The Boleyn Deceit Read Online Free PDF Page A

the realm needs another duke?”
    “It is not titles I am thinking of, but opinions. I think the realm needs binding, and this council should represent more than one viewpoint to serve effectively.” Dominic, unlike Northumberland, always looked perfectly suited to the finesse of the court. Tall (though William, at six feet two inches, Dominic had finally topped him by an inch), and though soberly dressed, Dominic had a way of carrying himself that reminded everyone that he had Plantagenet blood several generations back. Mostly, though, Dominic belonged because he never bothered to think about whether he did or not. It was instinctive.
    “Such as the views of those who meant to march a foreign army upon London and kill our king?” Northumberland countered, brusque and angry. He had not his son Robert’s careful guile; he was too sure of his power to play games. “There is no place for traitors in England, let alone welcoming them into the heart of the court.”
    “Traitors, no,” Dominic retorted. “But men of good heart andhonest thought, who want the same end but perhaps through different means. No one man holds a lock on all virtue.”
    William laughed. “Really, Dom, how old are you? You sound like a university philosopher. Not,” he added, “that you aren’t right. It is a poor king indeed who cannot be trusted to hear more than one voice in council.”
    “Does that mean you are ready to name new men?” Rochford pressed.
    “It does. Wriothesley, Arundel, Paget, and Cheney. We need men as skilled as they are opinionated. And they will be free to speak their minds.” William looked around. “That’s all.”
    He was half out of his chair when Rochford said, “Lord Exeter spoke truly, Your Majesty.”
    Subsiding with a suppressed groan, William said, “He always does. On which particular point do you agree with his truthfulness?”
    “We must decide what to do with the Earl of Surrey.”
    The late Duke of Norfolk’s grandson, currently held in the Tower of London for suspicion of treasonable activity, Surrey was heir to his grandfather’s title and vast lands that would place him on a footing with Rochford and Northumberland—if he didn’t lose his head. Even if William chose to leave him alive, he could seize the lands for the Crown and, say, banish Surrey to the Continent. Or simply keep him imprisoned.
    Not that they had evidence Surrey had done anything treasonable.
    Not that it necessarily mattered.
    Northumberland had already made up his mind; no surprise considering how the Dudleys and Howards hated one another. “Norfolk cheated us of a useful execution—make Surrey take his place. That will teach the Catholics not to play at rebellion.”
    “Surrey has been raised Protestant,” Dominic pointed out. William didn’t have to ask his friend’s opinion; distaste was written all over his face. The others would agree with the louder voices. That left, as always, Rochford.
    “What say you, Uncle?” William asked. “Kill a man for his name?”
    Rochford hesitated, and in that unusual moment of uncertainty William saw a momentary likeness to Dominic. Again, a resemblance not wholly surprising considering that Dominic’s mother was a second cousin to George Boleyn. They both had long, thoughtful faces and dark good looks that made women pliable. “There is wisdom in the use of a public execution. But there is also wisdom in mercy. You have established a position of strength, Your Majesty: victory in France, betrothal to the French king’s daughter, the Lady Mary under house arrest … I think, perhaps, it is time to ponder mercy.”
    “Besides the fact that there is no evidence of Surrey’s involvement?” Dominic broke in, barely a step away from open sarcasm.
    “That is true,” Rochford answered slowly. “In fact, I am disturbed by his consistent denials. Surrey has not wavered, or been caught in a single falsehood. It may well be that he is innocent of any crime.”
    “Except