The Queen In Waiting: Mary Tudor takes the throne (The Tudor Saga Series Book 5)

by David Field

‘Can you recall whether or not anyone searched inside it during Lady Elizabeth’s arrest?’

  ‘Not so far as I can remember. We were too busy organising the mistress’s clothing for travel, so I might have missed that happening. There were quite a few armed men around the place, but so far as I can recall none of them examined her jewel case.’

  ‘You mentioned that “we” were busy organising the Lady Elizabeth’s clothing. To whom were you referring, other than yourself?’

  ‘Lucy Barton, the mistress’s seamstress and Betty Cropper, her laundress.’

  ‘Where was the jewel case kept, at that time?’

  ‘In the mistress’s bedchamber, along with most of her clothing. We were all in there deciding what she should take with her, since the weather was inclement and a physician from London was insisting that she should not travel beyond a few miles a day.’

  ‘So the jewel case was in the same room as yourself, Lucy Barton and Betty Cropper, have I got the correct picture in my head?’ Cecil asked as he looked meaningfully at Thomas to pay attention.

  ‘Yes, so far as I can remember.’

  ‘And there were armed men coming and going from the same chamber?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Where was the jewel case kept after your mistress left for London?’

  ‘The Steward locked it in his private quarters and gave it into the safe keeping of his wife.’

  ‘Where it remained until your return?’

  ‘Yes. It was when it was handed back to me that I realised that some items were missing. At first I had the terrible suspicion that Mary Mellows — the Steward’s wife — might have been responsible, but she swore a solemn oath on the Bible that the case had not been touched during her management of its safety and she’s a deeply religious woman.’

  ‘If not Mary Mellows, who would you most suspect — Lucy Barton or Betty Cropper?’

  Blanche thought for a moment before replying. ‘Lucy Barton, most likely. She’s always been a bit “shifty”, if you get my meaning and not always attentive to her duties. There’s also constant talk around the household that she’s free with her favours, for the right price, but you probably know better than I how much reliance to place on domestic tittle-tattle. As for Betty Cropper, she’s a somewhat elderly widow, much thought of in the local parish where she lives and she only comes in on two days a week. So, of the two, Lucy Barton.’

  ‘Are you listening, Thomas?’ Cecil called across the table to the space on the floor where Thomas was counting spoons. ‘Lucy Barton — you might wish to consider befriending her. If necessary I’ll lend you a shilling to more fully engage her interest.’

  ‘What are you intending that the poor boy should do and why?’ Blanche asked.

  ‘It’s alleged in London that when your mistress was arrested, a document was found in her jewel case implicating her in the recent Wyatt Rebellion. From what you’re advising me, the person who might have had the greatest reason and opportunity, to examine the contents of that case was Lucy Barton. The lad here can employ his talents for underhanded behaviour in order to discover whether or not that was so.’

  Unknown to Cecil, Thomas was well on his way towards worming his way inside Lucy Barton’s confidence, not to mention her shift. It was only his second day mixing with the remaining staff in the servants’ quarters and he had another talent that not even his own family knew about. He’d already talked his way into intimate behaviour with half the Attenborough girls of his age, in addition to one considerably older, and Lucy Barton had attracted his glad eye from the first. She was tall for her seventeen years, with long flaxen hair and a generous bosom that was not always well laced into the bodice of her gown, while for a seamstress she seemed remarkably careless regarding the rents in her gown that revealed a good deal of her thighs as she flounced in and out of the kitchen.

  Thomas had watched her closely, taking care to ensure that she was aware of his eyes following her everywhere and had then succeeded in heightening her interest by the simplest ruse he knew — paying attention to another girl. That other girl was the unfortunately dim-witted, but well-endowed, Jane Pounder, kitchen hand and assistant to the cook. As soon as Thomas began to talk with Jane in a friendly but suggestive manner, Lucy Barton had requested his assistance in carrying a consignment of repaired garments up to the chambers occupied by the Steward and his wife. On the return journey, Lucy had pulled Thomas into an alcove, embraced and kissed him hotly while pressing his hand onto her breast and advising him that Jane Pounder had a severe case of the pox.

  Once Thomas was more fully instructed on what information Cecil was after, it was — for Thomas, anyway — all too easy. A few less than subtle references to his interest in exploring the grounds after dark ‘in order to admire the wildlife’ and Lucy was more than happy to oblige, with no charge other than a promise by Thomas to pay Jane Pounder no more attention. Thomas took delight in returning Cecil’s shilling with the gleeful announcement that he had never been required, at any time in his short life, to pay for a girl’s favours and Cecil sharply reminded him that he was not there to enjoy himself, but to learn what he could regarding the contents of the jewel case when Lady Elizabeth had been led away to London.

  Early the following morning Thomas was seated on the ground outside the kitchen, chewing on some bread that Jane had slipped to him, when the Groom of the Stable, Matthew Parsons, plumped himself down beside him with a sick smile.

  ‘Don’t get too sweet on Lucy. We’ve all ’ad ’er and she’s spoken for ter Edmund Blake — ’im what ran off wi’ the silver. Yer can catch ’em at it dahn in the coppice be the lake most nights, an’ Edmund musta bin off somewhere else last night, when yer was doin’ ’er by the back fence. ’alf the ’ouse’old was watchin’ the two o’ yer, by the way.’

  Thomas went bright red, but covered up his embarrassment with a suitable offhand jest. ‘I hope you were all watching carefully how it’s done. But who’s this “Blake” person?’

  ‘’E used ter be Under-Steward ’ere, ’til ’e were caught thievin’ some o’ the silver from the table. ’E ran off, but Lucy still sneaks out most nights ter see ’im, an’ they goes dahn by the lake, in the trees. They reckon there’s still stuff goin’ missin’ from the ’ouse, an’ that it’s Lucy what’s stealin’ it, an’ passin’ it on ter Edmund.’

  ‘Thanks for the warning,’ Thomas replied, trying his best to look crestfallen rather than smile at the prospect of five pounds coming into his possession with very little effort and most of that pleasurable. He sought out Cecil and told him what he had learned; then, as requested, he said nothing to anyone while Cecil made plans of his own.

  The full moon was high in a clear sky as Lucy slipped down the meadow barefoot towards the coppice by the lake where Edmund Blake was waiting for her as usual. They embraced and Lucy was seen to slip something small and shiny into Blake’s hand before she reached up to the shoulders of her gown and let it slide into the leaf litter. Then with a frightened shout she lifted it back up to cover her embarrassment as three burly constables crashed into their clearing. Two of them held firmly onto Blake, while the third, accompanied by Cecil and Thomas, confronted Lucy.

  ‘What did you just hand over to this man?’ Cecil demanded.

  Lucy glared back at him defiantly. ‘Don’t know what yer on abaht.’ She transferred her glare to Thomas, then spat in his face with a few well-chosen oaths.

  ‘Search that man,’ Cecil ordered the other two constables, and in less than a minute they had taken from Blake’s pocket a silver necklace set with rubies. Cecil held it up in the moonlight that was shafting down between the trees under which they were standing and smiled. ‘“Fit for a Queen”, as the expression goes. Except that I’d bet my reputation on this having once been in the possession of a Queen’s sister. You can take him away and deliver him first to the Clerk of Quarter Sessions, then the hangman. I’ll be your witness, should one be necessary. As for you, young lady, you can earn your freedom
from the noose by giving us certain important information. You’ll be in need of new employment after you’ve done so, but at least you won’t hang and you’ll in all probability be saving the life of your soon to be former mistress.’

  ‘Yer not foolin’ me, are yer?’ Lucy demanded an hour later, as she sat, her hands twisting nervously in her lap, in front of the table on the other side of which sat William Cecil and Blanche Parry. ‘Yer won’t ’and me over ter the constables if I tells yer the truth?’

  ‘Be assured that we won’t,’ Cecil reassured her with a fatherly smile. ‘But if you don’t tell us the truth, we will.’

  ‘Whatyer wantin’ ter know?’ she asked.

  ‘When was it that you stole those items of jewellery from your mistress’s jewel case?’ Cecil asked.

  ‘It were when they was takin’ the mistress off ter London. There was lots o’ folk comin’ and goin’ through the room where we ’ad ’er clothes laid aht, an’ when Mistress Parry ’ere said that she weren’t takin’ ’er jools wi’ ’er, that’s when I took me chance. I wrapped the box in one o’ the mistress’s dirty shifts an’ took it inter the guard-robe. Then I pinched an ’andful o’ the shiniest lookin, stuffed ’em dahn me bodice, then walked back aht an’ put the jool case on the bed. Then Mistress Parry told the Steward ter lock it away somewhere, an’ I bin slippin’ bits ter Eddy Blake ever since.’

  ‘The one we found in your bedding,’ Blanche asked, ‘are you sure it’s the last of them?’

  ‘Yeah, ’onest — Eddy ’ad all the rest.’

  ‘Now, this is the most important question of all,’ Cecil told her. ‘When you first opened the case, was there anything else in it other than jewels?’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Anything — paper, string, hair pins — anything.’

  ‘No — just jools.’

  ‘Definitely not any letters?’

  ‘No, ’cos I’d’ve remembered that, wouldn’t I? Yer don’t keep letters in jool boxes, does yer?’

  ‘And can you be sure that none of the armed men who came to collect your mistress went anywhere near that jewel box?’

  ‘Really sure. They was mainly yellin’ ter the mistress ter get a move on, an’ like I said I took the case inter the guard-robe an’ robbed it. When I put it back on the bed, they was leavin’, an’ they ’ad the mistress be the arm.’

  ‘Thank you, Mistress Barton,’ Cecil said as he sat back in his chair with a contended sigh. ‘I’ll be writing a short statement for you to sign and as an authorised Justice of the Peace I’ll get you to swear it on oath on the Bible, then you’re free to look for another position.’

  X

  Queen Mary was clearly on the point of exploding with frustration and anger, but it was uncertain which of the two apprehensive men who stood before her with bowed heads would receive the full blast. Cecil had been the first to raise the royal hackles, by presenting Mary with the sworn statement of Lucy Barton, to the effect that there had been no letter from Courtenay in Elizabeth’s jewel case when she had been taken under armed escort from Hatfield.

  Mary had the presence of mind not to take the news out on Cecil, who was, after all, only the messenger, even if she was annoyed by the fact that he had taken such trouble to collect evidence of Elizabeth’s innocence. He was clearly a man to be watched in future, and perhaps the time had come to deprive him of an office that brought him into such close contact with Elizabeth.

  In the meantime Gardiner had some explaining to do. Mary waved the sworn statement high in the air as she glared down at him. ‘Lord Chancellor, pray explain to me how you were in possession of a letter alleged to have been discovered in the Lady Elizabeth’s jewel case at the time of her apprehension, when Cecil here — who is, after all, the man entrusted with the management of her estates — now brings me evidence that no such letter was in existence at that time, and certainly not where you advised me it was found.’

  Gardiner swallowed hard before replying, ‘The letter is genuine, Your Majesty.’

  ‘That was not my question, Gardiner. Genuine or not — where and when was it discovered, if indeed it was? Or was it obtained by less honest means?’

  ‘I — I — it was given to me by my Lord of Norfolk, Your Majesty, and it was from him that I learned that it had been found where alleged.’

  ‘And you simply accepted his assurance on that matter, did you? Did it not occur to you to question why Norfolk was not prepared to reveal the existence of this letter to me in person, but left it, instead, to his messenger?’

  ‘Your Majesty, I had no reason to doubt the word of the Earl Marshall of England.’

  ‘Neither did I — until now. And where, pray, might the Earl Marshall be found this day?’

  ‘I have heard, Majesty, that he has retired to his estate in Suffolk, since he is far from well.’

  ‘It is to be hoped, for his sake, that this information is more reliable than the last that he conveyed to me by means of his tame mouthpiece. And I suppose that you will now advise me that you have no better grounds than Norfolk’s word for bringing to me that letter from the Ambassador de Noailles in which he instructed his master to blockade the Channel with English ships on my sister’s urging?’

  ‘No, Your Majesty. Both documents were entrusted to me by my Lord of Norfolk.’

  ‘Likewise, you know nothing of any laxity on the part of the Lieutenant of the Tower that led to my sister being allowed to cavort with Robert Dudley, in full view of those who were supposed to be closely guarding her?’

  ‘No, Your Majesty.’

  Mary sat back heavily in her generously padded chair, breathing hard and red of face, leaving her two courtiers standing where they had been commanded to. The seconds ticked by nervously for Cecil and Gardiner as Mary appeared to be thinking deeply. Eventually she raised her head again and glared at Gardiner.

  ‘Who is the current Constable of the Tower?’

  ‘Sir Henry Bedingfield, Your Majesty.’

  Mary smiled unpleasantly as she nodded. ‘As I remembered. He made an efficient business of imprisoning my late mother, so let us see if he can rehabilitate himself by keeping my sister under closer guard than those currently under him. Gardiner, in the absence of the Earl Marshall, you may make some use, for once, of your office as Lord Chancellor. Advise Bedingfield to replace the current Lieutenant of the Tower with someone who takes his duties more seriously, then to attend upon me here. As for you, Cecil, I thank you for your service in bringing these unfortunate deceptions to my attention and to you I allocate the task of ascertaining precisely what so ails Norfolk that he has taken to his estates — other than perhaps a troubled conscience. You are both dismissed the presence.’

  Elizabeth sat curled up on the floor in the corner of her chamber, trembling uncontrollably and convinced that she was shortly to be beheaded. As the jailor closed the cell door behind him from the corridor side, advising Bedingfield that he would be found immediately on the other side of it, should he be required, Sir Henry looked down in some surprise at the cringing tearful bundle backed into the far corner of the cramped room, as if seeking to maximise the distance between them.

  ‘Pray tell me but when and I can prepare my soul for Purgatory,’ Elizabeth pleaded with him as she raised a tear-streaked face in his direction.

  ‘When what exactly, madam?’

  ‘When I will be taken out and beheaded. Or have you come to do the deed in person, with a concealed weapon in your cloak? Will you stab me or choke me to death with a length of hangman’s rope?’

  ‘I will do none of these things, madam, rest assured,’ Bedingfield replied quietly, concerned for the mental health of the lady for whom he was about to become responsible. ‘I come merely to advise you to prepare yourself for travel on the morrow.’

  ‘Where do you take me?’ Elizabeth asked in a quavering voice. ‘To some lonely place where only the crows will mourn my passing, then feed upon my remains?’

  ‘Have comfort, madam,’ Bedin
gfield replied reassuringly. ‘I am no cheap assassin, nor do I come to encompass your death in any way. The Queen has tasked me with removing you from here to Woodstock Palace, in Oxfordshire.’

  ‘Where I can be murdered away from prying eyes?’

  ‘No, madam, where you may be securely held until your sister further determines what is to become of you.’

  ‘Nothing to my benefit, if Mary has her way,’ Elizabeth muttered.

  Bedingfield noted with some relief that her initial hysteria appeared to have subsided. ‘I cannot be allowed to hear you say such things of your merciful sister, my Lady, so I will withdraw while you begin to prepare for your departure on the morrow.’

  ‘Indeed,’ Elizabeth replied with a hollow laugh as she raised herself onto her knees, ‘since I have so much to pack in preparation for my journey. Which gown shall I wear, I wonder? This stained brown one, or this stained brown one?’

  ‘Until the morrow,’ Bedingfield said as he thumped the door in order to be removed from the presence of this young woman who would clearly have lost her reason entirely if detained there much longer.

  Thomas Ashton was bored and this was never a good thing for those around him. Life in the Cecil household in Westminster was becoming tedious and he was impatient to take the next step on his glorious path to fame and fortune.

  ‘Dinner is to be served shortly,’ Cecil told him as he stepped out through the scullery door, ‘although I doubt that you’re hungry, since according to the cook you’ve sneaked enough coney pasties to feed half an army. And my son is complaining that you tore his doublet during your latest wrestling match.’

  Although fully a year younger than Cecil’s son, Thomas Ashton was several inches taller and a good deal more aggressive than Cecil’s bookish fourteen-year-old only child and delighted in challenging him to wrestle on the lawn whenever they were both bored, secure in the knowledge that he would always be the victor.

  ‘Even though it may be torn,’ Thomas muttered defiantly, ‘it’s still of a far better quality than mine. If you are to present me at Court, I will require better attire than this.’