“So, no reform,” Archbishop Cranmer says to me when I come to church to pray and find him kneeling before the cross. His old face looks tired in the light of the candles from the altar. He had thought and studied and prayed on the reforms that the church needed, and then found that one letter from Bishop Gardiner turned the king around again.

“No reform yet,” I correct him. “But who can doubt that God will shine the light of learning on England and its king? I have hope. I have faith, even when progress is so very slow.”

“And he listens to you,” Thomas says. “He is proud of your scholarship and he takes your advice. If you will keep warning him against the power and corruption of Rome, and advising him to be tolerant of the new thinking, we will go on. I am sure we will go on.” He smiles. “He once called me the greatest heretic in Kent,” he says. “But still I am his bishop and his spiritual advisor. He will tolerate discussion from those he loves. He is generous to me and to you.”

“He is never anything but kind to me,” I confirm. “When we first married I feared him, but I have come to trust him. Except for when he is in pain, or when he is angry about something, or when things are going badly, he is always patient and generous.”

“We two who are honored with his affection and trust, will work for his good and the good of the kingdom,” Thomas Cranmer pledges. “You, with the cause of reform in the court, teaching them the right way with your rooms a beacon of learning, and I will keep the clergy to the Bible. The Word, the Word; there is nothing greater than the Word of God.”

“He spoke today of a war on the reformers in Germany,” I say. “I am afraid that the emperor is planning a terrible purge of believers, a massacre. But there was no way for me to speak against it.”

“There will always be times when he won’t listen. Just bide your time and speak when you can.”

“He spoke also of rumors that Anne of Cleves had his child, and he said that she was an ornament to our court. He told me that people are saying that I am ill and likely to die.”

Thomas Cranmer looks at me as if he fears what I might say next. Gently he rests his hand on my head in a blessing. “As long as you never do anything wrong, then God will protect you, and the king will love you,” he says quietly. “But you have to be completely innocent of any sin, my daughter, completely innocent of any imputation of sin. You must always show wifely loyalty and wifely obedience. Always make sure of that.”