Cor Rotto: A novel of Catherine Carey

by Adrienne Dillard

  “Jane, you must do what your heart tells you. But I will have no part in it.”

  I turned to look at the queen. She sat placidly before the fire, her eyes closed, while a musician played a lilting tune on the lute. Her lips curled into a smile. She was calm only because she had no idea of the pressure that was building around her. For her, ignorance was blissful. But like Jane, I too was terrified for her.

  Once we arrived at Hampton Court and the weather cleared, I resumed my daily visits with Richard. I loaded a basket with wine, cheese and bread, and we would ride out into the park to see the king’s stags. The young ones were in velvet this time of year and I delighted in watching them gingerly pick their way through the brush. Those were the happiest moments of my day. I felt feather-light when Richard wrapped his hands around my waist to lift me from the saddle, and every time his arm brushed mine, my skin erupted in goose bumps.

  I lay in bed, tossing and turning in frustration. I could not get Richard out of my mind. Not knowing how he felt was killing me. Katherine grunted beside me. “Stop moving, I am trying to sleep.”

  I decided to go for a walk. As quietly as I could, I dressed and covered myself in my cloak and crept out of the room, trying not to wake the other maids. The torches were still burning in the hall and I heard whispers in the dark corners. Lover’s talk, I thought to myself, and hastened down the corridor. I slipped out of the castle doors and crossed the garden to the stables. I was certain Richard was asleep in his own bed by now, but something compelled me onward.

  When I arrived, the light flickering in the open windows from the candles stopped me in my tracks, and for a moment I thought of turning back. Instead, I took a deep breath filled with the scent of fresh hay and strode confidently into the stables as though I belonged there. Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw him standing by the furnace, his back to me.

  “Richard?” I called out tentatively.

  He spun around, a look of alarm on his face. “Catherine! What are you doing here?”

  I walked towards him, hands outstretched for his. He eyed me warily, obviously confused as to why I had wandered into the empty stables in the middle of the night.

  I approached him slowly. “I could not stop thinking of you. I tried desperately to sleep, but all I could think of was the scent of your skin and the sound of your voice. I want to spend all of my days with you. Richard, please put my mind at ease and tell me you feel the same,” I said hopefully.

  Richard reached out and traced his hand down my cheek. “Of course I feel the same Catherine. I have been out here stacking hay all evening just to keep my mind off you.”

  Confused, I asked, “Why do you need to keep your mind off me? Do you not realise how happy I am with you? How I want nothing more than to be with you?” I closed my eyes and leaned towards him, wishing with all my heart that he would kiss me.

  “Catherine, I cannot do this,” he said, pulling his hand away.

  My eyes fluttered open. I could already feel the burn behind them, but I willed myself not to cry. “Richard, I know that we should not be together. My mother and William Stafford should never have been together either, but they ran away and did it anyway and they were eventually forgiven. We can do that too. My family would understand,” I pleaded.

  Richard took my hand and led me over to a bale of hay. The light from the fire in the furnace danced across his face. His eyes looked tired and for the first time I noticed the bags underneath them. He held my hand in his, tracing his finger across the palm of my hand. After a moment of silence, he looked up and said, “I cannot have you because you belong to someone else.”

  A searing pain spread across my chest and I lost my breath. The wind had been knocked from me. When I finally found my voice I whispered, “What do you mean?”

  “Catherine, you are the king’s daughter. He has found a husband for you and he is a good man. He will do right by you. He can give you a life that I never could,” he said wistfully.

  I was taken aback. How could he know I was the king’s daughter? Then I remembered the conversation between Lord Lisle and Stafford back in Calais and it dawned on me that the rumours had probably run rampant since I arrived at Court. It was impossible to deny the physical similarities and now that my cousin, the Lady Elizabeth, had been to visit, it was even more evident. She and I looked more alike than her recognised sister, the Lady Mary. My sadness turned to anger, and I leapt from my seat.

  “Who? Who has he chosen?” I spat out. I could feel my rage boiling to the surface. I could never choose anything. I would have to suffer the same restraints as Mary and Elizabeth, with none of the benefits of being recognised as a royal bastard. No household, no precedence, no dynastic marriage. I would always be under suspicion and the order of the king.

  Richard wrapped his arms around me. Stroking my hair he whispered, “Catherine, please be calm. I know that you are angry, but this is the life you have been given. The king has chosen a fine man for you. Since I have been at Court, I have come to know Francis Knollys. He is kind and generous. He is loyal to the king and, unlike the other men here, he does not connive in dark corners or play sides. He came to the stables today and as I prepared his mount he could not cease talking about you. He told me that the king is waiting for Stafford to come back to Court to tell you. I realised then that we would have to stop our visits.”

  I knew Stafford had gone to Cottered to help my mother move to Rochford Hall. My great-grandmother had died and she had finally received her inheritance. I had missed her since I left Calais and was looking forward to Stafford’s return because he would be bringing her with him. Now I knew why they would be making the journey to Court and I began to dread it.

  I leaned forward and kissed his cheek, the rough stubble brushing my lips, soft and swollen from my crying, and then I pulled away from Richard, though everything in my heart begged me not to.

  “I have to go,” I whispered. “I have been careless. If anyone found me my reputation would be in question.”

  Richard nodded sadly.

  The situation was hopeless. I tried to put on a brave face but I was dying inside. “This may be for the best. My love for you has made me reckless and I can’t bear to put you in danger. I must do as my father bids. I wish the best for you Richard, and I will always hold you in my heart.”

  I turned from him and ran back into the castle without looking back. I knew that if I did not leave, I would lose my resolve and I cared too much for Richard to put him in danger. I slipped quietly back into my bedchamber. Nan was snoring softly across the room, Ursula’s arm was hanging off the side of her bed, but my own was empty. Where a sleeping Katherine should have been there was a pile of pillows. It seemed that I was not the only one of the queen’s ladies to be slipping out into the night. I put my shift back on and climbed under the quilted counterpane. I tried to fight back the tears but they came anyway and eventually I found release in sleep.

  I spent the next few days in a haze. I went about my duties with all the other maids-of-honour, but my heart was not in it. Every evening that we ate in the great hall I scanned the faces, seeing if I could spot the man I was to marry. After three days of this, Nan Bassett elbowed me at the table.

  “What is the matter with you?” she whispered, concern written all over her face.

  “I will tell you later,” I murmured, straightening my posture and forcing a smile. I had to contain my sadness or I would be the subject of more rumours than my paternity.

  Later that night, Nan and Katherine cornered me as I readied for bed.

  “Catherine, are you all right?” asked Nan, arms crossed, foot tapping. “Why have you been acting so strange?”

  “Where were you the other night?” asked Katherine quietly.

  I yanked my muslin shift over my head. “I should ask you the same thing!” I shot back.

  Nan looked from Katherine to me, her eyebrow raised.

  “Oh, you know where she was,” Nan laughed. “She was with C
ulpeper.”

  Katherine buried her face in a pillow and made a little whimper.

  “See,” Nan said gesturing towards our bed.

  I padded across the floor. Sitting next to Katherine, I put my hand on her shoulder. “Where were you really, Katherine?”

  She raised her head, her hair cascading over her eyes. She raised her arm and brushed her golden curls from her face.

  “I was with the king.”

  The silence hung in the air. Suddenly, the focus was off me. Nan pounced on the bed like a panther on its prey.

  “What are you doing?” she demanded. “Why were you with the king? What about Queen Anne? We are all going to lose our place!”

  Katherine glared at Nan. “We are not going to lose our place. I have asked to have you as my ladies.”

  Nan and I exchanged a confused look.

  “Your ladies?” I asked

  Katherine sighed, exasperated by our questions. “Yes! My ladies. When I am queen, you will be my ladies. I have requested it, he has agreed, simple.”

  Nan sat up straight. “No, not simple. What is going to happen to Queen Anne?”

  “The king and the lord secretary are working on that. If Cromwell gets him his divorce, he will make him an earl. I am sure that is incentive enough. She was already pre-contracted to the Duke of Lorraine anyway. At least, that is what the king says.” She gestured towards me, “You know how this goes. If the king is unhappy, he finds a new bride.”

  “What about Master Culpeper?” I asked quietly.

  I saw the pain in Katherine’s eyes and I sympathised. The king had taken choice from both of us. The burden I had been carrying suddenly lifted when I realised that I would be married to a man that Richard said was kind and compassionate instead of an old, ill-tempered king. Another Katherine would bear the burden of my father now.

  “What can I do?” she moaned. “I must do as my king commands me. Uncle Norfolk is pleased beyond words. I could see the greedy look in his eyes when the king informed him of our impending marriage. The king made me come into the room with him to share the happy news when all I wanted to do was hide in shame. I love Queen Anne and I would never want to hurt her, but you know as well as I do that once the king decides he wants something he will do anything in his power to possess it. I cannot fight the inevitable.”

  I did know that side of the king well. He had possessed both my mother and my aunt, and now he was after my cousin. In a way I found it ironic that he was drawn to Howard women, especially because the first two had caused him so much trouble. Katherine was right. All she could do was bend to his will and hope that she satisfied him.

  For the moment, I was off the hook. Katherine’s revelations had shaken us all and my misbehaviour was forgotten. We quickly readied for bed and blew out the candles. Ursula, Dorothy and Mary would be back soon and we knew questions would be asked once they saw our emotional state.

  A week later, my mother and Stafford arrived at Court. I was out in the garden with Nan choosing posies for the queen when I saw them through the hedge. I picked up my skirts and ran as fast as I could, trying to avoid the puddles of mud. Mother swept me into her arms and for the first time in years I was enveloped in a scent that was not lavender. I stepped back and looked her over. She had become plumper. Her cheeks were rosy and she was smiling.

  “No more lavender?” I asked

  She gave a light laugh, “No, my dear Catherine. Being back at Rochford Hall has been the best sleeping draught I could have.”

  I lunged forward and wrapped my arms around her again. I took a deep breath, soaking in her happiness.

  “Ladies, if you will...”

  I pulled myself away and turned to see Stafford waiting for us, a wide grin on his face.

  “You’re right,” I sighed. “I have to get back to the queen, but I will see you both tonight.”

  Stafford nodded. “We would like to request your presence at supper in our rooms if the queen will allow it.”

  I felt a catch in my throat, but I tried not to show it. They must want to share the news of my match tonight.

  “Of course, Master Stafford, I will be there.”

  I made my way back to Nan, who had a bouquet of yellow and white daisies in her hand.

  “Your mother is at Court?” She asked incredulously. “I never thought she would come back here. They must have something important to tell you.”

  I ignored her comment and pretended to be interested in a ladybird that had landed on my hand.

  She stood staring after them. After a moment, she took a sharp breath. “Wait! You know, don’t you? That is why you were so sullen last week. They have found you a husband haven’t they? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  I put my finger to my lips, “Nan, please keep your voice down. I don’t know what is going on, but I am sure they have. That is why I was sent to Court - or requested I suppose - since the king did ask after me. I will tell you after supper.”

  Nan nodded solemnly and we headed back to the queen’s rooms. Lady Rutland and Lady Rochford had already interrogated Queen Anne on her maidenhood and it was obvious that she suspected that something was amiss in the king’s behaviour. Instead of her usual calm, she had become suspicious of us all. I knew the flowers would cheer her and I hoped they would improve her mood.

  That evening Stafford and my mother carried on about how delighted they were in the king’s choice of husband for me. Francis was a Gentleman Pensioner. This meant that he served as one of the king’s own body guards. His father, Robert, had died when he was young and his mother, Lettice, was married for the third time. He had been granted the estate of Rotherfield Greys in his home of Oxfordshire and I would be travelling there next month to be married.

  My mother would stay here to help me prepare and then travel with us by carriage. I had expected the revelation of this information, but it was still a shock to me to realise that within a month’s time I would be someone’s wife. I went back to my room hopeful for my future, but in the back of my mind I was terrified. It would not be long before I was a mother. What if I did not know what to do? I knew that we were born to be wives, give birth and raise children, but what if, like Anne, no sons came? I had seen that love could exist in a marriage, but not all men treated their wives as kindly as Stafford. I tried to have faith in the choice that the king had made, but I spent many sleepless nights waiting for my wedding day.

  PART II

  My Lady Wife

  Oxfordshire, Rotherfield Greys:

  April 1540

  The road to Oxfordshire was wet and muddy with the spring rains, making the carriage bounce and shudder the five hours it took to get there from London. By the time we arrived, I was exhausted and nauseated. My mother could tell I was not feeling my best and sent our page on to Greys Court to let my future family know that we would spend the night at the local inn so that I could rest before I met them. I wanted to make a good impression and with the sorry state I was in, that would be impossible.

  Mother called for a wooden tub and hot water. Exhausted, I climbed in. The hot water reddened my skin and as I lay back against the stiff boards and closed my eyes, I felt relaxed for the first time in weeks. Mother poured rosewater down my back then rubbed my hair clean with linen rags. I felt like a child again, bathing before the fire at Calais, as if all my troubles were far away. After I dried and put on a new linen shift, she braided rosemary into my hair to perfume it overnight. Though it was still light out, I crawled into bed and slept until morning.

  I awoke to the sounds of hoof-beats outside my window. I wondered who it could be. Stafford had been sent on an errand for the king so we did not expect him until the afternoon feasting. It made me sad to think he would not witness my wedding. He had spent more time in my life, guiding and caring for me, than both of my supposed fathers, the king and William Carey, but what could be done? For a moment I panicked, thinking it was Francis coming to take me to the chapel. I buried myself beneath the counterpane as soon a
s the door flew open.

  “Catherine, get up! You have a visitor!” my mother called.

  I peeked out from under the blanket.

  “Who is it?”

  “Why don’t you come and see for yourself?” she said with a mischievous grin.

  I swung my feet out and, still in my shift, padded into the hall.

  Stafford and my little brother were leaning casually against the wall.

  “Henry!” I shouted and ran towards him, arms outstretched.

  “Sister!” he yelped as I squeezed him tightly.

  I stepped back and eyed Stafford suspiciously. “I thought you were delivering a message for the king?”

  He laughed. “I was, to Sir John Russell. I could not leave without Henry. He begged me to take him.”

  My brother had been under the care of Sir John since his tutors had gone back to France. I was so pleased to see him after all this time. He had grown since I last saw him. Now he was as tall as Stafford. His shoulders were broad and sturdy. When his face relaxed out of his smile it was as if I was seeing William Carey come back to life.

  “Well, I am so glad you both could make it. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a wedding to prepare for.”

  I swept back into my room leaving Stafford and Henry to chatter in the hallway.

  Once I had finally dressed I took a moment to look myself over in the mirror. My bodice was made from dark green velvet and covered with a kirtle in a lighter shade that was trimmed in seed pearls and edged in gold rope. The sleeves were slashed showing the fine white linen underneath. I blushed at the low cut of the bodice as I fingered the jewel at my throat. It was a single emerald pendent, a wedding gift from my mother. It was the first jewel she had received from my father when she became his mistress. A matching hood held back my auburn hair worn loose down my back. I brought a few strands to my face and breathed in the clean scent. My mother’s reflection came into view.

  “Are you ready, my lady?” she smiled.