Mary knew that Kate hadn’t looked this dreadful even at the height of her terror during her marriage to Henry. That she had been brought so low, and by a man whom she had loved since girlhood, and who had professed to love her in return broke Mary’s heart. She blew out her cheeks and then took a deep breath.
‘Now then, my lovely. Let’s get you sorted.’ Mary walked across to the bed where Kate was shivering and muttering, even though her head and hands were very hot and dry. Looking at Lady Anne, Mary said, ‘Get clean sheets and a clean gown for her.’ Lady Anne looked back blankly.
‘Is everyone struck dumb here?’ Mary was becoming irritated with the lack of action, when Kate was obviously ill and distressed. She spoke slowly and deliberately. ‘Behind you, Lady Anne. In the dresser will be clean sheets and clean nightgowns.’ She smiled and nodded encouragement as if dealing with Tommy, and when Lady Anne finally turned to do her bidding, she rolled her eyes at Cat and Meg who were busily washing and swaddling Kate’s new daughter.
Meg washed Kate quickly with some water one of the maids had brought, then stripped the bed with practiced motions, and remade it without disturbing Kate unduly. Then Mary and Lady Anne helped Kate into a clean gown and presented her with her baby. Kate didn’t seem sure of where she was, and although she held the baby briefly, Meg quickly took the little girl in her own arms again.
‘Kate? Kate! Do you want us to let Sir Thomas in?’ Mary tried to get an answer from Kate about her husband.
‘He’s trying to kill me,’ a frightened whisper.
Mary sat on the bed and gathered Kate into her arms. ‘I’m sure he isn’t, my lovely. Why would he want to do that when you’ve just given him a beautiful daughter?’
‘He wants to marry Elizabeth,’ another hoarse whisper. Cat brought a mug of small ale and Kate gulped at it thirstily. ‘I daren’t drink anything he brings me,’ she whispered, tears rolling down her cheek.
‘He waited to marry you for a long time, Kate. Why would he want a different wife, my lovely?’
Kate lifted terrified eyes to Mary, and mouthed some words that Mary didn’t hear.
‘What are you trying to say, my lovely?’ Mary put her ear to Kate’s lips as she whispered again.
‘He wants to be King!’ Kate slipped into unconsciousness as Mary gave a horrified gasp.
Suddenly the door was thrust open and Tom Seymour stood there, clutching another goblet of wine and drunker than he was when Mary had slapped him. She suppressed a smile as she saw a livid red mark and a purpling bruise darkening his cheek.
‘My Lord?’ a question, coldly voiced.
‘What is it? The child?’ He lurched in the doorway and leant on the frame to steady himself.
‘A daughter, my Lord,’ Meg stepped forward with the child in her arms for him to see.
He glanced disinterestedly at the linen-wrapped bundle and took another long drink.
‘Hmph!’ He gestured towards the passive form of Kate on the bed. ‘Frances Mary is what she chose for a girl. And will she live?’ Another nod towards the bed.
‘We shall try and ensure she does, my Lord,’ Another cold remark from Mary. ‘Did you engage a wet-nurse for the child? Kate will not be well enough to feed her for a good while.’
‘Mmm! Downstairs,’ Tom took another lengthy draught and nodded towards Lady Anne, standing speechless in the corner, much to Mary’s disgust. ‘She knows who she is.’ Lady Anne nodded mutely.
‘Lady Anne. Please go and fetch the wet-nurse up here. Baby Frances needs her first feed.’ Mary felt she was dealing with a houseful of mindless children. Lady Anne scurried from the room in relief. Tom peeled himself from the doorframe and followed her from the room, draining his wine cup as he walked.
‘Mother,’ Cat whispered frantically, ‘What are we going to do?’
‘Well, my lovely. One thing we’re not going to do is leave her alone. With him!’
***
Cat brought a bowl of fresh cool water into the room, and Mary dipped a linen cloth and wiped at the feverish sweat on Kate’s brow while Meg searched the dresser to find some more clean sheets for the bed. Kate had been delirious for hours, and her bed was soaked with sweat and blood. They couldn’t stop the bleeding from Kate’s womb, and even though they had packed between her legs with clean linens, they didn’t seem to be able to staunch the flow of the dark red, stinking fluid.
Mary held Kate’s head on her shoulder as Cat helped Meg carefully strip the bed and replace the sheets. They placed a draw sheet under Kate’s hips to try and make her more comfortable, then Meg bundled the soiled linens in her arms and went to take them to the laundress as Mary tried to help Kate take a sip of small ale.
‘Just a sip, my lovely,’ whispered Mary as she held the mug to Kate’s parched lips. Kate began to shake her head, then opened her eyes and saw it was Mary who held the cup. Mary nodded encouragingly and smiled, and Kate sipped a little of the brew, swallowing painfully and then closing her eyes again.
Kate’s skin was almost the same colour as the linen sheet beneath her wasted, emaciated body. Mary could tell that she hadn’t been eating properly before her baby was born, and she wondered if the fear of poison had come upon Kate before her confinement, rather than be a result of the childbed fever. There were huge dark shadows beneath Kate’s eyes, like bruised thumbprints, her cheeks were sunken and her lips were dry and flaking.
‘Would you like to see your baby daughter, my Lady?’ whispered Mary, trying to rouse Kate from the feverish stupor she drifted in and out of.
‘I don’t have a daughter,’ croaked Kate, ‘the King has children, but I have none of my own.’ She fell silent and Mary continued to wipe her brow with the fresh linens Cat passed across. Kate dragged another shuddering breath. ‘I might have had a baby if I had married Tom …..’ Her voice faded away and she slipped back into unconsciousness.
‘Mother, what is going to happen?’ whispered Cat frantically as Mary laid Kate’s head gently back on the fresh pillow.
‘We stay and nurse her, Cat. This is what happens when women aren’t looked after properly during childbirth.’ Mary looked down at the wasted body of the former Queen. ‘A good midwife is the best investment, because the nearest a woman ever comes to death is when she is giving birth.’
‘But will she recover, Mother? Will she get well and bring up her own child?’ Cat’s voice was breaking as tears rolled down her cheeks. Mary met her anguished gaze with tears in her own eyes.
‘I don’t think she’s got the strength to recover, Cat. I think the most we can do for her now is keep her as comfortable as we can, and stay with her till the end.’
***
‘Don’t cry so hard, my love.’ Ralph held Meg tightly as she sobbed into his shoulder.
‘I can’t help it, Ralph. Every time I think of her, so frightened, so distressed and upset. Too upset to even hold her own baby! Oh, Ralph! Do you think she even knew she had a daughter?’ Meg collapsed against him in a wave of fresh sobs, sorrow for Kate’s death mixing with anger at the behaviour of Tom Seymour.
‘She’ll know now, my love. She’ll look down from Heaven and see the care you and Cat and Lady Mary are giving to her daughter, and she’ll smile.’
Meg tried to stop crying, but still hid her face in Ralph’s kerchief, shoulders shaking. She lifted her tear-stained face and met his kind eyes.
‘I hope she can’t see her husband!’ The venom in Meg’s usually gentle voice made Ralph’s brows rise.
Ralph sighed. ‘Tom Seymour will get what he deserves in the end, my love. Please don’t upset yourself about him.’
‘But how could he ride away, Ralph? Lady Kate just dead after four days of hyste
ria and hallucinations, his daughter newly born, and he rides away to court. He just left!’ Meg was starting to cry again, sorrow and anger mixed in her tears.
‘There’s plenty of room for Frances here with Richard, sweet Meg. We will all love her, and tell her about her mother when she is older.’
Meg looked at her husband, the man she loved above all else, and smiled though her tears.
‘Frances and Richard will have to make more room in their nursery, my love.’ She rubbed her belly gently and watched Ralph’s face light up.
‘Another child, my Meg? That’s wonderful!’ He grinned as he picked her up and whirled her round. ‘But with another child on the way, my gift to you might be even more welcome.’
Meg looked at him, doubt furrowing her brow as he went across to the huge desk and took something from the drawer. He walked back towards her and held out his hand. She held her hand out to him, mirroring his gesture, and he dropped something cold and metallic in her outstretched palm.
‘Keys?’ She was still puzzled.
‘To Sutton House, my love. Our house, for you to take care of as you see fit. Not too far away from here, so you can help here if you choose to. But only if you choose. It is time for you to become Lady Sadler, my Lady wife, Lady Mother of all my children and mistress of your own home.’
Meg smiled delightedly at Ralph, wondering again at how lucky she was to have found a good, kind man who loved her. And she loved him with her whole being, and would, for the rest of their lives.
In The Midst of Madness: Tudor Chronicles Book Two Page 19