‘But he did teach you to play, my lovely?’ Mary kept her voice even, waiting for some new horror.
‘Yes. I was his favourite. I was eight, I think, but I was a very little girl. He used to let me sit on his knee when he taught me. He used to like to stroke up my leg while I practiced.’ Kitty smiled. ‘He smelt very nice, Cousin, and his fingers were gentle.’
Mary was careful to smile back, biting back the fury she felt. ‘His fingers?’
‘When he touched me. He said because I was a precious little girl, he would only touch me gently, because I should save myself for my husband, but touching didn’t count. I would still be pure for my husband. He was very kind to me. He gave me sweetmeats when I was especially hungry.’ Kitty beamed at Mary, ‘I think he loved me.’
‘You are a very loveable girl, Kitty. But were you pure for your husband, the King?’
‘Francis Dereham told me he was my husband, Cousin Mary. I was pure for him.’ Kitty frowned as she remembered that he had left her. ‘But he stopped loving me and went away. Then I came to court, and then he remembered that he still loved me, so he came back!’ She smiled at the memory.
Mary looked at Kitty and smiled. Kitty beamed back, and Mary looked at Ralph, carefully making sure his hand didn’t shake too much as he wrote down Kitty’s words onto the parchment. Mary swallowed her own tears. She didn’t want to upset Kitty and stop her telling her story.
‘Why did he think he could be your husband?’
‘Well, he loved me. And I loved him. And he brought me food when he came to my bed. He took his clothes off when he came to my bed, because he said he didn’t want to spoil them. But then he felt cold without his clothes, so he got under the blanket with me. So when he said he was my husband, I let him do what husbands do, Cousin. We were in love and we were married.’
‘In front of a priest, my lovely?’
‘Hmph, NO, Cousin! That’s silly. How could we do that without Grandmamma knowing? We just said it to each other, and then did what we did in bed. Like I told Tom, I shall confess it all when I’m old, so I don’t go to hell when I die!’
‘Why should you go to hell, my lovely? You’re not wicked, are you?’
‘The things I did in bed with Francis were wicked, and the things I did with Tom Culpeper. Henry told me all the things were wicked except what he did with me, because only that way is permitted by the Bible.’
Mary pushed back the nausea she felt at the thought of what the King had done with this loving, damaged child that was permitted by the Bible and sanctioned by the Church.
‘Tom Culpeper too, Kitty? While you were married to the King?’
‘Oh, yes, Cousin Mary,’ she breathed, longing in her eyes. ‘And before too, when I served Lady Anne of Cleves, before the King made her into his sister and decided that it was me he loved. I love Tom so much, and he loves me, and if the King wants to put me aside, I won’t mind at all because I can marry Tom and I might even have a baby of my own to love then.’ She smiled at Mary. ‘I would like a baby with Tom. It would make him love me for ever. And Jane can come too, because she has no-one but me to love, she told me.’
Her voice dropped conspiratorially and she leant forward. Mary hid her terror at what was coming next.
‘And Tom does such lovely wicked things with me in bed, Cousin. He is so much kinder than either Francis or Henry, he knows so much wicked loveliness, I shall be so happy when I can marry him.’
‘Is that all you can tell me about Horsham, my lovely? That there were lots of comings and goings, and you were always hungry?’
‘That’s what I remember, Cousin. I didn’t like it there very much. I liked it at court, with Cat and Meg and Jane to love me. I love you, Cousin, because you are always so kind. The ladies I have here try to be kind, except Ned Seymour’s wife, who looks at me like I’m some sort of insect. But they won’t let me see the King, or Tom.’ Her eyes filled with tears.
Mary stood up and patted Kitty’s hand. Kitty rose and flung her arms round Mary, who hugged her back tightly. ‘I would like it if you would come and look after me,’ Kitty sniffed.
‘I will try and come again, my lovely, if they let me,’ she said, desperately trying to control herself until she was outside.
‘It would be so lovely to see you,’ Kitty said, regally. Mary kissed her again and left, almost running down the gallery to get into fresh air. Ralph kept up with her, his long stride matching Mary’s flying feet.
As soon as they were outside, Mary turned her back to Ralph and vomited over the flower bed, whilst Ralph sank down against a pillar and let tears flow down his cheeks. Both knew the Queen had condemned herself.
Chapter 19 - 1541
eg, we just have to. I don’t want to either, but we can’t leave her to that harridan, Anne Seymour, and Cat can’t do it!’ Mary gestured to Cat, wiping her eyes and rubbing her belly, five months along with her first baby.
‘But I don’t know if I can do it again, my Lady.’ Tears coursed down Meg’s face at the thought of accompanying another Howard Queen to the scaffold.
‘She has no-one else, Meg. Only we three know her, and love her. I am dreading it too, but when I see her, and think of what she has been through in her short life, I just …..’ Mary’s words trailed off and she put her face in her hands and sobbed.
‘Ralph has said that Tom Culpeper, Francis Derham and Henry Mannox will be executed before Christmastide,’ Meg swallowed hard before she shared the manner of death Ralph had told her about, ‘Only Tom is to be beheaded!’
Gasps of horror came from Mary and Cat. They knew the death of a traitor was the hardest of all – to be hung, then cut down alive and have your entrails ripped from your body and burnt in front of you, before you were hacked into four pieces and your body displayed on London Bridge.
‘After what Kitty told me about Mannox, I can’t think he doesn’t deserve it,’ said Mary, disgust colouring her tones, ‘but it is what will happen to Kitty that concerns me. She is friendless at Sion until they decide if she is guilty. If she is guilty, and I can’t think they will discount what she has said, then she will go to the Tower. If that happens, we should be with her.’
Meg and Cat looked at Mary with tears in their eyes. Meg sniffed, swallowed and replied, ‘Very well, my Lady. If Ralph says I might, then I will accompany you to the Tower to help Kitty.’ Mary clasped her hands in gratitude, nodding grimly.
‘It is settled.’
***
Meg was grateful to spend Christmas at Hatfield House with Cat and Elizabeth. They made as merry as they could with the knowledge that, as Ralph had predicted, Culpeper, Dereham and Mannox had been put to death at the beginning of December. Reports from the court, brought by Ralph as often as he could slip away to see Meg, said that the King was constantly in tears, sobbing and shaking and feeling sorry for himself. But not sorry enough for the Queen!
‘Cranmer and Ned Seymour have presented the evidence to Norfolk, my Meg,’ Ralph held her hands against his chest, ‘and what she told Mary, together with what Jane Rochford told Richard, well, he just can’t annul the marriage and put her in a nunnery.’ He turned on the pillow to face her, wiping a stray tear from her cheek with his thumb, and licking it from its tip. ‘Norfolk has found her guilty of treason and of deceiving the King. She will be moved to the Tower soon.’
Meg looked at him lovingly, knowing he understood how she felt. He was always so tender towards her, she couldn’t believe her good fortune that she had taken that message that day, long ago, it seemed, but was only five years.
‘Let me know when she is to be taken there, Ralph, and send a message to Hever. Lady Mary and I would both be there to meet her, so she isn’t frightened.’ She rai
sed her lips to his, and they again began to make love, making the most of their time together in the midst of madness.
***
Tom Seymour prowled the galleries and corridors of Hampton Court, bored with court life and trying to find something to divert him from his ennui. His task, and that of the other gentlemen of the King was to amuse the monarch and take his mind off his sorrow, but Henry was in no mood to be entertained. The January weather was endlessly grim, cold and wet, so hawking and archery were only possible on a rare fine day. Indoor pursuits such as music and poetry and cards bored the King. He wanted to eat, get drunk with his friend Suffolk and regale anyone who had to listen with his tale of woe. And Tom was bored!
A sudden smile played around his lips, as on one of his silent walks along the main gallery, he spied Kate Latimer reading quietly on a window seat. He crept softly into the embrasure and laughed as she looked up, startled.
‘Good morrow, Kate?’
‘Good day, my Lord. I had not thought to see you about. Shouldn’t you be with the King?’
‘Suffolk is with the King, no doubt pouring him another cup of wine as we speak. And I had thought you would be with your husband?’
‘My husband has gone to see his children, probably for the last time. He is becoming so ill, I did not think he would have the strength to make the journey. But alas, I am not welcome. They sent a physician to accompany him, so I am as you see, alone.’
‘You are never alone when I am near, Kate,’ he whispered, taking her hand and pressing his lips to her fingers. She closed her eyes as a shiver of delight crept up her spine.
‘Oh, Tom!’ she breathed, opening her eyes to look at him.
‘Come and share some wine privately with me Kate,’ he smiled at her, and stood, overwhelming her with his height, his health and his good looks. She blinked, startled. ‘I have wine in my apartment, and it is but a short walk away.’ He smiled again.
‘What if someone sees, Tom?’ she breathed, standing beside him, hardly reaching his shoulder.
‘No-one will see, my Kate. And if they did, they wouldn’t care. Come, we will be quiet, and most of the court are in the great hall, playing cards and listening to music.’ He took her hand and ghosted his lips over her knuckles, then leant down and whispered in her ear, ‘Come, my love.’
‘A cup of wine, then Tom,’ she murmured, taking his arm and walking with him along the gallery to the door at the end, which hid the staircase. He opened the door and let her pass in front of him, closing it behind him. He could hardly control his breathing. Kate had agreed to come to his chamber, and he had every confidence that he could convince her she wanted more than wine from him. His icy sister-in-law was spying on the Queen at Sion House, so he had no concerns in that quarter. He wasn’t bored any longer.
He held Kate’s hand as she passed through the door to his chamber, which he closed and then locked quietly. He didn’t want any interruptions, although he was determined he wouldn’t do anything against Kate’s will. He wasn’t that kind of man, he thought, to take a woman who didn’t want him.
He went to the side table and poured them two cups of wine, quietly slid his feet out of his boots, then took both goblets over to the window which looked out onto the magnificent formal garden.
‘What a beautiful view, Tom,’ Kate turned and smiled at him, but his eyes were fixed on her. He handed her the goblet without taking his eyes from hers.
‘In here, too, my love,’ and he gestured a toast to her, drinking deeply from his cup then setting it down on the window ledge. She sipped from her own cup, then Tom took it from her grasp and put it next to his own. He turned and clasped her shoulders, bending his head to kiss her lips gently. He didn’t want to frighten her.
‘At last, my love,’ he whispered before he put his arms about her properly and deepened his kiss slowly. She hesitated at first, then brought her arms up round his neck and parted her lips under the pressure from his.
‘Oh, Tom,’ she whispered, as he bent to pick her up and carry her to the bed, ‘I don’t know if we should.’
He placed her gently on the coverlet and lay down by her side.
‘We can stop as soon as you are uncomfortable, my love. I don’t want to frighten you, or hurt you. I just want you to let me love you. I have waited for you for so long.’
‘You have waited for me, Tom?’ He knew by her tone she had misunderstood, but he was busy kissing her neck after every word he said, so he wasn’t about to enlighten her.
‘I have wanted you since the moment I saw you,’ he said, kissing down her neck and expertly unhooking the front of her bodice with one hand, then spreading the edges to reveal her embroidered shift, gathered and knotted over her breasts. She sighed and squirmed, but didn’t speak, so he pulled the ties on the shift and swept that out of the way too, kissing the swell of her breast and cupping one gently in his hand.
He felt her take a breath to speak, so he swiftly moved back to her lips and kept kissing her and nibbling her lips until she let her breath out in another sigh, and he stroked her breast and rubbed his thumb gently over the bud of her nipple, hard under his touch. He moved his lips down past her neck and began nuzzling her breasts with his mouth, which allowed him to stretch his arm down and sweep his hand up her voluminous skirt, gently tracing along the top of her stocking, gartered above her knee. She gasped in surprise.
He moved back up her breasts and neck, kissing and nibbling, and captured her lips again. She had been so entranced with his lips on her breasts moving upwards, she hadn’t been aware of his hand working his way ever higher up her skirt, under her petticoats and up under her shift. Her hands had been stroking his face and tangling in his hair, but suddenly she stopped and opened her eyes.
Without stopping his hand from stroking her thigh, round the back and then the front, but not higher, he kissed her again then lifted his head, a questioning look in his eyes.
‘Do you want me to stop, my love?’
‘Am I your love, Tom? Or do you just want me because you haven’t been able to have me?’
‘I have loved none other but you, ever since I set my eyes on you!’ True as far as it went, he thought. He had thought himself in love with Kate for many years, and he had no wife. The other willing bodies didn’t count.
‘And I have always loved you, Tom. When I was young I thought you were a god, tall, strong, beautiful.’ His eyes closed at how young she had been. He was no god.
‘Let me be a god for you, Kate. Let me take you to my heaven.’ He bent his head and kissed her again, and she unfastened the clasps on his doublet and wrenched it over his shoulders so he was clad only in his shirt and breeches. She pulled the ties at the front of his shirt, and slid her soft hands over his chest and shoulders, sweeping the shirt from his body.
‘Yes, Tom. Take me to heaven,’ she whispered, kissing his chest and neck. He needed no more encouragement. He moved down the bed and began to strip off her stockings, kissing her knees, her calves and her feet as he did so. She laughed softly and squirmed her pleasure, as he swept her skirts up out of the way and kissed his way up her thighs until he reached the silky triangle at the top of her legs.
‘Let me taste you, my love,’ he whispered, parting her thighs and kissing and licking her as she whimpered and drew in a shocked breath. ‘Let me love you, my love,’ and he replaced his tongue with his fingers, dipping and stroking until her breath came faster and she began to shudder. He kept on stroking, but kissed his way back up her body as he unlaced his breeches with his other hand. He was grateful he was so practiced at this; he didn’t want her to take fright when he was so close.
He moved carefully over her, taking care not to crush her with his weight, not to frighten her, and he kissed her
breasts and neck as she moaned softly. Then, when he knew she was wet and ready for him, he moved her knees so her legs fell apart and he gently entered her. And stopped.
Kate opened her eyes, closed as they’d been with bliss, and looked at him in bewilderment.
‘Tom? Is something wrong? Do you want to stop?’
‘Oh, my love. Why didn’t you tell me? How can this be?’ He looked at her in amazement, then holding her gaze with his, pushed himself as gently as he could inside her, so he didn’t hurt her.
‘You are no longer a virgin, my love. But with two husbands, I did not expect this.’ He began to move carefully inside her, slowly at first, and then more and more quickly, capturing her mouth with his own and kissing and thrusting them both to their climax. He was breathless, and stunned, and amazed, and grateful!
‘I didn’t expect you to be a maid, Kate,’ he said gently when his breathing had calmed. ‘You have been married twice.’
‘I did tell you that my first husband was kind, Tom. He was old, but he was no pederast. I was thirteen and he had no interest in me this way,’ she indicated their bodies, entwined in the aftermath of their passion, still partially clothed. ‘He wanted to teach me, but not in the way you obviously supposed. Then he died.’
‘And your father married you to another, before I could ask for you.’ Tom had convinced himself that he would have asked, had he had the chance.
‘He married me to keep me safe, to another rich old man, with children already. He didn’t know that this husband would have no interest in me either. My husband, however, might be interested in you, Tom. You are very much his type!’
Tom looked at her, horrified as he understood what she was saying.
In The Midst of Madness: Tudor Chronicles Book Two Page 12