Free Betrayal in the Tudor Court by Darcey Bonnette Page A

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 a young girl and disillusion her even more. Best cloak it in a (semi) noble cause.
    “Pray for them, Lady Mirabella,” Father Alec urged her. “Pray for all involved. And you must be confident that whatever happens, even if it is beyond your understanding, even if you do not agree with it, is the will of God.”
    Helped along by men, he added silently.
    But it consoled Mirabella to the desired degree and she quit the room to indulge in her favourite pastime.
    Father Alec excused himself to do likewise.
    Unlike Mirabella, he did not pray for the preservation