Виктория Холт - The Lady in the Tower

I shrugged my shoulders. “That is just because I have favored him.”

“He has a romantic heart. He is Your Grace's slave.”

“Tell him when he returns that I want to know the reason for his absence.”

Mark did not return.

It was another of the women who gave me the news; and I began to feel a faint alarm.

“He was very proud yesterday, Madam. He had an invitation to dine.”

“To dine? With whom?”

“With Master Cromwell, Madam.”

I was astounded. The great Cromwell inviting a humble musician to dine!

What could it mean? Mark should have told me. I wanted to see George at once to tell him what had happened.

It was the first of May—two days after the disappearance of Mark Smeaton. He had not returned to the Court and I was full of misgiving.

But this was May Day—a very special occasion, a Court festival which had always been observed with a spectacular show of jousting.

I had not been able to talk to George or tell him of Mark's disappearance but I should see him today, for he would be one of the chief challengers in the tournament; and Norris was to lead the defenders.

I was still the Queen and must be at the ceremony beside the King, so I took my place in the loge. As Henry was coming into the tiltyard, I saw Cromwell approach him and for some time they were in close conversation.

Henry was frowning deeply, so I guessed it was not good news Cromwell was imparting. I wanted to speak to Cromwell, to ask him why he had invited Mark Smeaton to dinner, and why it was we had not seen Mark since.

Henry took his place beside me. I turned to smile at him but he did not meet my gaze; he was staring straight ahead, his mouth tight and as cruel as I had ever seen it; his eyes were cold but there was a hot color in his cheeks.

Even when the jousting began, he continued to glower and I guessed he was thinking of the days when he had been the champion. He was too corpulent now. He still rode and hunted, priding himself on the number of horses he could tire out; but he was aging fast. I knew his leg troubled him. The ulcer would not heal and it could be painful. If he had entered a joust, it would have been difficult for his challenger to stage a defeat for himself. Perhaps Henry knew that, and it was why he sat there glowering.

But there was something else which angered him.

I could not concentrate on the joust. I was wondering about Mark … and I wished I knew what Henry was thinking.

George performed with skill. So did Norris. They looked extremely handsome, both of them. The King watched them sourly. I was suddenly overwhelmed by the heat and the desire to get away. It was more than the rays of the sun; I was filled with a premonition that evil was hovering very near me.

I took out my handkerchief to wipe my brow. My hand trembled and it fluttered to the ground. Norris happened to be just below. He picked up the handkerchief on the point of his lance and held it out to me. I took it, smiling while Norris bowed.

The King was watching us. I turned to him. He looked as though he were about to choke.

I said: “Are you unwell?”

He did not answer. He stood up. There seemed to be a long silence, but it could have lasted for only a few seconds. Then abruptly he left the loge.

It was the signal for the jousting to end.

There was a certain amount of confusion—a kind of stunned silence. Then the voices broke out. No one knew what was wrong.

There was nothing for me to do but leave.

I went back to my apartments in Greenwich Palace.

The brooding silence continued…a silence full of meaning. The storm was about to break and I knew that I was at the heart of it.

Norris did not appear.

I sent for Madge. “Madge,” I said, “where is Norris?”

“I have not seen him since the joust.”

“It ended so suddenly.”

“The King was tired of it, they said.”

“He was irritated because he can no longer compete with men like Norris and my brother.”

Madge did not answer. I guessed she was thinking that I said the most dangerous things.

“And there is Mark. What can have happened to Mark?”

Madge shook her head.

“There are wild rumors,” she said.

“What rumors?”

“That Norris was arrested and taken to the Tower.”

“Norris! For what reason?”

“He had offended the King.”

“Surely not? The King is very fond of Norris. He was very close to him.”

“Perhaps it is merely rumors,” said Madge.

“How could such rumors come about?”

“They say it was when he was leaving the tiltyard. Norris was with the King. They were riding side by side. The King accused him of something… and then he called for his arrest.”

“I don't believe it. On what charge?”

Madge shook her head.

“But they say he is in the Tower.”

“What is going on?” I demanded. “Norris arrested! Mark missing! What does it mean?”

No one could be sure. Or perhaps they were afraid to tell me. Was there something they were holding back?

I wanted to talk to someone. Where was George? I sent someone to find him, but he was not to be found.

I dreaded the night. I knew I should not sleep.

How right I was! I lay in bed, turning from one side to the other, constantly asking myself: What does all this mean?

At length the long night was over. I rose. There seemed to be a silence everywhere. I fancied my attendants did not want to meet my eyes. They were all afraid of something.

In the early morning I had visitors. I was surprised to see members of the Council led by the Duke of Norfolk.

I rose as they entered my apartment, for they came unbidden and should have asked for an audience.

I demanded: “What are you doing here?”

“We are here on the King's business,” replied Norfolk.

“What business?”

“Your music man is a prisoner in the Tower.”

“Mark, a prisoner! He is only a simple boy. On what charge?”

“Of adultery.”

“Adultery! With whom?”

Norfolk looked at me, smiling. “With you, Madam.”

“Mark! A humble musician! What nonsense is this?”

“He has admitted it.”

“Oh, my God!” I cried. And I thought: Dining with Cromwell. For what purpose would Cromwell invite a mere musician to his house? To bribe him? No, Mark would never take bribes. If it were true that he had said that, they must have tortured him to make him do so. What implacable enemies I was up against. Poor Mark! His slender body… those delicate hands… What had happened to Mark? What would happen to me?

“How dare you make such vile accusations?” I demanded.

Norfolk used that favorite expression of his which had always irritated me. “Tut, tut, tut,” he said, as though I were a willful child. He added: “Norris is in the Tower… another of your lovers.”

“What wicked lies.”

“And now, Madam, we are come to conduct you to the Tower.”

“I will not go.”

“It is the order of the King.”

“I must see the King. I must speak to him.”

“His Grace does not wish to see you. It is his order that you are to be taken to the Tower.”

I felt suddenly calm. The blow had fallen. Perhaps I had been waiting for it for so long that it was almost a relief that it had come at last.

I was in the hands of ruthless men who would stop at nothing to get what they wanted… and the most ruthless of them all was my husband, the King.

Lies were being told about me. Had Smeaton spoken against me? If he had, his “confession” must have been wrung from him with the greatest cruelty. And Norris? Norris was an honorable gentleman. But could he withstand the rack?

I entered the barge, and I felt doom all about me. It seemed such a short time ago that I had come down the river in glory.