One morning toward October Kate drew Margaret and me aside. “After the king and I visit, I should like you to remain with the Lady Elizabeth at Ashridge for a short while. It is good for the Lady Elizabeth to become more comfortable with the members of my household, as I intend to invite her to court often. Mainly, I’d like you to make polite conversation about what she’s studying with her tutors, as I would like to know if her studies have taken a … reformed religious direction. Lady Fitzgerald Browne will remain with you, as her brothers and cousin are in residence with Prince Edward’s household at Ashridge right now, and she’s been in the Lady Elizabeth’s household for some time as well.”
I was to be a companion and a spy! I couldn’t wait, as it promised both novelty and adventure.
We approached through a thick forest of slim trees standing straight and tall, a company of soldiers with heads like old men’s, losing their color and thinning as winter approached. Once we’d traveled through the forest, Ashridge House itself came into view, magnificent and lovely, the shade of weak sunlight. Turrets and arches and carefully carved stone graced each view and approach.
Lady Troy, who was in charge of the household, met us and had someone show us to our chambers. All dined later, in the gallery. The king and queen sat near His Majesty’s children Edward and Elizabeth.
I could not hear their conversation in whole, but I did see the queen place her hand on the prince’s hair and pet it soothingly; he closed his eyes and near swooned with pleasure. She bent down, before the evening was gone, and softly kissed the Lady Elizabeth on both cheeks before squeezing her shoulder lightly.
“You must both look upon me as your mother,” she said as she and the king took their leave to mingle with the other adults. The look of delight on the children’s faces was marvelous to behold. Neither child had truly ever had a mother’s love, and I understood that; I felt thusly when showered by Kate’s affections, too, and yearned for it when ’twas not present, though I was now nineteen years of age, old enough to be a mother myself. Henry beamed with pride and drew Kate near to him in a way that showed all how he desired her company day and night.
After the king and queen left Ashridge, we often dined with the Lady Elizabeth’s household and sometimes with the young Prince Edward. As discreetly as I could, I watched the two of them play and talk side by side with no rancor nor ill will. And yet Elizabeth’s mother had been beheaded to make way for Edward’s mother. Of course, the mother of the Lady Mary had been set aside to make way for the mother of Elizabeth. I’d noticed on progress that while Mary was congenial toward her half sister, she had not been truly warm to any save Kate, the king, and her own ladies. I also recalled that she had called the Lady Elizabeth’s mother a concubine upon first meeting me.
“Should you like to play a game of rook?” Elizabeth asked one afternoon after her studies were complete.
“I should, my lady. But I must warn you my skills are sadly unpracticed, not having cause to play of late.”
“Then I must warn you,” she said with a grin, “that I do not ever forfeit a game nor countenance those who do. A win must be a win. But we shall enjoy the parry.”
We sat down at an ivory carved chessboard near a fireplace in the great hall and played whilst Edward did his lessons upstairs. They shared tutors, that much I had learned, and the tutors were bent toward reformist learning but cautiously so.
I held my own for the first half of the game, and then the Lady Elizabeth, spurred by the challenge and desire to win, began to plan her moves most carefully. Of a sudden, she went for the kill.
“Check,” she said confidently.
“I am trapped. The game is yours.”
“’Tis mine,” she agreed, and met my gaze with a calm smile.
I liked her without reserve. I knew then that my prophecy had been given to protect her—not Thomas, not the highborn woman who held her fast, and not myself, but the Lady Elizabeth, for what greater good, I knew not, and, truth be told, may never know.
SIX
Year of Our Lord 1544
Whitehall
Saint James Palace
Hampton Court Palace
The king had told Kate, upon her marriage, to choose whichever women she liked to pass the time with her in amusing manners or otherwise accompany her for her leisure. The queen certainly did so; we played cards and dice and she loved to hunt with her greyhounds. But His Majesty did not realize, I was sure, the extent to which Kate was about more serious business. Her chambers were oft filled with women who held spirited debates upon philosophy and religion.
Early in January, six months after Archbishop Cranmer had requested His Majesty’s marriage license for him, Cranmer was informed that he was to be sent to the Tower upon the morrow for beliefs and activities that were considered heresy. Tristram Tyrwhitt was near the king’s presence chamber when it happened, and he came to tell us that eve in the queen’s rooms. One of her footmen, dressed in a claret-colored doublet and hose, opened the doors and showed him in. After bowing, Tyrwhitt began.
“Cranmer appeared, white as mold on cheese and sweating like those who are ill. He abased himself before the king,” Tristram said, “and pled, ‘Sire, I am always and ever ready to subject myself to your law, justice, and rule.’”
“What next?” Kate asked, deeply distressed. She and Cranmer had become friends since her arrival at court.
“His Majesty looked down upon the heap of bishop and asked, ‘Think you to have better luck that way than your master, Christ?’”
At this, the room gasped.
“And then His Majesty did a complete turn,” Tristram recounted. “He held out his ring to Archbishop Cranmer and told him that when the council came to arrest him, he should show them the ring and all would be well. It’s been said that the investigation of Cranmer and his circle had been going on for months, and at the behest of Bishop Gardiner and his nephew.”
At this, Lady Temple glanced at Lady Matthews and scowled. I well remembered that Temple’s son was in the service of Bishop Gardiner, Cranmer’s enemy. Henry counted both bishops, of opposite leanings, as friends and confidants. I recalled the game of chess in which the Lady Elizabeth had bested me. Her father well knew how to play his pieces against one another.
Kate leaned over and whispered something to the Duchess of Suffolk.
By March, Gardiner’s nephew died the ignoble death of a traitor, hanged from his neck like a rooster at market.
The queen’s earnest business did not only involve religion. Parliament was meeting at Whitehall. She frequently dined with the king in her quarters, and I or Dorothy was sometimes there to assist her greater ladies, as Margaret Neville was often unwell.
His Majesty sat at the head of the table. “I am pleased to see that Your Grace passed the Christmas and New Year’s holidays with your illustrious children,” Kate said. Her carver was Thomas Seymour’s brother, specially chosen, and he hovered nearby to slice more of His Majesty’s venison if required.
“’Tis you we have to thank, sweetheart,” he said. “Never was a wife more bonny and buxom in bed and at board.” He indicated the fine spread before him and I glanced down at the intimate reference to their private life. That was the oath that Kate had taken upon her wedding, and although the nuptials were not what she had wanted, she had remained true to her vows. The king glanced up at the carver and indicated that he desired more meat. “How does your brother?” His Majesty asked him.