The Rose Without a Thorn

by Виктория Холт

But the King was smiling.

  “Come, come,” he said. “Rise, my dear young lady.”

  A hand shining with jewels took mine. I was drawn close to him and I was looking straight into that fleshy face; the little eyes were glinting.

  “You are very young, Mistress Howard. Tell me, how many years have you graced this earth?”

  “I am eighteen years old, Your Majesty.”

  “Eighteen?” he said rather wistfully. “’Tis a goodly age, eh, Norfolk? You and I left it behind some time since.”

  “Your Majesty is right.”

  “I liked your song,” he said to me. “It is one of my favorites.”

  Everyone applauded and there was laughter, in which the King joined.

  “You sang it with feeling. Did she not?” He looked round the table.

  “She sang it as it deserved to be sung, Your Majesty,” said someone.

  “ ’Twas so indeed. You will sing for us again, Mistress Howard, and you shall sing that song. It would please me much to hear you.”

  I was not quite sure what was expected of me, and I was blushing. My uncle was frowning, and I guessed he was urging me to say something.

  I stammered: “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  My uncle’s obvious exasperation told me that I had failed to come up to his expectations.

  “My niece has but recently come to Court,” he said. “She is nervous and overwhelmed by Your Majesty’s kindness. Your Majesty must forgive her lack …”

  “Lack, Norfolk? I see no lack.” The King was glaring at my uncle and I could not suppress my pleasure at seeing him disconcerted. “I like well her manners,” went on the King, patting my hand and looking affable again.

  He bent closer to me. “Heed him not.” Then he said loudly: “I would have Mistress Howard sit beside me. I would speak with her.”

  The chair next to the King was immediately vacated and I began to feel a little less nervous. He was the King, and it was clear that they were all in great awe of him, even my formidable uncle, but he was very pleasant to me.

  “Now,” he said. “You and I will talk. We will pay no attention to Norfolk’s carping. You and I understand each other, do we not, Mistress Howard?”

  I giggled, lost for words, and again he did not object. In fact, he laughed with me.

  “And you have recently come to my Court. I guessed that, for I have not seen you before, and if I had, I should have remembered you. Perhaps you would have remembered me?”

  I knew that was a joke, because everyone would remember him and count it an experience to have seen him. So we laughed together over that.

  There appeared to be no need to worry about making the courtly remark. The King did not seem to mind if I just acted naturally.

  “Your singing pleased me greatly,” he went on. “You have a pretty voice, but methinks, Mistress Howard, that everything about you is enchanting.”

  I did manage to murmur: “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

  “Oh,” he said jocularly, “that is one blessing for which you do not have to thank your King. But let me tell you this, it pleases me. It pleases me indeed. I like to see freshly innocent young ladies about my Court, and you are that, Mistress Howard.”

  I was very pleased to discover that I was not expected to say much. I merely had to listen to him, and laugh when he laughed and put in the occasional “Yes, Your Majesty,” to be varied with “Your Majesty is gracious.”

  He talked a little about my family and how the Howards and the Tudors had been friends.

  “For the most part,” he added. He remembered my father, who had done well at Flodden. He asked questions about me, which did not strike me as unusual.

  I found myself talking naturally to him, and if I forgot to say “Your Majesty” or “Your Grace” all the time, that did not seem to matter. I told him that I had been brought up in my grandmother’s establishment and how poor we had been when I was very young. He listened and nodded sympathetically.

  He kept me beside him for the rest of the evening and together we watched some dancers whom the Bishop had engaged for his entertainment.

  As we took the barge back to Greenwich, I realized that people’s attitudes toward me had changed. They no longer regarded me as the insignificant newcomer, ignorant of the ways of the Court.

  I had been favored by the King in an unmistakable manner.

  * * *

  The next day my uncle came to see me. That in itself was significant. Before I had always been summoned to see him.

  “Your singing was a success,” he said almost grudgingly.

  “The King liked it, did he not?” I replied.

  “I fancy he liked more than your singing.”

  I laughed. I had changed. I would not have dared laugh like that before in the Duke’s presence.

  “You must not be foolish. You must act warily. You will be advised.”

  I wondered what about.

  “You are very ignorant of Court ways,” went on the Duke.

  “The King liked that.”

  “H’m.” He was thoughtful. “You must not be too … free with the King.” He looked at me with some exasperation. “You must not act in an unseemly fashion.”

  I did not understand what he meant. I wondered how anyone would presume to act in an unseemly fashion toward that great and glittering creature.

  “You are such a child,” he said quite irritably. “You are young, even for your years.”

  I was silent, not knowing how to apologize for that.

  “I shall speak to your grandmother. You may need new dresses … some jewelry.” He lifted his shoulders and frowned, as though he were puzzled. I think he found it difficult to understand not just why the King could have liked my playing so much, but more, that he had talked to me during the evening. “But it may come to naught,” he went on, as though to himself. “Just a whim of the moment. Bored with Gardiner’s efforts to entertain him. Perhaps wait awhile … and see.”

  I thought he was going to explain, but he just said: “We shall have to wait and see how deep the interest went. The song was his own. That could have been it.”

  Then he left me.

  The ladies were talking about the King’s interest in me.

  The Countess of Rutland said: “You were honored indeed, Mistress Howard.”

  “She played very well and sang with deep feeling,” commented Lady Richmond. “I think that was what interested him. He gets sentimental over ‘Greensleeves’. It was a brilliant idea to choose that piece.”

  “Mayhap,” added the Countess thoughtfully, “it was more than the song.”

  They exchanged glances and smiled.

  “It is not everyone who pleases the King,” said Lady Richmond. “His leg gives him great pain … among other things.”

  “Which,” put in the Countess, “may possibly be more painful to him.”

  Then they seemed to come to an understanding, which I guessed meant they realized they were talking too freely before someone who was not included in their circle.

  Lady Rochford was quick to seek me out.

  “There is much talk about Mistress Howard,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “The King was most impressed by her singing.”

  “Oh yes, he liked it. It was because it was ‘Greensleeves’.”

  “Was that so? Then we shall have all the ladies singing it. May the good Lord spare us! And what of my Lord Norfolk? He was, I’ll warrant, proud of his little niece on this occasion. That is somewhat rare with my lord, is it not?”

  I laughed. I could always laugh with Jane Rochford.

  I said: “I think he was more surprised than anyone. You know, he has not a very high opinion of me. Indeed, he always makes me feel more stupid than I am.”

  “Oh come, Mistress Howard, you are not stupid. Methinks you have become a very important lady.”

  “My uncle does not think so. But it was amusing, Jane. When he presented me to the King, he was very different from what I hav
e ever seen him before.”

  “That is the power of royalty, my dear Katherine. It is good to bask in it, but one must never forget it can soon be withdrawn. ‘Well done, thou good and faithful servant’ can quickly be followed by ‘off with his—or her—head’.”

  “Oh, Jane, you are very funny.”

  “There is truth behind the mirth, dear child. I should like to know what the mighty Duke thought of the King’s interest in his little niece.”

  “I think he was afraid I was going to disgrace the family. He was surprised.”

  “You may do that yet.”

  “What? Disgrace or surprise?”

  “Both.” She laughed and went on: “Well, I think we may assume that at this time His Grace the Duke is not displeased with his niece.”

  “I am not sure.”

  “But the King was certainly not!”

  “He did not seem displeased with me, of a surety.”

  “’Tis a beginning, and where there is a beginning there must be an end.”

  * * *

  Some of the Queen’s ladies were invited to the Bishop’s house once more—I among them—and, to our surprise, we had not been there long when the King arrived; and among the courtiers who accompanied him were my uncle and the King’s brother-in-law, the Duke of Suffolk.

  I noticed a look pass between my uncle and the Bishop, and it seemed to me that there was something conspiratorial about it.

  My uncle came to me and looked me over with that critical manner to which I was accustomed. He took my arm and led me away from the others to the King, bowed, and said: “Your Majesty, may I present Mistress Katherine Howard.”

  The King smiled broadly. “Of a surety you may,” he said, turning that smile on me.

  “Your Majesty was kind enough to commend her for her singing. Your Majesty may remember the occasion. My niece was overwhelmed.”

  “Now, let me think,” said the King, his eyes twinkling. “Sing, did you say? Ah, I recall the lady.”

  “Your Majesty was most gracious.”

  “The grace was not mine,” said the King. “Rather that of the young lady. Sit beside me, Mistress Howard. I would speak with you for a while.”

  He waved his hand to dismiss my uncle, who bowed and moved away.

  Then the King talked to me, asking me questions which he had asked before. Did I like living at the Court? It must be different from what I had done before—and so on.

  On this occasion I was less shy. In fact, the King was so friendly that I forgot that he was the King. I am afraid I laughed rather immoderately until I remembered who he was and curbed it.

  He realized this and, taking my hand, patted it gently. I was fascinated by those fat, glittering fingers, and could not take my eyes from them.

  “You must not be afraid of me,” he said gently. “You are a good girl, Mistress Howard. I know that well. I like young ladies to be modest and virtuous. Such gifts are rare, and especially so in surroundings such as these. You are newly come and know nothing of this, so, prithee, Mistress Howard, do not adopt too many of the habits of my Court.”

  His mouth fascinated me. It was so small and seemed particularly so because his face was so big. Such a thin straight line of a mouth. Such little eyes that seemed to peer forth from all that flesh. When I had seen him at first, I had thought it was a cruel face. It was quite different when he talked to me. There seemed something young about it now—almost like a baby’s. And then, talking about the morals of his Court, it was almost prim and definitely disapproving.

  He noticed how I looked at him, for he said: “You study me, Mistress Howard. What do you think, eh? What do you think of your King?”

  I was unsure how to reply and I stammered: “I think Your Majesty is very kind to me.”

  He looked pleased and a great sense of relief swept over me because I must have found the right answer to this difficult question.

  “To those who serve me well, I can be very kind.” He was smiling now and there was something very soft and sentimental about his face. I was amazed by the speed with which it could change. Now there was a glitter in his eyes and it was different again. It was a look which sent a shiver of alarm through me. I had seen it before, and suddenly I was thinking of Manox and Derham and my dear Thomas. The King was pressing my hand.

  “I could be very kind to you, Mistress Howard,” he said.

  “Your … Your Majesty is gracious.”

  “And will be more … and will be more, I swear to you.”

  He looked sentimental again, with that glazed expression in his eyes, and suddenly he said: “Tell me of your music. You play the lute, I know.”

  I told him that I also played the virginals.

  “You shall play for me,” he said. “I like much the virginals. We share this love of music, you and I.”

  It grew increasingly easy to talk to him. I completely forgot he was the King. I pulled myself up sharply, putting my finger to my lips to prevent the informal words coming out, and he said to me: “What ails you, Mistress Katherine?”

  I sought to explain. “Your Majesty is so gracious to me. I forgot you are … Your Majesty.”

  That seemed to amuse him. His laughter boomed forth and everyone was looking our way.

  For a moment I thought he might be angry, but his smile was more soft and sentimental than ever.

  “I like that, Katherine,” he said. “I like it well.”

  * * *

  The Duchess asked me to visit her. This was not the command to which I was accustomed, more a request.

  I sailed upriver in a barge which had been sent to take me from Greenwich to Lambeth.

  She greeted me warmly.

  “Ah, granddaughter,” she said, “you have become a success at Court.”

  “I am not sure. But the King has spoken to me.”

  “Spoken to you indeed! I heard he had you seated beside him and that you talked together. What could you have had to say to the King?”

  “It was easy. I just talked. I forgot he was the King and I told him that.”

  She looked at me in horror.

  “It was all right,” I assured her. “I am not to be sent to the Tower.”

  “Do not say such things … even in jest!” she cried, and I knew she was thinking of my cousin.

  “Oh, it mattered not.”

  “And it was at the Bishop’s residence that this happened?”

  I nodded.

  “Stephen Gardiner does not forget his allegiance to your uncle. That is as it should be, for where would Gardiner be without His Grace? He came up from nothing … his father a clothworker, was it? Something such. And if your uncle had not brought him to the attention of Wolsey … poor Wolsey. These people … they come and go. Wolsey … Cromwell … who next? We have to walk through life with the greatest care … those of us who live near the crown. It is well to remember that. So, it was at Gardiner’s place … and your uncle was there … and you did not know that you should meet the King.”

  “No … no one knew. The King came without telling them that he would.”

  She gave me a slightly supercilious smile.

  “And the King paid attention to you … had you sit beside him? He talked to you and you forgot he was the King and he liked that. Is that all?”

  “What else should there be?”

  “I was asking you. Ah, I think I hear sounds of arrival. It will be the Duke himself.”

  The Duke saluted his stepmother and acknowledged me with a nod.

  “Katherine is here, as you see,” said the Duchess.

  He turned to me then and I recognized the speculation in his eyes as he looked at me: there was a certain interest there which had never come my way before.

  “You stand well with the King,” he said. “It is good that you have pleased him.”

  “I have done as you asked,” put in my grandmother. “She shall not be short of a gown or the occasional trinket. The seamstresses are here now. They are waiting to fit her as it
is necessary.”

  The Duke was actually smiling at me. “I doubt not that you are eager to try these new gowns, and I’ll warrant you are as fond of finery as most girls are, eh?”

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  He glanced at my grandmother, who nodded.

  “Then go, child,” she said. “Try the blue velvet. They used one of your old gowns for size. It should fit. There are some beautiful materials and the colors should become you well. Let me see how you look in the blue velvet.”

  I was always glad to get away when my uncle was present. Moreover, the prospect of clothes always excited me.

  How they had changed toward me! The King’s attention had done this. I felt a warm glow of gratitude toward him. I was beginning to lose my awe of him. He had been so friendly, and he had shown clearly that he did not think me in the least stupid—or, if he did, he liked it. I was as a young girl should be, he implied.

  I gasped with pleasure at the materials when I saw them. I may not have had much book-learning, but I did know something about clothes. I held up the material against me and the two seamstresses cried out in delight.

  “Oh, how that scarlet becomes you, Mistress Howard! I think we should make it with the flowing sleeves.”

  The flowing sleeves were a fashion which had been introduced to the Court by Anne Boleyn, because she had a deformity on the finger and the full sleeves helped to hide it. They were graceful and becoming and were still in fashion.

  I examined the materials and we talked of styles. I tried on the blue dress. The bodice had a square-cut neck and the skirt hung open in the front to disclose a beautifully embroidered kirtle decorated with a tracing of silver thread. The women hovered round me, straightening the skirt and patting the material here and there.

  “Ah, but you are beautiful in that gown, Mistress Howard,” one of them said.

  They stood together, looking at me in admiration—I suspected as much of their own work as of me.

  I was delighted. So often I had seen the Court ladies in splendid gowns and wished they were mine. And now, it seemed, they were.

  “The Duchess wishes me to show her this gown,” I said.