In The Midst of Madness: Tudor Chronicles Book Two

by Lesley Jepson

  ‘Sleep with me, Kate. I will be kind, I promise.’ Tom’s breath was coming faster as he found his way through all the velvet and layers of cotton petticoat to the back of Kate’s leg.

  ‘No, Tom,’ she shook off his hand and put her hands against his doublet, ‘we might be discovered any moment behind this hanging. I would not dishonour Lord Latimer with my behaviour.’

  Tom Seymour sighed in frustration. He had wanted Kate for a long time, since she came to court when she was first married to Lord Brough, a wide-eyed and innocent thirteen year old. He had thought that he might marry her when she was widowed, but her father had whisked her away from court so quickly, that Tom, involved as he was with the King and the political ambition of his brother, felt he had missed his chance. Now she was back, and married to another old, sick man.

  ‘I must see you alone, Kate. I just have to. Can you come to my chamber? I wouldn’t want to risk your reputation by visiting yours.’ He made an effort to show his more gentlemanly qualities by allowing Kate the choice.

  ‘I will think about it, Tom. But now I must go. I was taking the book I dropped to my husband.’ She put her head round the tapestry to see if they were observed. ‘Stay for a moment, and go the other way. I would not have it seen that you follow me,’ and she smoothed her skirt and left him there.

  Tom peered out from behind the hanging after he had waited for a few moments. Kate was no longer in the gallery, but just as he looked out, a young maid of honour was passing. His hand shot out and grabbed her, and she squeaked in surprise as she saw who was hiding in the shielded embrasure.

  ‘Oh, Sir Thomas. You startled me!’ He pulled her towards him and she giggled delightedly. She was tiny, so he lifted her and sat her on the edge of the window ledge, then bent his head and kissed her lips deeply.

  ‘How now, sweeting,’ he whispered, ‘aren’t you a lovely one?’

  The girl giggled again, placing her hands round Tom’s neck as his mouth went down the side of her neck onto her bosom. He stroked her cheek and neck with one hand, while his other hand ran up from her ankle to past the top of her stocking, to the flesh of her thigh. She squirmed delightedly on the window’s edge and opened her thighs slightly. He groaned as his hand travelled further up her leg and she unlaced the front of his breeches. Suddenly he grabbed her buttocks and thrust into her, moaning into her neck as she sighed excitedly and pushed herself further onto him. He was so aroused, thinking about what might be to come with Kate that his climax surprised him with its speed and ferocity. The girl’s eyes opened wide, then she shivered with her own peak in astonishment.

  ‘My Lord,’ she whispered as she kissed him again. ‘Oh, my Lord!’ Tom lifted her down, and re-laced his breeches as she shook out her petticoats, smoothed her gown and straightened her hood. He caught her hands in his and kissed her fingers gently.

  ‘That was wonderful, sweeting. I do hope we meet again.’ He had no idea who she was, and was determined not to ask her name. She obviously knew who he was, but that wouldn’t matter.

  ‘So do I, my Lord,’ she giggled, then peeped round the hanging and stepped out of the embrasure, hurrying to where she had been going before the interruption.

  ‘Ah Kate, see what you make me do!’ muttered Tom Seymour as he replaced his bonnet on his head, then swaggered along the gallery to find out what his brother had wanted him for, at least half an hour ago.

  He wasn’t concerned that Edward might have found out about him and Anne. He wouldn’t have had such a formal summons for that, and he wasn’t even sure if Edward would care. But when he reached the chamber his brother used as an office, he was astounded to see Archbishop Cranmer and Thomas Wriothesley seated by the fireplace.

  ‘Close the door, brother and have some wine,’ Edward poured a cup and held it out. ‘We must speak about the Queen.’

  ***

  ‘How was the Queen with the King when they were on progress?’ asked Wriothesley, sipping from his cup.

  ‘Well enough, I imagine,’ answered Tom, drinking deeply from his own. ‘He is as besotted as ever, and she endures his pawing with a smile. In fact, sometimes I think she is not even aware of what he is doing.’

  Tom raised his eyebrows in surprise at his own statement. He had never noticed before just how detached Kitty could be when Henry was with her, as if her mind was elsewhere until he had finished kissing, or touching her, but explaining what he saw to these men had made him realise the strangeness of the situation.

  ‘You did not see her ….. consorting with any other men, Tom?’ his brother’s blunt question. Tom snorted with laughter.

  ‘Consorting, Ned? She is the Queen, constantly surrounded by courtiers, maids, and at night guarded by that old dragon, Jane Rochford. And forgive me for saying it of the Queen, but she doesn’t seem to have the .. wit … to keep a secret!’

  ‘Well, one of her women has come to Cranmer here, worrying that the Queen is imperilling her immortal soul with her wanton ways.’ Wriothesley chose his words carefully, Tom noticed, when speaking of the Queen.

  ‘With whom is she supposed to have been consorting?’ asked Tom, amazed.

  ‘Mistress Bulmer says she has been seeing Tom Culpeper, and acting most wantonly with him.’ Cranmer spoke as if his tongue was soiled by every salacious word.

  Tom spluttered, in the middle of another swallow of wine when the name of Culpeper was spoken.

  ‘Tom Culpeper? That … boy … that tends to the King’s leg?’

  ‘Why do you say it like that, Tom?’ his brother asked quickly. Wriothesley, he noticed, had started to take notes at the meeting.

  Tom glanced casually round the room, then smiled slyly. ‘I didn’t know he had it in him, that’s all. I always took him for a sodomite! All those herbs and salves and potions.’

  Cranmer looked as if he would be struck down with God’s wrath simply for being in the room when such a word was spoken, whilst Wriothesley’s pen scratched faster and his brother Ned looked askance at him.

  ‘You know of no impropriety of the Queen, Tom?’

  ‘No, Ned, I don’t. Unless wearing no shift or petticoat under her silks while dancing after supper is impropriety.’ Tom laughed at the look on his brother’s face.

  ‘Either you did not dance with her, brother, or you did not think to notice.’ Tom chortled at his brother’s discomfiture.

  ‘I am too much of a gentleman to try and peer down the neckline of the Queen, Tom,’ Edward replied disdainfully. Wriothesley’s pen got faster, and Cranmer closed his eyes.

  ‘Then you’re missing a rare treat, Ned. Well, not so rare – she does it every time the King will be there.’ He laughed again at the looks on their faces and finished his wine.

  ‘Is that all you wanted, Ned? I do have somewhere else to go if you’re finished. Perhaps you should ask her laundry maids about her sheets?’

  ‘Perhaps you are right, brother. We need to ask many people a great many more questions before we bring this to the King.’ His brother sat down heavily at his desk and poured himself another goblet of wine. Tom stood and Ned waved his dismissal. As he closed the door, both Cranmer and Wriothesley drew their chairs up to Ned’s great desk and they began to speak in hushed tones.

  Tom closed the door and went in search of his sister-in-law. Ned would be busy for several hours and the talk of the Queen’s indiscretions had made a tightness in his breeches that he knew his brother’s icy wife would be happy to deal with.

  Chapter 18 - 1541

  eg threw on a robe over her nightgown when she heard hoofs in the courtyard, and grabbing a lantern from the gallery wall, she went swiftly down the kitchen stairs and out into the yard. Ralph dismounted from his horse and handed the reins to
his groom with a word of thanks.

  He turned and she flew into his arms, kissing his face and hands. She had missed him so much, and she didn’t know when they would be together again. He put his hands on either side of her face and kissed her deeply, then snuggling her into his shoulder, they walked back to the house.

  ‘Is it bad, Ralph?’ Meg whispered as she led him up the stairs to her chamber.

  ‘It is worse than that, sweet Meg. And I will tell you all about it, but not yet.’ He turned at the door and swept her into his arms, carrying her to the bed and kicking the door closed behind them.

  ‘Then I am happy to wait to hear,’ she whispered as her husband enfolded her in his arms and drew her close, not wanting to waste another minute of the time they had together.

  ***

  ‘The King wept, sweet Meg. Wept like a child. Tom Wriothesley said no-one knew what to do. Cranmer was worse than useless, and you know what Ned Seymour can be like. Cold is too warm a word! Tom tried to ask what they should do, but Henry was unable to speak for a long time.’

  ‘Oh, Ralph. How awful. I can’t say I like the King, but I wouldn’t want to see him reduced to that, without dignity in front of so many.’

  ‘The Queen screamed, my Meg. Screamed that the King loved her, and if she could just speak to him, he would remember he loved her and it would be all right again. She slipped out of the grasp of her guards and ran screaming along the gallery!’

  ‘Poor, sweet little Kitty.’ Tears slid down her cheek and dripped onto Ralph’s chest. ‘She won’t know what to do, unless someone goes to help her. Who will help her, Ralph?’

  ‘I fear no-one can, my Meg. When the King had recovered himself, he ordered everyone involved to be arrested. The Tower is full of the people involved. Norfolk will be lucky not to be implicated this time, if it is discovered that he knew.’

  Meg gasped in horror. ‘Who is imprisoned, my love?’ she whispered, trying to wipe her tears with her fingers. Ralph took her hand and kissed it, then held it close to his chest in his relief that Meg was well away from court and living safely at Hatfield.

  ‘Well, the Queen is being held at Sion House, not the Tower. She has Lady Tylney and Lady Morton with her, and Lady Hertford to watch her at the instruction of her husband Ned. In the Tower are Tom Culpeper of course, but also Jane Rochford, Francis Dereham and the Dowager Duchess Agnes. They are in some of the apartments.’

  Meg closed her eyes, transported back to when she was in the Tower with Anne, smelling the fear that seemed to emanate from the very walls. She knew what the apartments were like. Anne had been held in the Royal apartments, but George and the others had one room, or perhaps two, with damp stone walls and a tiny window. She felt sorry for those who were there.

  ‘Henry Mannox is held in the dungeon,’ Ralph said tersely. Meg knew what that meant – torture!

  ‘So what happens now, my love? Will they be put to the question?’ That was how it was phrased, she knew. “Put to the question”.

  ‘Mannox perhaps. He is not of noble birth.’ Meg shivered at the thought, and Ralph kissed her fingers again and hugged her closer. ‘The others will just be questioned. To see where the stories match, at first. Then, perhaps questioned harder if it is thought they lie.’ He turned his head on the pillow and looked at Meg.

  ‘I may have to ask some of those questions, sweet Meg. It is part of my job, and I cannot shrink from it. But I would not have you think less of me for it.’ He held his breath and waited for her response. She leant up so she could reach his lips with her own, and kissed him lovingly.

  ‘I know you are not what you do, my love. You are my husband, my Ralph, gentle, kind and loving.’ She kissed him again, deeper this time. ‘What you do in your job can never affect how I think of you.’

  He closed his eyes in relief at her answer, then reached for her once more. Neither of them knew when the madness would conclude and they could be together again.

  ***

  ‘Hell’s teeth, Mary, we have to do something!’ Norfolk paced her solar at Hever, one hand behind his back, the other clutching a large goblet of wine. Mary thought the smith might be busy after this visit.

  ‘What would you like me to do, Uncle?’ Mary was in no mood to indulge his vanity and call him ‘Monseigneur’ today. It was his vanity and ambition that had brought them to this.

  ‘You might have to go and speak to Kitty, get her testimony.’ He turned and looked at Mary, who was stunned at his words. ‘Hell’s teeth, girly, she screams when anyone goes to ask her questions. Tom Wriothesley couldn’t get her to stop, nor could Richard Rich! The council wondered if you could go and speak to her; perhaps take Ralph Sadler with you to write it down? Then she’s not speaking to a man, but to her cousin?’ Norfolk gave Mary a hopeful look and poured himself more wine.

  ‘What are the others saying, Uncle? Do you know?’ Mary tried to keep her voice even, when what she really wanted to do was scream, “How could you let this happen again?”

  ‘I have to know, Mary. They show all the evidence to me. I am still in charge of the Privy Council.’

  ‘And will you have to judge her at her trial?’ The unspoken accusation of his role in the trail of Anne and George hung in the air.

  ‘There will be no trial this time, Mary. There will just be the evidence. She will be found guilty from the evidence.’ He drank his wine and poured more.

  ‘What is the evidence then, Uncle? What will condemn her?’

  ‘My father’s wife insists she knew nothing. She is adamant that she locked the girls in their room, and whatever happened while she was asleep is nothing to do with her! Francis Dereham insists he was her husband when she was at Horsham, and as a married couple they did nothing wrong. But Jane….’ His voice trailed away as he shook his head and buried his nose in his goblet.

  ‘Jane? What does Jane Rochford say this time?’ Disgust from Mary in every word.

  Norfolk sighed, and poured himself another drink. Mary was pleased she had watered her wine in time for his visit. If she had not, the Duke would have had to be carried back to court in a litter. She tried not to smile at this thought, and listened as Norfolk told her what Jane had said.

  ‘Jane thought that Kitty should be allowed to meet her true love in secret. That the King had deprived her of her true love when he had George killed,’ he paused while Mary’s derisive laughter died away, ‘and she had her vengeance on the King by helping his wife to cuckold him!’

  ‘Dear God,’ whispered Mary, ‘Jane just admitted treason!’

  ‘And she will go to the block for it, niece. As will Culpeper, and probably Dereham. I doubt Henry will want vengeance on the Dowager, so my father’s wife should be safe. I have had no charges brought against me, and I am still in post, so I am safe, as are you. But I don’t know what Henry wants to do about Kitty.’ He shrugged and shook his head before taking another swallow of wine.

  ‘He could divorce her, Uncle. Her pre-contract with Dereham would give him the excuse to send her to a nunnery.’ Mary’s eyes closed in pain at thinking of pretty, silly Kitty taking the veil.

  ‘He might want vengeance for Culpeper, Mary. He is a vengeful King!’

  ‘He has become a monster, Uncle. He terrorises his subjects in every aspect of their lives. He used to be so kind, so full of light and laughter and joy. He is that man no longer.’ Mary rose from her chair and went to face Norfolk, staring out of the window as usual, and drinking his wine.

  ‘I will speak to Kitty, Uncle. And Ralph can write down her responses, hidden if that makes her feel better. But I want you to try and convince Henry that a mighty King such as he doesn’t need vengeance on a silly nineteen-year old girl.’

  Norfolk gr
unted in acknowledgement at her words, and poured himself more wine. Mary wondered if there was enough wine in the world to numb Norfolk’s conscience at what his ambition had done.

  ***

  Kitty sat white-faced and shaking as she recounted her life at Horsham to Mary. Ralph sat behind a screen, taking notes. Kitty couldn’t see him, but Mary could. Mary could see how the quill trembled in his fingers as he listened to the tragic story told by this child-Queen and wrote it all down, not letting the tears in his eyes fall and smudge the ink on the parchment.

  Kitty had agreed to tell her story to Mary, because her cousin loved her, and she would allow only Ralph to scribe it, as he was Meg’s husband and Meg loved her too. Tom Wriothesley was relieved that she would speak to someone without screaming, and that she would tell the truth; he knew that her mental acuity was such that she wouldn’t think to lie, but the different tales coming from the Tower, from the Dowager Duchess, from Jane Rochford, from Tom Culpeper, from Henry Mannox and from Francis Dereham meant that he didn’t know what charges to bring until he knew the truth. That was what Mary must bring him.

  ‘Tell me what it was like when you were young, my lovely’, said Mary gently. ‘When you lived with Grandmamma.’

  ‘There were lots of us, Cousin. Lots of girls in one long bedroom, and lots of boys in another. I had lots of friends. Grandmamma used to lock the doors at night, so we couldn’t play together. But one of the boys had a spare key, so they used to come and see us, and bring us food. They were lovely to us.’

  ‘Were you often hungry, my lovely?’

  ‘Oh, yes! Grandmamma said that she was a poor old lady that no-one cared about. She said that was why she had so many lovely young men and girls in her house, so they would keep her company and love her. But she didn’t have enough money to feed us all properly.’

  ‘But she had enough money to pay Henry Mannox to give you all music lessons?’

  Kitty looked at Mary slyly. Her terror had seemed to abate as she grew more comfortable talking about her girlhood to Mary. ‘Henry used to live in Grandmamma’s bedroom, Cousin. I don’t think she paid him with money.’ Kitty smiled knowingly and Mary tried to keep the disgust she felt off her face.