idiocy to your immorality. If you talk thus, there will be short shrift for you. I told you that when the King heard of your conduct, he wept … yes, bitter tears. Think what a future you could have had. The King believed in you. You deceived him completely.”

“I did not. I did not. I was myself… all the time.”

“You … a low wanton, sporting with a servant!”

“A higher rank than a laundress, and he is a Howard.”

He glared at me, ignoring the reference to his Bess Holland.

Then he said: “There are more than one claiming the name who are unworthy to do so. Your grandmother, the Dowager Duchess, has with her son behaved in a most unseemly manner. What a sad day for the family when they joined it. You have spurned my help, as has your grandmother. She is a foolish old woman. She is in the Tower now and this could cost her her head.”

“Oh no. She has done nothing … nothing.”

“She is a traitor. She knew of this … this intrigue between you and Derham and she accepted it. She allowed you to marry the King, when she knew full well that you were unworthy to do so.”

I was silent. It was true, in a way. She had known what had taken place between Derham and me. She had not allowed me to mention it. Then she had shown her guilt by opening Derham’s coffers, for fear something incriminating might be found there. She had given Damport money to persuade him not to reveal anything he might know against Derham. I could see that she had behaved in a very guilty manner. But she was old and tired and frightened. And the Duke would do nothing to help her—any more than he would for me. He would show himself to be against us more vehemently, in order to ingratiate himself with the King.

I could see that he was indeed our enemy.

There was only one who would help me: and that was the King himself.

I cried out: “I will speak to the King. I can explain to him. He will understand. He will listen to me. He will not be cruel … as you are.”

“You talk like a fool. Do you think the King will see you now that he knows you for the slut you are?”

“He will … he will. I know he will.”

“You have done enough harm already. Why am I plagued with such a family? And you are worse than any. To think that you are a niece of mine! There was that other niece. You know what happened to her, do you not? And here you are, proving to be such another. Your Uncle William and his wife! We have always been a great family … and these intruders!”

I wanted to tell him that the family had not always held high honors, even before his father married a second wife, who was his own stepmother. I felt wretched, thinking of her in that cold prison—she who had always felt the cold so keenly, and now she was old, infirm and very, very worried.

I wanted to shout at him, to tell him how heartless he was, how he cared only for himself, but what was the use? I was terrified that I would fall into one of my wild moods, when I became hysterical and in an even worse state than I was now.

I was greatly relieved when he went. He left me with a firm resolve. I had been right when I had said I must see the King.

I must. He was the only one who could save me. A word from him and everything would be well. I believed he would help me, if I could only talk to him.


* * *

I was obsessed with one thought. I had to find a way of seeing the King. I realized that no one would help me reach him. I had to find my own way to him. I would kneel to him. I would beg. Did I not know how to enchant him? I would appeal to him, remind him of what we had been to each other. Had he not said he had never had such pleasure in a woman as he had had in me?

I knew how to cajole and caress. I knew what pleased him. I would enchant him again, just as I had when we were first married.

I could do it. I knew it. The most difficult part was to reach him.

Although I did not see most of my ladies-in-waiting now, and Jane was the only one who talked with me, they were still in the household. They must not know what I intended to do.

Jane had said: “You know the King still loves you. They say he is very melancholy. He does not take pleasure in his food, as was his wont. They are saying he would have you back if it were not for his ministers. That is what he really wants.”

“I’m sure … if I could only speak with him …”

“They have sent messengers to France informing King Francis of all that has happened, and Francis has sent his condolences and sympathy. If only they had not done that.”

“What then?” I asked eagerly.

“The King would not want King Francis to think that the King of England could keep a wife who behaved as they say you have and then mildly forgive her. That is why they sent those messages to France, before the King could make some excuse for having you back.”

“Oh, no … no,” I said.

“But yes. It would destroy the King’s dignity … his standing. It would show him to be too dependent on you. Oh, they have made it difficult for him, but the fact that he wants you back should put heart into you.”

“It does. It does indeed, for, if he wants to … surely he will.”

“Well, you see, these people who are responsible for putting you where you are now … well, it would go ill with them if you were taken back to favor. They would think you would have your revenge.”

“Oh, I would not. I would not. I would be only too happy to forget.”

“Poor Derham. He will never be the same again. He is destroyed. Innocent Damport … you see, you could not forget.”

“Oh yes, poor Derham. He was so handsome. Oh, Jane, what can he be like now?”

“It is for you to think of getting back. If the King loves you enough … it could be so. They are saying he is more unhappy now than when he was ridding himself of Anne Boleyn, and that his feelings were no stronger for her than they were for you … in the beginning.”

“Oh, Jane, if only I could speak to him.”

“If the opportunity should come, you must be ready.”

“I swear I will, Jane. I swear it.”


* * *

I looked for it. I waited for it, and it came at length.

The King was at Hampton Court. My spirits rose at the thought of that. If it were going to happen, it would be now.

I realized that, although I was not in a cell, I was to a certain extent a prisoner.

My ladies were there, as they had been, although apart. They were, in a sense, my jailers. I had never attempted to break free from them, having no inclination to walk out. I could not face anyone at Court in my present situation. I was in no mood or any state to do so. All I wanted was to hide myself.

But now I must leave my apartments and get to that section of the palace where the King might be. I knew at what hour he would be attending Mass in the chapel, where I had often been with him. If I could reach him while he was there, I could be certain of seeing him, and that was what I proposed to do. To reach the chapel, I must traverse the long gallery which led to it, and this entailed descending the backstairs from my apartment before I came to the gallery: then I could hurry along it to the chapel.

I had only a vague idea how I should act when I saw Henry. My hair was flowing about my shoulders in the style he most liked. I would throw myself at his knees and I would sob out my misery. I should tell him that I only wished to live if he and I could be happy again as we had been when we were first married.

I pictured him as I had seen him so many times, his face creasing into tenderness, the slackness of his mouth, which could look so cruel and yet be gentle for me; I could see the tears of sentiment in the little eyes. I knew exactly how to make him look like that, and all I needed was to be with him.