by Deryn Lake
‘Remember to whom you speak,’ she answered, all fire and ice. ‘I’ll have no disrespect from you, Lord Admiral.’
‘By Christ,’ said Thomas savagely, ‘you are an evil little bitch! I’ll disrespect you as much as I please.’
Her hand, strangely long and thin, shot out and delivered him a smarting blow on the cheek. ‘Never, do you hear me,’ she whispered fiercely, ‘never speak to me like that again.’
Thomas caught her wrist, bending her arm back painfully. ‘You wait,’ he said, but that was all. They wanted each other too desperately to waste one more word. With a movement like flight she was in his arms, straining her body against his, eager for anything he might do to her. At long last they kissed as adults, the days of childhood and romping dead and buried. As her lips parted beneath his and their uncontrollable desire was translated into sensation both of them knew that they were found and lost, that the end of all this longing must, of necessity, be cruel.
And that was how Katherine found them, kissing hungrily, greedily, like beggars at a feast. She turned into the yew walk from the chapel and stood transfixed, her face growing pinched, her eyes dark. At that moment the devout and pious Queen was an avenging angel, and dangerous.
‘You wretch,’ she screamed and rushing up to Thomas hit him hard upon the nape of his neck. He fell back, half in surprise, and Elizabeth was released from his grasp.
‘And as for you,’ said Katherine, relishing the moment as the girl’s face went ashen and her eyes widened to twice their size, ‘you are an ungrateful slut, not fit to be here. And think not that you will complain of your treatment to your brother, Madam. For His Grace the King and the Lord Protector shall be the first to know how you came creeping like a whore around my husband and your reputation, not good now, will drop even lower.’
‘No!’ gasped Elizabeth. ‘You wouldn’t …’
‘Oh yes I would,’ replied Katherine. ‘People speak evil of you already and will do so doubly in future. And I shall take the greatest pleasure in repeating to you everything they say. Now begone. You must be out of my house, you and your servants, by tomorrow morning.’
It was pleasurable. She who never lost her temper obviously inspired awe when she did. Elizabeth sped into the castle as if the Hound of Hell was coming after her.
Katherine turned to Thomas. ‘How could you?’ she said quietly. ‘How could you, the father of the child I carry, do this to me?’
‘Very simply,’ he answered, with an attempt at noncholance. ‘The girl quite literally threw herself at me. I would never have believed such profligacy possible.’
‘You’re lying!’
‘If that is what you believe, then so be it. But I tell you Henry Tudor’s daughter has an appetite as insatiable as once did he.’
And with that Thomas bowed politely and walked away, not to Sudeley but towards the open countryside, leaving the Dowager Queen of England standing forlorn and alone.
Chapter Thirty-Eight
The summer had been hot, stifling, almost too much to bear for a pregnant woman not in the first flush of youth, whose peace of mind had been shattered abruptly, her physical well-being deteriorating as a result. Throughout the searing days Katherine had sat in the shade of Sudeley’s mighty trees, wishing that the little knave would come into the world, yet knowing that she must wait till later in the year, certain that the babe had been conceived during that last sweet winter at Chelsea, when Elizabeth had still been a child and Thomas a faithful husband.
Katherine had forgiven him his indiscretion within days, unable to bear the mortified expression and air of wounded injustice. He had marched back from his walk later that evening, martyred and hard-done-by, refusing to speak to a soul, including his wife.
‘I tell you the creature molested me,’ was all he had said as he blew out the bedside candle. ‘You may think what you like, Kate, but that is the truth of it.’
‘You should never have encouraged her in the first place. All those ridiculous familiarities at Chelsea. You should be ashamed of yourself. A man of your age!’
The snore that answered Katherine had been most unconvincing, but Thomas was refusing to admit a thing. And so he continued, pained and suffering, until at last the Queen had exploded with rage.
‘You are making me furious by this behaviour. Anyone would think it is I who offended, not the other way round.’
‘You have offended by thinking ill of me, who have loved you for so many years and waited so long and patiently to marry you.’
‘Which makes it harder for me to bear the fact that you betrayed me.’
A look of anguish crossed Tom’s face. ‘One kiss a betrayal? An amorous child accosts me and that is deceit? I see that I must leave Sudeley, Katherine. Where there is no trust there is no love and it is clear that you no longer love me.’
But she did, desperately, and that was the tragedy of it. Katherine had wept bitterly, running away from him to their bedroom, where Tom had eventually caught up with her. Lying on the bed beside her, he had taken her in his arms.
‘Listen, pretty Kate, it is you I love, not that red-haired witch’s daughter. I tell you, sweetheart, the girl is unbalanced. But what hope could she have with that heritage? Her father a lecher, her mother a whore. Thank God she has gone. I pray that I never set eyes on her again.’
‘But you will!’ said Katherine sensibly.
‘I will and I won’t. In future I intend to look right through her for the evil slut that she is.’
‘Do you mean it?’
‘Of course I do. I adore and cherish you, and I intend to show Madam Elizabeth she had better keep her distance or answer for the consequences.’
It was all bluster and bravado, big words meaning little, but Katherine was deceived, or allowed herself to be. She loved Tom too well and needed him too much, now that she was pregnant and old to bear a first child.
‘Then kiss me,’ she had said, ‘and we will be friends again.’
His face lit up. ‘Oh please, darling. I cannot bear it when you are angry. Let us go to Hanworth for a few days and forget this trouble.’
They had left Sudeley almost on the heels of Elizabeth, who had gone barely a week before, trotting off in the summer sunshine with her retinue, not even turning her head to look back. Katherine had watched her from an upstairs window, half hating, half admiring the rigidity of the girl’s back. She might be leaving in disgrace but she was not showing it by the merest hint. The Queen had never seen the girl carry herself more proudly.
‘Good riddance,’ Katherine had said softly, but deep in her heart she had been unable to hate the foolish chit. Thomas at his most charming was a difficult man to contend with, she could hardly blame Elizabeth for loving him. And then, of course, with her usual brilliance, the Princess had made a counter move, writing a letter that twisted Katherine’s words and made a brave attempt at righting the situation.
‘Truly,’ Elizabeth wrote, ‘I was replete with sorrow to depart from Your Highness, especially leaving you undoubtful of health, and albeit I answered little, I weighed more deeper when you said you would warn me of all evils that you should hear of me. For if Your Grace had not a good opinion of me you would not have offered friendship to me that way, that all men judge the contrary. But what may I more say than thank God for providing such friends to me.’
Very clever, thought Katherine. So I am now your friend!
But the days at Hanworth, almost like a honeymoon, had revived her spirits and when Tom left for Court, attempting yet again to retrieve her jewels, he wrote to her sweetly. Katherine read the letters many times, smiling at one in particular and at the way Tom signed it.
‘And so I bid my most dear and well-beloved wife most heartily to fare. From Westminster, this Saturday, the 9th of June. Your Highness’s most faithful loving husband, T. Seymour.’
‘Faithful and loving,’ said his wife to herself and was almost reassured.
They had returned to Sudeley Castle in late Jun
e and spent a few idyllic weeks together before, very suddenly and without warning, Thomas announced that he must go to London to see the Protector.
‘But why?’ Katherine had asked suspiciously.
‘To sort out this business with the Council.’
‘What business with the Council? Thomas, what have you been up to?’
Her husband had put his booted feet on the chair opposite him and closed his eyes wearily.
‘I asked the King to intercede in the matter of your jewels. The prats concerned did not take kindly to that and sent word to attend ’em. But I didn’t go.’
‘What!’ Katherine had exclaimed in horror. ‘You refused to answer a summons from the Privy Council of England?’
Thomas opened one eye and grinned. ‘Yes, my dear. I said I was too busy.’
His wife had not known whether to laugh or cry. ‘What did they reply?’
‘That unless I explained everything to the Protector — my beloved brother who likes to keep all the power to himself — I would be put under arrest.’
Katherine had sat down heavily. ‘Oh Tom, why do you take such terrible risks?’
He had grinned at her, turning on his inexhaustible supply of charm. ‘Because I enjoy it, pretty Kate. As do you.’
‘I? Never.’
‘Did the woman who gambled everything to secretly marry the Lord Admiral not relish the element of danger?’ he countered swiftly. ‘Did our clandestine meetings not hold a certain spine-chilling thrill? Come on, admit the truth.’
Katherine had smiled reluctantly. ‘Well …’
‘Of course they did. Life’s a challenge, Kate, and by God’s precious soul I am going to wrestle with it. You knew that when you married me, so don’t complain now.’
‘I am not complaining. It is just that sometimes you make me very afraid.’
‘Nonsense,’ he answered, rising and crossing to where she sat. ‘The Protector will be putty in my hands, just as he always has been. I shall simply tell him I was too occupied with making love to my wife to attend the meeting.’
‘That should go down very well,’ answered Katherine grimly.
‘Yes,’ said Thomas cheerfully, ‘I expect it will. Even my brother has an eye for a pretty woman.’
Katherine shook her head slowly. ‘One of these days …’
‘I shall be Lord Protector, just you wait and see.’ And with that Tom pulled her from her chair and gave her a kiss. ‘We shall be the two most powerful people in the land.’
‘I don’t want power,’ Katherine protested.
‘We’ll have to face that when the time comes,’ her husband answered firmly.
*
The river room, as Edward Seymour always thought of his study, was alive with light, all the dartings and quiverings of the Thames reflected on its walls and the brightness of the sun, glancing off the surface of the water, beaming straight in so that the Protector, who sat with his back to the window, appeared completely in silhouette. Such an effect gave him a powerful and somewhat menacing look, of which Edward, with incredible naivety, was unaware, merely moving his seat round the desk so that the sun did not shine in his eyes. Had it been his brother Thomas in such a situation, he would have done it deliberately, sat like that all the time in order to overpower his visitors.
The fantastic palace of Somerset House being still under construction and Chester Place demolished to make way for it, Syon House was the temporary home of the ever-growing Seymour family. In the middle of July, Anne had produced a third son, much to her delight, as she now considered her childbearing duties done. But this being the season for the plague she had removed the younger ones to the country, out of danger, and the riverside house was quiet, only the servants remaining. By their own request, Jasper and Sylvanus, now both aged fifteen, had stayed behind in London with their patron.
The fact that the study overlooked the river had another advantage beside that of brilliant light. Any approaching vessel was audible and the Lord Protector, by going to his window, could see in excellent time all those who approached his landing stage. Now the steady pull of oars and the time of his clock, set in a little golden globe, told him that his renegade brother was approaching and, sure enough, a swift glance down to the Thames confirmed this. Thomas, garbed in clothes of a light tawny colour, heavily decked out with amber beading, was stepping ashore.
With his hair bleached summer-bright and grown long to his collar, a gold earring piercing his ear, and a hat with a large plumed feather which shimmered in the breeze, Thomas looked lion-like, everything giving the impression of a yellow mane.
Damn him, thought the Protector, he is too attractive for his own good.
And so he was! Even the ordinary people of England would cheer Thomas Seymour in the street, idolising his marvellous appearance and easy laughter, his enormous personality and common touch.
While they think me dry and hard as seasoned leather, thought Edward wryly.
And so they did! Though it seemed hardly fair that the brother who longed for reform, and fought for it too within the confines of the Council, whose aim was to better the people in every way, was the one they did not like.
Not that that matters particularly. It is the fact of the King favouring one uncle more than the other which is really difficult to contend with, the Protector considered bitterly.
He returned to the desk, deliberately bending over his paperwork so that when the knock eventually came he could be discovered busy. But Thomas, as laconic as ever despite the very real threat of his arrest and imprisonment, gave the merest tap and walked in without waiting for a reply, thus catching his brother staring at the door, slightly open-mouthed.
‘My dear Ned,’ said the Lord Admiral, sauntering forward jauntily, ‘how very nice to see you. Do I find the Lord Protector well?’
‘You find him very well,’ Somerset answered irritably. ‘Now pray sit down. We have a lot to discuss.’
The Admiral obeyed but not immediately, first giving the most immense and florid bow which entailed sweeping off the powerfully-feathered hat and brushing it almost to the floor.
‘Oh dear,’ sighed Somerset, inaudibly.
‘Where shall I sit?’ asked Thomas, deliberately difficult.
‘On the opposite side of the desk.’
‘But there the sun will shine directly into my eyes and I shall scarce be able to see you. If you have no objection, that great chair by the fireplace would suit very well.’
‘Then take it, please.’
‘Gladly, gladly,’ answered the Admiral, and arranged himself carefully within its oaken confines.
‘I have asked you here today …’ the Protector started, only to find that his brother was speaking at the same time.
‘I hear that Anne has been brought to bed of a goodly son. My congratulations to you both. How amazing, Ned, to think that you have fathered twelve children and I only one — that I know of, of course!’
‘It took me two wives to do it,’ answered Somerset drily.
‘Indeed, indeed. Whereas I married late and wisely.’
If there was a barb in that remark, the Lord Protector ignored it. ‘And how fares Her Grace the Queen Dowager? She must be drawing near her time.’
‘Dr Huick told her to expect the babe in August.’
‘Then I wish her safe delivery.’ Somerset cleared his throat and put the tips of his fingers together. ‘But it was not to talk of Her Grace that I summoned you, Tom. Had I not told the Council that I would speak to you personally, you would have been placed under arrest for failing to attend them.’
Thomas crossed one elegant leg over the other and Ned found his mind wandering, wondering how his brother’s hose never wrinkled when every other mortal’s did.
‘Yes,’ said the Admiral.
‘It is no good,’ snapped Somerset crossly, ‘pretending that this is a matter of no importance. Not only do the Admiralty accuse you of failing in your duty and increasing your yearly fee by £800, but the C
ouncil have evidence that you are trying to undermine my authority by open approaches to His Grace our nephew.’
‘I merely asked him to intercede in the affair of Her Grace my wife’s jewels, which are, Ned, her personal property and not the Crown’s.’
‘And that is all?’
‘No,’ answered Tom mildly. ‘I also suggested that I should be Deputy Keeper of the King’s Person rather than your brother-in-law, Michael Stanhope. There are those, Ned, who consider that too much power centred around one person is not always healthy.’
‘You are jealous, aren’t you?’ said Somerset coldly. ‘You want to be Protector, that’s the truth of it.’
For the first time Thomas looked uncomfortable. ‘No, I …’
‘Don’t lie,’ snarled his brother. ‘You are not content with being Lord Admiral, Baron Seymour of Sudeley, and husband to the Dowager Queen. You are merely aggrieved that you haven’t risen higher. I should have you arrested for treason. By God, I should.’
‘No,’ said Thomas, ‘that would not be right. I only felt that the care of our nephew should be shared between us, rather than between you and Michael Stanhope. If that was wrong then I apologise, Ned. I could never be Protector, it would mean too much responsibility for a man of my stamp.’
‘Indeed it would,’ answered Somerset heavily. ‘You, who consort with pirates and give yourself an increased wage when you want one, could never be trusted with our kingdom. You would bargain it away.’
He spoke with great bitterness and the remark was received similarly. Thomas visibly smouldered, his blue eyes darkening dramatically.
‘If any man other than my own brother had said that to me I would have smote him,’ he said furiously. ‘Ned, have a care. You go too far with me.’
There was a fraught silence and Somerset found himself thinking how odd life was. Thomas was the one who deserved a reprimand, yet it was he who now admonished the Protector.
‘I think,’ he said, after a pause, ‘that we are going too far with each other, Tom. I truly believe that for the sake of the King and the realm we must not quarrel like this. As far as I am concerned I am prepared to accept that you only approached His Grace our nephew about trivial matters and that, provided you assure me it will not happen again, I will recommend the incident be forgotten.’