The Secret Keeper: A Novel of Kateryn Parr

EIGHT

Yuletide: Year of Our Lord 1545

Winter: Year of Our Lord 1546

Brighton House, Marlborough

Hungerford Manor, Marlborough

I’d quickly written a letter to my mother and sent it with a swift messenger, to alert her to my early arrival. The queen sent me home in a fine litter at her own expense. When I had last made this journey, in reverse, my heart had been filled with girlish joy and the delightful expectations of a life of glitter and promise and escape. Now it was shot full of the lead of the court and the heavy weight of adulthood. The hours passed, snow-topped tree by snow-topped tree, as the landscape relaxed from city to clearing and then home. I breathed London out as a mist that dissipated in the cold air. I looked upon my return home with fondness and urged the driver not to tarry.

I alighted from the litter and Hugh ran from the house, a man now, though he still leapt into the air at the sight of me, as a child is wont to do. I fell into his embrace; he was large enough now to encompass me. “Dear Juliana,” he said, “how I’ve missed you. Even our mother has missed you. We are glad you have returned for a stay.”

He drew near to me and lowered his voice. “And please do share the welcome news that you’ll be taking me back with you to court upon your return.”

I choked back the sobs that wanted to be loosed, not wanting to scare him. Instead I buried myself in his embrace for a moment and let myself revel in the thought that I was safe, boringly, welcomingly safe. I hadn’t the heart to tell Hugh that I had no plans to return with or without him, and then our dog Brise came running from the stables to greet me. I pulled away, bent down, my garments already well dusted from travel, and allowed her to put her paws on my shoulders whilst she licked my face and my ears. Before long a litter of puppies came yelping, streaming out behind her. She nuzzled on them and looked upon me for my approval, which I readily gave.

I reached down and patted each in turn, so she’d know how proud I was of her brood, especially one overbold male who made it his cause to draw as close to me as Brise. By the time I left her to romp with her litter I had regained my composure.

“They’ll be good for the hunt,” Hugh said as he took my hand and lifted me up. My lower body was still sore and achy from John Temple’s attack, but Hugh mistook it for weariness from my journey. A welcome mistake.

My mother waited at the door for me. When I looked upon her countenance I was shocked, though I did my best to hide it. She looked old and weary, though still fashionable. In my mind’s eye she had only ever appeared powerful and disapproving, but I pitied her somehow and promised myself I would endeavor to be kind.

“Welcome.” She took me into her arms, though rather stiffly, and kissed both of my cheeks. “You’ll want to change afore we sup. Lucy is upstairs waiting for you.”

Hugh had one of the men of my mother’s household deliver my trunks to my chambers and, indeed, Lucy was waiting for me.

“Mistress, what be wrong?” After greeting me with delight and affection, she took my cloak from me and looked into my eyes. Of course Lucy would know right away that all was not well with me. Though it had been nearly three years since we’d parted company, she still knew me better than anyone else did.

“’Tis only the journey and the demands of the court,” I said, and softly warned her with a look not to ask more. She was glowing and happy to have me back and I did not intend to demean the festivities.

She eyed me warily but accepted my explanation. “Let me help ye wash,” she said. “And I shall bring out one a yer fine gowns for the meal.”

After the meal that night, my mother sat with me whilst Hugh directed the man who’d brought me to a warm corner in the stable whence he could return to London on the morn.

“You’re different, Juliana,” she said plainly, but not unkindly.

“’Tis the sheen of the court, Sir Thomas says,” I answered.

“I would rather say it’s womanhood. And perhaps the need to rest. How does Sir Thomas?” She nodded for one of the men-servants to stir up the sea coal heating our home. My father never allowed wood to be used; he’d preferred the costly coal. “I have sent him letters inquiring of placement for Hugh, but he has not deemed it necessary to respond to my correspondence.”

“I do not see Sir Thomas often, Mother, but when I do, he seems well.”

“Word has it that he is in love with the queen.” My mother sipped from her goblet.

I was surprised that news had traveled this far, but then not surprised when I considered how close we lived to the Seymours’ estate, Wulf Hall. “I do think he cares deeply for my lady, but she is in all manner discreet and honoring to His Majesty.” I found, and noted, my ire rising in defense of Kate toward my own mother, an unexpected reversal of loyalties.

“I’m certain that she is,” my mother said, but her tone of voice did not seem bent toward charity. “Sir Matthias and Lady Hurworth have invited us to celebrate the New Year with them. I am sure young Matthias welcomes your return visit. And you must welcome the opportunity to see him?”

Yes. Now that I was home, I had to face the question of Matthias; I could no longer avoid the topic by remaining at court. I could not tell if my mother had spoken a question or a command. “I shall look forward to the event.” I did not lie and say, “With pleasure.”

She bid me good evening. My mother was right. I had indeed matured into a woman, completely, with my eyes wide open, though certainly not by the means I would have chosen.

Within a few minutes, Hugh returned and took our mother’s place by the fire in the large, paneled hall. “I must know. Are there jousts every day? Cockfights? All manner of food and wine and beautiful women much in need of a knight’s son from Marlborough? Intrigues?”

I smiled at his enthusiasm and naivety, pleasures I had been allowed till they had been sanded away by the court slowly, day by day, year by year, till ultimately nearly all was stolen from me. My mother had noticed, but had not taken me in her arms, crooned over me, or promised to set things aright. She could not, of course. But I yearned for her to have tried.

“Yes, there are often jousts, and wrestling matches, and many beautiful women, though none have spoken to me directly of a pressing need for a knight’s son from Marlborough. And there are intrigues, of course. But most of them are of a religious nature.”

“That sounds dull.” He looked crushed, of course.

“As dull as an axe blade.” I leaned over and took his hand. “’Tis good to be home, Hugh. In many ways, the court is like the story of Saint George, with the dragon always looking for a new and beautiful maiden who will be sacrificed to him. All seek to placate him but he is never satisfied.”

Hugh leaned closer. “Do you mean the king?”

I shrugged, aware of Kate’s warning to be discreet, and knowing of Hugh’s youthful lack of discretion. “’Tis hard to tell who the dragons be, and who be the knights.”

“I should know immediately,” he said with bravado.

“I am certain that you would,” I jested. “And now, dear brother, I am tired from my long journey and must retire for the eve.”

I had worried that, once home, my visions would return to torment my sleep but blessedly, they did not, though I woke often every night with terror come upon me after seeing John Temple’s face or feeling his spent breath upon my face in my mind’s eye, or just the rustle of a noise that I feared was someone breaching my door. After some weeks resting, riding, and reading from my father’s library near a warm fire, the terrors waned. I was therefore recovered in body, but not in spirit, by the New Year.

Lady Hurworth had invited us to a large New Year’s celebration she held at Hungerford House, replete with fools, jesters, and a play. Her tables, as always, were laden with delicacies. I indulged myself lightly, though stayed myself from the strawberries, which I had not seen in our town before.

“This is a lovely evening and celebration,” I commented to her as we waited whilst the players assembled themselves afore the second act. “I am glad to be home again.”

She smiled at me, though not warmly. “’Tis not at the level you are used to at court, I am sure, but we do our best.” I dipped my head and took my leave, and as I did Matthias came alongside me and took my arm.

“Let us sit for a while,” he pleaded. “I’ve had naught but a few hours of your time since you’ve returned from court.”

I reluctantly agreed and he drew me to a softly covered bench at the edge of the large room. The fireplaces, taller than a man and twice as wide, kept the winter out of the room and the marble held their heat.

“Are you well pleased to be home?” he asked. He looked little different from when I’d left. I noticed that his dance was more waddle than rhythm and yet his constancy in his affection to me was endearing, as a brother’s might be, but I certainly felt no passion toward him, nor a desire to remain with him for life.

“I am. Court is a hive and ’tis sweet to have quiet and to repose.”

“I should rather hope that you’d be ready to remain home in repose,” he replied. “I know that my father desires to speak to your mother about … my future, your future. We have not spoken of this together afore, but I would do so now. Do you wish to remain here, which I think best, with your family? And with me? Or will you be returning to court?”

I had not expected him to speak to me so directly, and yet I’d been at court for more than two years so ’twas not surprising that he’d like to settle his plans.

“I had not given it much thought,” I answered. I would not hurt him. And yet I had little choice in the matter. Whom I would marry was up to my mother, and, to some lesser extent, my younger brother. “I have only just returned.”

“You’ve been back for more than a month,” he said, his tone nasal and high. “My younger brother will like as not be married within six months’ time and will shortly thereafter get him a son. I shan’t like to follow where I would better lead.”

“Whom shall he marry?” I turned the subject to give myself time to think my way. Although I was mildly repelled by the thought of a plodding, dull life with Matthias, I had no desire to deceive him; in fact, I would not do so. And, yet, if I agreed to marry him understanding I likely would not bear children, that’s certainly what I’d be doing. But ’twas not in my power to tell him I would or would not marry him; that rested with my mother.

“She’s the young daughter of a knight; they come from York. She’s lovely, and brings a fine dowry. Though not as fine as yours.” He belched and though he covered his mouth with his hand a hammy vapor escaped. “Some women with large dowries desire a title in exchange,” he continued. It clearly troubled him.

“I am not one of those women, but I cannot speak for what my mother desires,” I said. “Though she contented herself well with a gentry man of means.”

“And that I am,” Matthias said. “Till your brother comes of age, my father and I will take care of all the details. Sir Thomas Seymour is having one of his associates deliver another shipment from the East next week and I, not my father, shall meet him, take ownership of the goods, and disburse the funds accordingly.”

The languor that the fire and good food had blanketed me with was suddenly stripped away and the immediate problem at hand, how to be honest with Matthias whilst protecting myself and my reputation, dissipated.

“What is the name of this associate?” I asked.

Matthias looked startled. “Sir James Hart. Do you know of him?”

I steadied my breath. “Indeed I do.” I caught his querying look and sought to soothe it. “From court, of course, as I first came at the request of Sir Thomas. And now your mother’s players are back. We should honor them with our attention.”

I turned toward the play, but I did not stay my mind upon their lines, resting instead upon the fact that Jamie would be in Marlborough within the week.

He arrived eight days later. Lucy was in my chamber, sorting through my jewelry, both paste and proud, and then rubbing them with silk, when she glanced out the window.

“Mistress! He’s here. Tha one who brought you tha strawberries.”

“Thank you, Lucy.”

“You do na seem enthused.” She knew how happy I’d been when Jamie had come to see me in London and had most likely overheard our kiss.

“I’m not, really,” I lied as I froze in place. I had wished to be indifferent toward him but I’d still chosen to wear my best gowns day after day in case he should arrive unexpectedly. My mother had commented that we were, in fact, in Marlborough and not London and there was no need for me to array myself in finery at all times. She did not know that I dressed in feminine anticipation.

I glanced out the window and saw him greet and win over Brise and her pups. That brought an unplanned smile and an unwelcome softening. Matthias did not like dogs, not even at hunt, though he had to use them when he did. I heard Jamie speak with my mother’s steward, who soon climbed the winding stairs and knocked upon my chamber door.

“Mistress Juliana, there’s a man here from court that says he has correspondence for you from Her Grace the queen.”

I looked in my glass to ascertain that my hair was not unruly; indeed, ’twas not, as Lucy had recently finished fixing it. Then I opened the door. “I shall see him presently. Please inform my mother that we have a guest.”

The steward nodded and left and within a minute I descended the circular staircase and went into my mother’s receiving chamber.

Jamie stood when he saw me, and I inhaled deeply as I looked into his eyes and held his gaze and offered him my hand. He kissed it, and for a moment I felt the warmth spread and then my body, against my will, clenched tight like a fist. I withdrew my hand.

“I hope the New Year finds you well,” I said, keeping my voice as even as possible. “I am well pleased to hear that you have earned your knighthood, not that ’twas ever in doubt. Congratulations.”

“Thank you, Juliana. The New Year does find me well, but I admit to being better of it now,” he said, his voice lightly jesting but tender all the same. I indicated that we should be seated and I chose a seat not next to him but not too far away, either. I did not want us to have to rely upon raised voices but did not want to be so close as to lose my sensibilities.

“I’ve missed you at court,” he said. “When Seymour mentioned that he was coming to Marlborough to meet with an associate and make a delivery, as well as bring a letter to you from the queen, I asked if I could come in his stead.”

He had sought me out.

My heart reached toward him, wishing, wanting him to say more, and yet my mind wished his lips to still because I did not want to be forced to give the answer I knew honor demanded I must.

“What did Sir Thomas say?” I asked.

“He agreed. He was not surprised. I—I think he knows that I am soft toward you. He indicated that you care for me too.”

“I do.” Endeavoring to keep my voice steady so I did not sound like a petulant child, I spoke. “The last time I saw you, Sir James, you did not seem to prefer me to the company you kept, nor even make time to speak with me.”

“I am heartily sorry,” he said. “I grew distracted talking with many I hadn’t seen in overlong. When I saw that you had retired for the evening without my having had a chance to seek you out, I repented of my wasted hours. I sought you several days hence, when I had leave to do so, but was told you had returned home to Marlborough.”

“It rather seems to me that you are like the pit of a peach, Jamie. Always completely surrounded by soft flesh.” I could not keep back the smile that twitched upon my lips.

At that he laughed. “I should take offense, lady, but you put the barb so prettily that I cannot. ’Twas true of me, at one time, I admit. And most recent, though I shall not own up to even a tithe of what I am certain to be accused of. Yet, of late I find myself changed in that. When I returned home I found my friends married and with sons of their own, enjoying the comfort of the hearth. I find that I no longer take pleasure in the superficial company of insubstantial ladies. I much prefer the beautiful, congenial, and forthright charms of only one unspoilt maiden. Her name is Juliana St. John. And I hope she’ll let me pay heed to her when I am not at sea.”

He took my hand in his and I allowed him to hold it, though I still felt tense. I am no longer an unspoilt maiden.

“I have a letter from the queen.” He withdrew it from a leather pouch. “She’s told me that she desires to have you back at court and hopes that she can convince you to return.”

I took the letter from him, but did not open it.

“Do you plan to return?” he asked.

“I do not yet know.”

He moved to the seat next to me. “When I was completing the delivery of goods to your father’s business partner, Matthias made it clear that he hoped that you would remain here. Do you have an agreement with him?”

“There is no agreement presently, though ’tis possible that my mother should prefer to make that arrangement shortly, which would forestall my leaving for court.”

He said nothing. I could hear the deep stillness of someone listening out of sight, behind the doors.

“My father wished otherwise for me,” I finally admitted.

“I wish otherwise too,” Jamie answered. “Greatly. Do you?”

“What I thought I knew, I know not. My heart is unclear. I have been praying for direction, but the answer has tarried.”

It was not the answer he wanted and it was not the one I truly wanted to give, and yet it was the one I felt was right then, and so I offered it. I could sense that his heart fell, along with his countenance, in tandem with both of my own.

A moment later, my mother joined us and insisted that Jamie dine with us afore his long ride back to London. She was a perfect hostess and did not seek, this once, to overshine me. He made good conversation and shared tidbits of court news, including that the king was growing ever more ill and cantankerous and had to be pushed about in a chair upon wheels and hoisted up the stairways. I knew the king’s mood would be trying for Kate.

My mother withdrew and left us to talk for a while. He told me more of his family, especially his nephews, whom he clearly adored, though he referred to them as Rascal and Scamp. I told him more of my father and my childhood and for a few hours I forgot my demons long enough to allow myself to laugh and be young again.

Jamie finally brought the early afternoon to a close. “I must take my leave as ’tis a long, hard ride back to London and I leave to sea shortly. When I return to court, I shall seek you, and hope to find you.” He took both my hands in his own but I felt little. I longed for, I yearned for, the pleasure and joy and yea, the flush of heat and passion and restrained desire I had felt some months back when he had touched me. No matter how I tried to summon them, they would not come. John Temple had robbed me of more than my maidenhood.

I stood at the door and watched as Jamie rode away, trailing dust behind him.

“I thot ye were not enthused for him,” Lucy said, coming up behind me.

“The day may come when I am unable to appreciate a fine man upon a fine horse as he takes his leave,” I snapped. “But that day has not yet arrived.”

She grinned and as I looked at her I knew she was happy to see my vinegar stirred.

Jamie had not kissed me afore he left.

I knew not whether that was because he thought I might be spoken for by Matthias, or whether he sensed my tensing to his touch. I was not certain if I was pleased or sorrowed by the lack of his kiss, as nothing good could come of knocking upon a door that would never be opened. Would I ever feel desire again? And even if I did, what man would want to live without the hope of sons to inherit his hard-won purse, his lands, his titles, and provide said pleasure at hearth? None I knew of, nor had ever met.

I was also uncertain if a man could change, as Jamie had said he had. I recalled a motto one of our tutors had Hugh and me memorize from Euripides. Time will discover everything … it is a babbler and speaks even when no question is put.

That night, I took Kate’s letter to my chamber but before I read it I closed my eyes and held in my mind the wondrous picture of Jamie’s face and the resonance of his laughter and words.

And yet, I was no longer who he thought me to be; I wanted both the man and his good opinion. As it seemed unlikely that I could have the former, I would do nothing to disabuse him of the latter, which I then might hold dear forever.

“Lord Jesus,” I whispered, after reading the day’s passage in my neglected book of hours, the scourged holy intimacy between Him and me having begun to scab and heal. “Show me. Guide me. I trust in You.”

I will never leave thee, nor forsake thee.

The Lord is my helper, and I will not fear what man shall do unto me.

Presently, I slit the wax on Kate’s seal and read her letter twice afore falling into vexed sleep.

There was no face to the man who carried the leather pouch, which was wrought with gold and stuffed with scrolls, but the hand, gnarled and beringed, was visible. His sleeves were of the finest fabric, the dark ruby color of congealing blood, slashed to show the ivory underneath. He hurried down the hallway, sun streaming into the long windows aside the Thames.

The Palace at Whitehall.

One of the scrolls dropped out of the pouch and began a long, slow descent to the floor. A hand reached out to catch it afore it reached the filthy rushes, and as it was caught, it unrolled. The signature, Kateryn the Queen, KP, was running, the ink dripping and coursing down the document to the floor. The ink was the same bloody color as the man’s sleeve. I ran to my lady’s chambers and when she read it she began to shriek. One of her men quickly closed the doors to her chamber.

The hand that had caught the errant scroll was instantly recognizable.

’Twas my own.

“Are you all right?” Lucy shook me awake. She’d already lit a candle after coming from her room.

“Yes,” I said. “Yes, I believe I am.”

“A dream?” she asked.

I nodded.

“I fear for ye, lady. I do. I know something happened a court, though you won’t say wha’. And now this, then, again.”

I sat up in my bed. It was true, I had not had a prophetic dream in some time; therefore His sending one now had clear purpose. I felt a strange peace and calm. I picked up my copy of holy writ and opened to one of the passages marked by a thread from Father Gregory’s vestments. Lucy was already privy to the goings-on and had become, in a way, a protector. It seemed only fair to be straightforward.

I softly read, “‘And he said, Hear now my words. If there be a prophet among you, I the Lord will make myself known unto him in a vision and will speak unto him in a dream.’”

Lucy’s eyes opened wide and I put my finger to my lips to indicate that she must hold her peace about this, now and forever. She nodded.

“I must return to court.”

“Must ye go? I fear for ye,” she admitted softly.

“I must, though I admit to a little fear as well. Listen well to what Her Grace had to say.” I reached for her letter and, after opening it, read a selected portion. “‘The king has given me a fine New Year’s purse, as is his generous nature. My lively faith maketh me bold, though I know how vain, foolish, false, ingrate, cruel, hard, wicked, and evil the world is. And ’tis closer to me than ever.’”

“She sounds afraid,” Lucy said.

I nodded. I had not shared the portion of the letter wherein Kate told me she missed my companionship and the steady presence of the few whose fidelity she never questioned in her small circlet of safety. I had promised to serve and protect her. And my new vision showed me I was being called back.

The following morning I asked my lady mother if we might sup alone after church, and she agreed. I liked the new clergyman at St. Peter’s well enough, he seemed a kindly sort, but he could not fill the heart space left by Father Gregory.

After the servants had set the platters on the table, refilled the goblets, and left the room I spoke up. “As you know, Sir James delivered a letter to me from the queen.”

My mother nodded but did not set down her knife, though her portion was tiny.

“She requests that I return to court. If you do not object. And she says she has a place for Hugh in the household of Sir William Cecil, who is placed with Edward Seymour.”

At this my mother showed some pleasure and surprise. “Ah. Edward Seymour.” She set her cup down. “What do you wish, Juliana? You are a woman now.”

“I … I wish to return,” I said. “Though I am grateful for a good home and the peaceful repose I’ve had whilst here, I believe ’twill be good for Hugh. And the queen needs me.”

“And you must fly like the homeward pigeon when Kateryn Parr recalls you,” she said, quickly shifting to bitterness. And though she did not show me kindness but a handful of times during my childhood, and I could therefore not see how she would be jealous of my affections for Kate, I did not wish to inflict additional pain upon her.

“Do you wish me to stay, then, Mother?”

She shook her head. “No. Of course not.”

I bit down on the inside of my lip and tasted blood. ’Twas as it ever had been.

“I had already had both you and Hugh and lost a babe in between by the time I was your age. And what of Matthias?” she asked. “Do you wish me to speak with his father? He grows impatient, I know. And I believe him to be an excellent match for you. But I also know your father had not wished him for you, and that gives me a small pause.”

I risked a question. “Did my father ever explain to you why he did not wish that?”

“He did,” she said sharply. “But no one should be privy to the conversations betwixt a man and his wife.”

“I’m sorry, Mother, I did not mean to offend.”

“We shall tell Matthias that the queen has summoned you to return,” she continued. “He will be glad, I know, of your connections at court and how they may advance his causes in commerce later. But he will not wait long. There are many who would be pleased to be bonny at bed and at board with him.”

I nodded my agreement. Thank you, Mother, for securing this honest solution, however temporary it may be.

She sipped from her goblet. “Sir James Hart seemed beguiled by you. He never took his eyes from you except to politely acknowledge my comments at dinner.”

“He’s … a fine man.”

“Do you know anything of his family?”

“I do. They are a good family of means who ship and do other business with the Seymours and other of the king’s men. But I have no intention of pursuing my … friendship with him any further.”

“You may not, Juliana, but he might. Sir James seems to be a man of the world. Have a care. He does not look like one who gives up pursuit easily. I well recognize those who do, as well as those who don’t.”

After the meal, I retired to my chambers to pack. Within an hour, my mother appeared and Lucy discreetly left the room.

“I have some jewelry for you.” My mother handed a small casket to me and when I opened it I found several necklaces, including one of emerald and gold and a string of pearls. There were rings and some diamond hairpins. There was also a long string of polished jet, set in silver, which I knew had come from Constantinople.

“Your father saved these for when you were married. But I believe he would want you to have them at court, so that you do not feel out of place with the others. I’ve also prepared a purse for you, so you needn’t depend upon the queen for your clothing and expenses.”

I curtseyed to her and she took her thin hand and put it aside my face for a moment, and then took her leave. It occurred to me, as I looked through the treasures, that her way of telling me she had a care for me was to phrase it in terms of what my father wanted for me, though it was what she wanted for me too. I did not know why she could or would not speak plainly of her affection. It would not be the prickly method I would use with my daughter, but it was what she chose, nonetheless, and I would accept that.

Late that night, as I packed the jeweled crate, I stopped of a sudden and bit on my fist to stop myself from crying out. It had abruptly occurred to me that I might never have a chance to gift these jewels in a kind and loving manner.

I would likely never have a daughter. Nor a son.