‘You are,’ he says shortly. ‘Agnes stays at court, and you retire. The king says he won’t have you causing trouble.’ He throws up his hand to stop me arguing. ‘I know! We know! These are Courtenay’s words in His Majesty’s mouth. But better for us all if you just go. We’ll get you back within weeks, and Courtenay will be sorry he put up a girl against us. Of course. But you’ve got to leave tonight. I’ve got your horse saddled and a guard ready to ride with you.’
‘But I did it for Anne!’ I protest. ‘For you! For the Boleyns! For the Howards! You can’t repay me by throwing the blame on me.’
‘We don’t blame you,’ he says quickly. ‘We love you as always. It’s just a setback. The Spanish party win this round: we’ll win the king back.’
‘I want to see the duke.’
‘He’ll be at dinner.’
‘I won’t go without seeing him.’
George sighs. ‘Don’t get upset. Go and change into your travelling clothes. I’ll ask His Grace to meet you in the stable-yard.’
Thomas Howard the Duke of Norfolk will intervene for me. He will invite me to stay at his great London house at Lambeth for a few days while it all blows over. He has as much influence as the Courtenays. He is my patron; I am under the shield of his name; he loves me. He trusted my word against his own wife.
I tumble my books and my jewel case into a little box. I tell the man at the door of our chambers to carry it down to the stable-yard and put it in the cart with the rest of my things; but this is packing for show: pretend goods into a pretend box, like a play. I am not really leaving. I change into my riding gown, and I pull on my hat and cape, and then I run down the stairs and into the stable-yard, where the Boleyn guard is mounted and waiting, and my horsesaddled and ready. I try to smile at my waiting maid. ‘We’re going nowhere,’ I tell her, and then Thomas Howard the Duke of Norfolk comes out of one of the doors from the king’s side of the palace, and I know I am safe.
‘You ordered Agnes Trent from court?’ he asks, with no preamble, his face more hawklike than ever.
‘As you told me.’
‘The girl went straight to Courtenay and complained of you, and he went to the king.’
‘But you will intervene for me,’ I say.
He shrugs; his black eyes are set deep, the eyelids drooping down. ‘Anne won’t defend you; your own husband doesn’t speak up for you. Why should I?’
‘Because I’ve worked for you since I was a girl!’ I exclaim. ‘You’re my patron! You’re promised to me – and I to you. Who will serve you when I’m gone? Who will be your eyes and ears in the queen’s rooms?’
He laughs with genuine amusement. ‘Oh, don’t you worry about that. There’s Mary Shelton, or my sister, or my daughter Mary; there’s half a dozen Howards in the queen’s rooms, and half a dozen more I could buy with pennies. But you – you’re too visible now – you’re of no use to me.’
‘You said you would protect me! You promised me...’ I am as shocked as a child.
‘You were my spy,’ he concedes. ‘And if you had been born in the sex of that handsome fool your husband, I would have made you into a great diplomat, an ambassador – far better than him. If you had the allure of your sister-in-law Anne, you’d have made a better queen than her – far better. But you’re just a very pretty, over-educated young woman, Jane. There’s nothing for you to do at court but quarrel with other pretty girls.’
‘You know it was not a quarrel! You know it was not pretty girls quarrelling!’
He turns away as if he is leaving. I have to make him turn back. ‘I know something about your half-brother Thom,’ I hiss. ‘He hasproposed to Margaret Douglas, the king’s niece. They say they will marry in secret.’
He pauses and nods. ‘Not much of a secret – I knew that.’
‘I know more,’ I gabble. ‘Something about Anne. Something serious!’
He waits.
‘The king isn’t potent with her! He’s lost desire.’
He is silent for a moment. ‘That’s a great secret – a grave secret, and it’s a disaster for Anne – but who can tell it? Anything that detracts from the majesty of the king is treason. You’re a traitor to even say it. I did not hear it. Go to the country, Jane, and study silence.’ He turns on his heel and leaves me, as if there is nothing more to be said, as if he will never speak to me again.
I am stunned. I let him go without a word of complaint.
The groom brings my horse, and George returns and silently helps me up the stone steps of the mounting block. He squeezes my hand in sympathy. ‘I’ll get you back as soon as I can.’
‘I’m no traitor!’
‘No, of course not. It’s just that you’re no use right now.’
‘I thought he would protect me?’
