The Secret Keeper: A Novel of Kateryn Parr

ELEVEN

Summer: Year of Our Lord 1546

Palace at Westminster

The queen’s chambers were quiet that season, and the air held the awkward tension of those picking their way through the forest whilst avoiding trap holes, leafed and twigged over.

“I am glad that the Lady Mary was here to visit with you earlier,” I said, making polite conversation whilst Kate and her sister, Lady Herbert, sewed linens for the poor. “She has oft been away.”

“Yes,” Kate said. “She has drawn closer to me now that the king is oft given to melancholy. He is tired afore the day begins. He does not walk in the gardens as was his habit during the afternoon. He eats but little, compared to his former appetite.”

All knew the king was ill unto death. ’Twas only a matter of time, though none knew if that would be weeks or a year. And as he grew sicker, he grew more troublesome and impatient.

“Perhaps you might send him a physic,” Kate’s sister suggested, “as a show of your continuing concern for his health?”

Kate brightened at that. “Yes, yes, that is an excellent idea.” She called her secretary to her and dictated a quick note. “Juliana, will you please deliver this to the king’s physician and wait for a response?”

I nodded, glad to be of help. I took the letter and made my way past the king’s chambers and down the long hallway where I knew Dr. Wendy might be found. I knocked upon his door, but his associate told me that he was already with His Majesty. I left the letter for him to deliver upon his return and began to make my way toward the hall back to the queen’s suite. As I did, I saw another figure, blocky and bold, just ahead of me. He seemed to have just come from the king’s chambers.

It was Sir Richard Rich. I wondered if he’d washed Anne Askew’s blood from under his nails.

A certain dreaminess overtook me. I saw a scroll drop out of his leather bag and fall toward the rushes. I knew it was the one in my vision, with the queen’s name written and dripping blood, and that I was to act and take the scroll in hand.

Rich stopped for a moment, but I dared not move lest he hear me and discover his loss and turn back afore I reached it. I knew I was in danger by taking what clearly belonged to him. He hastened to his destination and seemed unaware of the fallen document. I picked it up, tucked it into the fold in the front of my gown, and held it there with my hand whilst making my way back to Her Grace. As I did, the words spoken in the book of Esther whispered to me.

Who knoweth whether thou art come to the kingdom for such a time as this?

I quickly made my way to the queen’s chambers.

“Did you find the doctor?” she asked.

“No, lady. But as I was returning, Sir Richard Rich was leaving the king’s chambers. He dropped a scroll. I did not read it,” I said, my hand and voice trembling. “But the scroll had not been waxed and has slightly unrolled.”

“Hand it to me,” Kate said. She opened the scroll. Her face went from rose to ash and then she quickly spoke high and loud. I had never seen her so vexed.

“’Tis an arrest warrant! For me!” She began to cry.

This could not be true! I did not know whether to give her margin or to come alongside for comfort.

Immediately her sister raced to her side. “Surely not,” she said, taking the scroll from Kate’s hands. Kate, meanwhile, was close to shrieking.

“It’s not stamped!” she said, making no sense. “It’s not stamped!”

I brought my arm around her but she nearly flung me off.

“What do you mean,” one of her ladies asked, “by ‘It’s not stamped’?”

“It is signed in his own hand!” Kate shouted afore falling to the floor. “Woe to me. I am undone.” She continued to bewail and babble and her sister helped her to a comfortable chair, but Her Grace would not, or could not, sit still.

“I am like as dead,” she said. And then she wept in a loud voice. It was loud enough that I knew it could be heard in the corridors but none could calm her.

I was shocked and horrified that I had been the woeful messenger of this terrible news. A warrant for her arrest, signed in his own hand. And the king did not shy from executing his wives.

Kate glanced at her little dogs, scrambling about her feet, but did not reach for them. Instead, she wailed, “The companies of the wicked bark at me. They beset my hands and feet round about.” And then she began crying again.

“Fetch His Majesty’s physician,” Lady Herbert told me.

I stumbled to the king’s rooms and, shaking, babbled to one of his men that the queen required the doctor, if the king could spare him, as she had taken ill. I returned to Kate’s chamber, where she was still completely disassembled. You could hear her pitiful cries in the hallway, through the closed doors, and I waited but a moment before the doctor arrived.

I echoed those pitiful cries, as did many of her ladies.

“What is it?” he asked Kate once he entered. She, knowing that he shared her religious sympathies, told him about the arrest warrant and how she was undone.

Of a sudden, the king, having heard from his man that the queen had taken ill, appeared in her chamber. I silenced myself, curtseyed deeply, and did not look up at him because I did not want to meet his terrible gaze.

“Kate, what be the matter?” he demanded. “We are concerned for your health and well-being.”

She stood up and then fell to her knees in front of him. “Oh, sire, I have had ill tidings delivered to me. I do not know who would besmirch my affections for you, but I have heard that you, my sweet husband and lord, are displeased with me.”

The king did not answer right away, and it was interesting that he did not ask by whom these tidings came. “You must be misled, Kate,” he said, but his voice was not tender. “Come now, sit with us by the window and regain your senses.”

After a few more moments of reassurance, His Majesty took his leave, allowing his physician to remain behind to attend to her.

I was terrified. Having seen what he approved for Mistress Askew, and knowing what he’d allowed, nay, commanded, to happen to his other wives, I had no doubt he would dispatch of Kate if he took a mind to do so.

The doctor, still present, drew near to her. “Gardiner has taken every occasion to speak ill of you to the king. He told the king that you seek to undermine and rule him on every occasion. He has told him that if Henry would agree to protect him, he, along with other counselors, would expose such treason, cloaked in heresy, that His Majesty would perceive how perilous a matter it is to cherish a serpent in his bosom.”

Kate said dully, “And His Majesty gave him leave to find out, hence the warrant for arrest.”

“Yes. However, madam, the king did come to visit you, though he be cold in manner, something he never did for Queen Anne Boleyn nor Queen Catherine Howard afore their arrests.”

Relief swept through the room like a breeze on this hot day. Mayhap there was yet hope!

“What shall I do?” Her Grace fretted.

“My lady, all is not yet lost, though the situation be grim,” he said. “Show humble submission unto the king, His Majesty, as is meet and required, and mayhap he once more will find you gracious and favorable.”

The doctor took his leave, and Kate sent a note to His Majesty asking if she might dine with him as she had recovered after his tender ministrations.

The king replied that yes, they might dine together.

The queen’s sister took especial care in dressing her that night. Although Kate normally preferred ruby-colored gowns, this night she chose one of a pale violet with soft slippers to match. She could not, of course, wear her hair down about her shoulders but especial care was taken to make it look flowing and womanly. Her rubies were replaced with a gold necklace with a diamond drop, which had been given to her by the king. Her sister would serve as lady in waiting but I was allowed to carry the candle down the hall and serve Lady Herbert, whilst she assisted Kate as required.

The king had not many servants in attendance, either, and whilst he was courteous in welcoming Kate to table he did seem indifferent.

The table was set with beef stuffed with forcemeat, soft white manchet bread, and the tarts of jelly and cream-of-almond that the king preferred. He had Edward Askew pour Kate’s wine and then asked her a question of a religious nature.

“Tell me, Kate, because you are so learned in this matter. What think you of auricular confession? We hear there are many varied opinions of this at court and we should value your counsel.”

Lady Herbert did not move her gaze but I could tell by the tensing of her neck that she found this line of conversation unusual and dangerous.

“Sire,” Kate responded, “you know as I do that women were created as inferior to men in these matters, and being little able to make wisdom of these issues, which are weighty, we better turn to our husbands to advise us. I thank you right kindly for tolerating my womanly weakness and imperfections, but I would rather be guided by Your Majesty on this matter than offer my own unworthy opinion.”

The king set down his goblet. “Not so, by Saint Mary, you are become a doctor, Kate, to instruct us, not to be instructed or directed by us.”

I slid back into the shadows and even Lady Herbert stepped back. The queen was on her own now to claw her way up from this trap.

“Sire, I am sorry if I have misled you otherwise, but in this, you are mistaken. I seek to follow your counsel and wisdom in all matters. And where I have, with Your Majesty’s leave, heretofore been bold to hold talk with Your Majesty, I have not done it to maintain opinion but rather to provide lively conversation which may, for a time, distract you from the pains that beset you. I also, by hearing Your Majesty’s learned discourse, might even receive to myself some profit.”

She bowed her head becomingly. A minute passed. Then another. Then he grinned afore taking a large drink of wine from his golden goblet.

“Is that even so, sweetheart? And tended your arguments to no worse end? Then perfect friends we are now again, as ever at any time heretofore.” He patted his good leg and she made her way round the table to sit upon his lap.

I closed my eyes for a moment and swooned with relief. The rest of the evening was forced merriment, and Kate spent the night in His Majesty’s chamber.

There was no certainty that reinstatement in his affections was permanent.

The next day when His Majesty and the queen were walking in the gardens, which he had not done for some time, Norfolk, Wriothesley, and forty guards approached them. “Stay yourself, sweetheart,” the king said to her. We, her ladies, remained behind whilst she sat on a bench.

We saw them look as Wriothesley tried to hand him a piece of paper that the king snatched out of his hands and tore up afore motioning for Norfolk to humble himself and bend down to gather the pieces. “Errant knaves! Beasts! Fools!” the king shouted at them, and sent them on their way with a boxing to the ears.

The king then made his way back to the queen, whilst we ladies withdrew to a discreet distance. I could still hear Kate, though, pleasingly telling the king that he should be kind to his men, who only loved him. She acted her role well, not letting on that she knew anything at all of the plot against her.

“You are too kind, sweetheart,” he said. “You know not what they had planned. But an unwarranted attack upon a wife is an attack upon the man, and we shall not forget this.”

In the days that followed, the king began, once again, to shower his wife with all manner of affection and treasure. And, rewardingly, she did likewise with me. One afternoon after she had dismissed most of her ladies, she called me into her private dressing chamber.

“Yes, Your Grace?” I curtseyed afore standing in front of her.

“Come, Juliana,” she said, patting the seat next to her. “First, I must apologize to you for the ill-mannered way in which I pushed you aside after you had delivered the scroll to me. I was quite beside myself and not in my right senses.”

“My lady, there is never a reason for you to apologize to me,” I quickly said, my ear tips growing warm. “’Tis perfectly understandable that you would react thusly, especially as someone had besmeared your name with the king—to terrible consequence.”

She drew near me. “I do believe our Lord made providential arrangements for you to come upon that warrant, and in so doing, save me.”

“I, too, Your Grace, I heartily believe that,” I said. “And I thank Him.” Thank You for using me to help Her Grace, I prayed.

“I have not forgotten the lovely gift you gave me from your father’s treasures. I should like to give you a gift in return.” Kate handed over a large silver box to me. I took it in my hands and looked at the elaborate carvings on the lid, running my fingers over the top.

“Open it!” she said with delight.

I lifted the box lid; the inside was lined with blue velvet and there were tiny compartments in which rested treasures. “My own pincers!” I said. “I shan’t have to borrow Elisabeth’s any longer.” I moved to the next section, in which was a jewel-studded case; inside was carmine powder for the lips and the cheeks. One long case held sticks of kohl. There was a tiny case of cinnamon-scented drops, the very kind she had the physic prepare for herself to keep her breath sweet. And loveliest of all, a small glass, dear and rare.

“Your Grace! I cannot express my gratitude enough,” I said with deep affection. “I shall never forget this favor; I have never received anything so dear. I am so very glad that you are back in His Majesty’s good favor.”

“I too,” she said afore sighing deeply.

I finally have a mother who loves me. I cherished the thought, in the quiet or lonely moments, along with wistful longings for Jamie, his laughter, his jesting, his hand upon my back. His lips upon my own.

Early in August, the lords Hertford and Lisle were back to claim their rightful places in the privy chamber, and a celebration was being planned to honor the French admiral who would be visiting London. The queen’s brother, William, would hold a prominent place in the welcoming ceremonies.

Thomas Seymour would attend. Would he put the queen in danger? I had still not forgotten my vision of him and the Lady Elizabeth. Now that the vision with the scroll had come to pass, I felt more certain than ever that the garden prophecy would too.

Prince Edward and the queen had kept up their warm correspondence. The prince was particularly desirous of making a good impression, as his father had arranged for him to play a large role in greeting the French admiral when he arrived at Greenwich. The prince wrote a tender letter to the queen asking for her advice. Prince Edward, who, at the king’s behest, would remain under her care after the celebratory events, was reassured that his Latin was excellent, his presence was royal, and he had nothing at all to fear. Rather, the French admiral would note that England’s future king was someone to be reckoned with and would therefore very carefully abide by the treaty.

Her Grace signed the letter, had me sand and seal it, and sent it off. Like any mother preparing her son for a challenging future, she built him up at every occasion.

“The king named me his regent in 1544 when he took Boulogne,” Kate said, “the very war we are signing an agreement over now. And he has not rewritten it since.” She felt confident, especially after her rekindling of affection with the king, that she would guide Edward and his realm into adulthood even though it appeared that her dream of having a child of her own would not be fulfilled.

The young prince, a lad of only eight, performed admirably, and after greeting his guests with a retinue of two thousand on horse, escorted them to Hampton Court Palace, where the king, and Kate, and all the courtiers and households awaited. There was no one Henry desired to impress so much as the French, excepting the Holy Roman Emperor, and he had spared no expense for this lavish event. There was banqueting and hunting and masks every night.

Though I knew it could never again be as it had been, I rather wished I had Dorothy with me; I missed her companionship. Lady Fitzgerald Browne must have noticed that I looked out of sorts and included me in her circle.

On the third evening of celebrations I had eaten of roasted hare in French mustard sauce and was drinking a delightful wine that the French had brought with them from the Benedictines when someone came and touched my shoulder from behind.

“Juliana.”

I turned around, nearly spilling my wine. When I saw who it was, I had to stay myself from throwing it upon him. “I have naught to say to you, John Temple.” I denied him the title of sir, as he was in no manner chivalrous.

“Do not draw gazes that stay upon us, unwelcome attention, and gossip,” he said. “I only wanted to share that I find you as lovely as ever. And as you are alone perhaps you’d like to join me—”

“I would most certainly not like to join you in the gutter from which you slithered,” I interrupted. I did not bid him good-bye, I simply walked away. My hand was shaking and I set my goblet down lest I spill it. I felt an acid rise in my throat reminiscent of the taste of the hare I’d just enjoyed. To the far side of the room I spied the welcome face of Sir Thomas Seymour, who was providentially alone. I had not had occasion to speak with him since the event began but he was at least someone I could approach as I fled Temple, so I made my way to him.

“Juliana!” he said, his face lighting with real joy. “You look lovely. Beautiful. Your mother would be most pleased and proud.”

It was clear he did not know my mother well. I could not even get her to respond to my infrequent correspondence.

“And”—he held up his hand—“before you ask me, Sir James Hart is not with me this time.”

I smiled warmly but did not allow my face to betray any emotion. “Thank you, Sir Thomas, but I was not going to ask after James Hart. I was about to ask after you, your interests.” I lowered my voice and whispered. “Outside of the queen, that is.”

He laughed aloud and led me to the dance floor. “She is as lovely as ever, isn’t she?” he asked, holding me so close I could hear his voice above the music, dance, laughter, and loud repartee in both French and English. “I have been asked many times why I have not married, not even once, though my brother be married twice with many children. And I shall tell you the reason, Juliana. ’Tis because I desire to marry only Kate, have ever desired only Kate. And soon, I shall have my wish.”

I pulled back from him and, before others could notice that I was agog, he drew me back to him. ’Twas treason to talk of or predict the king’s death, which is what he had just done. I knew that Sir Henry Norris had gone to the block because someone had mistakenly whispered that Norris hoped to replace the king in Queen Anne Boleyn’s affections once the king were dead.

“Now, Juliana, you know how to keep a secret,” Sir Thomas said.

“I do,” I said, though I was tiring of keeping so many.

“Then I shall tell you another,” he said, waiting for the music to strike up afore continuing. “Sir James Hart will be back to London for the coronation.”

I unwillingly smiled.

“Aha! I have caught out one of your secrets, mistress,” Seymour said, jovial and charming. It was hard not to like him.

“Sir James is a friend,” I replied. “I shall be glad of his visit … whenever that may be.” I was certainly not going to be heard talking about a coronation that must, by treasonous definition, happen after the king’s death.

“Perhaps you’ll be more interested in seeing Sir Matthias and his family, from Marlborough, who will certainly be in London for the festivities as well.” He grinned. “’Tis fine for an old sea dog like myself to remain long unmarried. ’Tis not becoming for a mistress, especially at court.” He glanced up at Elisabeth, firmly attached to Sir William Parr, the queen’s brother.

“I shall be glad to welcome them all.” I sidestepped the talk of my marriage potential since I felt there was little if any possibility of a wedding happening. “Whenever they may visit. I wish my mother would visit, too, as Hugh is here as well. Alas, she will not.”

“She may change her mind,” Thomas said. “’Twill be an event not many shall want to forswear; we Seymours shall see to that. And then, mistress, there will be decades of plenty.” He led me from the dance floor and availed me of a fresh goblet of the bubbling wine. “Are you well contented here?” He seemed to genuinely care. “I have spoken with your brother, Hugh, and he does well with Cecil.”

“I am contented,” I replied carefully. I should not have liked him to think that I was ungrateful, or that there had been some falling out between Kate and myself.

He smiled. “Do not allow the sheen of the court to become a shell, mistress.” After a few more pleasant words he kissed my hand and took his leave.

I danced with a few others that night, but I thought carefully upon his words. Had I become sheathed in a shell? Whom had I shared my feelings with completely since Dorothy and I had been estranged? Whom did I trust? Whom could I hold on to and laugh with unreservedly?

No one save one. Jamie was coming to London!