Chapter Thirty - The Trial
Syon Abbey
January 1542
I am almost unrecognisable now.
The youthful, hopeful and energetic girl that I once was is lost, and in her place stands a disgraced, nervous woman. Over time they will say that I was foolish in my actions, that my doomed fate was nothing but my own doing. But I do not feel that way: even though I have made my own choices in life, often there was only one option presented to me. And yet, when the time has come for the truth, those who are responsible have once again disappeared and I am left alone.
"You admit, in front of this court, that you have committed adultery on His Majesty?"
They are questioning me, only I do not recognise many of them. The Seymour brothers are somewhere in the room, as is Chancellor Rich and Bishop Gardiner, but I cannot see them and even if I could they would bring me no help. Bishop Gardiner's fleeting sympathy for me was for nothing more than that my family has shown loyalty to Catholicism over these past years; now he too is silent. There is no point in lying: I have already admitted to the offences, this is simply for official records.
"Yes, I admit so."
Whoever they are, they do not care for me in any way. Sympathy, empathy and mercy are words foreign to them, lost in translation in their minds through years of ambition and ruthlessness. Unfortunately, this is what Henry VIII's court is made of - factions vying for glory. And Henry loves it.
"Once again, Miss Howard, for our records. You are admitting that you are an adulterer?"
"I am."
They arrived early this morning, not long after dawn and with little warning. A group of councillors and lawyers, nameless, here simply to get an official confession. They think by setting up a makeshift court in the Abbey that they are doing justice, but they are not. I have been deceived, used by others, if justice really did exist then they would arrest those who sent me to court in the first place. It would not be me on trial.
"You also admit, Miss Howard, that you were not a virgin when you married the King?"
"Yes. But it was not as you may think -"
"Please, Miss Howard, there is no time for idle talk."
Just like that they dismissed me. They would not hear my side of the story, and now the records will only show a simple confession of guilt, not the truth behind it. I wanted to explain that I had thought of Francis Dereham as my husband, that we had made a promise that we would marry, a contract of love. Therefore, in loving him I had not knowingly done any wrong. But then he went abroad for a while, and I was sent to court by my uncle. How was I to know that I would not see him again? How was I to know that I would be told to seduce the King? It is so very unfair that they will not hear my side of the story, and now I am damned.
"The charges of adultery, perjury and treason carry the most serious of sentences, Miss Howard. Are you aware of this?"
Serious indeed: I need only think about my cousin Anne Boleyn, beheaded under these same offences without proof or justice. And yet, I had hoped that the King would show me mercy.
"I am aware of them, yes, but...the King...he will not show me any mercy?"
"Mercy?"
"Yes..."
"Why would he do that?"
I cannot think of anything to say. When the moment has come to explain myself, all of my reasons suddenly sound so stupid. No...there is no reason why His Majesty would spare me.
"He...he would not."
"Indeed. And finally, Miss Howard, you admit that your accomplice is also guilty?"
"My accomplice?"
"Jane Rochford."
"I...I do not know..."
Of course Jane is guilty in that she arranged my meetings with Culpepper. If anything, she encouraged them. But can I say that? Can I condemn her to death also?
"She was...aware...but I wouldn't think that she is to blame, as such."
"Not to blame?"
I stay silent and avoid eye contact.
"If Lady Rochford arranged your meetings with Culpepper, as we believe she did, then she is certainly guilty!"
There have been so many deaths recently, and too much of what has happened has been at my hand. I cannot bare to speak any more through fear of the consequences.
"Miss Howard, answer me. Did Jane Rochford arrange your meetings with Thomas Culpepper?"
"...yes..."
And just like that, I have sent Jane to her death. Up until recently, any mad person would be spared the death penalty, but the King has changed that.
The trial ends just as the sun is beginning to set. The procession leave as quickly and silently as they came this morning, and I am left to my thoughts. Alone and isolated, I feel nothing but fear. To think where I was even a year ago, happy, the Queen of England, and now I am doomed to a fate I feel was somehow chosen for me by others. What is going to happen to me now? The Tower? More questions?
The wheel turns as always, and the future remains to be seen.
A/N:
Hi readers,
Thank you so much for reading, To Catch a King is now on 1.8k, which to me is amazing! We are nearly at the end of Catherine's story, so I do hope that you keep reading until the end. I hope to write my next story about another one of Henry VIII's wives after I finish this one, so please follow me if you want updates about another Tudor novel! I'm thinking Catherine of Aragon, but I'm not sure yet.
Please vote or comment if you enjoyed this chapter, and, as I said, follow me if you want to.
Thank you again,
Issy ❤️
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