Betrayal in the Tudor Court. Darcey Bonnette

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      Mirabella was found in the chapel or praying before her priedieu. Her interactions with the rest of the family were limited and she saw Lady Grace as little as possible. But Mirabella still confided in Father Alec and he listened, trying his best to soothe her anger with urgings that she forgive and find peace in God. The ritual of her prayer and incantations became as much her escape as wine was Grace’s. Father Alec did not know if this was a good thing. He had always fancied that the true calling to God should be taken up with a peaceful heart, not one filled with the acute desire to avoid reality. But then he could not judge Mirabella. His reasons for entering the priesthood had been no better.

      The glimpses of hope and indeed the only place from which a measure of sanity prevailed came from Cecily and Brey, whose light seemed so misplaced in this dark place. Yet there it was, white, shining, emitted like rays of sunshine bursting through the clouds in their giggles and plots and shrill, happy voices. Bosom companions, Cecily and Brey collected animals and insects together, making the nursery a veritable menagerie. No one stopped them, and if anyone dared, Father Alec would have had their head. The children would be allowed their happiness and Father Alec thanked God they found it in each other. Cecily emanated joy; it came natural to her. She was by no means simpleminded. Her wise eyes could be seen making their observations and Father Alec wondered what went on behind them. What conclusions had she drawn about this place so tinged by tragedy? She did not reveal them. Instead she smiled her sweet smile, she laughed her infectious, lilting laugh, and pressed on, always inventing new ways to spread cheer.

      Father Alec continued to pray for her and Brey, hoping nothing would invade the world Cecily so lovingly created.

      For his part, he kept them busy. They took many of their lessons out of doors during the warm months. He utilised anything he could think of to tie in his lessons with the wonders of nature. Instead of studying astronomy in the stuffy library, they spread blankets out in the garden and looked up at the dazzling array of sparkling stars littering the night sky. The children snuggled against him as they pointed out each of the constellations and discussed navigation, astrology, and the myths from which the constellations derived their names.

      Father Alec loved to discuss military history and reenacted battles with toy soldiers. This became a favourite sport of Brey’s and together they spent many hours fashioning their soldiers and kings out of wood, painting them, and reliving the battles of old just as Father Alec described them.

      The children learned of flora and faunae by taking long walks through the forest. Father Alec taught them about herbs and mushrooms with medicinal properties, in which Cecily took great interest.

      With them the knot in his heart eased. They were the hope of this broken household. With love and guidance, they could still prevail to be productive, successful individuals.

      What’s more, and what was most important to Father Alec, they could be happy.

      “The king has broken from Rome!” Lord Hal cried one evening as he burst into the solar where Father Alec had been engaging Mirabella in a game of chess while Brey and Cecily drew purposefully unflattering pictures of the servants.

      Mirabella rose. “No!”

      Lord Hal nodded, his handsome face ruddy from riding. “King Henry has been named Supreme Head of the Church of England by Parliament. It is because of the Boleyn woman, of course. It is almost certain he will marry her.”

      “But the Pope—” Father Alec began, rendered breathless at the prospect. He was more than interested in the whole affair. The king’s will intrigued him. He seemed so intoxicated by this Anne Boleyn that he would rearrange the world for her. Father Alec could not imagine the power she must have over him. He wondered after her beauty. She must be in possession of something extraordinary for the king to be so taken with her. Father Alec had heard she held the New Learning in high esteem and for this he admired her. He wondered what influence that had on His Majesty’s startling decision.

      Lord Hal shook his head. “Is no more, not for England, anyway.”

      Father Alec could not imagine it. But others had broken away, though not on such large scale. It was interesting. “This could create a great deal of strife. Catholics loyal to His Holiness will never abide it.” He wondered if he could abide it. He was alarmed at how unperturbed he was by the news. But what did he know of the Pope? Was he not as corrupt as every other church official jealously guarding his ill-gotten gains? Yet was he not God’s representative on earth? Wasn’t the king? What an opportunity this could be! Imagine the possibilities of reform he could be bringing! Imagine the new age of thought he could be ushering in, an age where simplicity replaced extravagance, an age where priests could not be bought, an age of humility and true devotion to God, not under the grandeur and illusion the Church provided. It did not have to be Lutheran per se but something different, something tailored for English people and English needs. … Oh, bless this King Henry!

      Father Alec tried to rein in his enthusiasm as he speculated, focusing on the reactions of the room.

      “Oh, Father,” Mirabella interposed, addressing Lord Hal. “What is going to happen to poor Queen Catherine?”

      “No one is sure yet, lamb,” Lord Hal told her. “I suppose all we can do is wait it out.”

      “Oh, that Boleyn woman!” Mirabella cried, narrowing her eyes. “I have heard the names they have called her—all fitting, it seems! For her to corrupt His Majesty this way … she is an abomination!”

      “Whatever she is or isn’t, Mirabella, we are the king’s subjects, you must remember,” said Lord Hal. “And we are beholden to him. He is not one to tolerate differences in opinion.”

      “So we accept it? The displacement of an anointed queen and a split with the Holy Father?” Mirabella asked, eyes wide, incredulous.

      Her father nodded. “Yes, Mirabella. Whatever the king’s pleasure. If we want to keep our place, if we want to keep our heads, we keep silent.”

      “But you cannot think this is right!” she cried, appalled.

      Lord Hal shook his head again, running a hand through his dark hair. “I am not one to judge what is right, Mirabella.”

      “Your father is wise,” Father Alec said. “None of us can know God’s will. There could be a message in this for us, a sign that things are meant to change—”

      “But to break with His Holiness, Father Alec?” she cried, scandalised. “Let alone the notion of divorce!”

      Father Alec pursed his lips. “You know that as a priest I do not support divorce in most cases. However, the king is far from most cases. He needs a legitimate male heir to succeed him and unfortunately the queen has not been able to provide that. In matters of state, my child, sometimes exceptions have to be made. I do not condone it, but to a degree I can understand its need for the stability of the realm. And as your father said, it is not for us to judge.” He paused. “Regarding the situation with the Holy Father …” He drew in a breath. “I must pray on that.”

      “Oh, Father …” Mirabella’s eyes were lit with disillusionment as she regarded him, causing his heart to lurch in unexpected regret.

      But he could not change his opinion. Ever since his tour of Europe, observing the change and the excitement the New Learning was bringing, he knew he could support the king’s split with the Pope. Likewise, he understood the king’s Great Matter. And he felt he understood humanity. He was no fool. He knew it was not all about the succession. But he could not explain matters of lust to СКАЧАТЬ