“Have you let him see that you do not approve?”

“Not yet, but I fear I soon shall. I find it hard to deceive him. There was a time when he talked of other matters but this is never far from his mind and soon he will discover my true feelings.”

“Reginald…be careful.”

“I will try but I cannot dissemble forever. This could cost me my head.”

“No!”

“Remember I am in a vulnerable position already because of my birth. If I showed opposition to the King, my life would be worth very little.”

“Oh, it is cruel…cruel,” I cried.

“My dearest Princess, we have to face facts. I have asked his permission to go to Paris to study. I have deserted my books for so long.”

“You are going away,” I said blankly.

He took my hand and looked at me earnestly. “I will come back,” he said. “As soon as this miserable business is over, I shall be with you. We have much to talk of.”

He kissed me tenderly on the forehead.

“It is you, Princess,” he said, “whom I hate leaving.”

So he went and that added a gloom to the days.

“I persuaded him to go,” the Countess told me. “Life can be dangerous for those who do not agree with the King.”

I suppose we were all thinking of Cardinal Wolsey, who had so suddenly lost the King's favor and had died, some said, of a broken heart.

I heard that the King had sent orders to Reginald to get favorable opinions on the divorce from the universities of Paris. Poor Reginald! How he would be torn. I did not believe for one moment that he would obey the King. It was well that he was out of the country. Perhaps I should feel happier for that but it was so sad to lose him.

So we lived through those days. Often my mother was not with us but the Countess and I talked frequently of her and Reginald, and then it did not seem that they were so very far away.

The Countess told me that Reginald had such a distaste for the task the King had set him that he had written back asking to be released from it on the grounds that he lacked experience. But my father was certain of Reginald's powers and he sent Edward Fox out to help him. I was hurt when I heard that the answer the King wanted had come from Paris until I discovered that this had come through the intervention of François Premier who, as his sons were now released and he was married to Eleanora, was a free man.

Then the King sent for Reginald to return home.

He visited his mother immediately, which meant that he came to me.

We embraced. He looked less serene than he had when he went away. He was very perturbed by the situation.

“The King remains determined,” he said. “The more obstacles that are put in his way, the stronger is his desire to overcome them. It is now a battle between the power of the Church and that of the King. And the King has decided he will not be beaten by the Church. He will have his way no matter what the consequences. Instead of a battle for a woman, it is becoming one between Church and State.”

“And if this is so, it means that everyone will have to take sides. I know which side yours must be.”

He nodded. “I must defend the Church.”

“And now the King has sent for you.”

He nodded. “Do not fret,” he said. “I know how to take care of myself.”

I was delighted to have him home but I was worried about what would happen. I tried to console myself with the fact that the King had always been fond of him. Reginald was summoned to his presence.

The Countess was in a state of great anxiety; so were we all. We kept thinking of Wolsey's fate.

It seemed that, apart from the fact that the matter of the divorce remained in the same deadlock, everything else was changing…my father most of all. He was irascible and feared by all. He could suddenly turn on those who had been his best friends. The conflict obsessed him day and night. It was said that his hatred against the Pope was greater than his love for Anne Boleyn.

He guessed where Reginald's sympathies lay and, apart from his affection for him, he had a great respect for his learning. If he could get men like Reginald on his side, he would be happier. Moreover, Reginald was a Plantagenet. People remembered that.

He was still a layman, though he did intend to take Holy Orders later in life. People said afterward that he delayed doing this because he had it in his mind that a marriage might be possible between him and me. This might have been so but, layman as he was, the King offered him an alternative choice of the Archbishopric of York and that of Winchester.

This was a great honor, but Reginald knew it was an attempt to get his support. It was difficult for him to refuse it for fear of offending the King but, of course, he must.

He talked of this to his mother, and I was present.

He said, “This cannot go on. Sooner or later I shall have to tell the King that I cannot support him in this matter of the divorce.”

“Perhaps you should return to Paris,” suggested his mother. “Much as I hate to lose you, I have no peace while you are here.”

“I feel I should talk to him,” said Reginald.

“Talk to the King!”

“I believe I might make him see that he can find no happiness through this divorce.”

“You would never do that. He is determined to marry Anne Boleyn and how can he do that if there is no divorce?”

“I will go to him. I will appeal to his conscience.”

“His conscience!” said the Countess contemptuously.

“He refers to it constantly. Yes, I have made up my mind. I will go to him. I will ask for an audience. I know he will see me.”

What agonies we lived through when he left Newhall for the Court. The Countess and I sat together in silence imagining what would happen. We were terrified for him. I was glad my mother was not with us. I was sure she would have been deeply distressed.

When Reginald returned to us from York Place we hurried to meet him. He looked pale and strained. It had been a very uneasy meeting, he told us.

“I begged the King not to ruin his fame or destroy his soul by proceeding with the matter.”

“And what said he?” whispered the Countess.

Reginald was silent for a moment. Then he said slowly, “I thought he would kill me.”

I covered my face with my hand. Reginald smiled and laid a hand on my arm. “But he did not,” he said. “See. I am here to tell the tale.”

“He listened to you?” asked the Countess incredulously.

“No. Not after my first few sentences. He was very angry. He thought I had come to him with one of the suggestions such as he is getting from Cranmer and Cromwell. While I was talking, his hand went to his dagger. I thought he was going to plunge it into my heart without more ado. The King is a strange man. There are such contradictions in his nature. He can be so ruthless … and yet sentimental. He changes from one moment to another. That is why one sometimes believes what he says, however outrageous. One could accept that he wants this divorce solely because of his conscience. One believes that he really is worried about the fact that he married his brother's widow because when he says it he seems to believe it…sincerely. Then, the next minute one knows it is the desire for this woman. I do not understand him. I do not believe he understands himself. Just as he was about to lift his dagger and strike me, he seemed to remember that he was fond of me. He looked at me with rage… and sorrow.”

“And he let you go.”

Reginald nodded.

“He shouted at me, ‘You say you understand my scruples and you know how they should be dealt with.' It was like a reprieve. I said, ‘Yes, Your Majesty.' ‘Then set it down. Set it down,' he cried. ‘And let me see it when it is done. And go now …go… before I am tempted to do you an injury.' So I went, feeling deeply wounded and at the same time rejoicing that he was no longer in doubt as to my true feeling.”