Elizabeth, the Witch's Daughter

by Elizabeth, the Witch's Daughter (retail) (epub)

  She laughed. “Fie upon you to startle me so,” she scolded him.

  He towered above her. His head was thrown back as he laughed with her, his strong, white teeth visible in his tanned face while his dark eyes twinkled with mirth. He was dressed as usual in the finest clothes which he carried with a casual elegance. He sat down beside her, picking up her book.

  “What is this you are reading? ’Tis dull stuff for a young maid,” he chided her. “Days such as this are not meant to be spent in study,” he went on. “They should be spent in laughter. Ah! Bess, what it is to be young,” he sighed, “especially in Maytime.” He leaned towards her, touching the golden curls. “Mistress Ashley will be vexed,” he scolded her. “’Tis not proper.” He tweaked a strand of her hair, reminding her that Kat would indeed be put out that she had taken off her hood.

  “Today I care not,” she laughed.

  He looked at her intently and she felt the change in his mood.

  “Bess, you are beautiful,” he murmured.

  Before she could speak he took her face gently in his hands and drawing her close kissed her full upon the mouth. She felt a wave of dizziness sweep over her. She felt weak and helpless. The sweet sounds of the spring afternoon faded into the background. As his warm mouth continued to crush her lips she felt herself respond. Her arms went round his neck and she kissed him with a new eagerness and seemed held in the spell of this new magic for an endless moment. At last he released her. She sighed, a smile touching the corners of her mouth as she slowly opened her eyes.

  Instantly her dream was shattered as she saw to her horror Katherine staring at her. Katherine’s face was ashen and her eyes were wide with disbelief.

  Elizabeth tore herself out of Tom’s arms with a cry of pain and gathering up her skirts she ran blindly on through the garden. The thorns of the roses tore at her skirts but a far worse pain tore at her heart which hammered against her ribs until she thought it would burst.

  At last she reached her room and slamming the door shut behind her, threw herself onto the bed. Never, if she lived to be a hundred, would she forget Katherine’s face! How could she have done such a thing to Katherine who had been so good to her? The tears poured unheeded down her cheeks and she shook with sobs while her fingers unconsciously tore the edge of the pillow to shreds.

  “What now?” she thought wildly, “What now? I will be sent away and everyone will know. Oh, why, why was I such a fool? Poor, poor Kate!”

  Gradually her sobs grew less violent and she got up. She crossed to the chest upon which lay her toiletries. She bathed her face, tidied her tangled curls and replaced her hood. She had to face them sometime, she knew, and courage was one thing she did not lack but her heart quailed at the thought of meeting Katherine’s eyes.

  Suddenly the door opened and was immediately slammed shut.

  Kat! She had forgotten Kat! She spun round and saw instantly by Kat’s face that she knew.

  “Kat, I…” she started to explain but got no further for Kat rounded on her and for the first time in her life forgot Elizabeth’s exalted position.

  “Well, Madam?” she fumed, “have you so far forgotten your position that you must behave like a low, tavern wench? That you must throw all Her Grace’s kindness in her face? She who has been a mother to you! To behave like a trollop with her own husband!” she raged.

  Elizabeth’s overwrought nerves snapped and she fell sobbing to her knees.

  Kat’s anger cooled slightly as she raised her weeping mistress.

  “Bess, Bess, how could you?” she admonished.

  “It just happened, Kat, I meant no harm,” the girl told her between sobs.

  Kat stroked the red head while Elizabeth continued to sob, whilst Kat thought bitterly that this whole sorry affair would never have taken place had Anne been allowed to live.

  Kat helped her undress. She combed out the long curls and bathed the hot, swollen face and aching head and helped Elizabeth to bed. Elizabeth lay for a long time shaking, the enormity of what she had done overwhelming her. She would have to go away, she knew that, but where? What would Katherine tell everyone? She had disgraced her rank and had cruelly hurt Katherine.

  She went over in her mind the events of the afternoon trying to sort out the mess. Her head ached, her eyes smarted and her thoughts were a confused muddle.

  Suddenly, with blinding clarity, there came back to her the minutes before Tom had appeared at her side. The eerie stillness in the garden and the feeling of foreboding. She sat up. This then was what Anne had come to warn her of. That was why she had felt her presence so close.

  “If only I had heeded you,” she moaned and flung herself down on the pillows. She sobbed pitifully for now more than at any other time she needed the comfort that only a mother can give. When she could cry no more tears she fell into a fitful sleep with her mother’s name upon her lips.

  She was at her studies next morning when she received Katherine’s summons. All morning she had been unable to concentrate, her mind wandering from the passage she was supposed to be translating. Mr Ascham had noticed and remarked upon her lack of concentration but all the satisfaction he received was a sullen look.

  Her courage failed her as she reached the door to Katherine’s chamber. Her heart raced as she fought down a wild impulse to run. Timidly she knocked. Katherine’s voice bade her enter.

  Katherine was seated in a high-backed chair and to outward appearances she looked composed but Elizabeth’s sharp eyes took in the crumpled handkerchief in hand.

  “Come closer,” she said and the girl moved slowly towards the chair.

  With her eyes downcast, her long, white hands folded demurely in front of her she waited for Katherine’s wrath to descend upon her bowed head.

  When Katherine at last spoke her words surprised Elizabeth.

  “God has given you great qualities. Cultivate them always and labour to improve them,” she said quietly. She paused as though choosing her next words with great care. “I believe that you are destined by heaven to be Queen of England some day,” she said. “Always conduct yourself with that thought in mind,” she finished. She rose heavily for her pregnancy had begun to show, and turning from the girl she continued, “I have made arrangements for you to stay with Lord and Lady Denny at Cheshunt. You realise that you cannot stay here any longer. You will leave the week after Whitsun.”

  Elizabeth’s heart sank. Of course she knew that she would have to leave but a tiny spark of hope had remained. She sank into a curtsy.

  “Thank you, Your Grace,” she answered in a choked voice.

  She rose and turned to the door but as she put out her hand to open it Katherine stopped her.

  “Bess,” she cried.

  Turning around Elizabeth saw the tears in Kate’s eyes. She threw out her hands, palms upwards, in the age-old gesture of appeal but Katherine, blinded by tears, shook her head. She groped for the chair and sank down with her hands covering her face. Elizabeth’s hands dropped limply to her sides and with a heavy heart she turned and left.

  Later as she sat alone in her own room Katherine’s words came back to her. Katherine had voiced her destiny; the dream that she carried in her heart. In that moment Elizabeth Tudor made up her mind. From now on all her energies would be devoted to preparing herself for the time when Katherine’s words would come true. Her experience of yesterday had taught her a valuable lesson, one which she would never forget. There would be no more scandal attached to her name.

  She raised her head proudly, ”I will rule this land,” she vowed, “if I have to fight to the last drop of my blood I will be Queen!”

  She had spoken the words aloud and the voice, harsh and determined, seemed to belong to another person.

  Chapter Five

  Lord and Lady Denny welcomed her warmly. Lady Denny was a friend of Katherine’s and Lord Denny had been a companion and Gentleman of the Privy Chamber to her father. She did not know whether they had been informed of the reason for her visit but n
either of them gave her any indication that they knew.

  She missed Katherine dreadfully and to Kat’s concern became listless and sickly. Katherine and Tom had moved to Sudeley Castle in Gloucestershire, ostensibly to await the birth of the child, and had taken Jane Grey with them. Elizabeth wrote to them frequently but she felt forlorn and left out when she received their letters relating incidents of daily life at Sudeley. So she spent the summer of 1548 aimlessly wandering the gardens and trying to summon some enthusiasm for her studies.

  On the 30th August, Katherine’s daughter was born. She was christened Mary. Tom was in no way disappointed for he wrote at once to his brother, the Protector, delightedly informing him of the birth of his daughter. Elizabeth wrote congratulating the happy parents and asked to be kept informed of the progress of both mother and child.

  To her consternation the news she received was not good! Katherine had developed a fever and was delirious. Elizabeth was torn between her affection for her stepmother and anxiety should Katherine in her delirium blurt out all that had occurred to warrant Elizabeth’s removal to Cheshunt.

  She soon found that her fears were justified.

  “I am not well handled,” Katherine confided to Lady Tyrwhit her friend. “Those that be about me care not for me but stand laughing at my grief.”

  As she spoke these words she was holding the Admiral’s hand.

  “Why sweetheart,” he exclaimed, “I would do you no hurt!”

  “No, My Lord. I think you have given me many shrewd taunts,” she flung at him.

  The Admiral was embarrassed and upset and lay down beside her, trying to calm her.

  She had wanted to have a full talk with her physician after her delivery, she continued fretfully, but could not for fear of displeasing him. Her ladies exchanged meaningful glances and later the word “poison” crept into conversations concerning Katherine Parr.

  All this Elizabeth heard in silence but with a heart full of sorrow.

  It was Kat who brought the letter. In silence she handed the rolled parchment to her mistress. Slowly Elizabeth read the contents and then let the letter fall to the floor. With her head bent and in a flat, expressionless voice she said,

  “The Queen Dowager died on the 5th September.”

  As the girl did not move Kat bent and picked up the letter, glancing at it before placing it upon the table.

  “Childbirth at her age is always a dangerous thing,” she said, trying to console the girl. “She herself knew the risk.”

  Elizabeth remained silent and for once in her life Kat Ashley was lost for words. As Elizabeth continued to stare blindly ahead Kat decided it would be best to leave her alone for a while.

  Elizabeth was stunned. Katherine had been the only one of her stepmothers who had provided her with a home and family and now Katherine was gone. Her heart was torn with guilt and grief and she longed to run to Kat as she had done as a child but sadly she realised that now she must face her bereavement alone and in the bitter knowledge that she had cruelly hurt a woman who had loved her as a daughter.

  She picked up the letter. Katherine was to be buried in the chapel at Sudeley with all the honours due to a Queen Dowager, with ten-year-old Jane Grey as chief mourner.

  “I am denied even that solace,” Elizabeth thought mournfully.

  The shock of Katherine’s death and the guilt she felt made her ill and for a few days she lay pale and sick. After a week she began to feel better and she was sitting propped up in bed watching Kat who was bustling about the room giving the appearance of great industry, although she was actually achieving little. As a topic of conversation Kat informed her that the Admiral was half crazed with grief, so much so that he hardly knew what he was about. Jokingly, more to try to cheer the girl, she said,

  “Now that my Lord Admiral is free and should you receive the consent of the Council, would you wish to marry him?”

  Instantly she regretted her words for Elizabeth shot upright, her eyes blazing.

  “Shame on you, Kat Ashley! I will not!” she spat at Kat.

  Kat was taken aback. “Why not?” she stammered.

  Elizabeth did not answer and had sunk back onto her pillows.

  “Then at least write to him and comfort him in his sorrow,” Kat persisted, somewhat aggrieved.

  “I will not for he needs it not!” came back the cold reply.

  Indignantly, Kat left.

  *

  In October Elizabeth returned to Hatfield. As she took her leave of Lord and Lady Denny she thanked them for their kindness, Lady Denny pressed into her hands a small book of devotions which had once belonged to Katherine.

  “Thank you, I shall treasure it,” Elizabeth murmured, her eyes filling with tears.

  She rode in silence, trying to hide the grief she still felt in her heart.

  When they reached Hatfield she reigned in her mount and gazed down the long drive. The old house with its time-mellowed stone walls, tall chimneys and high arched windows was home to Elizabeth. Here within these thick walls she would live quietly, preparing herself for the future while time healed the scars of grief and remorse.

  She soon found, however, that she could not shut out the world for events were taking place in London which touched her even at Hatfield. The Admiral—apparently completely recovered from his wife’s death—was again making enquiries into her affairs. He had completely charmed Kat who was openly aiding and abetting him, as was Thomas Parry her cofferer. Elizabeth was troubled.

  “Why can he not leave me alone?” she thought. “Has he not caused me enough trouble? Why always me?” She blushed as the memory of that disastrous kiss came back to her. “Does he want me so much?” she asked herself, but she knew the answer to that question. She was no fool; for the last time she had allowed her heart to over-rule her head. “No, Tom Seymour is an ambitious man,” she thought. It was not young Bess he wanted—it was the Princess Elizabeth!

  To her alarm the gossip outside Hatfield grew. Kat was a born gossip and her husband tried to warn her of where this latest undertaking with the Admiral may lead her. Kat contemptuously shrugged aside all his entreaties. She felt certain that she was doing the right thing for she laboured under the delusion that Elizabeth really did wish to marry Tom Seymour but she was just being cautious.

  The Admiral himself had thrown all caution to the wind as his jealousy of the Protector grew. He was openly putting forward all manner of schemes for ending the Protectorate and was determined to have one of the Princesses for his wife. He preferred Elizabeth who was the younger and more desirable. Elizabeth heard with mounting dismay the story of the Admiral’s open quarrel with Lord Russel, the Lord Privy Seal, which concerned herself.

  These two gentlemen had found themselves side by side in the procession to open Parliament and the Admiral had taken the opportunity of breaching the subject. Lord Russel tried to warn him of the risks he was taking but Tom Seymour refused to take heed.

  “My Lord, if ye go about any such thing, ye seek the means to undo yourself,” Lord Russel warned. “There are rumours abroad concerning yourself and the Lady Elizabeth,” he went on.

  Tom Seymour became annoyed. “In truth, Sir, I demand to know the names of those that spread these evil tales?” he told Lord Russel but the Lord Privy Seal repeatedly refused to name anyone.

  They had met once more, three days later, this time in a procession from the Protector’s house to Westminster and the Admiral again brought the subject up.

  Lord Russel persistently refused to divulge any names and again warned the Admiral.

  Tom Seymour was beyond all caution.

  “It is convenient for them to marry,” he said. “Why not I, or another made by the King their father?”

  Lord Russel commented drily that perhaps King Edward had inherited his father’s suspicious nature concerning those persons close to the throne but the Admiral felt assured of his nephew’s goodwill.

  Lord Russel then asked what dowry the Admiral hoped to receive.
Seymour blithely answered.

  “Three thousand pounds per annum.”

  Russel promptly deflated him by informing him that he would get no more than £10,000 in money, plate and goods but definitely no land!

  There had then followed a heated argument, to the great interest of everyone within earshot, and Lord Russel had finally declared loudly, no doubt for the benefit of all the interested parties,

  “By God! For my part I will say Nay to it, for it is clean against the King’s will!”

  Shortly before Christmas, Thomas Parry went to London for Elizabeth was to visit her brother but had no official residence as Durham House was being used at that time as a Mint. It just so happened that one of the first people Parry met was none other than the Admiral who enquired the reason for the cofferer coming to town. Parry told him the reason and the Admiral offered to lend Elizabeth his own house, Seymour Place, and Parry returned to Hatfield with the good news.

  Elizabeth could do no less than accept. She asked Parry how my Lord Admiral looked and prompted by this favourable reply Parry took it upon himself to ask impertinently,

  “Will you marry him?”

  He was instantly sorry. His mistress’s eyes were hard as she silently surveyed him.

  “I will do as God shall put into my mind,” she answered stonily. “Who asked you to question me?” she fired at him.

  Confused, Parry stammered, “Why no one, My Lady.”

  She signed for him to leave for she was very uneasy. Events were going too fast—she had no intention of marrying Tom Seymour or anyone else for that matter. She recognised him now for the grasping, ambitious troublemaker that he was and trouble was the one thing she was determined to stay out of. Perhaps it was as well that she would be at court for Christmas then she could see for herself how things stood. First she would sound out Kat when she returned for she too had gone to the City and Kat would be sure to know the latest rumours and gossip.

  When Kat returned it was with even more bad news. Indignantly she told her mistress that she had been sent for by the Duchess of Somerset.