The Sixth Wife_ The Story of Katherine P - By Jean Plaidy Page 0,40
friend Simons, the lawyer who had been a great help in the affair of the men of Windsor.
“A difficulty presents itself here,” said the wily lawyer. “We need evidence, and we have not the King’s permission to search the royal apartments.”
Dr. London confessed himself to be in a quandary. These people he had selected, he knew, had interested themselves in the New Learning, but how could he prove it?
He was disturbed, but, remembering the methods he and his master Cromwell had used during the dissolution of the monasteries, he decided on a plan of action. After all, had not the Bishop of Winchester something like this in mind when he had selected the experienced Dr. London for this task?
“It would be necessary,” said Simons, “for us to find men who would testify against them. That would not be easy.”
“We have not been given enough power,” said Dr. London. “Did not the three men who have recently been burned at the stake mention the names of these people?”
Simons looked at the Doctor sharply.
“That was not so, Doctor.”
“An oversight. Doubtless had we tried to extract these names from them we should have done so.”
“But we did not.”
“There was written evidence of what these men said during examination, was there not?”
“There was.”
“And where are these documents?”
“In the hands of the clerk of the court.”
“A man named Ockham. I know him well. He should be easy to handle.”
“What do you propose, Doctor?”
“My good man, the evidence is not there because of an oversight. It is always possible to remedy such oversights.”
“Do you mean to… forge evidence…to insert something those men did not say concerning and implicating these men and women?”
“Hush,” said the Doctor. “You speak too freely.”
“But that… would be criminal.”
“My dear lawyer, when the Bishop of Winchester asks for victims, he must have them.”
“You wish me to see…Ockham?”
“I will see the fellow.” The Doctor laid his hand on Simons’ shoulder. “Do not tremble, man. This is the task which has been set us. Success is expected of us; never doubt that we shall achieve it.”
THE QUEEN SAT in her apartment with a few of her ladies. They were working at their tapestry, but the Queen’s thoughts were far away.
On a stool beside her sat little Jane Grey. The child attracted Katharine. She was so small and so beautiful. She was only six years old, but she was wise enough for eleven; she was also clever with her needle, and most happy to be beside the Queen.
Little Jane believed that one day she might be a Queen. Edward had whispered to her that he would ask if she might be his, when he was of an age to ask. They wanted to marry him, he believed, to his cousin, young Mary of Scotland, but he was not sure, because such a matter as the choice of his wife would not be mentioned to him just yet. He had heard too that Mary had been promised to the King of France, and that his father was very angry about that. “But I am not, Jane,” he had said, “and you know why.”
They had smiled and nodded because they understood each other so well.
So Jane, who might one day be a Queen of England, liked to study the ways of the present Queen, and she found that study of great interest to her. She knew when the Queen was frightened as she was today, although she did not know the cause of her fear.
The tapestry was beautiful. In the center was a medallion about which flowers were being worked in gold and scarlet, blue and green silks. At each corner was a dragon with crimson fire coming from its mouth; and it was on one of these dragons that Jane herself was working.
It is a sad thing, I verily believe, to be a Queen, pondered Jane as she stitched at her dragon.
It was also a sad thing to be a King—a little King. It was all very well when you were mighty and all-powerful as was the King himself. It was when you were a little boy who was unsure of himself, as all young people must be, that it was alarming. It was only when they were in the apartments with Mrs. Sybil Penn that they were really unafraid. Mrs. Penn refused to look upon the Prince as the future King; he was her little one, she always said; and she would rock him on her knee and bathe his skin and croon over him;