Chapter 30
Kat
Kat had seen Anna von Kleve just once since the wedding, and it had been a profoundly awkward experience.
What do you say to the ex-wife your husband cast aside, especially when you didn’t want to be married to him in the first place?
Kat had liked Anna during her time in the former queen’s service—the German woman was kind, for all that she had the most unfortunate taste in fashion.
Kat also thought Anna was cleverer than most people gave her credit for, even with that clunky accent.
Nevertheless, Kat was dreading her visit to Anna’s suite.
She’d put her predecessor off for as long as she could without being outright rude, hoping Anna would take the hint.
But Anna had persisted, and now Kat was heading into what she was sure would be a tedious hour of small talk and tight smiles.
Worse still, Anna had asked for a private audience, so there would be no one else to turn to for a conversational reprieve.
All Kat could hope for was that there would be wine, and plenty of it.
After saying farewell to her attendants, Kat knocked on Anna’s door and was ushered inside by Brigid something-or-other, the German girl who had been one of Anna’s ladies-in-waiting.
It was strange to think that Kat and Brigid had been equals once—when Anna was their queen—but now Kat was the one wearing the crown.
Their little triangle felt lopsided, and Kat didn’t know what to do when Brigid gave a deep curtsy and left her standing in the middle of Anna’s sitting room.
It was a lovely space, warm and cheery and decorated to suit Anna’s tastes.
But it was nothing like Kat’s chambers, which were grander than anything she could have ever dreamed back when she was at Lambeth.
Then, she had shared a room with one of her cousins, and though their grandmother made sure everyone was fed, clothed, and educated, the Howard household had always had an air of decline, like a decadent cake a few days past its prime.
Now Kat had chandeliers strung with jewels, tapestries that she had commissioned herself, and plush rugs that she could lie down and disappear into.
There were plenty of reasons she hated being queen, but the gold and the beautiful things it bought were not among them.
“Your Majesty, welcome.” Kat turned to the sound of Anna’s voice. “We are so grateful that you were able to spare some time to visit today.”
Was Kat remembering wrong, or had Anna’s accent all but vanished? And why was the queen flanked by two women Kat didn’t recognize? Weren’t they supposed to have a private tête-à-tête?
Anna seemed to catch her train of thought. “I know,” she said with a small, guilty smile. “It could be said that I lured you here under slightly false pretenses. But I hope you’ll forgive me, as we were only looking out for your best interests.”
Kat shook her head, trying to clear it. This was a very odd meeting indeed. “I’m sorry…I’m a bit confused. I have not made the acquaintance of these ladies, so I am not sure how they could be interested in me.”
Anna motioned for Kat to sit, which she did with a fair measure of reluctance. There was no wine in sight, and the blond woman on Anna’s right was staring at her, and not the way one would gawk at a queen. There was something familiar about her gaze, and far too bold.
“Kat, you’ve been quite the fool,” the blonde scolded. “Did you learn nothing from me?”
The young queen’s jaw dropped open. No one had spoken to her like that since…since she had left Lambeth, and certainly not since she had caught Henry’s eye. “Excuse me?”
“The glamour,” the older woman said, giving the blonde a nudge.
The blonde gave an irritated huff and closed her eyes. As she did, something strange began to happen. Kat couldn’t explain it, but somehow the woman’s appearance shifted. One moment, she had blond hair and sallow skin, and the next her hair was turning darker, her color returning…
It couldn’t be.
It was impossible.
Inconceivable.
Unnatural.
“Anne?” Kat croaked, shocked she could even make a sound.
Her beloved cousin—beheaded more than four years ago by the order of Kat’s own husband—smiled. “Hello, darling.”
And at those words, Katherine Howard fainted dead away.
Kat woke to the sharp scent of smelling salts. She was lying back against Anna’s sofa, and the former queen was sitting next to her, her expression apologetic.
“I am sorry, Your Majesty,” she said. “But there really was no way to warn you.”
The last few moments before Kat had fainted came rushing back, and she sat up to find Anne Boleyn seated in the chair across from her. At her back stood an older woman with gray hair and a high-necked gown. Kat peered at the woman, knowing she’d seen her face somewhere before.
“I’m dreaming, aren’t I?” Kat asked.
Anna laughed, but not unkindly. “I thought that too when I first met them.”
Kat searched her cousin’s features, wondering how this could all be real. “Anne? Is it really you?”
“Of course it’s me.” Her cousin smiled. “Do you think I would have let them kill me so easily?”
Kat didn’t think having your head chopped off in front of hundreds of people was “easy,” but the voice and the delivery sounded exactly like the cousin she remembered. She still hadn’t figured out why the older woman looked so familiar, though.
Anne followed her gaze. “Oh, if you’re wondering, she is Catalina de Aragón.”
Kat couldn’t help it; her jaw dropped again.
Anna tutted and took Kat’s hand. “You two are awfully bad at introductions,” she admonished. “Your Majesty, it’s all right. They did this very same thing to me, and I know exactly how you feel.”
Kat looked back and forth between the three of them. “You’re not about to bring Jane Seymour out from the other room, are you?”
Anne snorted and shook her head. Quickly, almost too fast for Kat to keep up, her cousin summarized the last few years, which seemed to involve a great deal of magick, travel, and women in league with an organization called the Hellebore Sisterhood.
She let the words wash over her, still stunned by the sudden reappearance of two dead queens, until Anne mentioned Thomas’s name.
“We know you’re having an affair with Thomas Culpeper,” Anne was saying. “The trouble is, we aren’t the only ones. Some of your ladies know, and a man named John Lassells does too.”
Kat’s mouth twisted into a frown. “I’ve taken care of him.”
Anne gave her a pitying look. “Actually, my dear, we took care of him.” Her hand went to her neck, where Kat saw smudges of dark purple against her skin.
“He’s likely off to Bedlam as we speak, but unfortunately, he shared his suspicions about Culpeper and a man named Francis Dereham with Archbishop Cranmer. ”
Kat blinked, certain she had misheard. “He did what?” Lassells was a nuisance, yes, but she never would have thought he’d dare to speak against her to anyone else.
She knew house arrest was only a temporary measure, but she’d been working up a plan to silence him…
with gold or something else, she hadn’t quite decided.
“We know who Culpeper is, but who is this Dereham?” The question came from the woman Anne had called Catalina.
Before she could think better of it, Kat was answering. “We lived together at Lambeth for a time. He was twice my age and a bit besotted with me.”
That was an understatement. Francis had planned to ask for her hand, but Kat had thought him too old and did her best to resist his persistent advances. In retrospect, marrying someone who was thirty-two may have been better than Henry’s forty-nine.
“My grandmother found out about our relationship and didn’t approve.
She sent Francis away and arranged for me to join the queen’s ladies-in-waiting.
I don’t think Francis ever forgave himself for not marrying me when he had the chance, nor for letting my grandmother separate us, especially once Henry decided I would be his next wife.
” At that, Kat couldn’t help but grimace.
Anna turned to her, and this time Kat was sure the German woman had no accent. “If the archbishop decided to speak with Francis about your relationship, what would he say?”
“Francis would never do anything to hurt me.” Kat knew this with certainty. “He was not happy that I wed another, but he wouldn’t help Cranmer ruin my reputation.”
“And did you sleep with him?” Catalina asked bluntly.
Though they never consummated their relationship, Francis had pushed further than the boundaries of good breeding would allow. Kat felt a blush rise in her cheeks. “Not exactly?” she replied, the last syllable turning up in a question.
Anne waved the words away. “It matters little. Now, it will be your word against Lassells’s and Cranmer’s, and we know how that goes.” The three other women exchanged tired glances. “We need to get you out of court immediately after the holiday.”
This was all too much, and Kat found herself shaking her head. “I can’t leave. I’m the queen of England.”
Anna von Kleve sighed. “We fear you won’t be for long.”
Kat massaged her temples, unable to comprehend how it had come to this.
She had thought she was so clever, that she knew exactly what to do and what to say to keep from meeting the same ends as her predecessors.
But love had shattered every one of her good intentions and wily plans, and now here she was, being talked to like a child who had broken a precious family heirloom.
Catalina—was it really Queen Catherine?—had started laying out a plan about a false pregnancy, a false death, an escape to the Continent…
a whole life that wasn’t Kat’s to live. Where did Thomas fit into all of this?
Not once had his name been mentioned. Where did her own happiness factor into these plans?
Kat felt frustration bubbling up inside her.
What did these women know? Hadn’t they all failed in one way or the other?
How could they assume that because she was young, she would do the same?
How dare they come to her under the guise of help, when really they were just making more choices for her and taking away what little joy she had to hold on to?
“No!”
Kat hadn’t meant to shout, but the word rang out, stunning everyone else into silence.
“What do you mean, no?” Anne asked, something that sounded an awful lot like sisterly concern in her voice.
But Anne had no right to that—she’d been alive all this time and had never once reached out to Kat.
Their relationship had ended with Anne’s death, and even though Kat had adored her older cousin, she wasn’t going to give up Thomas just because Anne was worried.
“I’m not leaving Thomas,” Kat said, aware that she sounded petulant instead of righteous. “I love him.”
Catalina muttered something under her breath, and even Anne rolled her eyes. Only Anna gave Kat a sympathetic glance.
“We do not have time or reason to keep the two of you together,” Catalina said brusquely. “If you want to stay alive, you’ll listen to what we say.”
“And if you’re so sure I’m about to be put on trial for adultery, then you know what will happen to Thomas.” Kat’s entire heart clenched at the thought. “He’ll be killed. Tortured, probably. But that doesn’t seem to matter to any of you.”
Her cousin gave a half-hearted shrug. “He is not our concern. You are.”
Kat lurched forward, her temper blazing, but Anna held up a hand.
“Now, wait a moment. Surely we can think of something. It wouldn’t be hard to get him summoned away from court, perhaps for some sort of family matter.
It could be done before you go so we don’t attract any suspicion.
” She looked back and forth between Anne and Catalina.
“Kat is right about Thomas’s fate. We can’t leave him to the executioner simply because he is a man. ”
“A good man,” Kat added hotly. “A good man who would do anything for me.”
Anne arched a brow. “Yes, good enough to sleep with a married woman—a queen—and put her honor and her life in jeopardy.”
Kat wished she had a retort for that, but she found herself glowering at her cousin instead.
“Fine,” Anne relented. “We’ll figure out what to do with your lover.”
“You swear it?” Kat asked. “You swear on your life you’ll keep Thomas safe?”
“I’ll do everything I can,” she promised.
“But, Kat, this is serious. You don’t seem to grasp the danger you’re in.
I wasn’t having an affair with any of the men Henry accused, and they all ended up dead.
I nearly did too. You are involved, which means there is proof, proof beyond John Lassells.
We can’t cover it up or contain it. We can only get you out.
This is the end of your reign. After Christmas, you’ll make your announcement and you’ll be gone. ”
Kat leaned back against the pillows. How had this day—this week—taken such a sharp turn?
She’d returned to the palace ready to play the role of the dutiful queen, all the while knowing her real life waited once she was out of Henry’s sight.
Now, if she was lucky, she would just barely be able to stay alive.
To think, she’d just been daydreaming about running away with Thomas on some grand, romantic adventure. This was not that…not even close.
“Fine. I agree,” Kat said at last. “What do I need to do?”