“So you are a kind of doctor?”
“Say a nurse rather. I sleep in his room, or close to his door, so that he can send for me at any time. You are disappointed. You thought I was going to tell you I was his chief adviser.”
“I did not.”
“Mine is perhaps the safer post. The bouts of anger which are directed against me are brief, and, as I say, he does always remember that I am more deft with a bandage than any other. He loves me more than he hates me; and although I am sorry I cannot tell you I have a high post in the King’s entourage, I believe my head is a little firmer on my shoulders than those of some in higher places.”
“I am glad of that,” I told him.
“I know you speak from the heart, cousin.”
“We do little of interest in our household. I am always hoping to come to Court.”
“You will one day, I am sure.”
“It would be good if we could both be there together.”
“I can think of nothing better.”
“Tell me of the Court.”
“It is as you would imagine, full of drama, full of comedy. All are seeking favor, so hoping to climb a little higher up the ladder to fortune.”
“And you?”
“I am happy as I am … and particularly at this moment, when I am near my dear little cousin whose company I have been denied so long.”
“Have you seen the Queen?”
“I have.”
“And what is she like? Is she really so unattractive?”
“By no means. She is a very gracious lady.”
“They are always saying the King is not pleased with his marriage.”
“In that they speak truth. He does not accept her as his wife. There are times when the lady is very uneasy. No doubt she remembers Anne Boleyn. Such a memory is enough to make any lady in her position somewhat uneasy.”
“She must be very unhappy.”
“She is fearful.”
“To be so … unwanted!”
“Mayhap that is not such a hardship, for ’tis my belief that she wants him no more than he wants her.”
“She does not like the King?”
“My dear little cousin, dare I whisper it? The King shows his age. His leg … But no more. They could send me to the Tower for such talk.”
“Send you to the Tower!”
He laughed. “Ah, when one lives near the King, one must take account of one’s words.”
“It is so exciting! How I wish I were there! Did you come here to see the Duchess?”
“She sent word that she wished to see me. She asked me a number of questions, stressing the connection between our families, my aunt being your mother, Jocasta. I told her that you and I met years ago. Then she asked me about my service to the King, and I mentioned that His Grace had a liking for me on account of my gentle fingers.”
I laughed. “Does that mean that she will invite you to come here and we shall meet again?”
He paused. “I pray that that may be,” he said. “But in the service of the King, one is moving all the time. There are those peregrinations around the country. The King must show himself to the people. We leave Greenwich tomorrow and when we shall return I cannot say. But when we do, depend upon it, I shall find some reason for calling on my little cousin.”
I clasped my hands together in delight and he said: “And now, I must away. Au revoir, cousin.” He placed his hands on my shoulders. He held me against him for a moment and kissed my forehead.
Then he stepped back, bowed, and ran down to the waiting barge.
My grandmother sent for me. Her legs were giving her great pain and she would have me rub in a new unguent which had been recommended to her by the apothecary.
“I declare,” she said, “they bother me more than they ever did.”
I set to work and she talked. “Your cousin, Master Culpepper, called on me lately.”
I paused. A fear had come to me. Had someone seen him give me that “cousinly kiss”?
“Go on, child,” she said impatiently. “A goodly young man, Master Thomas. I heard he had a post at Court. It seems he has become a favorite of the King.”
I did not say that I had met him and that he had told me what that post was.
“Yes. His Majesty favors the young man. I believe he often sleeps in the King’s chamber, and, with the King’s favor, doubtless will advance himself.”
“I am pleased at this.”
“You are not a child now, Katherine Howard. Eighteen, is it? It is time a match was made for you. I have spoken to your uncle and he agrees with me that the time has come. You have some qualities, but little education.”
She looked at me reproachfully, and I was tempted to remind her that I had none because it had never been given to me; but I restrained myself.
She went on: “Your uncle is considering whether a match might be arranged for you and your cousin, Thomas Culpepper.”
A great joy swept over me. My hands trembled. I could not believe this. My cousin—whom I had now convinced myself I had loved from the moment I saw him—and I to be husband and wife! Now that I had seen him again, he seemed to me all that a man should be; and I believed he was as ready to love me as I loved him. It was a dream come true.
“The idea does not seem to displease you,” said the Duchess.
“Your Grace, I am sure it will be a very suitable match.”
“Master Culpepper has the King’s favor, and that means a great deal.”
“Yes, Your Grace.”
“Well … if he will have you, and if the Duke—and I tell you, he is considering this—if the Duke comes to the conclusion that it is right for the family, then there will be a match for you and Culpepper.”
I spent the rest of the day in a haze of contentment, recalling every word he had said to me at our last meeting and going back to that childhood encounter. I think I imagined that we had plighted our troth then as children.
What mattered it? The prospect of marriage with Thomas Culpepper made me very happy indeed.
I was hoping for a speedy conclusion—marriage and happiness ever after. However, the Court was traveling round the country and not only Thomas Culpepper but the Duke of Norfolk was with it. Nothing more was said of the proposed marriage and I must try to restrain my impatience.
It was difficult to do this, for I wanted to tell everyone.
They noticed the change in me.
“Mistress Katherine Howard looks as though she has come into a fortune,” commented Mary Lassells.
“Or is it love?” asked Dorothy. “Do tell us.”
“Oh, it is not yet settled,” I said guardedly.
“So … there are plans afoot.”
“As yet there is nothing to say,” I answered, regretting I had mentioned the matter.
“I saw you talking to a very handsome young man in the gardens. Indeed, I saw him kiss you.”
“Oh, it was only a cousinly kiss.”
“Your cousin?”
“Yes. Master Culpepper. He had been sent for by the Duchess. As he is my cousin, it is meet for him to give me a cousinly kiss.”
“And who is this Master Culpepper?” asked Dorothy.
“He has a place at Court. The King favors him.”
They exchanged glances; and I left them, chiding myself for having mentioned him. But I was often careless and therefore frequently telling myself that I should not have said this or that.
It was a week or so later. The Duchess had not referred again to the match, and when I tried to bring it into the conversation, she brushed it aside, so that I knew that the negotiations had gone no further.
Then I had a shock. I was in the gardens near the privy stairs, gazing along the river to Greenwich, when a barge drew up. Immediately I thought of Thomas Culpepper, but to my horror I saw that the occupant was Francis Derham.