Chapter 15 #2
‘I shall go to the Tower myself, directly,’ she told Rose, ‘and see what may be done. At the very least I may take Bridget some clean clothing and food and money.’ She caught Rose’s hands in a gesture of appeal.
‘You must surely think it worth a try, Rose, for why else would you summon me from Berkshire? We must do what we can to help Bridget.’
‘You are right, of course.’ Rose did not return the grasp of her hands nor meet her gaze. ‘You must go.’ With a certain ill grace, she provided Marris with a basket of food and some clean linen for Bridget.
‘This is all I have,’ she said. ‘Godspeed, sister, and good luck.’
Marris took a boat east along the Thames.
The chill of the day seemed to have intensified, the wind off the river cutting through her thick cloak and gown.
Marris shivered as they approached the Tower, squatting like an implacable beast on the northern bank.
Passing the yawning maw of the water gate, she closed her eyes briefly on a prayer.
She had no idea of what she might do to help Bridget, but at least she had some money to make her imprisonment more comfortable.
She felt sick, helpless and alone, but told herself that if she was afraid, Bridget would be terrified.
It took a short conversation and two gold crowns to gain her access to Bridget’s cell. Marris followed the warder up a worn flight of stairs where the light grew progressively dimmer and the walls damper. Now the cold settled deep in her bones.
Bridget was huddled in a corner of her cell, curled up like a baby. She looked so small and slight, all poise, glitter and court arrogance gone. When Marris entered, she raised a tear-stained face, then huddled up all the tighter, sobbing.
‘You should not have come here,’ she said.
The door clanged shut behind Marris, the heavy wood and iron shuddering. Marris shuddered too, already feeling sick in the noxious air of the small room. She crossed to where her sister sat and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.
‘I would never leave you to face this alone, Bridget. You must know that. You shall soon be out of this place.’
A shake of the head was all the reply she got.
Bridget’s beautiful red hair lay matted and greasy against her skull, and her face was white as snow except for a dark welt on her forehead where it looked as though someone had hit her.
The fury rose in Marris but she tried to tamp it down for she knew it would do no good.
There was no recourse to justice here, no one to complain to, nothing to be done.
Bridget was only nineteen, little more than a child, and she looked painfully young now.
‘Bridget…’ She was down on her knees now, beside her sister. ‘Speak to me. Are you hurt? What can I do to help you?’
But Bridget only sobbed the harder, grabbing Marris’s hands in her own and holding on so tightly Marris felt her nails score her palms. Leaning closer, Marris heard her whisper: ‘This is not about me. It is you they want. This is a trap.’
Marris sat back on her heels. ‘I don’t understand,’ she said. ‘Rose told me that you had been arrested because of Queen Catherine’s infidelity to the King. She said that all the Queen’s women were being interrogated.’
Bridget raised her head, pushing back the strands of hair from her wet cheeks. Her eyes were haunted.
‘It is true that it began with Queen Catherine’s arrest,’ she said.
‘We have all been questioned. I knew nothing and could not help them…’ She touched the bruising on her forehead.
‘I think it angered them.’ She shivered.
‘But then they came up with a different scheme. I heard them speaking of a charge laid against the Lady Anna of Cleves, that she had borne a son in secret.’ Bridget grabbed Marris’s hands again.
‘It was our sister Rose who laid the charge against her, Marris, after she had visited Bletchingley! I heard them whispering that she had said they should use me to bait a trap to draw you here to the Tower so that they might question you. You have been brought here to give an account of what you know and to be charged with misprision of treason.’
Icy-cold shock shot through Marris’s veins. She opened her mouth to reply, but saw a warning in Bridget’s infinitesimal shake of the head. Her sister’s gaze slid over her shoulder and it was then that Marris realised that the door had opened, this time silently, with no betraying squeak of hinges.
‘Ah, Lady Sharington.’ She recognised that cultured voice as belonging to Thomas Audley, the Lord Chancellor, a man whose determination to achieve the outcome he wanted was only ever matched by the slipperiness of his character.
He crossed the stone floor and extended a hand to Marris to help her rise.
‘Your sister, Mistress North, has explained the matter most succinctly.’ His smile only served to solidify the ice within Marris’s blood.
‘As she said, Lady Stent has advised us on a particularly troubling matter relating to the King’s beloved sister, Lady Anna of Cleves.
We are hoping that you will be able to assist us.
’ He gestured to Bridget, who was watching him as one might watch a snake.
‘Mistress North’s future may well depend upon it.
’ He stepped aside to gesture Marris to precede him through the door. ‘Shall we?’
* * *
‘Misprision of treason is a very serious matter, Lady Sharington. Do you know what it means?’ The Lord Chancellor, seated behind a mountainous desk that was littered with papers, steepled his hands and regarded Marris with a sorrowful gaze.
She had been neither shackled nor imprisoned; the office was warm and comfortable, she had a glass of wine on the table beside her and was seated in a comfortable chair, and the gentle treatment scared her more than any barbarity might have done.
She was still trying to assimilate what Bridget had told her – that Anna was being investigated over the secret birth of a son and that it was Rose who had laid the charge, Rose who had lured her to London under the pretence of concern for Bridget, Rose who had betrayed them both.
‘I have no notion what misprision of treason means, my lord,’ Marris said, ‘nor why I should stand accused of it, if that is what I am.’ She spread her hands wide. ‘I came to the Tower believing my sister, Mistress North, to be in trouble. Have I misunderstood?’
Audley smiled his predator’s smile. ‘It is indeed bad timing, or perhaps bad judgement, that you both stand accused of the same crime for different reasons,’ he said smoothly.
‘However, I am glad to reassure you that our investigations into Mistress North are now concluded; we are satisfied that she was unaware of Queen Katherine’s crimes and will be released in due course. ’
Marris felt almost dizzy with relief. ‘Thank you, my lord. That is a great joy to me.’
‘Unless, of course,’ Audley continued, ‘you fail to answer my questions to my satisfaction. In such a situation I may find it necessary to charge both you and Mistress North with treason.’
Marris’s relief turned swiftly to despair. So, there was a price on Bridget’s freedom and she was the one who had to pay it with information. Of course there would be. Audley would not grant favours without appropriate remuneration.
She swallowed the nausea that rose in her throat. She had to keep calm; keep a clear and cool head. Not by a single word would she betray herself or Bridget – or Anna.
When she said nothing, Audley sighed, toying thoughtfully with the hourglass on his desk, turning it over and over in his hands. Marris could tell that he was preparing to increase the pressure.
‘You are a former nun, I believe,’ he said slowly. ‘A prioress, no less. You have risen far, Lady Sharington, first as lady in waiting to the King’s sister and now as the wife of a noble knight, although…’ He paused. ‘Are you sure that your marriage is legal? The Church may believe it is not.’
‘It was the King himself, as head of the Church, who granted us his permission,’ Marris said.
Her heart was hammering. First, the Lord Chancellor had threatened Bridget and now he was attacking her own position.
He was implying that he could reverse the legality of her marriage, branding her William’s whore, not his wife, which would make their children bastards.
She rested a hand on her stomach and felt the child kick strongly.
It did not like this any more than she did.
‘Well, the King may discover that a different interpretation of the theology may lead to another conclusion,’ the Lord Chancellor murmured. ‘We shall have to see.’
‘My husband would surely have a say in such a matter,’ Marris pointed out.
‘Ah, well…’ Audley shuffled some papers randomly before letting them fall softly back on the desk.
‘Sir William is a practical man, loyal to his monarch. The prospect of a second unimpeachably legal and no doubt rich marriage might persuade him to put you aside, madam.’ He smiled again, baring his teeth.
‘He is not here to support you, is he? They told you that he was away from London on the King’s business, I imagine?
’ He saw her stricken face and smiled again.
‘That may be true – far be it from me to question it. But perhaps Sir William has already seen the way the wind is blowing and thinks to cut his losses now?’
‘I doubt that,’ Marris snapped coldly. She would not believe that Will would desert her, no matter how this evil man sought to undermine her trust with his barbs.
She could see how frail her position was, though.
Alone, in the Tower of London, both her own and Bridget’s future apparently resting on the need to tell the Lord Chancellor what he wanted to hear.