“When my brother, Hugh, was a boy, and even older than you two be, I would oft tell him the story of St. George. Should you care to hear that?”
“Oh, yes, please!” they cried out, and Lady Rosemary looked at me with pleasure and nodded her head in approval.
“Now, the good knight had fought well, and when he was finished, he sought to return to his noble home. But the path home was thorny, and a difficult climb up hill after hill. So he decided to draw his horse aside for water and when he did—”
“He spied the townsfolk in distress!” Stephen called out. His mother shushed him with a look.
“You are correct,” I said. “And they bewailed the terrible fate that had befallen the maidens in their town, a fate that no one could halt.”
“Except for Saint George,” Oliver added wisely. It was not difficult to see which was the older son. I wondered if he and Stephen wrestled, or did Oliver and Jamie, as the Seymour brothers did.
Just as I finished the story, the joust began. They were meant only for display, so there were no true winners. But I held my arms close about me in a tight embrace and fervently thanked God that I had, at least once in my life, had a man ride for my favor.
Late that next night, the Countess of Sussex, who was staying with my lady for the festivities, knocked on my chamber door. My hair was already undone and I was in a dressing gown. I had dismissed the serving girl and therefore was alone.
“Countess,” I said with a short curtsey. “I am sorry to greet you whilst I am disheveled.”
“It matters not,” she said. “May I come in?”
I opened the door wide and indicated that she should take the better of the few chairs by the waning fire.
“I shall make my visit brief, mistress. But in the days ahead I do not know where your lady’s household shall be, nor if I shall be oft in her company. But you will be. And I must tell you of a dream I have had given me.”
I sat down next to her. “Go on.” It was strange that I, an unknown mistress of little account, would press a countess to speak.
“I began first to dream, like Joseph in holy writ, of fat cattle, and then thin. You shall recall that he was given a prophetic dream of seven fat cattle, which meant seven years of prosperity, followed by seven lean, which meant seven years of difficulty.”
“Yes,” I said. “I do recall.”
“The cattle in my dream numbered five. Five fat cattle. And then they were slaughtered, one by one. At the last, Potipher died.”
I shook my head, not comprehending. “Forgive me, my lady; I do not understand your meaning.”
“There shall be but five years before the king dies,” the countess said directly.
I stood up, shocked at her pronouncement, and then sat down again before whispering, “Be you sure? And then the Lady Mary shall be queen?”
“Seems likely, though that were not given to me,” she said. “But if it is true, we can expect a return to the burnings like Anne Askew’s for all who believe as she did. The Lady Mary was quietly, but clearly, supportive of those measures.”
I sat silently afore speaking. “Prophesying or predicting the king’s death is treason punishable by death.”
“Yes,” she said.
“I do not want to know this,” I replied firmly.
“I do not either,” she answered bluntly. “But ’tis not our prerogative to choose, is it, mistress? I have been compelled to whisper it into a few ears. Keep the information to yourself and pray about how you are to use it.”
She stood up and nodded her head in my direction, though her tone was kindly. “I bid you a good eve.” She took her leave and closed the door fast behind her.
It may be forestalled. After all, nothing has yet come of the dreadful vision of Lord Thomas harrying the Lady Elizabeth to her extreme discomfort and compromise.
THIRTEEN
Early and Late Spring: Year of Our Lord 1547
Somerset House
Chelsea
Baynard’s Castle
The Duke of Somerset, Edward, Thomas’s newly titled brother, held a grand celebration at his enormous and extravagant household on the river Thames. I had some fear about attending, but then I remembered that the duke was unlikely to invite lesser members from the household of Gardiner, his enemy, and I felt more at ease. John Temple would not be in attendance.
I arrived with others of Kate’s household and was seated for the many-course meal. After we ate, the Duke and Duchess of Somerset had music and dancing such as was never seen outside of court. The king, still a child, had long been put abed. Kate, as queen dowager, was the highest-ranking woman in the room and so danced first, with her host. After Kate danced with the duke, she danced with his brother, the lord high admiral, Thomas Seymour.
I hoped that Jamie, as a colleague of Thomas Seymour, would be in attendance. I wished I didn’t care, but I did. I had dressed with care in case he attended, in a gown of rose shot with gold and had worn a strand of pearls. On my finger I wore a matching band of gold and stone.
I felt a hand upon my shoulder from behind and heard his voice as he sweetly spoke my name. “Juliana.”
I turned to face him.
“You will have, I am certain, noticed that I am alone and not surrounded by peach flesh?” Jamie pressed a tease. “Should you care to dance?”
I let him kiss my hand and lead me out; we danced and talked, and whilst I tried to refrain from flirting with him and offering undue affection, he drew it out of me like a lodestone to iron shavings hour after hour. He most certainly did not smell of armor then, but of musk and spice and faintly of mead. I could not but laugh and talk and pleasure in his company for hours.
“I am well pleased to see our relationship restored to one of joy and ease,” he said. “After I last visited your home I was uncertain that you were still pleased with my company. I should like to speak with you privately,” he said insistently as the night grew late and the guests retired.
I hesitated. I knew where the conversation would lead and I did not want to hurt him. It might be that he’d press his suit here if need be, though, so perhaps it would be better to speak with him in private. “A suite of rooms has been provided for the queen dowager and her household.” I told him where to meet me, and said he might find me there in thirty minutes.
I made my way down the long hallway and, once there, was gladdened that the servants were well trained and that my fire was still lightly stirred on this cold night. I pulled the chairs near to it and poked the embers myself afore throwing in a pack of sticks and one large log. Shortly thereafter, a knock came on my door.
I stood for just a minute, crushed in spirit, and thought how different this might have been if not for John Temple. I walked to the door and opened it and he grinned. “May I come in?”
“Yes, of course you may.” Once I closed the door he took my hand in his. I let him hold it for but a moment and then withdrew it. “Please, have a seat.” I struggled to keep my voice cool and my manner aloof, berating myself for my inability to do that earlier in the evening, disallowing myself the sheer joy of reveling in his company, which had given him false hope. He, among all people, was the one I cared for most and therefore wanted least to hurt.
Jamie sat down. “My nephews gaily recounted your telling of St. George whilst they waited yesterday,” he said. “It was their first joust. My brother thinks it’s time they become men,” he said with a twinkle in his eye. “Both boys were besotted with you.”
“Seems only right, since you gifted the book to me, that I share the story with your kin.”
His face looked a little bewildered at my unseemly remove, I guessed, but I could not change that. It would do more harm than good to act otherwise.