Jane the Confidant Read online

  I saw an anxious expression cross the man’s face but ignored it as he bowed away to do my bidding. With a gesture I indicated that Charles should take a seat next to me.

  “I imagine you are famished,” I said. “You must partake in whatever this court now has to offer.”

  “Soon it will be much more,” Charles replied. “Prosperity will come when we are once again able to trade with the north and farms are allowed to produce food uninterrupted by armies.”

  I let the smile remain on my face as I told Charles of Queen Jane’s childbirth.

  “That is excellent news Your Majesty,” he said with a rough grin. “I know we are all anxious for her safe delivery.”

  “The men who arrived with Robert Aske, are they under guard?” I asked.

  “They are not,” Charles responded. “I did not wish for any suspicion to be aroused. However, the pages and guards around the castle have been told to report any wanderings to me.”

  When the last of my food was taken away I ordered a page to make for Jane’s rooms to see how she was faring. He returned to me as Charles, Edward Seymour and I were making our way to the chambers where we would meet with Aske.

  “Your Majesty,” the boy said, kneeling down in front of me, his head lowered. I took this to be a bad sign, excessive groveling only came with bad news.

  “Out with it,” I snapped.

  “Her Majesty Queen Jane’s delivery is not progressing as smoothly as first anticipated,” the lad spit out. “The midwives do not think the child will be born before morning. And they are worried about Queen Jane’s condition, she has become weak.”

  I felt as if the air had left my body as I staggered backwards. It was only Charles’ strong hand on my back that steadied me. Beside me, Jane’s brother Edward took a deep breath. We menfolk all knew what becoming weak during childbirth meant—death.

  But I could not worry about Jane right now. The end of the rebels was in sight. I only had to arrest the leaders who were now waiting for me as sitting ducks. And as with every husband’s sorrow, there was nothing I could do for Jane anyways.

  “Make sure her doctor keeps me updated regularly,” I finally said, my voice raspy. “I wish to know of any changes. Is the Lady Mary still with the Queen?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” the page answered. “The midwife says that Lady Mary has refused to leave Her Majesty’s side.”

  “Good,” I said. If anyone would make sure I remained informed about my wife’s condition, it would be my daughter.

  Taking a deep breath to steady myself, I turned and continued down the dank stone corridor, the few torches we were still permitted lighting the way. When we had reached the doorway, Charles’ hand shot out to stop me from entering. I looked at him, momentarily confused, but he beckoned forth a page boy who had been waiting with his head bowed in the shadows.

  “News?” Charles asked, his voice low.

  “All of the men except for Robert Aske remained in their rooms,” the boy whispered. “Sir Robert left for only a few moments, wandering among the corridors. When asked what he was looking for, he answered vaguely, but the page boys who served him his dinner believed he was looking to find Queen Jane. It appears he did not know she was in confinement.”

  I nodded; there had been no formal announcement about the imminent birth of another child to the royal nursery. I saw no reason to pronounce that the queen would be unable to travel or react to an uprising, and it seemed that my caution had helped us here.

  Charles glanced over to me before reaching into his purse.

  “Very good,” he whispered, slipping the boy a shilling.

  We rounded the corner as my herald announced our presence. The scrapping of wooden chairs across the stone floor could be heard as the men all still stood to greet their king.

  Murmurs of “Your Majesty” could be heard throughout the room as they bowed to me. Striding forward, I took the large ornate chair at the head of the table and sat, waving for Charles and Edward to do the same. Only then did I allow the men to rise from bended knee to take their own seats. Robert Aske began to speak at once.

  “Your Majesty, we are most pleased—“

  He was silenced by my look, clearing his throat and looking down to the papers before him. I let silence reign for a moment before speaking.

  “Sir Robert, before we proceed, might I ask why you were looking to speak with Her Majesty, Queen Jane?”

  Aske glanced around at his men before looking to my page boys who stood at their posts around the room, ready to serve. They stared straight ahead, refusing to meet his gaze. Finally he spoke.

  “I remember only that Her Majesty had been a great friend to me when I last visited court,” he replied. “I did not realize I would not be permitted to see her.”

  I glanced towards Charles, whose penetrating stare was on Aske. Finally he shook his head and I let the matter drop. There was no point in antagonizing Aske now.

  “Might we discuss your requests for peace?” Charles said, reaching out to take the paper with the rebel’s neatly written demands. I allowed my mind to wander away from the conversation as Charles and Edward distracted the rebel leaders with questions. Currently Lord Lisle should be leading the men of Calais closer towards the now leaderless rebel army. I hoped only that no word of battle would be brought to us.

  The talks had only been conducted for an hour when two page boys reached the doorway. My herald looked to both, then to me. Standing, I waited a moment for the rest of the room to rise, then turned to Charles.

  “Please continue, I shall return momentarily.”

  As I left the room I heard a small cry of outrage from one of the minor rebel leaders, a man who was quickly silenced by Aske.

  “Leave his Majesty to conduct business.”

  I stepped from the room into the empty hallway with both boys, my herald firmly closing the door behind me.

  “Report,” I said gesturing to the muddied one, the boy who had obviously come from Lord Lisle. The cleaner boy, much paler than his companion, stepped away.

  “Your Majesty, Lord Lisle has reached the encampment of the rebel army. He has not engaged them and does not believe that the men know he is present, nor how large of a force he contains.”

  “Very good,” I responded. “Report to Lord Lisle that our business will be concluded by the end of the day and he may then disperse the rebels to their homes. Tell him to remember that he may round up any that cause trouble, but that no executions should be made unless necessary.”

  The boy nodded and quickly turned, galloping away. I took a moment to listen through the door to Charles continued questions. Nodding, I turned to a guard in the hall.

  “Bring Constable Kingston and two dozen guardsmen,” I ordered. With a short nod the man strode off. William Kingston had been constable of the Tower of London for fifteen years and could be trusted; he would incarcerate the traitors and preside over their beheading without fail. Acts of Attainders had already been drawn up and awaited only my signature; the men could be executed before nightfall.

  “Now, speak,” I said to the waiting page boy, anxious for news of my queen.

  “Your Majesty, I wish to report on Queen Jane’s birth,” the page said, his voice trembling. It seems that waiting for me to conduct this other business had distressed the boy even more and he was now visibly shaking.

  “The Queen, how is the Queen?” I demanded, stepping closer to the boy. This did not seem to help his nerves. I resisted the urge to choke the boy, instead forcing myself to take a breath and step back. It was only after I had slightly calmed down that the boy spoke.

  “The Queen—the Queen has died Your Majesty.”

  I heard the words but did not understand. A loud humming filled my ears, a noise I had not heard since I was eleven years old and the same words had been spoken to me by my tutor, letting me know that my beloved mother had died. I staggered backwards into a guard who placed a hand upon my shoulder as another opened the door and called
for the Duke of Suffolk.

  “I am sorry, Your Majesty,” the boy said, before beginning to cry.

  Then Charles was there, his arm across my shoulder, ordering that the door once again be shut behind us.

  “Jane,” I managed to whisper.

  Taking in my pale face and the boy’s tears, Charles swore before leading me to a bench down the hall. He sat with me as I was leaning against him and motioned for the page boy to join us.

  “The child?” he asked, his gruff voice cutting through the humming.

  “Alive,” the boy said, his voice cracking. “A prince.”

  Charles nodded and gestured the boy away.

  “Henry,” he said softly, not allowing for anyone to hear. “Henry, you must come back. We have to finish this.”

  “Finish this?” I asked, my voice rough. “Finish this? The Queen is dead and all you can think of is Robert Aske?”

  “Your Majesty, there will be time to mourn,” Charles said, backing away from me slightly. I swayed and his arm came back to my side. “But now we must finish this so that Queen Jane can be laid out in peace and the kingdom will be safe for your sons.”

  I closed my eyes. The humming had started to fade and I forced the tears away from my eyes. Charles was right. Even now the sound of William Kingston and his men was growing louder; these rebels must be arrested and executed swiftly before their army could be alerted.

  When their footsteps stopped beside me I opened my eyes. Kingston, an older gentleman but strong, was standing peering at me with curious eyes. I stood and he dipped into a bow.

  “The men in the chamber are to be arrested,” I said, my voice clear. “They are to be taken to the Tower and shall be executed by nightfall.” I waved forward a boy who had been standing by, papers grasped in his young hands, and began to sign the Acts of Attainders. When I was finished, I handed the pages to Kingston who, with a sharp nod, ordered his men into the chamber.

  “Lord Stafford can oversee,” Charles said. Then it came to me, that Edward must be told. Charles saw my reaction and shook his head.

  “Lord Stafford can be told about his sister’s death when this is concluded,” he said, looking pointedly at the few page boys in the hall who knew of the queen’s death. They all nodded and Charles led me away, as the outraged cries of Aske and his men traveled out into the corridor.

  We had almost reached the end of the hallway when the sound of light footsteps came from the end of the hall. Charles turned and then stopped.

  “Lady Mary,” he said softly. I turned and looked at my older daughter, who was now flying down the hallway towards me, stopping only a few feet away to drop into a curtsey. Seeing her distraught face almost brought me to tears but I leaned against a wall, and motioned for her to rise.

  “Your Majesty, I must speak with you at once,” she said, glancing anxiously over her shoulder at the sound of Aske protesting his treatment loudly before the loud clang of metal meeting before one weapon was dropped to the ground. I trusted Kingston to keep the rebels in order and turned to my daughter.

  “I have heard of Her Majesty,” was all I managed before my voice gave out once again.

  “No,” Mary said. “That is not what I wish to speak of.” She looked behind her again as Aske was led into the corridor, still fighting the guards on either side of him.

  “We have been betrayed!” he cried, pushing himself into one guard and straining at me. “We have been lied to and deceived by this tyrant! Though we may be silenced, our cause will live on. The good men of England will not allow—“

  Aske was silenced by a blow to the head from Kingston. The two guards now struggled with the dead weight between them. With a sigh, Charles pulled me from the hallway before the rest of the men could appear, the Lady Mary hurrying after us.

  “I am sorry you had to see that,” Charles muttered to me as we turned the corner and entered a smaller unused room. I shook my head. Aske’s words had not penetrated deeply, I could not be concerned with the ravings of a dead man when Jane was gone.

  Charles pushed me onto the only seat in the room, the window seat along an alcove. The cold wind pushed against my back and I saw Mary shiver from the frigid room, bare of any tapestries or warmth. With a deep breath she dropped to her knees before me and took both of my hands in mine.

  “Your Majesty, I regret to inform you that Jane Seymour died giving birth to your son,” she began before biting her lip. Finally she looked up into my face, tears forming at her eyes.

  “Papa, I am so sorry,” she whispered. “I have done something wrong, but I am glad I did it so that I may tell you now.”

  My brow furrowed as I tried to determine what it could be that she felt was so important to tell me.

  “After the baby was delivered, the midwife saw clearly that the mother would not live. On her orders, Father Samuel, a man known to have sympathies with the Catholic Church, was brought forth. He administered the last rites to her and took her final confession before she died.”

  I shook my head, knowing that I should be angry at this last defiance from Jane, but it did not seem it could matter now.

  “No, Papa. Listen,” Mary implored as I made to stand. “I did not leave as I was supposed too. When the other ladies had gone, I stayed behind in the corridor and listened. I know it was wrong, but—“ Mary let the words hand in the air for a moment before turning back to me.

  “Papa, she admitted to the priest, in her last confession, that she had betrayed you by passing important information to Robert Aske, beloved leader of the Pilgrimage of Grace. Those being her words, and not mine.”

  The silence echoed forever, as the three of us became trapped by Jane’s confession. Her words pounded into my head, that it was Jane, my wife, who had been the spy. I felt anger swell inside of me, piercing the numbness that enclosed me during months of war and loss. Grasping the edges of the bench I felt the hot dizziness pass over me, my hands tightening as I heard Mary’s words again and again.

  Jane, my beloved Jane, had been the one to pass information to Robert Aske? I had considered everyone. I had executed Cromwell and pushed Charles away from me. I had lost the Duke of Norfolk to her lies and schemes. My head continued to spin and I leaned against the window, anxious for the dizziness to pass.

  It could have been minutes or hours later when Charles suddenly turned away and left the room, the great door slamming behind him.

  “You — you are certain?” I finally managed. Mary nodded and then pulled a letter out.

  “This afternoon, while the birth was happening, a letter was delivered for me. I read it after Queen Jane had died and knew that I could show this to you. It is from Robert Aske, asking if I could help his cause, that the woman he had inside the palace has been silent these past six weeks. He does not mention her by name, but it could help.”

  I took the letter from Mary and looked down to it. It was by Aske, his desperate scrawl across the page. I looked over the letter and Mary was correct, there was no definite proof of Jane’s guilt. And I knew I could not break Father Samuel; he would never reveal Jane’s last confession, he would most likely even deny that anything of the such took place.

  Taking Mary’s hands in mine, I raised her up and looked deep into her face, my anger at Jane seeping through.

  “Robert Aske and the rebel leaders have been arrested. They will be executed this afternoon. I know by showing me this letter you have absolved yourself of any guilt, shown me you will not conspire with these men. But know this. Their uprising ends tonight.”

  Mary paled but nodded.

  “The throne must remain secure at any cost,” she whispered. I squeezed her hands before having her help me stand. Together, the two of us exited the room and found Charles Brandon pacing on the other side.

  “Your Majesty —“ he began before biting off his words. “Your Majesty, forgive me for leaving—“

  I held up my hand and he became silent.

  “I could kill her myself,” I muttered before
my voice closed again, this time in anger. In the distance a page boy rounded a corner and fell into a deep bow. When it seemed that neither Charles nor I could move, Mary waved the boy forward and invited him to speak.

  “Your Majesty, Constable Kingston wishes to know when the beheadings should happen.”

  “Beheadings?” I barked out in a hysterical laugh. My breath began to come faster as I realized that I could not kill Jane, that if her death had not happened as it had, I would not even know what she had done.

  “There will be no beheadings,” I final said, turning on the boy who stepped back slightly. “Tell Kingston that the men will all be given a traitor’s death, that they are to be hanged, drawn, and quartered, I want their heads on the spikes of London by nightfall. And it is to be done at once!”

  The boy scampered away to do my bidding as Mary reached out to lay her hand on my arm.

  “Your Majesty, is that wise?” she asked. “Such a terrible death—“

  “For such a terrible crime,” I snapped, glaring at her. She immediately silenced, not willing to chance my anger. Finally I turned to Charles Brandon, who seemed able to once again speak.

  “Charles, you must ride out to join Lord Lisle and his men,” I ordered, the anger in my voice still evident.

  “To disperse the rebels,” he said with a nod. “As Your Majesty commands.”

  “No,” I said, my breathing becoming labored and my vision spotted as I thought of what Jane had done. The leaders of the rebel army were being destroyed and the great spy was dead. But still this was not enough.

  “No,” I repeated before looking Charles in the eye.

  “Ride down with Lord Lisle among the rebels and pick out every fifth rebel that you meet. I do not care of the age nor the gender of the person you encounter. March these rebels down to the hill and find the largest tree there. Every one of them must be given a traitor’s death.”

  “And those that are not chosen?” Charles’ asked.

  “Are to sign an act of loyalty and to watch their fellow rebels die.”

  My orders hung in the air for a moment as Charles narrowed his face and asked his final question.