The Lady Carey

by Anne R Bailey

  “He thought of himself as overly great?”

  Catherine could have laughed if she wasn’t nervous to be sitting before their scrutiny. “He always thought of himself as a powerful Lord of the realm. If he plotted anything more I was not aware. He didn’t think much of me except as a poor relation, and I have not spoken to him since I left the service of my cousin.”

  “And during your time at court? What did he have you do?”

  Spy. Lie. Catherine bit her tongue. “I reported to him what happened in the Queen’s rooms. Such as if she was in good health or who she had seen. But he mostly turned to Lady Rochford for information or plotting.”

  They had a few other questions too, but she had not been witness to the events they asked her about. The men made their notes and nodded.

  “Very well, Mistress Knollys, that is all for now.”

  Francis waited outside the chamber for her to emerge.

  “You look a bit pale,” he said anxiously.

  “It’s not every day I am questioned.”

  By the end of the week, Catherine had a better grasp on understanding just what her uncle had done. His eldest son had taken the arms of Edward the Confessor as part of his personal heraldry. This was to bring attention to their royal lineage, something that Henry Tudor would not tolerate.

  As it turned out, she was among many who gave evidence against her uncle. Even his wife, daughter and mistress had been quick to volunteer evidence. It came as no surprise when he was imprisoned in the Tower and sentenced to death.

  His son, who was arguably more guilty, was beheaded a day after the sentencing, but her uncle, who pleaded and gave his lands and titles freely to the King in exchange for his life, was temporarily spared.

  “Why do I get the feeling he will escape?” Catherine shivered as they rode away from London. If he ever escaped he would know her for an enemy now.

  Riding beside her, Francis was skeptical. “I don’t think he will. The King signed his death sentence.”

  She should have placed a bet with Francis for she would have won.

  Before the sentence could be carried out, her true father King Henry Tudor died and the previous Duke of Norfolk languished in the Tower.

  There was more rejoicing at the King’s death than sorrow. In his later years, he had become a tyrant to his people. His rule had failed to be the Golden Age he had promised in his youth.

  Now they were celebrating the coronation of his young son Edward and the end of Henry and his spies.

  “These will be uneasy times,” Francis predicted. “King Edward is too young to rule on his own and the council will fight over who will control him.”

  “We shall stay away from it all, won’t we?”

  “Until it is safe. The only way forward for our family is through the court. We need the fees and to make new allies. One day our children will have to marry, and I don’t want them to marry into the families of our tenants.”

  “I did not think you had such ambitions for them.”

  “I know you have them as well.” He gave her one of his brilliant smiles. “The world is changing. It won’t be like it was before, where the King is ready to execute innocent men and women on a whim.”

  Francis had been right for a time. But corruption was rampant in the court as the council took advantage of the King’s young age to snatch up fees and taxes without paying them into the royal treasury. The King was on the constant brink of bankruptcy. Anne of Cleves, who was still living at Richmond, was no longer paid her yearly allowance and she had been instructed to vacate the palace. They moved her to a more frugal residence — Penshurst Place, where the exchequer paid her living costs but she had little money of her own now.

  She wrote dryly to Catherine that she was reduced to bargaining in the markets for cheaper prices and had taken to eating fish more often. She assured her that this was not from religious fervor but rather from practicality.

  Catherine could do little to help her old mistress. Her husband, who was now widely known as a Protestant, had been given a place in the privy chamber but he was never paid his due. The exchequer simply forgot, he explained to her.

  There was no reason to complain. At least he could collect bribes and fees from people to make introductions. So she too was reduced to living off their lands. Despite her endless stream of pregnancies, she traveled between Reading and the lands they held in Oxfordshire to make sure they were reaping all they could from the land.

  They still had it better than some.

  The Prince, who had been raised so strictly in the Protestant faith, sought to impose it on his people. There were frequent uprisings, especially in the summer after a crop failure or when he had tried to institute a bible written in English. They had been thankfully put down, but the unrest in the country was only growing.

  While Francis rode out to fight for the King, Catherine remained at home trying to keep their servants and tenants loyal. She made no secret that she would report any disloyalty and would not tolerate it in her home.

  In her secret heart, she prayed for better times. Her children were growing up in tattered clothing that she could not afford to replace, and they were without the proper education they should have been receiving. Catherine told herself it was better to be frugal now and get them clothes when they would go to court or were fully grown, but it hurt her to think they were failing to provide for them.

  In the summer of 1553 rumors began circulating that the King had fallen seriously ill. Catherine paid them no attention until her husband confirmed it. She prayed for his recovery as she thought of a bleak future with the Catholic Princess Mary on the throne. Mary was likely to try to undo all the changes her brother had brought to the country, and that would only mean more fighting.

  Catherine wasn’t the only one to think this. Secretly, the councilors worked to persuade the King to change his father’s will. In an effort to make sure Princess Mary would not inherit, they disinherited her and the Lady Elizabeth in favor of Jane Grey.

  On the death of the King, just six years after he had come to his throne, the Lady Jane Grey was proclaimed Queen.

  The people of England felt cheated and would not stand for what they had seen as injustice. It was not a matter of religion to them. Princess Mary, who at first was chased after by Dudley’s army, was now doing the pursuing. She was sure to march in London and take her rightful place as Queen any day now.

  Francis rode out with his tenants in support of the Princess as well. He was doing his duty to the country, but he was also not welcomed by the Catholics. Catherine begged Francis to return home, and, when he finally complied after Mary’s coronation, he arrived home like a defeated man.

  “I have a letter from your cousin, the Lady Elizabeth.” He pressed the letter in her hands.

  “What does it say?”

  “She asks if we shall remain loyal to her come what may.”

  Catherine did not hesitate. “Of course. But what is going to happen?”

  “Queen Mary has come to her throne, but Elizabeth is worried that their differences in religion will cause problems.”

  Catherine’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “They would fight over religion?”

  “She has spoken to me in confidence that she will never relinquish her faith, but her sister might disinherit her or worse.”

  Catherine crossed herself. “Mary Tudor wouldn’t dare.” She remembered her as a sweet tempered woman who was generous and kind.

  “She has become hardhearted.”

  “Can she just not pretend to convert?”

  Francis gave her a piercing look and she looked away. He disapproved of her light take on religion, but she could not help herself.

  They moved from Oxfordshire back to Reading to be closer to London and stay abreast of the news from the city.

  Mary and her army’s arrival had led to much acclaim and celebration in the city. The citizens of London were cheering in the streets as her makeshift court of loyalists followed beh
ind her.

  Lady Jane Grey was imprisoned in the Tower to await Mary’s judgement and plans for a grand coronation were underway.

  Francis told her how the Lady Elizabeth had ridden out to greet her sister and was present alongside the Lady Anne of Cleves at her half-sister’s coronation. The people of London had also cheered for the Queen’s pretty younger sister. This did not win her any friends among Mary’s courtiers. Some of the Catholics commented wily that she had waited until the last possible moment to declare her friendship.

  The Queen was beginning to roll back the clock on the changes made by her brother and even her father, though there was no formal declaration of a return to Rome. There was no official change to the law, but images of Saints reappeared in churches, mass was conducted in Latin.

  Gold chalices and vestments were once again placed at chapel altars as slowly Catholic exiles began returning to their country of birth, happy to see the old faith returning.

  Francis fretted as these changes were being made.

  He would not be welcomed at court now, and he worried that the Queen would begin persecuting those she saw as heretics such as himself.

  When talks began of a marriage between Queen Mary and Prince Phillip of Spain, Catherine noticed her husband sequester himself away in his records rooms. He sent out letters every day, but, when she asked him, he would kiss her and tell her not to trouble herself.

  She was with child again. Her tenth. She was no longer young, being nearly thirty years old, but she was well practiced at this. So far, she had been blessed and her family proved to be fertile.

  Her brother had a growing brood of his own at Rochford. It puzzled her to think how the Tudors had struggled to produce children and especially heirs when it seemed to come so easily to her family.

  “We should go visit your brother at Rochford.”

  It was the start of summer, sickness was spreading and her belly had grown round. It was hardly the time to go traveling around the countryside. Her husband knew this, how could he suggest it?

  “That is ridiculous! We cannot.”

  The way he couldn’t meet her eyes made her instantly suspect something.

  “I sold this house,” he walked away from her as if to distance himself from her rage.

  She was stunned. “W-what? You can’t be serious! Our finances aren’t so bad. And our house in Oxfordshire?”

  “Gone. The sale was finalized last week.” Francis ran his hand through his hair. Strands of silver glinted in the sunlight.

  “Explain yourself immediately, or I swear I shall never speak to you again.” There was a pain in her chest. In their many years together, he had kept his promise and never lied to her. Now she discovered he had uprooted their life.

  “Catherine, I didn’t want you to be distressed.”

  She gave him a scathing look and tried to calm herself as the baby in her belly grew more agitated. He looked concerned and set out a chair for her. She pushed his arm away when he offered to help.

  “I kept some news from you, but only until I could discover more and figure out a plan.”

  “I could have helped you figure out a plan.” She shot back at him.

  “Hugh Latimer has been imprisoned and more shall follow. A friend in Parliament warned me that at her first parliamentary Queen Mary will restore the six articles of faith. She is also intent on the Spanish marriage, and her husband will surely bring the inquisition upon our heads.”

  Catherine’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion and a hand went to her stomach. “We will comply with the changes! Surely we cannot be accused of anything if we follow the law. You still haven’t told me why you had to sell the houses.”

  Francis came forward and knelt at her feet, taking her hands in his.

  “Wife, do you not know what the inquisition is like. I have been known as a supporter of reform for nearly all my life. Our neighbors will be quick to report me when it comes down to it. It won’t matter that I have recanted. There will be questions — and they shall not be afraid to use torture to get what they want. They shall purge this country of all true believers.”

  Catherine shook her head, refusing to believe. Had they not survived through the last chaotic years of King Henry’s reign? Had they not pinched and saved their way through King Edward’s reign?

  “They will not stop with me. They will come after you and the children. I hear reports of such dreadful tales from Spain. There is another thing. She has freed your uncle the Duke of Norfolk and returned him to his lands and titles. He will not forget that we gave evidence against him.”

  “You cannot know that this will happen. Mary was always so kind.” Catherine lost her conviction.

  “It’s already begun. I am not a blind man to ignore the signs. Just like the Catholics fled England years ago, so must we now.”

  This caught her attention. “You are planning for us to leave? Where would we go?”

  “Germany.” He was rewarded with a gasp of surprise. “The money from the sale of our lands will see us through.”

  “We cannot go so far!”

  “Your old mistress, the Lady Anne of Cleves did.” He gave her a reassuring squeeze of the hand. “It is a Protestant nation and the only place we can be safe. I have been writing to my connections there and to others here in England. We shall not be going alone, but go we must.”

  “When?”

  “Within the year, before the marriage takes place. They might close down the ports and prohibit travel. Don’t speak to anyone about this. Let the servants know we have been having money troubles and have had to sell. ”

  Catherine stopped him.

  “No, what if the marriage doesn’t take place at all? I’ve heard gossip as well. Her councilors are against the match and the lay people don’t want to see a Spanish consort on the throne of England. We’ve been at war with the Spanish off and on my whole life.” She took her hands out of his grip. “Besides, this baby will be too weak to travel. You must promise me we will wait. I will agree to go but not this year. Not until we are absolutely certain of the danger.”

  They regarded each other for several moments — Catherine daring him to object. He stood and she knew she had won.

  “Your brother has said he could house us in the meantime.”

  “It will take a while to pack away the house or did you sell our furniture too?”

  “I have not but we can only take so much. I shall let you decide.”

  “You are too kind,” she said sarcastically.

  They had an awkward week in which she could barely look at him without displeasure showing on her face. Word that they had sold their houses got around, and the servants were all worried about their jobs. They could barely contain their own bitterness towards them.

  The new owner might choose to employ other servants and they’d be out on the streets.

  Catherine blamed this on Francis who staunchly ignored the complaints.

  They would only keep the three nursemaids employed to help with the children. They were too young to be without constant supervision. Francis complained about the cost, but Catherine raised an eyebrow at him.

  She hadn’t made these children on her own.

  Chapter Fourteen

  By September, they had moved to Rochford. Their children thought this was a fun adventure; only their three eldest Mary, William and Lettice noticed something amiss with their parents. They were used to traveling between houses but never with great wagon loads of stuff to follow after them. They hadn’t seen their beds dismantled and packed away before.

  “Mother, when are we going home?” Lettice, who was the most outspoken finally, asked. Her elder siblings were hiding behind the door.

  “This shall be our home for now.” Catherine couldn’t lie to them but nor could she trust her children with the truth.

  “Are we poor relations now?”

  Catherine frowned. “Where did you hear that?”

  “George…” That was her brother’s son.


  “Well he doesn’t know what he is talking about. Don’t let him say such things. We are here temporarily and because my brother was kind enough to let us stay with him. Don’t forget you are the daughter of a well-respected knight.”

  “But he hasn’t been invited to court.”

  “Lettice, go play with your siblings. This is not something you need to worry about. Either of you.” She called out this last part.

  “I would like to go to court.” Lettice managed to say this but in a whisper, as if she was admitting her greatest desire.

  Catherine’s heart clenched in her throat. She too had dreamed of life at court.

  “I am sure one day you will attend court and be the most beautiful lady.” She patted her fair cheeks. Indeed, she was the prettiest of all her daughters and the one who resembled her Tudor heritage the most with blazing red-copper hair to match the Lady Elizabeth’s.

  “And me too?” Mary popped her head in through the doorway.

  “I am sure all my children will serve at court.”

  Later that month, as her husband had predicted, the Queen restored the church doctrine to the six articles of faith set down by her father, though there were rumors she wanted to do more than this. The nobles who had purchased church lands all feared that it would be taken from them, and the mood in the Kingdom was apprehensive even as the Catholics rejoiced.

  With Rochford so crowded by children, Catherine had her hands full just overseeing their tutors and the nursemaids caring for them. She had given birth to a daughter who had been baptized Anne.

  She stayed out of her brother’s wife’s way. Lady Anne Morgan had a fiery disposition and hated to feel that she wasn’t master of her own domain. If it had been up to her, she would have surely refused to house them, but Catherine’s brother had proved to be more than generous. He was the only one in the household that knew of their plans to go into exile.

  So many months had passed that Catherine was certain Francis would see the error of his ways. Cranmer had been imprisoned and executed too, but this was hardly the beginning of an inquisition.