Letter from Mary Stafford (née Boleyn) to her sister, Lady Anne Boleyn, Marquess of Pembroke, 1541
My dearest sister,724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡGGHhi9O1Lq
Since returning from our meeting last week, I have thought over your proposition and have reached my conclusion: you have truly lost your mind. To even think of such things must be a sign of your obviously declining sensibilities. You always were too rash.724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSe6DYVfriL
In any case, I shall be with you in a fortnight to see for myself that your health is well and to put this ridiculousness to rest.724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡjR6GcuHkGO
Until then, Yours,724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡZ6oG44pHcq
Mary
Anne had tossed the letter onto the fire to burn it, watching as the embers consumed it, destroying all written evidence of her scheming. She must have no evidence of anything untoward between herself and her sister.
Her plan was, in theory, simple enough. Gregory Cromwell had been disinherited of several estates by the king after his father's execution. He had a wife and young child to provide for; surely he harboured some resentment against Henry, both for murdering his father and then making off with his inheritance. Anne counted on his access to Henry's son; he had a high chance of becoming Lord Protector should anything happen to King Henry - he was Prince Edward's uncle, after all - and if he was not appointed Protector, then he would at the very least be high up in the young Edward's council. She needed him to be for Elizabeth. Access to the boy at such a tender age was invaluable.
Mary's part was easy enough. All Anne wanted her to do was return to court - she had always loved it anyway - and find her way back into the king's bed. All she had to do was slowly, gently, carefully push him towards the idea of restoring Elizabeth to the act of succession. The only tricky part was ensuring it was Elizabeth, and only Elizabeth restored. If Katherine's daughter too was put back in line for the throne, it would throw out Elizabeth's chances. That couldn't be allowed to happen.
And finally, Thomas...724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡfUqBSJzvLC
Thomas was going to kill the king.
Of course that was the only the part of the plan Anne had got worked out.724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡawv4zgkV9v
Once Henry was dead and Edward on the throne, she still had to find a way of deposing him and replacing him with Elizabeth. But he was a sickly child, and chances were he would die before it became an issue. And besides, if she was not above killing one king, she wouldn't be above killing another. If it appeared that Edward was going to have a long reign bearing many heirs, then she would simply take care of it. Judging by the example of his father and grandfather though, she doubted it would go so far.
Thomas would have the hardest task, but even then, all he had to do was swiftly and discretely switch the bottles in the doctor's medicine case.724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡUKFBosmhSB
Henry had a nasty ulcer on his leg that often required treatment... Thomas had the nimblest fingers and the lightest step. He would be able to gain access to the doctor's chambers and replace the medicine in the king's bottle with a subtle poison. He would be, seemingly, blameless and the crime could have no way of being traced back to either himself or Anne. It would merely seem that the ulcer in the king's leg had finally turned septic and killed him.724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡSJ6pDlCvbr
Edward would be placed on the throne and Gregory Cromwell would place Elizabeth at court, near the king, allowing her to influence his decisions when and if he became of an age to rule independently. If died early, Cromwell would push forward Elizabeth's claim to the throne. With noble support behind him, and Elizabeth having lived at court for a number of years, she had a chance of being accepted as their new queen. She would have the crown, Anne would come out of exile and Henry would be six feet under a marble slab in Westminster.724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡs0qlqXlnbL
It was perfect.
"You. Are. Insane." Mary seethed two weeks later. Her fair hair was escaping from her fashionable French hood, and as her slender hand went to tuck it back behind her ear, Anne's grip caught it. She leaned closer to her sister.
"I am willing to do whatever it takes." She said simply. "Whatever. It. Takes." She repeated, each word as sharp as the thrust of a sword.
Mary shook her arm free, her wrist sore from the intensity of her sister's hold. She rubbed it gently, her dark eyes studying her sister with an unforgiving glare.
"It all rests on Thomas... Did you think that perhaps Thomas will not do it?" She asked calmly.724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡo9GrZlbQUQ
Anne paused; of course she hadn't considered that possibility. Thomas was always so willing to do anything for her.
"He'll do it." She said confidently. Mary rolled her eyes and laughed incredulously.
"He's only just been released from the Tower. For the second time. People don't get released from the Tower twice, Anne. Thomas is thanking his lucky stars he made it out. He can't risk a third trip behind Tower bars!" Mary said with a shake of her head. Footsteps in the hallway made her lower her tone, and she gritted her teeth as she leaned closer to Anne. "He won't make it out alive Anne, certainly not with what you're asking him to do!" She hissed. "Besides, you've said yourself that memories of the Tower still plague you. Tom has been inside again - did you never think that it haunts him just as much as you? More, perhaps?"
Anne bit her lip. Mary, admittedly, had a point. Anne remained silent and instead turned her attention to the sleeves of her dress where a thread was coming loose. It was originally stitched with two lines of pearls encircling her wrists, but now all but one row of white pearls remained, and even some of those had gone missing when the threads had broken. It was originally a bold red colour, a dark shade of burgundy that emphasised her glossy dark hair, but now it was faded and threadbare. Staring at one particular loose thread, she took a deep intake of breath.
"He'll do it." She said firmly. "He'll do it for me. He knows my situation here; how I cannot even afford to dress myself in new fabrics. How I cannot afford to heat more than one room in winter." Anne nodded, convincing herself more and more with each word she spoke. "He'll do it. For love of me, he'll do it."
"And I?" Mary asked. She sensed this conversation would last a while and so moved to one of the wooden chairs sitting by the small window that allowed the thin morning light to pass through. Sitting down she spread her skirts around her so as not to crease them. Anne couldn't help but notice the fabric was new and envy stabbed at her gut.724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡbB0wcHJWJX
Frivolous and foolish may it make me, Anne lamented mentally, but all I want are a few new dresses.
"What about you?" Anne asked casually, almost with a shrug of her shoulders. Mary's eyebrows raised.
"You expect me to jump back into Henry's bed, after all this time? Never mind the fact that I have a husband and children to care for, never mind that Henry will probably not look twice at me because of my relation to you!" Mary said with a short laugh. "This isn't going to work, Anne." She added desperately. She wanted her sister to understand the gravity of her words, to comprehend that even this - sitting talking privately in one of her rooms - was more than enough to get them killed.
"Of course it is." Anne replied gently. "Don't I always get what I want?" She asked with a sly grin. Mary rolled her eyes furiously, but bit her tongue. An argument was useless.
"Do you not want your niece to be queen?" Anne asked softly.
With a sigh, Mary moved to hold Anne's hand.
"Of course I do, Anne. But the risk..." She said shaking her head. Anne caught Mary's head between her palms to stop it shaking in such a disapproving manner. With her sister's face between her hands, she searched Mary's eyes, looking for the words to say that would convince her. And then Mary sighed and her features softened, and in that moment Anne knew that Mary would do whatever it took too, because she had been wronged by Henry just as much as Anne had. She had been set aside too, she too had bore Henry's child only for him to cast the baby away like it was nothing, like she was nothing.724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡBkp23gCH4L
The difference was that Anne's Elizabeth had a genuine chance of being queen; Mary's Henry didn't have a hope in hell. She couldn't do it for her son, but perhaps... perhaps she could do it for her niece.724Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzj44AusQpx
As the realisation formed in Anne's mind, she could see Mary's resolve hardening. With a grin on her face, Anne let her hands fall.
"We can do this." She whispered. Mary hesitated briefly before her thin lips curled in a smile of their own.
"I can hear the cries already: 'The king is dead'!" Anne said triumphantly. "The king is dead."
Mary nodded.
"Yes," She echoed slowly, taking her time to process the words leaving her lips, forcing herself to become accustomed to the shape and feel of them on her tongue. "The king is dead."
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