Her lady maid went back to brushing her hair into an elaborate twist that would be tucked under a gold and ruby net. I opened the cupboard she’d indicated.
“Oh, my lady, ’tis truly more valuable a treasure chest than that which holds your jewels,” I said aloud. Then I looked up in alarm, hoping I hadn’t offended, especially since she’d just indicated her affection for jewels. I needn’t have worried. She laughed aloud as she was wont to do. I felt myself uncoil.
“You are right. Now choose well, as I haven’t much time.”
I looked them over. There was Roman de la Rose—a fable of romance! A bound copy of The Canterbury Tales. I felt compelled to reach for one of them but somehow I knew that my selection was a test. There was Tyndale’s translation of holy writ. Too simple of a choice. The Institutes of the Christian Religion, by John Calvin, was tempting because it was banned. I wondered if Lord Latimer knew it was there. Or if the king knew it was in Whitehall. I finally settled upon The Paraphrase on the Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Romans, by Erasmus of Rotterdam. I brought it to my lady and she smiled warmly.
“Excellent selection, Juliana. I should like to see it translated into English someday. Please read to me.”
I had read for about fifteen minutes when a page appeared at her door. I recognized him from Sir Thomas Seymour’s retinue. The boy handed a note to her.
“Sir Thomas is back at court?” she said.
I smiled when the manservant indicated that he was. Not only was Sir Thomas my patron in the lady’s household, he also traveled with Jamie. Kate saw my pleasure and nodded affirmingly.
“Er, m’lady.” The man looked about the room with caution. There was only myself and Kate’s lady maid.
“’Tis fine to speak freely,” Kate told him. Which meant I had earned her trust.
The man pulled a small box out of his pocket. “Sir Thomas asked me to deliver this to you too.” Kate opened it up, looked inside, smiled quickly, and then snapped it shut, a look of indecision on her face. She kept it in her hand and took on a slightly cooler tone.
“Thank you. Tell Sir Thomas I shall respond presently.”
The serving man withdrew and Kate took the small black box to the locked cupboard where she kept her forbidden books and then returned to the closet to finish dressing herself. I stood there, not sure what to do till she called out to me. “Please return Erasmus, Juliana, and then bring me the key. If you’ve no other commitments, you may accompany me to the Lady Mary’s apartments.”
If I had no other commitments! My heart soared. I was to meet a princess. Well, not a princess in title any longer. But we all knew that she was a princess of royal blood. ’Twas a singular display of affection for Kate to invite me, and Dorothy would never forgive me for it, but I would remember all the details to tell her, every word spoken, every gown chosen, so I could relay all when we stayed up, as usual, past dark, gossiping about the day.
I picked up Erasmus and lifted the cupboard lid. As I did, it tipped over Kate’s new little black box. Inside was a miniature portrait, the traditional gift to a beloved from sailors hoping to remain in their lady’s remembrance whilst they were away.
’Twas Thomas Seymour, of course, looking as dashing as ever with a feather in his cap, and appearing a bit arrogant. It unsettled me. I had not forgotten my vision, though it had blessedly not reappeared since I’d left home.
It was a short walk down a long hall to the Lady Mary’s. One of the men in her household opened up the door to her suite of chambers, and as he did, we entered upon a great center hall. The windows were tall and wide and let in the gray winter light. I watched rare snowflakes float like feathers to the ground. The Lady Mary stepped off the tailor’s stool and exclaimed in delight, “Kate!” She gathered her kirtle and went to greet Lady Latimer with a warm embrace.
I kept my eyes downcast, but through my lashes I took her in. She was twenty-seven years old, only a few years younger than Lady Latimer. Her hair was red, tempered with brown, and whilst she didn’t have Kate’s thin waist she was clearly not overfond of rich foods, either. You felt the circle of personal power around her; it moved as she moved. Mayhap that was royalty. She looked up at me and then asked in a rather stern voice, “And who is this?”
Kate’s voice was lightly submissive. “One of my maidens, my lady. She is come with me to court. I pray you have no objection to her accompanying me today. She can assist with the fabric draping.”
Kate threw a look to cue me. I curtseyed deeply and said, “Mistress Juliana St. John, my lady.”
Lady Mary looked at me as though she couldn’t decide whether I could help or she should dismiss me.
“My mother was a companion to Queen Jane,” I added, trying to gain her favor, wanting not to shame Kate for bringing me along. “In their youth.”
At that, Kate looked at me with surprise. Had I misspoken?
“Ah.” The Lady Mary broke out in a smile. “Queen Jane was a truly pious and good woman. Unlike the concubine she followed. Yes, yes, Mistress St. John. You may stay.” She clapped her hands in delight. “Let’s begin!”
The tailor opened up his cases and unwound roll after roll of fine fabric across the spectrum in color and texture. The Lady Mary and Lady Latimer spent several hours choosing fabric for hoods, pleats, and sleeves; I held the fabric along with the tailor as they draped it in the glass. A babe in his nurse’s arms could not have been better contented than I. The Lady Mary brought out her jewel cases so that they might choose which of her finer pieces would be set best against certain fabrics. Kate had an unerring eye and the Lady Mary showered her with affection for her friendship and her help.
The next week, a manservant presented a bill to Lady Latimer for the fabric and work in process. Lady Herbert took it to Kate and Kate scribbled, “For your daughter,” on it and had it sent to the king.
I thought that overbold at the time, and even more so the next week when we returned to the Lady Mary’s chambers.
The women were playing cards and Dorothy had just waved to me to join her at a table with some of the Lady Mary’s maidens when all talk and play came to an abrupt halt.
The Lady Mary stood and curtseyed. “Your Majesty.”
King Henry strode into the room and as he did, every knee bowed and every head tilted down till he passed. He greeted his daughter with kisses and then the air swirled around us as he passed by and stood in front of Lady Latimer.
“Your Majesty,” she said. Her voice was soft and pliant but not subservient, and after she curtseyed she brought herself up to her full height, which was not inconsiderable, and smiled at the king.
“So we have you to thank for this?” The king held out the tailor’s bill of sale.
“Yes, sire. The bill was mistakenly sent to me, as the tailor’s assistant had somehow believed that the gowns were being commissioned for me. I have helped to array your daughter in the manner that will bring honor to her father,” Lady Latimer said with a grin. “At your command, of course. And thus sent the expenses on to you.”
At that, the king broke out in a loud laugh. “Yes, dear Lady Latimer. It was perfectly right to do so.” The rest of us finally exhaled. He drew Kate aside and they sat in front of one of the large windows. We returned to cards, but because the room echoed well we could hear their conversation.
“How does Lord Latimer?” the king asked. He stretched his bad leg out in front of him; the Lady Mary had told us that it was causing him continual pain now as the ulcer upon it rarely closed and often oozed pus. Although he was extremely large, one could see a faint echo of the handsome man he used to be, a man who both drew and repelled, like a magnet turned this way then that.