If I had been a clever person, I should have seen it approaching long before it reached me. But I had never been shrewd and was particularly gullible. Simple myself, I judged others to be the same. I had not realized how I was watched and despised because I was unfit to fill the role which had been thrust upon me. People do not like to see those whom they consider below them raised above them; and they seek to bring the offender down. They were angry because of the King’s besotted devotion to this foolish girl, just because she had a pretty face, a seductive body and a sensual nature. Power-hungry men felt she might have some influence, which her ambitious relations might use to their advantage. And carefree, ignorant and unworldly as I was, I did not know that they were watching me, waiting for an opportunity to destroy me.
The Protestant faction, comprised of men like Cranmer and the King’s brother-in-law, Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertford, were suspicious of the Catholic Howards. As for my uncle, he might have warned me, helped me, at least prepared me in some way, but he had abandoned me as being too foolish to be of any use, and so he had ignored me. And thus I was left to those who would destroy me.
In my very household were Joan Bulmer and Katherine Tylney, and both were fully aware of my relationship with Francis Derham. How foolish I had been to allow them in. When I had been confronted by those men, I had realized at once what would happen to me, and the shock was so great that, as Jane said, it had almost robbed me of my reason; and it is only at this stage, by piecing together what I have heard and experienced, that I can see how it was all brought to a head, to that terrifying moment when they had all come to tell me of my fate.
It had started through John Lassells, who was the brother of Mary Lassells, one of the women who was with me in my grandmother’s house at Lambeth. She, like so many others, knew what had happened between Francis Derham and me.
John Lassells had some minor post at Court. He was a stern Protestant, a puritan, one of those men who are bent on preserving a place for themselves in Heaven and are certain that they are one of the few who know the way to achieve it. They are determined not to enjoy life and, even more so, that no one else shall.
His sister, Mary, needed to work, and he asked her why did she not try for a place at Court. Had she not once been acquainted with me when I was in a far less exalted position—just a young girl in the care of my grandmother?
Mary, in a state of great virtue, explained that nothing would induce her to take a place in my service. In fact, she was very sorry for me. Naturally her brother wished to know why.
“Because she is light in her behavior,” was Mary’s reply.
Such an accusation needed explanation, and John demanded one. I felt sure that Mary gave it with relish. She told her brother that Francis Derham had declared we were as good as married and behaved accordingly. Moreover, she added, Henry Manox had boasted that he knew of a private mark on my body.
The righteous John Lassells would have immediately persuaded himself that this knowledge must not remain solely in the Lassells’ household, and he went to his priest and told him what he had heard. The priest immediately communicated the information to Audley and Hertford. This must have seemed a heaven-sent opportunity to these men, who decided to lay the information before Archbishop Cranmer, with the suggestion that he should be the one to pass it on to the King.
As a result, John Lassells was brought to the Archbishop and a paper was produced and presented to the King for his private reading.
I tried to imagine what Henry would have said when he received this incriminating document. I believed it was true that he had been deeply shocked and refused to believe it, and that he had berated the Archbishop for daring to write such slander against his Queen. I believed he would, in his love for me, have accused the Archbishop of listening to the evil slander of rogues.
But, of course, doubts would beset him. It was only natural that they should. He might recall that I was no shrinking bride. I had thought then that my ready responses had surprised him, even though he was delighted with them. He must have convinced himself that they were due to my admiration for the glorious personage who had become my husband. After all, I had been raised up from a very lowly position.
So, when he read that account of my past, brought to him through the courtesy of the Archbishop and John and Mary Lassells, he might not believe it, but he would have to make sure.
I could see clearly how it had happened. He had ordered that John and Mary Lassells be held in London, and Sir Thomas Wriothesley be sent to question me.
Almost immediately, Derham was arrested, not in connection with me, but on a charge of piracy committed in Ireland. I suppose there were grounds for this, and I wondered whether the fortune of which he had talked so much was to be acquired in this way.
At this time, I was in a sorry state. I was kept confined to my apartments where I alternated between fits of terror and anguish and moods of optimism. These last were very brief, for I could not really believe in them. I had been very indiscreet with Derham, but that was before my marriage. That was not really criminal, was it? I had deceived no one. Most of the women knew what was happening.
I tried to shut out of my mind all thoughts about Thomas. Thomas must never be mentioned. It must seem as though I knew him only as some vague figure in the King’s household.
If only I could get to the King, talk to him! I promised myself that I would find some way of doing this. I would explain to him those misdemeanors of the days before I had married him. I would remind him how young I had been. I would explain how I had wanted to confess everything right from the beginning.
I saw very little of my ladies with the exception of Jane Rochford. She kept me from sinking into utter melancholy.
I was afraid to sleep, for sometimes dreams could be more frightening than reality. When I was awake I could persuade myself that the King would come to see me soon. I could imagine myself sitting on his knee, cajoling. I believed he must be hating this situation as much as I was. He would want to return to those comforting pleasures of the old days. I would force myself to picture the reconciliation. I would plan what I would say. I would delude myself into believing that it was real. And then I would see the utter absurdity of it and be plunged into despair.
Jane told me what had happened to my grandmother, which added to my misery.
“Poor lady! It all happened under her roof. They have visited her.”
“Who?”
“Those who came to you—the Duke, her stepson, among them. She knew they would come. Derham had left some coffers in her house and she was afraid they might find in them something concerning you … letters or goods. She had the coffers opened. That is against her. And there was Damport. Do you remember Damport?”
“No.”
“He was a close friend of Derham’s.”
“Was he the young man with the beautiful teeth?”
“That is he.” Everyone knew Damport by his teeth. He was very proud of them and he smiled perpetually so that everyone could see them.
“Yes, I do remember now. I have seen him with Derham.”
“The Duchess gave him money.”
“Why?”
“Mayhap because she thought he might tell something which Derham had confided in him.”
“Tell me what you know about my grandmother.”
“It is only a rumor, but everyone is talking of it. They are amazed that the Duke should work against his own family. Some say he aims to show the King that he is his most loyal servant … even if it means working against his own flesh and blood.”