"Have you thought of any more solutions to the dilemma?"
He did not answer right away, but glared at her, took a swig from
his goblet, and continued chewing. "Aye. But I do not care to
discuss it right now."
"Is it about the break with Rome?" She'd heard, not from Henry, who
discussed his matter with her less and less, but from talks among
Cardinal Wolsey and others, that a break with the Catholic Church
was the only solution to dissolve the marriage, though it would
bring with it even more problems than it might solve.
"I know you are disinclined to create your own church. 'Tis such a
grave matter and must be handled very delicately. But, sire, as your
closest confidante, I can help you sort out the details. I can give
you another point of view. A church that is not purely Catholic in
all its dogmas may be the solution for all. A more progressive
doctrine can be adapted without being considered heretic. Wolsey is
an old man who may not be as sharp as someone younger, someone who
can perhaps come up with more modern ideas and—"
"I am sick of this whole bloody matter!" he roared, spitting out a
small bone.
"Well, how long do you think I can sit and wait for us to truly be
together?"
"As damned long as I have to sit and wait!" he snapped.
"I am not the one who is desperate for an heir, my lord."
His face contorted with rage at that thought. "Nay, you are
desperate to drive me mad!"
"I am not! If this is not solved, our years together will be wasted!
I am not getting any younger, you know. You will tire of me and cast
me aside for some pretty young thing just like you are doing with
Catherine!"
Her eyes filled with tears and her vision of him became a blur of
reddened head and ever-fattening face surrounded by piles of food.
The sound of his chewing as he reached for a huge swan leg suddenly
disgusted her.
She threw her napkin to the table and rose to leave. Waiting another
few seconds for a reply, but finding none was forthcoming, she
turned and stalked out of his apartments, nearly knocking down Anne
Boleyn in the corridor as the little cat went about her business in
the shadowy night.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Henry chose the next day to embark on a hunting trip to his lodge in
Oxfordshire, taking the Boleyns—Anne included—with him. With this
perfect opportunity to visit home and see how the family was doing,
Amethyst swiftly tossed some garments into a trunk.
A knock at her chamber door brought her chambermaid in.
"You have a visitor, Lady Amethyst. She's in your receiving chamber.
Lady Topaz."
Topaz was here! Her first reaction was gladness. She was finally
going to see her sister after so these months. Then logic set in,
and she began to recall what had taken place on that last visit. She
immediately started wondering, and rightly so, exactly what her
sister wanted. She began to feel sure that it wasn't a social visit.
"I shall be glad to receive her," she said stiffly. "Do send her
in."
One of her ladies-in-waiting was sitting on a footstool working on
needlepoint and attendants were in the outer chamber chatting. If
Amethyst had any idea what her sister was here to discuss, she
thought it best they go somewhere alone. The chapel would be the
perfect place. It was empty from morning Mass until Vespers and it
was barely noon.
Moments later, the chambermaid returned, but Topaz pushing past her
through the doorway to Amethyst. She was a forest of deep rich green
satins. Her eyes echoed a circlet of green flowers gracing the
burnished copper that tumbled freely to her hips, windblown, yet
looking wild and natural. Her gown glowed, setting off the light
blue of the flowers strung round her neck, nestled in between her
uplifted breasts.
"Amethyst!"
They embraced lightly. The warmth of the greeting left Amethyst
still not knowing what to expect.
"Why do you visit me at court, Topaz? Is there a problem at home?
How are the lads?" she asked, ushering Topaz out of her apartments
into the hallway towards the chapel.
"All is well in Warwickshire. And where are we going?"
"To the chapel, where we will have complete privacy."
They reached the chapel and Amethyst leaned on the ancient wooden
door to open it. It squeaked on its rusty hinges as they entered,
then she closed it and they took seats at the back. Colored bands of
light streamed in through the stained glass windows and the aroma of
burning incense hung in the air.
"So Harry the Great is away. And where is the Queen?"
"She is preparing to be removed to Ampthill. Topaz, would you have
come had the King been in residence?"
"Perhaps. Just to see how fat he's gotten."
"He's not gotten fat; he's...muscular, that's all. Not only that, he
is wise and intellectual and well-read. We sit and discuss many
topics, sometimes until the wee hours of morning."
"When does he have time to consort with the likes of court
minstrels?" she asked suspiciously.
Amethyst heaved a sigh of relief. So the news of her closeness to
the King hadn't reached Warwickshire and Matthew hadn't told anyone.
She was sending all his letters to his other manor house in Evesham,
to keep them out of curious hands.
"The King is a cordial host and has time for all his courtiers."
"But of course. What else has he got to do?" her sister said with a
dismissive wave.
"So what other tidings do you bring, Topaz? Have you finally brought
your cavalry of rebels to storm the palace?" she said lightly,
though the pang at her heart as soon as she uttered the words
momentarily took her breath away.
"Hardly. I wish to bring you tidings from the family, give you their
regards, see how court life was treating you, and to tell you that
Matthew and I are separating."
"
What?
" This was even more of a surprise than the King's
revelation that he had decided to divorce his queen. "What has
happened? Can things not be mended between you for the sake of the
boys?"
Yet even as she said this, she immediately felt sorry for Matthew,
who had given this woman the best years of his life, only to be
tossed aside like a used rag that had outlived its usefulness.
"He decided we cannot go on living together as man and wife while he
does not support my cause. I wished him well, took the children and
left a fortnight ago."
"'Twas
his
idea?" she asked in surprise.
"Aye, but we both could see it coming. It got to be that the
marriage was in name only. We ceased sharing our bed months ago.
'Twas not a shock, believe me, when he finally sat me down and
requested that we separate."
A burst of relief pervaded the abrupt shock at the news. She shared
Matthew's long-awaited peace of mind.
"So where do you make your residence now?"
"Warwick Castle. Where else?"
"What about the lads? How are they taking this?"
"They are fine. They sensed something was amiss long ago. We both
explained that we cannot live together as man and wife any more, but
that does not diminish our love for them. They are with me, being
tutored as always and well protected."
Over-protected, she wanted to say. And forced into believing her
ideals like a pair of innocent puppies following after a ravening
she-wolf.
Topaz grimaced. "I know you are a hopeless romantic, but let's be
plain about the matter. There is no longer any reason for us to live
together, Amethyst. I have my heirs, and he refuses to support my
cause. He is no husband of mine."
"Are you divorcing?" she heard herself ask suddenly, and wondered
why the idea both shocked and pleased her.
Topaz shook her head. "Nay! I shall not allow that dishonor. I shall
retain the title, I brought him the dowry, I shall not let him off
that easily. It would be too traumatic for the lads. We shall remain
married, but in name only, and maintain separate establishments so
long as we both live."
Amethyst suddenly felt nervous and on edge. She knew immediately
that she would be hearing from Matthew any time now.
"Well, I hope you have done the right thing. What did you do with
your animals?"
"I'm having an addition built to the stables with a huge fireplace
and clean straw mats. They will all be coming to me as soon as it
can be arranged." She smoothed her skirts for a moment, then asked,
"So where does the King stand on his own great matter? Pray it was
much easier for me to rid myself of Matthew than it will ever be for
him to dispense with Catherine, banishment or no."
"She insists she was a virgin through her entire marriage to Arthur,
so that she and Arthur were never married and therefore there are no
grounds for an annulment nor a divorce on the grounds of
consanguinity."
Topaz threw her head back and laughed, her eyes crinkling in
delight. "How utterly typical of court knavery! How genuinely
amusing! In order to keep Henry within her clutches, Catherine
insists she was never married to Arthur, and Henry turns round and
insists he was never married to Catherine, because she was married
to Arthur! What a vicious circle indeed! The poor Pope must feel
like a right tennis ball during an endless volley! Catherine and
Henry each pleading their wretched cases before the Holy judgment of
Rome and just going around in circles! Well! Did Arthur leave his
young bride pure and untouched or not? That is one mystery that will
live unsolved through the ages—did she or didn't she?
"If I remember correctly Aunt Margaret's recollections, Arthur was a
frail lad indeed. Notwithstanding his bragging from the marriage bed
about having been 'six miles into Spain,' I tend to believe
Catherine. Sometimes the best of them are duds when it comes down to
the rigors of a command performance. Kings included!"
How many kings have you bedded?
she wanted to ask her smug
sister.
"So where does that leave them, then?" Topaz continued. "At an
impassible stalemate, like the king and queen on the proverbial
chessboard, stymied by a pawn. Who can ever prove whether Catherine
was a virgin during her marriage to Arthur? That truth has followed
him to his grave as it will follow Catherine."
"The King believes she is Arthur's widow, and on that belief is
appealing to the Pope for a divorce."
"And what odds does the court lay on his success?" Topaz asked, her
eyes glittering with malice.
Amethyst lifted her chin proudly, annoyed at having fallen into her
sister's trap so easily. "I know not; I do not engage in court
gossip. I do not even know why I am discussing this with you. Is
there nothing else you have to report, Topaz?"
"Well, yes there is..."
Here it comes.
"I was hoping you would return home to Warwick with me."
Although she was literally halfway out the door to return home to
Warwick, she now paused in her decision to go, recalling how she had
nearly died the last time she had been there and in her sister's
company.
"Whatever do you want me there for?"
Topaz shrugged one shoulder as if the matter were of little import.
"Court can be very corrupt and the King may act impetuously one day.
Just the way he is handling his marriage is a good indication of his
capricious character. I fear for your safety and would have you home
safely with us before his ever more changeable nature hurts you
irrevocably."
Amethyst glared at her sister. "Oh yes, I see. You've come here to
help me, have you?"
"Of course. It's what sisters do."
"You want to help yourself, more like," she retorted. "You want to
try to goad me into fighting for your cause again. I did what I
could to get the King to dig into the treasury to help your dejected
Whitechapel friends. But the King has got enormous expenses, such as
building the navy to guard against those relentless French and a
standing army to protect us against the Scots. Do you not have
enough support among Henry's enemies? Pray God he doesn't need
another one, least of all me."
"You are my sister and I am worried about you, here at court in such
a vulnerable position. I fear for what will happen to you, caught in
the middle like this. He may use you as a scapegoat once my cause
gets under way in earnest."
"And Lord knows I am worried about you! But Henry is not that man–"
"He is. He has ample cause."
"What cause?"
"The same reason his father killed our father! Does that hold any
more logic?"
"He is not his father, he is a kind and gentle king and I trust him!
He would not hurt me no matter what you did."