Nay, she did not want to hate the King. Even for the hurt he gave to her, and the hurt he gave to her aunt. Perhaps if she stayed, he might recognise her as his daughter, and she could feel something for him other than hatred. Perhaps, if he saw her—really saw her—she could speak to him about her aunt. Make him realise he did wrong by her. Surely there was hope of that? Life always gave reason for hope. Her mother had told her that.
The terrible heaviness of spirit at last lifted from her. No, she did not hate her mother, but still she shook her head. “It is not that I don’t want come home, but I have a place here, too. This seems where I must make my real life.” She clenched her hands before her. “And Aunt Nan needs me more than Mother. She has so few she can really trust, so few who really love her or protect her. Mother has you, Father.”
The word was out. Kate lifted her gaze to his beaming face, and they both burst out laughing. He took her hand. “I have waited a long time for that, my maid. If your time at court has brought you to name me Father, I think these days have brought us an unexpected blessing. One that will bring great joy to your mother.” He bent and kissed her cheek. “Aye, and a promise of a true homecoming at last—one that comes from the heart. But if you change your mind, all you need do is send me a message, and I’ll ride through summer storm or winter snow to bring you home again.”
He checked the undraped window. In the time they had talked together, the light had edged closer to darkness.
“My girl, I must be on my way while there are a few hours of daylight left. I do not want to be away from my Mary any longer than need be.” Stafford gestured over to the table with the inkstand. “Isn’t there something you should do before I leave?”
Kate smiled, really smiled, at him, and then hurried over to the table. She picked up the quill and studied the blank parchment. She wrote five lines:
You have my heart.
I miss you more with each passing day.
I forgive you.
I begin to understand.
I am your daughter always.
Then she signed “Kate.” Nothing more. But at least that name no one could take away.
12
WHILE HE DID NOT REQUEST IT OF HER, Kate accompanied her stepfather back some of the way towards the royal stables. They talked softly all the while—of homely things mostly, although when it came time to bid her stepfather farewell at the back entrance of the palace, he faced her with worried eyes. “Remember,” he said, taking her hand, “you must be careful to whom you speak, child, and be careful of what you say. Your mother and I want you to keep out of harm’s way.”
She attempted a smile of reassurance. “You said the same when you first brought me here. I shrugged off your words then, but no more. These weeks at court have taught me caution.”
He nodded and gazed down the long corridor they had just walked. Servants scurried around lighting the sconces along the walls. “Yet, methinks if I hadn’t stopped at this place to say farewell, you would likely have walked all the way with me to the stable.” He took her hand. “This is not home, Kate. The freedom you had there is not what you can here. Only walk in public places with those you trust, and never alone. Promise me you will remember this.”
She enclosed his hand in both of hers. “I promise.” This time she widened her smile. “Father.”
He laughed and embraced her. “All right, lass. You go back now while there’s still daylight. I’ll be on my way.”
Thoughtful, Kate made her slow way back to her chamber, ignoring the cold drafts that accompanied her every step along the corridor. She sniffed and paused. A lit torch in a high sconce wisped with grey smoke as it crackled, the flame fighting to gain ground. Sizzling, the flame increased before it crackled and smoked again. One last struggle and it died. In the sudden fall of darkness, she coughed, her lungs tickling from the acid smoke. She averted her face, her attention caught by the pooling golden light coming from a deep embrasure where an oriel window overlooked the Queen’s garden. Kate wandered over to it and sat in the amber haze.
Deep snow covered the garden. After a day of continual flurries and strong winds, all was still and calm. Broken islands of grey clouds and ribbons of pink and purple glided across a pale, azure sky. The lowering sun shone upon the garden a gloaming that painted everything with magic. Even the white-speckled trees shimmered with mauve, gold and glassy greens of melting snow.
Kate drew up her legs, hugged them to her, bracing her back against the stone of the corner of the window-seat. She pushed from her mind her stepfather’s worry. Surely no danger could come to her so close to her chambers? Watching the ebb and flow of the final moments of day, it seemed eternity weaved all around her. She became aware of her breathing—inhaling, exhaling, inhaling, exhaling—that drank deep from the sweetness of life. My life.
Enwrapped by the gloaming light, she put a hand over her heart and gloried in her warm, young, healthy body. She owned the world, and everything was possible, there for her to take. Life held her in its wonder, its beauty. She was part of a fabric that went on and on without end. She thanked God for it.
She shivered. Now sitting in the dark and very cold, she stirred as if from a deep dream, realising she could no longer see the garden. Night had fallen. She drew her mantle closer around her and shifted in the window-seat, preparing to leave and head back to the warmth of her chamber. But then quiet voices spoke close by—one belonged to Cromwell. She jerked back and flattened herself against the stone of the embrasure. Dear God, let me be out sight. Pray, don’t let them hear me.
“Are you certain this place is safe?” he asked.
“Is any place safe, Master Cromwell? But, look around. None can approach us without our knowledge.”
Heavy feet shuffled, then Cromwell spoke again. “Aye, all is clear. I have my man on guard to ensure we are undisturbed.”
“Very well, my Lord. Let us come to it. Why did you ask for this meeting?”
“A bird came and told me certain things.”
Another pause.
“What things, my Lord?”
“Oh, a certain matter of treason. One that could see a man boil in oil. A waste of both good man and oil, I’d say.”
Kate’s heart drummed hard as if counting out the seconds until the voices spoke again.
“Treason, my Lord?” the other man said slowly. “I am a loyal servant to the crown.”
“And what crown is that?” Cromwell laughed softly. “I believe you desire a change of crown—to that of an untried, stubborn and vengeful girl. What would the King do, I wonder, if I passed on to him what this little bird said to me? War or poison—such are your remedies to the ills of the land.”
Feet shifted. “Your bird sang the wrong tune, my Lord.”
“I do not think so.”
The man’s breathing quickened.
“If you don’t think so, why not tell the King and have me arrested?”
“Because I might use you better if you remain with the King. A bird placed there could tell me things that would only strengthen my hand.”
Silence fell, heavy with menace and fear.
“Why should I sing to you?”
“You’re not a fool. You know as I do that change is in the wind. You dislike Queen Anne almost as much as I do. If she gives the King a son, we are both doomed men. Perchance you, good sir, are doomed no matter what.”
One heartbeat. Two. Three. Four. Five.
Cromwell laughed. “I can guess your thoughts. You, my good man, are only one of many who plot her demise. My little bird told me of your talks with the group of churchmen who just wait for the King’s concubine to fail once more in the birthing chamber. Not that I agree with their conspiracy. I have no use for the papacy. Queen Anne and I once agreed about the religious path for England. Now she has got in her head that she knows better than me as to what should happen to the monasteries, and desires for all English men an English Bible and the Gospel open to interpretation by all. She is a fool. A fo
ol who does not care where this but leads: aye, anarchy and sedition.
“What does it matter if monasteries are sold off as long as gold comes back to the King’s coffers? She will not leave him alone in this matter. She is a fool, and he has lost patience with a wife who thinks she knows better than he and tells him so.”
Impatient, angry feet stamped. “I do not want to see the monasteries disbanded either, Cromwell. The King goes too far. Soon, it will be too late for England to return to the True Faith.”
There was hush for a moment before Cromwell spoke again. “And you may go too far, sir. I don’t think I need to tell you the agony of a man who is boiled in oil. The King would take your betrayal very hard. So hard, I doubt not the hardness of your death.”
Boots scraped the brick floor. “My lord, I am a physician. Do you not think I carry a gentler means of death always on my person?”
Cromwell laughed. “You should not have told me that. If you refuse to be my man, I will call my men now. We will strip you down to your skin before we take you before the King. There’ll be no gentle means of death for you.”
One man coughed then swallowed. “My Lord, what do you want of me?”
“Oh, nothing more than to be another of my birds who sings to me of what goes on between the King and Queen Anne. Doesn’t that make you feel better, my good man, to know you work with me to bring the bitch down? And you get what you want, too. Once she is gone, it won’t be long before the King’s daughter resumes her rightful place.”
A long moment passed. “So I give my soul to the devil.”
Cromwell laughed. “Say you the devil? You flatter me.” Feet moved. “It is time for us to return before we are missed. On Friday say, you will sup with me, and every Friday after that until we achieve our goal.”
The heavy pad of feet receded. For a long time, Kate was too frightened to move. At last, reassured by the silence, she slipped from the embrasure and went in the opposite direction of the men, heading swiftly along the torch-lit corridors to her aunt’s chambers.
Madge and Mary emerged from the Queen’s chamber. Madge frowned at Kate. “What to do? Why come you here? And alone? Kate, I’ll not be answerable to your fate if you continue in this fashion.”
“Who attends the Queen?” Kate asked.
“Why us, of course—and the Duchess of Richmond. But the Queen asked us to leave while she rests for a time.”
“I must see her!”
Without waiting for yea or nay, and ignoring the startled look of the Queen’s usual guard as she boldly passed him, Kate entered her aunt’s antechamber. The Duchess sewed by the fire. Her eyes narrowed at Kate. “The Queen has not called for you.”
Kate lifted her skirts and ran through the open doorway of the bedchamber. Aunt Nan stirred.
“What is it?” she said sleepily.
Kate fell to her knees beside the bed and took her hand. “Aunt Nan, wake up, pray wake up.”
Her aunt moved her on her side and her eyes opened. Leaning on her arm, she half sat up. “Kate?” She straightened up, sitting against the pillows. “I hope you have good reason to disturb my slumber.”
“Forgive me, Aunt. I do have good reason.” Kate dropped her head in her hands. “Oh, Aunt, I am frightened for you.”
“Frightened? For me?” She tightened her grip on Kate’s hand. “Tell me, child.”
“I heard Cromwell, my Queen. He and one other. They spoke of bringing you down.”
“Cromwell?” Aunt Nan paled and swallowed. “You heard him? In God’s good name, where were you that Cromwell spoke so freely?”
Kate’s cheeks heated. “In the window-seat at the far end of the gallery—the one that overlooks your garden.” She shrugged. “I lingered overlong to watch the setting of the sun. I was readying myself to return to my chamber when I heard Cromwell’s voice. I hid until it was safe to come here.”
The Queen’s brow drew into a worry knot. “Kate, you must vow to me that you will no longer be so foolish as to wander about the court without an attendant.” She shook her head. “I almost lost my maidenhood because I once was a young fool like you. I beg you, take heed of the mistakes of your elders and desist. Nay, I do not beg, but command. If I hear you disregard my warning, I will send you home straight to your mother.” She shook her head. “I cannot believe you placed yourself in such danger, eavesdropping on Cromwell—Cromwell of all men.”
Kate bowed her head in submission before she spoke again. “But Cromwell, Aunt?”
Aunt Nan inhaled a deep, sharp breath. “Tell me then. What did you hear?”
Kate thought for moment, trying to get the story straight in her head.
“There is a man, close to the King, who is treacherous. Cromwell told him he would tell the King if the man didn’t do what he said. Cromwell told him the King would boil him in oil.”
Shifting against the pillows, Aunt Nan frowned, then murmured, “That’s the punishment for poison. It must be that, then. Good thing then that the King and I have food tasters. And the punishment for the crime is such to make it unlikely that any would-be poisoner would proceed to put their plan in action.” She faced Kate again. “Do you know this man?”
Kate shook her head. “No, I cannot name him.”
Aunt Nan sighed. “You may not be able to give him a name, but I have my suspicions. There was a time when I could have gone to the King, and he would have listened to me. Now, unless I have real proof, I cannot do that.” She pursed her lips. “Even to send you would be a mistake. The King would hear you out and then decide you are my creature. He knows I hate Cromwell and would like to see his head off his shoulders. In less than three years, he has become my greatest enemy. He has destroyed the King’s trust in me.” She placed her hand protectively over her belly. “Once I have my son, my husband will come back to me. I must wait until then—and then Cromwell is a dead man.”
Kate listened to the chorus singing in her head the same tune, over and over: You must not walk alone. Now her aunt’s command slammed the final door to her freedom. Disturbed by the night’s events, Kate was pleased when Madge and Mary offered to take her back to her chamber. Kate soon discovered why, with both girls demanding to know the story behind her panicked night visit to the Queen. But her aunt had issued another command before ending their conversation. Kate was to remain silent about what she had overheard. Her aunt warned her to do any other would put in risk both their safeties.
Once she told them she obeyed the Queen’s command in not telling them, Madge and Mary left her to return to their post, leaving her in the bedchamber to her own devices. She shivered, her bones hurting with the cold. The fire was out, the chamber icy and Alice, their maidservant, was nowhere in sight to restore the hearth to its proper state and purpose.
My mantle? Where is it? Kate remembered pulling it around her while seated in the window-seat. The cheap clasp from home must have broken again and caused it to fall from her shoulders when she had raced to her aunt’s chamber. Her heart missed a beat. What if Cromwell finds it?
Aunt Nan had only recently given her the mantle as a gift. Cromwell had remarked on it only two days ago—commending the embroidery of falcons, the crest of the Boleyn family. He would know it belonged to her.
The embrasure was only a short distance away. She could get there and back in minutes. She had to retrieve her mantle, even if it meant disobeying the Queen. But wouldn’t she understand why?
Holding up her skirts to keep her feet free, Kate rushed out her chamber, going back down the long corridor and around the corner that took her back to the window-seat that overlooked the garden. To her relief, her mantle was on the floor in front of it, seemingly untouched and undisturbed.
She flung it over her shoulders, raced back the other way and straight into Cromwell’s arms. She cried out in fright and he laughed.
“Why in such a hurry?” He laughed again. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Gathering back her wits, she curtseyed. “I beg y
our pardon, my Lord, but I return to my chamber. It is night, and I should be there, not here. My cousin will scold if she knows I left it.’
Cromwell crossed his arms “So what do you do here?” He winked. “Have you already a lover, young Katherine Carey?”
She swallowed but thanked God he gave her this opening. It was far better for him to think she returned from a dalliance than begin wondering why he found her alone. She attempted a smile. “Master Cromwell, I beg you, do not tell of this to my aunt.”
He smiled. “Let none say that I put anything in the way of young love.” He studied her. “But service for service, I say.”
Kate frowned. “What mean you, sir?”
“Let’s be clear. If I do not tell your aunt, what will you do for me?”
“I do not understand.”
“Don’t you, girl? Let me spell it out for you then. You attend the Queen, and I would like to hear more about what goes on in her chambers.”
Kate stared in disbelief. “Sir, are you asking me to spy on my aunt?”
“Spy? Did I say that? I ask you to talk to me, no more, no less.”
“You ask me to speak about the Queen? I cannot do that.”
His thick brows came together, and he scowled. All at once, he appeared to threaten her. “So you are happy that I tell your aunt about our meeting?”
Kate swallowed. “She will be angry, but that is better than what you propose.”
Cromwell grabbed her arm and thrust his face at her. “Foolish girl. Be careful. Very careful. Take it from me, child, if you choose the wrong side, you will be pulled under, too.” He pushed her away from him, almost causing her to lose her balance. “And don’t think the King will care to hear about this conversation. Believe me, in all things, I act for the King. What he wishes, I do.”
13
Green groweth the holly, so doth the ivy.
Though winter blasts blow never so high,
Green groweth the holly.
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