Cor Rotto: A novel of Catherine Carey

by Adrienne Dillard

  I glowed at these words of love. I had always hoped to marry a man who would feel such affection for me and here he was sitting before me.

  “Francis, I have many more heirs to give you. I would never forsake you nor leave your side, even in childbirth.”

  He squeezed my hand. “Where is that boy of mine?”

  My mother must have been eavesdropping at the door because as soon as Francis’s words were spoken, she bustled in with a bundle in her arms and placed it in mine. I pulled away the blankets and found my angelic son wrapped inside. I could not help but stare at this miniature person we had created. Wisps of tawny hair stood out from his tiny head. His eyes were azure blue like my mother’s and his tiny rosebud mouth was pursed looking for my breast. I held his little hand on my finger and instinctively he tightened it into a fist. I was instantly in love. I knew I would do anything in my power to protect him and keep him safe.

  Francis climbed into bed with us and we sat together as a family, both of us in awe at the little life before us.

  I was the first to break the silence. “We will call him Henry in honour of our beloved brothers. May he have your brother’s compassion and kindness and my brother’s dedication to learning.”

  Francis squeezed us both into a hug. Then he said “You do realise the king will think we’ve given him a namesake?”

  I gave him a sly smile and raised my brow. “Well then, we will let him believe that we are obedient courtiers who name their first born for their monarch and the truth will be our little secret.”

  Baby Henry cooed in agreement.

  Francis spent a week with us before he was called back to Court. The night before he left I peppered him with questions about what I had missed and how Katherine was getting along in her new role.

  “The Lady Mary hates her,” he laughed. “Queen Katherine sent away her favourite ladies because she refused to show her respect in front of the court. Mary was livid and made an excuse to leave and has not been seen since.”

  “Poor Mary. She has been suffering for so long. The king’s marriage to my aunt Anne caused her so much pain and now after two kind and gentle queens, I am sure she believes she suffers at the hand of yet another dreadful Howard woman.” As much as I sympathised with Mary, I could not help but laugh. “Do you think I am a dreadful Howard woman?”

  Francis stared at me in mock surprise. “Of course not! Now you are a dreadful Knollys woman!”

  I shook my head. “I will show you dreadful.”

  Francis laughed and planted a kiss on my forehead.

  Then I turned serious. “Maybe I am blessed after all to be unrecognised as a royal child.”

  Francis nodded. “The queen has become very haughty and your aunt, Lady Rochford, is the first lady of her bedchamber. They are inseparable and sometimes insufferable. At New Year, Anne of Cleves came to celebrate at Hampton Court and paid much reverence to both the king and queen as if she had not been displaced by the silly woman mere months ago. The king took ill and is just now recovering from a serious fever. We all were petrified of his death with Prince Edward being barely out of the cradle, but he rallied and we were all relieved.”

  I sighed. “And soon I shall be back among the madness.”

  Francis leaned over and squeezed my thigh, “No, my lady. Soon you shall be back in my bed while I am among the madness.”

  I shook my head and kissed his cheek, my lips chafed at the stubble, “You are a shameful man.”

  “Ah, but I am your shameful man. Is it time for your churching yet?” He teased.

  “In good time, husband, in good time.”

  Leaving my son was as difficult as I had imagined. After three glorious months of morning cuddles and afternoon lullabies, I had been lulled into a sense of deep contentment. Harry, as we had begun to call him, would be in good hands with his uncle and the two nurses we had hired to watch over him, but I was not ready to part with him. Overcome with sadness, I waved goodbye from the carriage and headed back to the glittering Court that awaited me. My only consolation was that Francis would be waiting there for me as well.

  The Royal Progress to the North:

  June - October 1541

  I arrived at Court as preparations were being made for the annual summer progress. The plan had been to leave at the end of May after the king executed yet another threat to his throne.

  I was utterly disgusted at the execution of Lady Salisbury. I realised that, as the niece of Edward IV and distant cousin to the king, her sons would always have a possible claim to the throne, and that one of them, Cardinal Pole, was working with the pope against the changes the king was making to the church. But how much of a threat could their elderly mother be? And to be hacked to pieces by an inexperienced executioner was reprehensible. Margaret Pole had loyally served the throne since the reign of the king’s father and she deserved a dignified death.

  In the previous few months, my father had been at turns kind and jovial one moment, and angry and suspicious the other. We were all treading delicately but hoped that a few months on progress with his new queen would calm his temper. Around the same time as the execution, Katherine came down with illness and the roads were flooded from the recent storms. So much to the king’s disdain we left two weeks late. Every day of her illness one of the king’s advisers would visit the queen’s rooms to ask if we could expect a Duke of York. They were very disappointed when on the fourth day we informed them that her courses had arrived at their expected time.

  Francis had been accurate in his description of Katherine. She had become haughty and vain, but I could see sadness too. The king had provided her with every comfort she could want - vast wealth, lands and ladies to serve her in any way she commanded. Even in her sickness she had insisted upon wearing all of her newly granted jewels. But we could offer her no amount of comfort. The one person she wanted, Thomas Culpeper, was denied her.

  Lady Rochford was insufferable. As first lady of the bedchamber she had become the most important of the queen’s ladies, and as someone who had spent much time in disgrace, she savoured her new position.

  Once the queen had recovered from her illness, the court set out to the North so the king could inspect his lands. At Lincoln, our first stop, I learned what had truly been going on at Court during my absence.

  After we were settled in, Lady Rochford cornered me. In her hand she held a cramp ring.

  “I need you to deliver this to Culpeper,” she whispered conspiratorially.

  “I don’t understand. Why is the queen giving Culpeper a cramp ring? Is he suffering from some malady? He looked well to me yesterday.”

  She sighed impatiently. “You are so simple sometimes, Catherine. Never mind why. The queen can give whatever gifts she sees fit to her favourites. I just need you to deliver it.”

  I shook my head. “Jane, Culpeper should not be the queen’s favourite. You, of all people, should know that. The queen would do best to forget that her relationship with Culpeper ever happened. She has married the king and, besides, Culpeper has become dangerous. Francis told me about the incident with the park-keeper. Raping his wife and then murdering him when he came to save her. No, I absolutely will not deliver that to Culpeper and you would be wise to refuse yourself.”

  I saw the tears welling up in her eyes. She looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping and whispered, “You must help me Catherine. I am caught in a web and cannot escape.”

  Sensing her desperation, I looked around for an excuse to leave the room. Seeing the cramp ring gave me an idea. I murmured, “Pretend you have a cramp.”

  Understanding my ruse, she doubled over and cried out in pain.

  “Lady Rochford! What is wrong?” I exclaimed in mock concern, placing my hand on her back.

  Katherine looked up from her cards. “What is going on over there?” she called over her shoulder.

  “I am so sorry, Your Grace. Lady Rochford just mentioned that her supper did not sit well with her and now she seems to have
a stomach pain. I will help her to her rooms and fetch the doctor,” I replied.

  Katherine, still sitting, turned to face me. A look of suspicion crossed her face, but her eyes softened with concern when she saw Jane hunched over gripping her stomach.

  “Please do, Mistress Knollys. Thank you so much for your kindness,” she said. I could see the panic begin to rise in her, but she composed herself before anyone else noticed. “We shall enquire on you soon, Lady Rochford.”

  I wondered why Katherine would panic over Jane’s illness. Surely she had plenty of maids to serve her. I guided Jane to her rooms, keeping up the charade all the way down the corridor. When we were safely in her bedchamber, I blocked the door and stared at her expectantly.

  She threw herself on the bed. “Catherine, how could I have let this happen?”

  “What have you done, Jane?”

  “I have made terrible choices. I have become the queen’s liaison with Culpeper. At first it was just once, when the king took ill. The Queen panicked and thought he might die. She said she needed someone to protect her if that should happen so she asked me to call Culpeper to her rooms so that she could seek his assistance. I thought I was helping her. She looked so frightened. But then, once the king had healed, the visits continued and the queen begged me not to tell anyone. She said they were in love and as long as the king did not know about it, there could be no harm.”

  Exasperated, I threw my hands in the air. “Jane! How could you believe that? Your own husband and sister-in-law died for such offences. You should have encouraged the queen to stop. You should have refused her demands.”

  She gave me a shocked expression. “Catherine, I realise that you were raised very far from Court and you have been gone to Greys for some time, but you know that a command from the queen cannot be refused.”

  “You cannot refuse her to her face,” I spat out. “But you can refuse to put your life in danger. Go to Cranmer, go to Wriothesley. For heaven’s sake, go to Suffolk! You could do it discreetly. You should know. You have done it before.”

  Her face crumpled. “That is not fair, Catherine. Will you never forgive me for Anne and George?”

  “No, Jane, it is not fair. It is not fair that Anne and George lost their lives because they were wrongfully accused of doing what Katherine truly is. And instead of going to the king’s councillors you aid in her deception.”

  Jane got up from her bed and came to me. She gripped my hands. “Please, Catherine, do not go to the councillors. If the queen is found out, my life is in danger for helping her. She is your own cousin, would you see her head on a block?” She hung her head. “Can we truly blame her? We all knew she loved Culpeper before the king decided to take her for his own. “

  My indignation faltered. She was my family, but for that reason alone she should have known better. The Howards never forgot that the Boleyns had almost brought them down and they reminded us at every opportunity. It was easy to look down at her from the comfort of my marriage to Francis, but I too had been denied my first love. Perhaps if she had truly given the king a chance, she could have been happy and satisfied to be queen. The king certainly adored her and demonstrated it for everyone to see. Instead of accepting her new position, she had acted impetuously and put both her life and Jane’s in danger.

  “I will not go to the councillors,” I said softly. “But I will not be party to this dangerous deception. I will not deliver your cramp ring or any other gifts that the queen wishes to give to Culpeper and I will not help you get them alone. I will not actively seek her fall, but I will not lie when asked about her activities.”

  Jane nodded. After a moment she said thoughtfully. “You know why she looked so panicked back there?”

  I stared at her silently.

  “Because I am supposed to help her see Culpeper tonight. They are meeting in her close stool.”

  Disgusted, I shook my head and left the room.

  Francis tried his best to be intimate before bed, but I could not stomach the thought after hearing what the queen was planning with Culpeper.

  Frustrated, Francis lay down beside me. “Catherine, you are completely distracted. Have I done something to offend you?”

  His worried eyes broke my heart. “Oh Francis, you have never offended me!” I leaned over, kissed him and then lay my head on his chest.

  He stroked my hair. “Then please tell me what is wrong. You have never rebuffed me before.”

  I could not stop the tears from my eyes or the torrent of words that came from my mouth. Before long, the whole sordid affair was out. Francis was angry that Jane had tried to involve me. He wanted me to go to Suffolk, but I begged him not to force me. Finally he agreed. We would not go to the councillors until we were back in London. I knew this was a secret I could not keep for long and I could not bear to put my husband or son in danger. Francis wrapped me in his arms and we slept. His warm muscular body made me feel protected. It would pain me to leave those arms in the morning.

  We continued our progress through Pontefract, Stamford and York. We were greeted with crowds and great cheers. It had been such a long time since the king had shown his favour to the North and after the rebellions in the last five years he was eager to show his forgiveness. He was also demonstrating his strength and reminding his people that if they rose up again, they would be defeated as before. Katherine revelled in the attention and, just as I suspected, kept up her affair with Culpeper. Along the way she collected a new secretary. In August, a young man named Frances Dereham joined our party. He had known Katherine when she was living at Lambeth, long before she was queen, but I still distrusted his familiar behaviour towards her.

  “Why does Katherine allow this Dereham to speak to her as though she were a common washer woman?” I asked Nan as we sat in the garden enjoying the mid-summer sun. The roses were in full bloom and the heavy perfumed scent enveloped us. That scent always took me back to the gardens at Hever. I wondered if the garden had, once again, bloomed into a riot of colour and hoped that Anne of Cleves was taking full advantage of its beauty.

  Nan shook her head. “I cannot fathom. I have heard rumours that they were friends while Katherine was at the dowager duchess’s home. Maybe we should ask Mistress Bulmer, she lived with her at Lambeth. Though I suppose I would worry more about the amount of time she spends with Thomas Culpeper.”

  Stunned, I gave her a surprised look.

  “Oh Catherine,” she said. “Don’t act so surprised. We have all noticed the frequency of Master Culpeper’s visits and the coy way in which Katherine speaks to him. We are not blind. She flaunts it. I believe she thinks that she is safe because the king loves her so much. Let her believe that and sign her own execution warrant.”

  “Nan, are you not worried about being sent from Court? Lord Lisle is still in the Tower and your mother and sisters under house-arrest. Where will you go?”

  She smiled and patted me on the hand. “I have served my third queen in only my fifth year at Court. As long as we stay above reproach, there will be yet another queen to serve.”

  Then she guffawed. “If only the king had married me after Queen Jane. He would never have found himself in this mess.”

  “Nan, you would have made an excellent queen,” I said. I sincerely meant it.

  London, Hampton Court:

  November 1541 – February 1542

  The queen had been found out without my intervention. Archbishop Cranmer courageously presented the king with the evidence laid against his wife after a service in the chapel. The roar of anger escaping His Majesty could be heard throughout the palace. After a week of being locked up with his councillors, the king made haste down the Thames to Westminster so he would not have to look his queen in the face again. That was his way. No goodbye, no raging, no cold looks. He left Katherine just as he left her cousin that May morning five years ago, with no warning of what was about to befall her. He passed me in the corridor on his way to the river and I could see the red rims around his eyes. I fel
t pity for him. For once he was the victim. I wondered if he believed that this time God truly did punish him because he had spent so much time accusing the Lord of doing just that in his last marriages.

  Whatever love the king had for Katherine was gone now and she was treated accordingly. The yeoman guards set up outside her bedchamber and she became a virtual prisoner. The only ladies allowed to serve her were Lady Rochford, Mistress Tylney and Lady Rutland. I suspected that Lady Rutland and Mistress Tylney were there to spy on Jane and Katherine once I learned they had both already testified against her. As we shuffled out of Katherine’s rooms, the muffled sounds coming from the bedchamber grew from quiet murmurs to sobs and then wailing. The keening sound of Katherine’s cries echoed in my ears long after that night.

  I spent much of the next weeks pacing. Katherine had been sent to Syon Abbey to await her trial and Lady Rochford, Culpeper and Dereham had been dragged to the Tower. Dereham had taken Katherine’s maidenhead and believed they had been pre-contracted. It must have been quite the shock for him to come back to England and find that the woman he believed to be his wife was now married to the king, and he could not help promoting himself when the chance arose.

  The terror on Jane’s face as she marched out of the palace with the guards set me on edge. I sobbed when word came from the Tower that she had gone mad. I wanted desperately to visit her but Francis forbade me. As much as I wanted to comfort my aunt, I knew he was right. I was ashamed that after railing about the Howard and Boleyn families’ abandonment of Anne for so many years, I was now abandoning Jane. I was just as guilty as they were.

  Katherine was finally moved to the Tower after the expected pronunciation of guilt. In December, Dereham and Culpeper were taken to Tyburn to die. At the last moment, Culpeper’s sentence was commuted to beheading while Dereham suffered the most, being hanged, drawn and quartered. Their heads rotted on pikes on top of London Bridge.