“What others will there be?”
“The other ladies. All those of us who attend upon Her Grace. We have one large room in which we sleep. The Long Room. I will show you.”
She took me up some stairs. The Long Room was almost at the top of the house.
I looked at it in amazement. It was indeed long, and there were two rows of beds in it. On some of them lay garments.
My first thought was one of relief. I had imagined myself sleeping in some ghostly chamber alone. I should have plenty of company here.
I turned and smiled at Isabel and she returned my smile.
“Here you will have some amusement,” she said. “And, Mistress Katherine Howard, I believe you are of a kind to enjoy the fun. This will be your bed. Here … at the end. I shall draw the curtains about it so that you will not be disturbed when the others come to bed. Then you will quickly recover from your long journey.”
“I am sure I shall, and, to tell the truth, I like not to sleep alone.”
That amused her again. “No, you are not of that kind, Mistress Howard.” She hesitated. “Some of the girls can be very merry. Heed them not. Just sleep tonight, and tomorrow you will feel as fresh and well as you ever did, I’ll warrant.”
Isabel had drawn the curtains. I was exhausted by the long journey and my new experiences. I soon fell into a deep slumber, completely unaware that the first step toward my ultimate doom had been taken.
It is not the following days which live in my memory … but the nights; and it was on my second one that I first witnessed some of the strange scenes which occurred in the Long Room after the household had retired.
I had gone early to bed and lay there with the curtains drawn, as Isabel had advised, because, she said, the ladies were apt to forget how late it was when they came to bed and when others, like Mistress Katherine Howard, might be wanting to sleep.
I was not so tired as I had been on the previous night, yet it was my custom to fall asleep as soon as I lay down, and this I did, to be awakened some time later by the sound of low laughter.
I opened my eyes. I could see the light of some candles through a gap in the bed curtains, and I lay there listening.
People were talking in low voices; there was a good deal of giggling and what I imagined to be suppressed laughter. I lay in my bed, wondering what was happening beyond my curtains.
I guessed that several of the girls were awake. Certain sounds made me wonder whether there was some sort of feast. I could contain my curiosity no longer. I must see what was happening out there.
I slipped out of bed, stood close to the bed curtains and, very cautiously, parted them.
It was a strange scene. A number of the girls were sitting up in bed. I could not believe that I saw aright, for the girls were not alone. Young men were there. Some of them were lying on the beds, their arms about the girls.
I had been right. They were eating and drinking. Several held goblets in their hands and it was clear that they were having a very happy time.
I could not understand why the young men were there. They had their own apartments, surely. Some of the men were familiar to me, for I had already seen them about the house. The Duchess had a big retinue of people to serve her, and among these were the young men and women of lesser houses whose parents sought to introduce them into a ducal establishment.
They were whispering together and, young as I was, I was old enough to know that they were doing something which, if it reached the ears of those in authority, would bring dire punishment upon these men and girls. I was stunned, shocked; and I knew they must not catch me spying.
I went silently back to bed and lay there shivering—not with cold, but with fear. I was asking myself what I ought to do about this startling discovery.
The next day, Isabel said to me: “I saw you last night. You were peeping through the curtains. What did you see?”
I felt myself blushing.
“Come, Mistress Howard,” urged Isabel. “You must tell me.”
I stammered: “I saw the women … in their beds.”
“Yes. What else?”
“I saw the men … beside them.”
“It was just a little gathering … of friends. An entertainment. You understand? It is the sort of party people have when they are grown up.”
“I did not know.”
“Of course you did not. You are not grown up, are you? You did not live in a great house like this one. There is much you do not know, but you will see and learn here. Have you told anyone what you saw?”
“No. No one has asked me.”
“If your grandmother should …”
“I did not see my grandmother.”
“No, but if you did, you must say nothing to her.”
“Why? Is it wrong then?”
“Wrong? Who says it is wrong? Did you think it was wrong?”
“I … I don’t know … but as you say not to tell…”
“You are too young to understand. It is what people do but do not talk about.”
I was bewildered, struggling to understand, and suddenly she put her arms about me.
“Mistress Katherine Howard,” she said. “I am growing very fond of you, and you are growing fond of me, I do swear.”
“You have been kind to me.”
“So you will promise me that you will say nothing of what you saw last night.”
I promised.
I had been in Horsham more than a week before my grandmother remembered me, and a summons came for me to present myself to her.
I had changed a little since my arrival. Some new gowns had been provided for me, and, although they were by no means grand, they were a marked improvement on my previous wardrobe. I sat down to regular meals, which I took with the waiting women, and this pleased me because Isabel had now become my closest friend and she was always pleasant to me in a rather conspiratorial way, which I realized was because I shared the secret of what happened in the communal bedchamber on some nights. No governess had been provided for me, and I was left a great deal to myself, for all the waiting women, though not overworked, had certain duties to perform. It was an extraordinary life, largely because of those scenes which I witnessed through the bed curtains. They did not occur every night, and I was never told when they would. I would go to the Long Room before the others and sometimes sleep through the night. On other occasions, I would wake and hear the giggles, the protesting murmurs which, some instinct told me, were more invitations than protests. I would be unable to resist the temptation to slip from my bed and peep through the curtains and look at the girls and men laughing, whispering and fondling each other.
Life was very different here from that in my father’s house, but, of course, there had not been all these young men and women in the service of the household, and I had not been able to observe how people behaved when they grew up.
When my grandmother sent for me, I went to her in some trepidation, for I feared she was going to find some fault with me and decide she did not want me to remain in her house.
I had begun to think that she had forgotten all about me, and was hoping that this was so, but now I knew that this could not be the case as she had sent for me. I realized that I did not want to leave. Life here fascinated me, particularly the night scenes I witnessed through the bed curtains. I sometimes wished that I could go out there and join in the fun which they seemed to enjoy so much.
As I approached my grandmother’s apartments, I heard music. I rapped on the door and, as there was no command to enter, timidly I lifted the latch and walked in.
My grandmother was seated on her chair, as she had been on our first encounter in that room. Beside her was a table on which was a tray of sweetmeats. She was eating—presumably one of them—and on a stool nearby her sat a young man playing the lute.