by G Lawrence
“You don’t think she could be Hertford’s mistress, or Herbert’s?”
“I would hope not, Majesty. I keep a close eye on the unwed ladies, especially at night. She and her sister share rooms, and I always check they are in them at night.”
“I am sure, Kat, that whatever is going on with Katherine, there is no blame attached to you.” Kat looked mollified, and I went on, “but there is something going on. Herbert seems to have removed his affections, and with the loss of Hertford too… Perhaps she is low in spirits and this affects her appetite?”
“Troubles always make you cease to eat, Majesty.” Kat’s voice hummed with disapproval. “But people are different, I suppose.”
“I will ask my physicians to examine her,” I said. “When we return to London. If she is indeed ill then perhaps they can help her, and I would much rather that was the case! If that girl is with child, by Herbert, Hertford, or any other, it brings disgrace upon the royal house!”
We left the company of John Grey and made for Beaulieu Palace. Katherine ceased to wear the necklace Herbert had given her as a token of affection. When I asked her sister about it, Mary Grey’s cheeks turned crimson. “Herbert has asked for his tokens back, Majesty,” she confessed. “He no longer wishes to marry my sister, although Katherine is at a loss to know why. She is most distressed, Majesty. She eats walnut comfits and sweetmeats all the time, trying to find the sweetness she lacks in life, in such treats.”
I nodded. At least this was an explanation, and a reasonable one. Whilst I lost all desire to eat when beset by troubles, I had seen it could have the opposite effect on others. But I was still disturbed. Why would Herbert so suddenly remove his affections? The plan to marry Herbert to Katherine was dissolving, and I could not get a straight answer from anyone as to why. Pembroke was at a loss, and promised to talk to his son. Katherine could offer no explanation, and was close to tears when I confronted her about it. It was puzzling… Most puzzling.
*
The summer turned hot and uncomfortable at Beaulieu. We fled the stuffy air of the palace and sought cool shade under grand oaks and ash trees in the parks. As we rode out before the dawn, the air was cool and still, but there was warmth on the breeze from the rising sun. Mountains of cushions were brought out on carts, along with chairs, stools and rugs. Whilst we rode through the parks, my servants would make a fire to cook our kills, arrange the furniture and cushions, and set up musicians to play for us. When we arrived, hungry, thirsty and happy, there was a chamber constructed for us under the dappled shade of the trees. We ate outdoors, feasting on tender, fresh meat, roasted over open fires, and falling from the bone like melted butter. Bread came slathered with fresh new cheese, topped with shaved, hot, horseradish root gathered from the hedges, teetering on generous amounts of salty, yellow butter. Willow herb fluttered by the edge of pools and marshes where my servants buried jugs of ale to keep them cool for our meals. We would eat, talk and converse, watching the glory of England in summer unfold about us.
The parks were green and lush. Water trickled harmoniously down tiny sparkling steams. Barley and wheat were ripening in the fields. Stoats roamed through their golden and green stalks making sudden rushes through the undergrowth as they hunted mouse and vole. Fresh fruit was plentiful, and ripe, crisp pippins, sweet strawberries and delectable plump cherries were regular attendants at our picnics. Stewed into sauces, or baked in the palace kitchens and presented as pies, they were brought to us outside. The taste of summer fruits upon our pink tongues was fresh, sweet and delicious. Flowers were turning into fluffy seed heads, and winged seeds flew on the breeze. Although Katherine gave me reason to ponder on her with concern, we were a bright party that season.
At least, most of the time…
“Summer is here, Majesty,” said Robin one day as we sat under the shade of a giant oak, listening to musicians play. We had eaten well, and now the hot sunshine was affecting our senses. Many of our party had fallen asleep in the shade, propped up on cushions of white, purple and green velvet. Kat was snoring gently, her head on John’s lap as he stroked the hair that had tumbled from her riding cap. Even Blanche was nodding. Younger courtiers were playing dice and laughing quietly as Heneage entertained them with japes and riddles. Until Robin spoke, I had been quite content, my mind wandering pleasantly over nothing; free of all worry and thought. But peace, it seemed, was not to be found that day.
I glanced about me and opened my eyes wide. “You are right, my lord,” I exclaimed. “How observant of you!”
“You did say that when summer was here, there was a matter for us to speak on.”
Curse you, Robin! I thought. Can you go not a day without pestering me?
“I remember no such matter, my lord,” I said evenly, flapping a fan to ward off a flying bug bent on drinking my blood. “Perhaps there is too much chatter in my ears of late. People say the same things over and over, so I no longer hear their words.” His expression became unhappy. It pained me to see Robin thus, but what was I to do? Did he really think I would rush to marry him after all he had done?
“Do you love me no more?” Robin’s eyes were wounded. He looked like Pembroke’s mournful hound when Gardiner plucked hair from his tail. But I would not be moved.
“I love those who deserve my love, my lord. Just as I turn my face from those who try to force my hand and rule me.” I rose and called to my servants to start packing up. Kat lifted her head from John’s lap, rubbing her eyes. Blanche started at my call, and then tried to pretend she had not been asleep, throwing herself into giving such sudden orders to the younger courtiers that they all knew she had been nodding into slumber. For a while, I ignored Robin’s eyes burning into my back, but when we were ready to leave, I looked back.
He stood under the oak tree, his face dark in the shadows. His hands were listless at his sides. His shoulders drooped and his face was sad, and angry. As I looked at him, he turned away and made himself busy with the horses. There was a part of me that pitied him, but there was a still stronger element which told me this was all he deserved.
*
We left Beaulieu three days later, heading for Colchester, and the air turned hot and sticky. There was an ominous feel to the skies; they were close and charged. I knew the signs of a summer storm. We had not many miles to travel, and I was glad of it, for I had no wish for my gowns and bed, as well as all my chests of clothes, linen and other, precious sundries, to be ruined by inclement weather. We rode out, past fields where the first hay was being cut. There is nothing like the smell of fresh cut hay… Rich and swollen on the breeze, the sultry scent flooded through my nostrils and filled my chest. I went to grin at Robin and then remembered I was displeased with him. I stared at the road ahead instead.
We rode past orchards of cherry trees and heard the bright songs of the maids who harvested fruit. Butterflies were abundant in the air, and I saw many brooks and ponds running low of water as the echoes of the streams that had fed them dried to dust under the hot sun. Starlings whistled on rooftops, and house sparrows clustered about flowers where the insects were thick. The crops in the fields were growing golden, and the crackle and creak of their ripening stalks could be heard when one listened closely. As we rode on, the sun grew hotter and the air became closer. Beads of sweat broke out on my forehead, and the horses started to sigh, their eyes glancing about them, for they too knew what the charged air heralded. A storm was coming. The air became humid and static and the countryside fell quiet. The hot air closed in on me. I dabbed at my throat and face with a handkerchief until a breath of cold wind ripped through the close air, bringing relief, but also warning.
We were almost at our next stop when the wind began to pick up pace, keening through ripe crop stalks. People we passed on the road gazed watchfully, warily, at the skies and hurried on their way once their bows and curtseys were made. Farmers started to harry their workers, sensing the storm was upon us. We made it to the house of St Osythe just as the storm broke. It st
arted with large drops of rain falling from the warm sky, and then a rumble of thunder sounded from far over the hills. The rain fell faster and faster, changing from huge, lazy drops to pelting, tiny ones. We rode hard for the gates of St Osythe, screaming with both horror and delight. As we reached the house and dismounted, Robin threw a cloak over my head and bundled me inside. Not the most ceremonious entrance for a queen… We stood in the doorway, laughing at our close escape, as the rest of our party dismounted and ran for cover. Rain poured from the skies, running through the courtyard and paths in swift-moving streams. The glorious smell of baked earth flushed with new moisture rose from the ground.
“Thank you for the cloak, my lord.” I handed it back to Robin. “Although you saved me from the rain, I don’t believe you aided my appearance.” My hair was coming loose from its pins, my riding hood was crooked and my damp dress clung unpleasantly to my skin.
“You only look more beautiful to me, Your Majesty, when you are in slight disarray,” Robin replied. “Then, you are more like the girl I remember, than the fearsome and intractable Queen.”
“I will always be that girl at heart, Robin.” I touched his face with affection, feeling my previous anger dissolve. It was ever so. Was there any man who could make me as warm as he? And yet, was there any man who could make me burn with rage as Robin could? “But I will ever, too, be the Queen, Robin. I cannot be one without the other.”
His face grew as sullen as the skies. “I must see to the horses,” he said, bowing low and heading for the stables.
“And I must see to my hair,” I said to our host, who chuckled.
The whole court was not housed here. St Osythe was a small manor, and many had to seek accommodation in local towns and villages, in rafter, barn and attic. I enjoyed having more intimate company from time to time on progress. It was as close to privacy as I ever got. I danced that night with Robin as thunder roared and lightning crashed. Our joined hands clasped as, about us, the storm raged. He sought no more to talk on the odious subject of marriage, and so I was given a chance to enjoy his company, rather than thinking on him as one of the pesky insects that had bitten my skin that day.
“Lord Robin looks well this evening,” Kat noted as I paused from dancing and allowed Robin to partner Bess Parr. Bess looked well and hale; laughing and dancing. She had said little of her canker. I hoped it had left her in peace.
“He always looks well,” I breathed, feeling the wine in my blood fire my passion for him. Robin danced like Dionysus.
“And yet does not always act well, towards you, Majesty,” Kat reminded me primly.
“Give him a chance, Kat,” I urged, wanting to be generous. “A chance to be my friend once more.”
“Sometimes I think he has had enough chances, madam,” she said, taking her husband’s hand to dance. It was not enough to ruin that wild and eerie night, but I admit Kat’s words pulled my spirits down. I went to my bed late and lay awake, listening to the crashing of the winds and the pelting rain upon the slate roof tiles.
When I slept, my dreams were filled with water, with the sea. Great waves rose and fell over me as I lay, tempest-tossed, helpless; carried by the power of the oceans to distant shores.
*
By morning, the storm had passed. The skies were bright and the earth damp. There was that fresh, wonderful smell, as the scent of wet earth rides upon waves of sunlight. The world smelt new and good; clean and inviting. We rode on for Ipswich, with much merry jesting and conversation on the way.
Reaching Ipswich, however, I found myself less pleased. This was an area where many ardent Protestants had settled, and it was abundantly clear to me that they had forgotten many of my decrees on religion. I saw priests in churches not wearing surplices, and many were married with children. I had allowed priests to marry, but with reluctance for I believed they served God better without distractions. Even though I had allowed this, however, I did not want women living in churches with their husbands, or co-habiting in colleges. Wives and families of priests were supposed to find lodgings elsewhere, so they did not interfere with their husband’s duties. I did not allow nobles to house their wives at court, just for the sake of them being there, so why should I alter this policy with regards to my Church? Seeing my disapproval, Cecil pressed a firm hand to my arm, quietly assuring me he would deal with the issues with all speed. Thinking I might banish the wives and families I saw, or revoke the right for my priests to marry entirely, he tried to head off my temper before it broke.
“They could at least pretend they are following my restrictions, Cecil!” I cried as I entered my chambers. He scampered behind me trying to keep up. “All I ask of my people is if they have a mind to disobey me in their hearts, that they make public demonstration of obedience. The same is true for Protestants as for Catholics.”
“I will remind them of their duties, Majesty,” poor Cecil agreed. “By the morning, you will find much altered, I assure you.”
I breathed in and let it out as I cursed. “By the faith! How much do I ask, Spirit? How little do I ask? Outward obedience, that is all, to keep the peace! Oh, have done with you.” I waved him away, vexed by his anxious face. “Send Kat and Blanche in. I will eat in my chambers. I am in no mood for company”
And it was this night, as I raged in my chambers about the cheek of my clergy, that a visit was paid to one of my ladies.
I did not know of this for some days, but when the news came, another storm broke, and I was no mere observer anymore. I became the lightning and the thunder. I was the fire in the skies. I was the tempest breaking over the head of my cousin, Katherine Grey.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Richmond Palace
February 1603
Let me tell you now of events I did not see, but were later revealed to me. Imagine I have become a speck of coal dust, floating in the hallways of our Ipswich lodgings that summer night in 1561. Imagine I drift from room to room, freed from the prison of my hearth, a light sparkle of white carried on the breeze, sped along by warm draughts. I will show you much. I will be your eyes.
It was late. Members of the court had eaten in the hall, their Queen absent as she raged in her chambers. Courtiers played at cards and dice as night fell, and many made for their rooms early, seeking welcome rest, after weeks of travel along the bumpy roads of England. Down the dark halls, a figure walked. She moved with haste, her hands bunching restlessly into fists, and then splaying out into rigid-fingered spikes. She made for the rooms of Lady St Loe and she was nervous. The bulk she carried on her front was becoming more noticeable every day. The pleated inlays of her gown, which had concealed her secret for months, were becoming increasingly obvious. She had small time left before everyone would know her secret. The secret of the child she carried. But this was not the only secret in the heart of Lady Katherine Grey. She had much hidden that was about to become known. Her breath puffed from her lips, sour with the tang of fear. Katherine had been frightened for a long time. She had hidden it under bright gaiety and had striven not to think on her woes, but there comes a time when even the strongest fantasy cannot conceal reality. Katherine Grey needed help.
Knocking at the door, Katherine waited, her heart pounding loudly in the empty silence of the corridor. When the call came to enter, Katherine rushed in, her spirits almost deserting her. She had chosen to reveal her secrets to Lady St Loe, for Bess had been brought up in the household of Katherine’s mother and Katherine hoped she was confiding in a friend. She found Bess sitting alone, reading. Bess got up and made a curtsey. “Lady Grey, what brings you here at this time of night?”
Katherine swallowed hard. She had to say something before she lost her courage. “I am in trouble, Bess,” she admitted, her voice scarce louder than a whisper. “And I need help.” She gazed up at Bess, meeting brown eyes that had begun to narrow in suspicion. Bess’s gaze was drawn to the lump on Katherine’s front and Katherine placed her hand there. It was an unconscious, protective gesture which, to a mother
of so many, as Bess was, revealed Katherine’s secret.
“You are with child,” Bess said. Katherine nodded silently, her eyes filling with tears.
“I do not know what to do, Bess.”
“Who is the father?” asked Bess, her mind afire with all the trouble this would cause, for although many had suspected, there had also been a rumour that Katherine was ill. Bess had preferred to believe this rather than think the young maid had let her virtue slip.
“My husband is the father.”
“Your husband…” Bess repeated weakly. “Herbert?” she asked with desperate hope. There was slim chance he could be father to a babe clearly so long in the making. There was no answer. Katherine shook her head and bit her lip. Bess stared at her pale face. “Oh, Katherine, what have you done?”
Katherine walked to the fireplace and stood staring into the flames. Then she faced Bess with a defiant expression. “I have done nothing other than lie with my husband, as I promised when we were married.”
“When you were married without the Queen’s permission,” Bess interjected. Katherine nodded again. “You are married to Hertford,” Bess said. It was not a question but a statement of fact. Katherine nodded again and Bess walked to her, taking hold of her shoulders and shaking the girl. “Do not nod and nod at me as though you are some simpleton, Katherine Grey! Do you have any idea what you have done? You have gone against the express wishes of the Queen! You have married a man you know she did not approve for you, and have lain with him and got a child in your belly! Do you have any idea what the Queen will do when she finds out?”