“Girls like herself,” the duchess scoffed. “Not proper chaperones. The princess is not yet fourteen and her attendants are only a few years older.”
“They are sensible young women,” Mistress Astley countered. Meek and mild she might be, but she was brave enough to defend her young charge.
“And you yourself most assuredly are not! If you do not exert greater control over the princess in the future, you will be replaced as Her Grace’s governess.”
Mistress Astley’s face lost every vestige of color at the threat of being separated from the young girl she had nurtured since she was a toddler. Smiling in satisfaction, Lady Somerset unleashed yet another wave of invective.
After that incident, life in Lady Somerset’s household became well nigh unbearable. She delighted in making everyone miserable. I was careful not to offend her, but when the end of summer came with no decision yet by the commission, I took matters into my own hands. I begged leave of the duchess, claiming I wished to return to my parents. She granted it with unflattering swiftness. Before she could change her mind, I packed my belongings, hired a boat, and set off downriver.
I had no intention of going to Cowling Castle. My destination was Will’s house in Lambeth. Norfolk House stood just west of the archbishop of Canterbury’s palace and across the Thames from Westminster. I was done with being patient. Although we would have to keep my presence secret for the nonce, I meant to make Norfolk House my home, living there with Will while we waited for the commissioners to sanction our union.
28
We renewed our vows in the private chapel of Norfolk House, and although there was still no priest to bless our union, this time I kept Will’s ring on my finger afterward. We would have to wait until the commission stopped dawdling and made its ruling before we could announce our married state to the world, but in the meantime we would be together, living as man and wife.
We had our own private marriage feast to celebrate, just the two of us. Will ordered his cook to prepare all my favorite foods. His musicians played for us while we ate, and when the meal had been cleared away and the table removed, we danced to the sound of lute and pipe and tabor. Candlelight played across the strong planes of Will’s face to show me the look of devotion—and desire—in his eyes.
“Have you naught planned but dancing?” I whispered when the next tune came to an end. Smiling, I fluttered my eyelashes, affecting the shyness of a demure maiden.
He knew my meaning, but he could not resist teasing me in return. “Would you have a masque to celebrate our wedding, love? Or mayhap a tournament?”
“I would have you, Will, all to myself.” I sent a pointed look toward the grinning musicians. They were not the Bassanos this time, but simply trusted members of Will’s household.
A gesture sent them away. Then Will swept me into his arms and carried me to his bedchamber. Our bedchamber.
Sweet-scented herbs had been strewn and a low fire made with apple-wood burned in the hearth. A brace of candles lit our way to the bed, another of the enormous carved and gilded pieces Will favored, richly furnished with feather beds and down-filled coverlets.
I had no need of a tiring maid. Will had me out of my wedding finery in a trice and himself undressed in half that time. We stared at each other, completely naked together for the first time since we’d exchanged vows at Guildford, before the Duke of Suffolk’s untimely death had interfered with our plans. I laughed in delight.
“Are you pleased with your bargain, wife?” Will asked.
“Well pleased, husband, except that you are standing too far away from me.”
He obligingly closed the distance between us and took me into his arms. Then we consummated our second marriage ceremony even more thoroughly than we had our first.
That set the pattern of our nights. Our days passed just as pleasurably.
No one knew I was living at Norfolk House save Will’s two sisters; his recently acquired brother-in-law, Tom Seymour; and the queen dowager’s faithful waiting gentlewoman—she had been promoted from chamberer—Mary Woodhull. Mary, who was herself betrothed to Davy Seymour, was happy for me. Tom Seymour thought we should have waited. Fine talk from a man whose own marriage had been scandalously precipitous!
My family continued to think I was still in the service of the Duchess of Somerset. The only others I might have confided in also resided at some distance. My first mistress, Jane Dudley, had remained in the country since becoming Countess of Warwick instead of Lady Lisle, and my friend Alys Guildford, who had returned to her kinswoman’s service, was with her.
The months that followed our decision to live together as husband and wife were filled with quiet contentment. I loved Norfolk House from the first moment I saw it. The mansion, adjoined by substantial gardens, several paddocks, and a two-acre close, boasted a great chamber for dining, a gallery for walking, an oratory, several privy closets, and a great many other rooms. We had one just for music—Will played the virginals while I strummed my lute. There was a library in which Will delighted. And the largest bedchamber, with that magnificent bed, continued to please us both.
Will went often to court to attend meetings of the Privy Council, but this required no more than a quick trip on the horse ferry that plied the Thames between Lambeth and Westminster. All the rest of his time, he spent with me.
When the cold weather came, we made one of the smaller chambers our withdrawing room. We placed two Glastonbury chairs close to the hearth, one for each of us. The first time it became so warm in the chamber that beads of sweat formed on our foreheads; we took off each other’s clothing, piece by piece, spread it out before the fire as a makeshift bed, and made love. Afterward, we watched the flames and dreamed of the future.
“I have put several of my northern estates in your name,” Will said, “to assure you of an income should anything happen to me before you are officially acknowledged as my wife.”
I sat up, my mood shattered. “Nothing will happen to you.”
“So fierce,” he murmured as he drew me back into his arms and made me forget he’d ever mentioned the matter.
When the court traveled to Enfield to celebrate Christmas, and the queen dowager, her husband, and Princess Elizabeth joined King Edward there, we remained in Norfolk House. It was our first Yuletide together. We enjoyed blissful solitude until my old friend Jack Dudley barged in. He left most of his men, in their bright new Lisle livery, to wait in the courtyard while he boldly strode into our little withdrawing room. Two burly fellows wearing the Duke of Somerset’s badges on their sleeves came with him.
“How dare you invade my home?” Will demanded. Fury mottled his face and deepened his voice to a growl.
Jack avoided looking directly at me by keeping his attention on Will. “I have been sent by the Duke of Somerset, lord protector of this realm, and I have here the authority to carry out his orders.” He produced a roll of parchment.
Will snatched it out of Jack’s hand. As he read, his color changed so rapidly from red to white that I feared he was about to have a seizure. Already on my feet, I tried to go to him, but Jack stepped between us. I shoved at him, but I could not budge him. When I attempted to duck around him, he caught me and tugged me close against his side. I curled my hands into fists and hit him, but it was like striking armor. I stomped on his foot with even less effect, since I wore thin leather shoes and he had on heavy riding boots.
“Behave, Bess,” Jack hissed in my ear. “Better to yield to me than some other.”
I stilled, but only because Will was ripping the document to pieces. Jack signaled to Somerset’s men to seize hold of Will.
“This is an outrage,” Will shouted as they hauled him out of the room.