“Forgive me, my lady.” I was deeply remorseful.
Kate nodded. “An astute person does not let her talk become a menace to those around her.”
“Yes, madam.” It was a maternal reproof but offered with love. I knew, too, by the eddies swirling around the court, that while all were happy to see a woman of her kindness and learning become queen, none knew what to expect from His Majesty. His cycle of affection seemed to shorten with each bride.
I am to be a friend and protector. Useful in all I do. I shall learn to hold my tongue.
We maidens left her there in the Queen’s Closet shortly afore the ceremony with the unreasonably merry guests, among whom were relatives of Anne Boleyn, Jane Seymour, and Catherine Howard. On the return to my chamber I walked the long gallery and as I did, I recalled to mind that only a year and a half had passed since Queen Catherine Howard had run shrieking down this very hallway, begging for her life from the king, who’d refused, as was his habit, to see her afore sending her to her death. It made me very cold indeed with concern for my lady.
That evening there was a small but sumptuous dinner. ’Twas held in the great hall, of which Henry was proud, and rightly so. The king’s minstrels played marvelously well, the strings groaning and the flute whispering breathily as I imagined lovers might, which was only fit for this eve.
“Kate eats lightly,” I pointed out to Dorothy, who sat beside me.
“’Tis her wedding night,” she giggled, and raised her eyebrows. “Of course.”
“I noticed that the king is not as disinclined toward the table.” I spoke softly.
Dorothy laughed and drew near me. “Imagine waiting in your marriage bed and seeing His Majesty coming toward you.” She wrinkled her nose.
“Much like a barge making its way down the Thames. I fancy a rather different kind of wedding night,” I replied with a grin. I wanted to tease with her but did have a caution toward idle chatter, due to Kate’s earlier rebuke.
“I too,” Dorothy said before taking her leave to talk with another friend. I wondered whether Dorothy had a young man waiting for her in her home shire, someone her father had picked out for her, a spoken or even an unwelcome but seemingly unavoidable understanding, as I had with Matthias. In all our time together it had been a topic she’d never raised and assiduously avoided when I had.
Lady Margaret Neville slid alongside me. She looked rather wan, and I urged her to retire to her chamber early as Lady Herbert would serve the queen this night.
“I may,” she said, looking off toward the corner and then nodding. “As I can see I’ll leave you in welcome company.”
She smiled in the way of a true friend, and when I saw upon whom she trained her gaze, James Hart, I blushed. My affections had been made plain enough that Lady Margaret Neville had guessed my feelings, and then I grew white with the shock that he was there at all.
“You seem surprised to see me, mistress,” he said as he took my arm and did not release it but used it to draw me near. A most welcome gesture. “You mistook me for a ghost?”
“’Tis unlikely any would mistake you for a ghost,” I said. Then I repented of it because I did not want him to think I was looking upon his figure.
“Why is that?” he teased, clearly knowing my thoughts.
“I thought you had left with Sir Thomas.” I neatly turned the subject, which he gallantly allowed.
“I leave to join him soon, after returning to Ireland with my brother Oliver to meet with some who will contract with us for shipping. Have you partaken of enough strawberries?” He waved over one of the king’s servers and requested more. When they arrived, he handed the platter to me and I plucked the finest one and held it out to him.
“I am already overfond of strawberries,” he said, his voice quiet but rough as he cupped my hand with one of his own before plucking out the berry with the other. “I must have a care ’ere I become overfond of their bearer as well.”
I ducked my head to hide the coming pink flush. James laughed.
“I do have a small trunk for Her Grace,” he said, looking at Kate.
Ah yes, I must recall to style her that from now on.
“May I give it to you in her stead? It’s from Sir Thomas.”
“What is it?” I asked. I was not about to take delivery of something that would put her at risk, and while I knew Kate loved Sir Thomas, I was not altogether certain that he might not bedevil her in some unwitting way.
“Books,” he said softly. “From the ship that put into harbor late. She expects them.”
“Yes,” I agreed. “I shall keep them in my chamber until I can place them in her locked cupboard.”
I told him where to find my chamber and he said he would arrive there presently with the books. I quickly made my way down the long galleries, past the courtyard, and to my room.
It wasn’t but a few minutes later when James’s knock came to my door.
I pinched my cheeks for color, smoothed back my hair, and opened the chamber door. “Come in,” I said.
“Here they are.” He handed a small case of books to me. I’d look over the titles later; Kate would surely not mind. He took one off of the top, though. “May I take a seat?”
“Oh, of course,” I said, sorry that I had forgotten my manners. We pulled the two small chairs next to the fire. He handed the book to me.
“This one is for you.”
I opened my eyes wide, and then my mouth, and then shut them both. I tried to speak but nothing came out.
“You make a fine imitation of a puppet,” James teased.
I looked down upon the book. It was leather bound, and on the top, in gilt, was written Saint George and the Dragon. Brilliant colors and finely wrought drawings completed the magnificent cover. I drew it close to me. “Oh, thank you, James. But you needn’t have.”
“Of course I needn’t have,” he said. “But I was carrying books for a client who oft asks me what I’d like for myself. Normally I take nothing. This time I said I’d like this book, as I knew someone who would appreciate it.”
“Oh, yes, yes, I will. I mean I do. I mean, thank you!”
He grinned. “’Tis not every day I get to please a pretty mistress.”
“Don’t ruin the gift with a mistruth,” I advised. At that, he laughed before standing up and growing sober.
“I’d best take my leave,” he said. “We sail with the tide.”
I stood and walked him to the door of my chamber. “How can I thank you? I do not like to receive a gift without giving one in return.”
He pretended to think afore answering. “A kiss …?”
I nodded. He bent near and did not press his advantage in an ungentlemanly way, but kissed me softly on the lips; for a moment, though, I heard and felt his breath quicken and sensed he would have liked to have made the kiss longer.
I wished it too. My thoughts were dismissed and emotions summoned forth and I felt faint and alive both at once.
It didn’t seem enough, one kiss for a book, a wonderful book, the book that reminded me of my sweet father. I decided I could offer him something further. Hope. And belief in him.
“’Till we meet again, Sir James Hart.”
“I shall do my best to earn that knighthood, Juliana,” he said softly. He turned to walk away and then turned back toward me. “Thank you,” he said with emotion I’d not heard in his voice before.
FIVE
Summer, Autumn, and Winter: Year of Our Lord 1543
Hampton Court Palace
Ashridge House
Greenwich Palace
Even before her wedding Her Grace had begun to assemble her household and its goods, and the ladies and the men who would serve her now that she was queen. She surrounded herself with those she could trust and some she could not. Her uncle served as her lord chamberlain, her cousin as her cupbearer. Among her new ladies was the stunningly lovely Elisabeth Brooke, niece of the poet Thomas Wyatt, who had died the year before. The queen’s brother, William, was married to the highborn heir to the Earl of Essex, but she’d abandoned William Parr two years earlier to elope with another man, though her current marriage had not yet ended by divorce or annulment. She thus lived in bigamy, and had brazenly borne a child by her new husband, a prior, no less. William, thus abandoned, was especially taken with Elisabeth Brooke.