The Queen's Mistake by Diane Haeger

came to so volatile a subject. The king enjoyed toying with people—Norfolk knew that well enough from personal experience. But this seemingly spontaneous visit was the key to setting
his plans in motion. One look at Catherine from the always-amorous monarch, and Norfolk could initiate the next phase of his plan.
    Glancing around, Norfolk saw that Catherine had not yet returned from her stroll with Cromwell. He felt irritation begin to creep up beneath his elegant doublet and the heavy, glittering chain across his broad chest.
    He turned to the page beside him and said, “Find her.” In an instant, the young man slipped from the room and was gone.
    Norfolk directed his attention once again to the king.
    “Your niece is installed now in my wife’s household, is she not?”
    “Newly so, yes, Your Majesty.”
    “And how has she found it so far?”
    “It is early yet, to be honest. Few of the women know her.”
    “Or accept her,” the king replied with a little chuckle, taking a large bite of the lamb that had been served. He seemed not to notice or care that no one else at the table was eating. As he began rather sloppily and loudly to chew, his knobby chin bobbing, a bit of sauce dribbled onto his copper beard. “They are like cats, those women, sleek, beautiful, but capable of scratching your eyes out the moment they feel threatened.”
    “Eloquently put, Your Majesty.”
    “Is your Mistress Howard a threat then, Norfolk?”
    Norfolk caught himself before he showed the surprise he felt at the blunt question. Was he asking if she was another Anne Boleyn? Norfolk decided to keep his tone and response light. “If you will permit a doting uncle, she is a beauty, certainly. But only the ladies themselves could say the rest for certain.”
    “I am told the queen has kept her at a distance since she arrived.”
    “I think perhaps that might have been the ladies’ doing more than the queen’s.”

    Henry arched a ginger eyebrow. “Any difficult lady in particular I should know about?”
    “I am told of no particular lady, sire. It is only experience that is my teacher in this.”
    “And a wise teacher it is.” Henry laughed as he swallowed a large gulp of wine, then belched. “The truth is, I wanted to have a look at your niece for myself. To see without my entire court looking on if there is a resemblance.”
    The resemblance he meant, of course, was to Anne Boleyn. No one dared speak of it, but Norfolk knew everyone saw it. There was no reason Henry would not also.
    Henry sighed beneath his breath, shivered, then stiffened. “If only she had not argued with me so much at the end, Norfolk, especially over Elizabeth’s place in things, I might have been able to spare her life.”
    Henry was more vulnerable to his unhappiness and to these bouts of nostalgia and regret than the duke fully realized. But Norfolk had an uncanny instinct for timing and opportunity. He could not have wished for a better scenario to set the first elements of his plan into motion.
    Norfolk glanced back at the door. Where the devil was Catherine?
    “Now then, speaking of Boleyn women . . .” said the king, chewing another mouthful of food as he looked across the table at Jane. His gaze settled there, and for an instant he was motionless.
    From Henry’s expression, it struck Norfolk that this was the first time in four years the two had been in such close proximity since Jane’s banishment. She had only just recently been allowed to return to court. Even though she had testified against her own husband, who was Anne’s brother, Henry had never seen Jane as an ally, but rather an unpleasant reminder of that dark and desperate period.
Since her return, Jane Boleyn had remained in the background of the queen’s staff. Until now.
    “I wish to meet your little Catherine tonight,” Henry said, fingering the goblet before him as he sucked his teeth. “If, that is, you can find her.”
    Just then, the page charged with finding Catherine