The Secret Keeper: A Novel of Kateryn Parr

THREE

Winter and Early Spring: Year of Our Lord 1543

The Palace of Whitehall

Charterhouse

Hampton Court Palace

Whitehall was a magnificent square palace of stone with slate roofs the color of ash. Its huge windows drank in the view of not only the tidal Thames but the city tops of London. The splendidly dressed were so many in number that they paid me no mind as I gaped at them. Lady Latimer had fine chambers near where the Lady Mary, the king’s daughter, resided, and we settled in quickly.

One day soon after we arrived, I came to Kate’s reception chamber to find that I was the only one in attendance aside from her lady maid.

“B-beg your pardon, Lady Latimer, did I mistake the time for your reading?” I stammered.

“I leave for the Lady Mary’s in one hour. I’ve canceled my reading today because the king especially invited me to assist the Lady Mary with ordering fabric for dresses and with her jewelry. We have that in common, you know,” she continued with a smile. “She and I both like finery and dancing.”

“I’m sorry to disturb you, then,” I said, and began backing away.

“Stay yourself for a moment,” Kate requested. “I do feel as if I could use a reading before meeting with the Lady Mary and I know you to be an excellent reader, mistress lector.” She waved toward a large oak cupboard in the corner of the expansive chamber. “My books are in there. Turn the key to unlock it and then choose one and you can read aloud whilst my hair is being done.”

Her lady maid went back to brushing her hair into an elaborate twist that would be tucked under a gold and ruby net. I opened the cupboard she’d indicated.

“Oh, my lady, ’tis truly more valuable a treasure chest than that which holds your jewels,” I said aloud. Then I looked up in alarm, hoping I hadn’t offended, especially since she’d just indicated her affection for jewels. I needn’t have worried. She laughed aloud as she was wont to do. I felt myself uncoil.

“You are right. Now choose well, as I haven’t much time.”

I looked them over. There was Roman de la Rose—a fable of romance! A bound copy of The Canterbury Tales. I felt compelled to reach for one of them but somehow I knew that my selection was a test. There was Tyndale’s translation of holy writ. Too simple of a choice. The Institutes of the Christian Religion, by John Calvin, was tempting because it was banned. I wondered if Lord Latimer knew it was there. Or if the king knew it was in Whitehall. I finally settled upon The Paraphrase on the Epistle of Paul the Apostle to the Romans, by Erasmus of Rotterdam. I brought it to my lady and she smiled warmly.

“Excellent selection, Juliana. I should like to see it translated into English someday. Please read to me.”

I had read for about fifteen minutes when a page appeared at her door. I recognized him from Sir Thomas Seymour’s retinue. The boy handed a note to her.

“Sir Thomas is back at court?” she said.

I smiled when the manservant indicated that he was. Not only was Sir Thomas my patron in the lady’s household, he also traveled with Jamie. Kate saw my pleasure and nodded affirmingly.

“Er, m’lady.” The man looked about the room with caution. There was only myself and Kate’s lady maid.

“’Tis fine to speak freely,” Kate told him. Which meant I had earned her trust.

The man pulled a small box out of his pocket. “Sir Thomas asked me to deliver this to you too.” Kate opened it up, looked inside, smiled quickly, and then snapped it shut, a look of indecision on her face. She kept it in her hand and took on a slightly cooler tone.

“Thank you. Tell Sir Thomas I shall respond presently.”

The serving man withdrew and Kate took the small black box to the locked cupboard where she kept her forbidden books and then returned to the closet to finish dressing herself. I stood there, not sure what to do till she called out to me. “Please return Erasmus, Juliana, and then bring me the key. If you’ve no other commitments, you may accompany me to the Lady Mary’s apartments.”

If I had no other commitments! My heart soared. I was to meet a princess. Well, not a princess in title any longer. But we all knew that she was a princess of royal blood. ’Twas a singular display of affection for Kate to invite me, and Dorothy would never forgive me for it, but I would remember all the details to tell her, every word spoken, every gown chosen, so I could relay all when we stayed up, as usual, past dark, gossiping about the day.

I picked up Erasmus and lifted the cupboard lid. As I did, it tipped over Kate’s new little black box. Inside was a miniature portrait, the traditional gift to a beloved from sailors hoping to remain in their lady’s remembrance whilst they were away.

’Twas Thomas Seymour, of course, looking as dashing as ever with a feather in his cap, and appearing a bit arrogant. It unsettled me. I had not forgotten my vision, though it had blessedly not reappeared since I’d left home.

It was a short walk down a long hall to the Lady Mary’s. One of the men in her household opened up the door to her suite of chambers, and as he did, we entered upon a great center hall. The windows were tall and wide and let in the gray winter light. I watched rare snowflakes float like feathers to the ground. The Lady Mary stepped off the tailor’s stool and exclaimed in delight, “Kate!” She gathered her kirtle and went to greet Lady Latimer with a warm embrace.

I kept my eyes downcast, but through my lashes I took her in. She was twenty-seven years old, only a few years younger than Lady Latimer. Her hair was red, tempered with brown, and whilst she didn’t have Kate’s thin waist she was clearly not overfond of rich foods, either. You felt the circle of personal power around her; it moved as she moved. Mayhap that was royalty. She looked up at me and then asked in a rather stern voice, “And who is this?”

Kate’s voice was lightly submissive. “One of my maidens, my lady. She is come with me to court. I pray you have no objection to her accompanying me today. She can assist with the fabric draping.”

Kate threw a look to cue me. I curtseyed deeply and said, “Mistress Juliana St. John, my lady.”

Lady Mary looked at me as though she couldn’t decide whether I could help or she should dismiss me.

“My mother was a companion to Queen Jane,” I added, trying to gain her favor, wanting not to shame Kate for bringing me along. “In their youth.”

At that, Kate looked at me with surprise. Had I misspoken?

“Ah.” The Lady Mary broke out in a smile. “Queen Jane was a truly pious and good woman. Unlike the concubine she followed. Yes, yes, Mistress St. John. You may stay.” She clapped her hands in delight. “Let’s begin!”

The tailor opened up his cases and unwound roll after roll of fine fabric across the spectrum in color and texture. The Lady Mary and Lady Latimer spent several hours choosing fabric for hoods, pleats, and sleeves; I held the fabric along with the tailor as they draped it in the glass. A babe in his nurse’s arms could not have been better contented than I. The Lady Mary brought out her jewel cases so that they might choose which of her finer pieces would be set best against certain fabrics. Kate had an unerring eye and the Lady Mary showered her with affection for her friendship and her help.

The next week, a manservant presented a bill to Lady Latimer for the fabric and work in process. Lady Herbert took it to Kate and Kate scribbled, “For your daughter,” on it and had it sent to the king.

I thought that overbold at the time, and even more so the next week when we returned to the Lady Mary’s chambers.

The women were playing cards and Dorothy had just waved to me to join her at a table with some of the Lady Mary’s maidens when all talk and play came to an abrupt halt.

The Lady Mary stood and curtseyed. “Your Majesty.”

King Henry strode into the room and as he did, every knee bowed and every head tilted down till he passed. He greeted his daughter with kisses and then the air swirled around us as he passed by and stood in front of Lady Latimer.

“Your Majesty,” she said. Her voice was soft and pliant but not subservient, and after she curtseyed she brought herself up to her full height, which was not inconsiderable, and smiled at the king.

“So we have you to thank for this?” The king held out the tailor’s bill of sale.

“Yes, sire. The bill was mistakenly sent to me, as the tailor’s assistant had somehow believed that the gowns were being commissioned for me. I have helped to array your daughter in the manner that will bring honor to her father,” Lady Latimer said with a grin. “At your command, of course. And thus sent the expenses on to you.”

At that, the king broke out in a loud laugh. “Yes, dear Lady Latimer. It was perfectly right to do so.” The rest of us finally exhaled. He drew Kate aside and they sat in front of one of the large windows. We returned to cards, but because the room echoed well we could hear their conversation.

“How does Lord Latimer?” the king asked. He stretched his bad leg out in front of him; the Lady Mary had told us that it was causing him continual pain now as the ulcer upon it rarely closed and often oozed pus. Although he was extremely large, one could see a faint echo of the handsome man he used to be, a man who both drew and repelled, like a magnet turned this way then that.

“Not well, I fear,” Lady Latimer responded quietly. “He shall … recall me soon, I expect.”

I was not surprised. Margaret Neville had returned to Charterhouse the week before but Lady Latimer was not given leave to return yet.

“You must return to him,” Henry said. “And then, perhaps afterward, you shall grace our court again?”

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” Kate said. They spoke together for another fifteen minutes, in muted voices, so I knew not what they said. But you’d have had to be a fool, or blind—I was neither—to not see that the king was besotted with Kate.

The next day the Lady Mary’s tailor came by Lady Latimer’s chamber once more. Kate talked to him quietly and then closed the chamber door behind him. We all looked at her expectantly.

“The king has kindly ordered half a dozen gowns of the highest quality for me, as well, in light of the tailor’s error.”

My breath suspended for a moment, and none of us dared to look at one another for fear we’d disclose our dismay.

Later that night as we reposed I heard her sister, Lady Herbert, speak to her about it in a hushed voice in the next room as she changed into a bed gown.

“They say the king is looking for a new wife,” she began. “It has been nigh on a year since Queen Catherine Howard’s unfortunate death.”

“What is that to me?” Lady Latimer asked.

“Come now, Kate. You are young, but not too young to make folly. You are beautiful—yes, you are! Your husband is unto death and the king is ordering very expensive gifts for you.”

Lady Latimer snorted, mayhap willing herself blind to what she did not want to see. But when Kate returned to the chamber the merry look she had entered the closet with had hardened into one of disquiet and fear.

Lord Latimer died on March 2, 1543, after having been shriven, according to his desire. His lady did not hold with such practices any longer but she honored her husband. Within a week, Henry recalled Kate to court. To my sorrow, I was required to send Lucy home to Marlborough, to the young man she’d intended to marry and to assist her mother at Brighton Manor. Whilst at court, we maidens had to avail ourselves of the king’s servants.

“Who will assist ya if one of them dreams comes?” Lucy asked while packing her things.

I shook my head. “I shan’t need anyone,” I said with confidence. “I haven’t had any since we’ve been here. Mayhap it was Marlborough that troubled me, and once I departed, the dreams departed too.”

She looked doubtful but said nothing, hoping for my sake, I knew, that it was true.

I hoped so too.

To celebrate the arrival of spring His Majesty held a series of festivities at Hampton Court Palace. First was to be a pageant and then a dinner followed two evenings later by a masked ball. I hoped beyond anything that Jamie would be present, and spent much of my prayer time, I was shamed to admit, to that end.

Lord Latimer had left his wife a rich widow and she supplied each of us in her household with coins so we could purchase a new mask. I had made the acquaintance of one of the seamstresses through Kate and the Lady Mary and I knew where to find her. “I shall have a mask made to exactly match my dress,” I whispered to Dorothy. “Should you like to come along and have one too?”

“Oh yes,” she said. She showed me the lovely blue gown she planned to wear. The color set off her fair skin and eyes but I could tell that the fabric had been turned. I knew the others would notice it, too, at the event.

“’Tis a beautiful gown and color,” I said. “I have one of a similar hue, a gift from my mother. Alas, it goes poorly with my complexion and I do not wear it.” I fixed a look of surprise upon my face as though something had suddenly occurred to me. “Mayhap you would like it? It would be an honor to have it worn since it is my misfortune that I do not look well in it.”

The expression upon Dorothy’s face resembled that of a fish who had been stunned with a quick slap to a table, which troubled me greatly, but then she recovered. I had meant the offer to be a pleasure and not cause pain. “If it shan’t unsettle you, I should like to,” she said. “Thank you.”

“’Tis my pleasure,” I said, and took the expensive gown from my wardrobe. “I am glad that it will get some use, and your lovely coloring suits it admirably.” Afterward, we walked arm in arm to the seamstress’s and bid her to make masks for us.

“I believe we shall be the only ladies in Lady Latimer’s household with masks to match our gowns,” Dorothy said with excitement. Mayhap it was the gift of the gown, but she grew friendlier on the walk back to our chamber, even speaking of how she came to be in Lady Latimer’s household, which she had not told me of in detail before. Her mother was a distant cousin and her family had thirteen children; they could not afford to keep all of them in their own household.

I shared that my mother was of a higher-born family, too, which had fallen upon difficult circumstances many years back. “You and I are not so very different,” I said.

“How did you come to stay with Lady Latimer?” she asked.

“Sir Thomas Seymour was an associate of my father. When my father became ill, Sir Thomas had, apparently, agreed to advance my brother on my father’s behalf. And then, I suppose, me as well.”

“I haven’t seen Sir Thomas seek to advance others without also advancing himself in some way.” Her tone was sharp and disdainful.

Dorothy was my friend, but I was not likely to let my benefactor go undefended, regardless of my niggling misgivings. Sir Thomas had helped Jamie, too, after all. “He seems right kind to me and likely to keep a promise,” I replied promptly.

“He’s right kind to all the ladies,” Dorothy said, seemingly taken aback by my tone. “But he keeps an especial eye out for what will please Lady Latimer. Now that I know Sir Thomas placed you with Kate, ’tis easy to understand why you are becoming her favorite. She prefers all things connected to Sir Thomas.”

I was uncertain if she had insulted me with the insinuation that Kate could not prefer me on my own merits, or if she was being honest, which I normally preferred but did not just now. I did not know what to believe about Sir Thomas, nor about most anyone at court. At least in Marlborough I knew where the wolves denned.

I said nothing more for a moment as our slippers tapped down the long stone hall. She spoke up again, pressing her point. “It was said that one of the women executed for robbery last year accused Sir Thomas of debauching her some years back, which left her little recourse but a sinful life and poor company thereafter.”

I rolled my eyes in exasperation. I had been going to let the matter rest but now she had forced me to respond yet again. “I don’t listen to servants’ tittle-tattle.”

“’Twasn’t servants passing that along.” We soon reached our chamber and I handed over my linens to one of the court laundresses and then retired to bed early.

That night we lay quietly in our beds, which were mere feet from one another, not chatting as we usually did. My vision of Sir Thomas chopping the young maiden’s dress into pieces while she looked on in agony joined neatly with Dorothy’s tale of Sir Thomas’s careless treatment of another woman. But both of those images collided with the friendly face and demeanor Sir Thomas had at court, and with his generosity in looking out for me and for Jamie, and with his affections for Kate. I did not know what to make of any of it.

And yet, I did not want to leave things unsettled between Dorothy and myself. I finally spoke into the dark silence. “I think your new mask will look quite becoming on you. It sets off your hair color just so.”

“It shall,” she said softly. “With the beautiful gown you’ve given me. You shall look becoming too.”

I turned over then, able to relax, and wanting to sleep so I could be well rested for the next day’s masque.

This was one occasion when I had been given leave to wear one of my finest gowns and I was again thankful of my father’s pride in attire. My gown was claret colored, overstitched with gold thread, and had matching slippers. I arranged my hair in an elaborate knot with pearl pins embedded within. Mistress Dorothy and I walked to Lady Latimer’s rooms together, whence we all left for the great hall.

We arrived at the dining table and one of the king’s men showed us where we were to be seated. Kate was notably placed at the table in front of the king and the Lady Mary. After the supper there was a grand dance with a dozen musicians. The hall was ablaze with light and rich with the alchemy of sweat and perfume and ambition and lust, and the acrid wisps of burnt candle wicks.

I looked for Jamie but I did not see him. I had depended upon his being there because I knew Sir Thomas was. I was therefore sorely disappointed, but I heard another’s voice behind me. “My lady, a dance?” A fine young man with a tousled head of long blond hair came to where I sat with Dorothy and several of the other ladies.

“Yes, of course, sir …”

“Tristram Tyrwhitt,” he said. He took my hand and led me to the dance floor. His friend, mayhap not quite as finely wrought as this Tristram, followed behind with Dorothy. I was glad she’d been invited to dance as well but her eyes were not on her partner; rather, she fixed her gaze on Sir Tristram.

“I’ve not seen you here before,” Sir Tristram said.

“No, I have only been in Lady Latimer’s household for nigh on six months.”

He nodded approvingly. “My aunt Lady Tyrwhitt is a good friend of Lady Latimer’s.”

“I have met her!” I exclaimed. “She is a most devout woman.”

Sir Tristram rewarded me with a smile. “She is. And I suspect you are, too, mistress. Lady Latimer would not have her household be otherwise.”

We made pleasant conversation about court and he danced with me thrice that evening, though keeping me at an arm’s length. I did not have time to decide whether that was respectful modesty or an indication of his dislike of dancing before another young man approached.

“My lady, might I be so bold as to ask you to dance?” he asked. I looked up into the face of a tall and broad man a few years older than I. His green eyes gleamed in an unsettling but compelling manner. “Sir John Temple,” he said. “Of Gardiner’s household.”

He wore the badge of his association and it did not sit well with me because I was not overfond of braggarts. He swept me out to dance and I had to admit that he was a fine dancer and kept good conversation. He drew me much closer than Sir Tristram had and while the sensation wasn’t entirely unwelcome, it wasn’t wholly welcome, either.

“Are you new to court?” he asked.

“I am, sir,” I replied. He smiled with approval at my seeming subservience. “From Marlborough.”

“You must watch your company then, my lady. Mayhap you do not know that the Tyrwhitts are reformers. A lady’s reputation is made—and lost—quickly here.”

“I thank you for your warning,” was all I said, though a half dozen tart retorts begged for liberty.

“I would that our king would rid us of their pestilence. His Grace Stephen Gardiner makes continued efforts in that direction. Ad maiorem dei gloriam.”

I restrained a smile and translated. “‘For the greater glory of God.’ I suspect the reformers feel likewise.”

Sir John held me at arm’s length as the song ended. “You must have had good tutors. You speak Latin well,” he said approvingly, but looked befuddled at my response, perhaps wondering if I was a reformer.

I curtseyed slightly and gave him a demure, ladylike smile. “Thank you for the dance, Sir John.” I ended our time together.

He bowed in a courtly manner and moved on. “My pleasure, mistress.”

While we watched the other dancers I had occasion to notice that His Majesty, a great bear of a man who completely dominated the room and still, somehow, exuded charm, danced with Lady Latimer as often as his demanding leg would allow. He did not unfasten his eyes from her whilst she was partnered by another. The other she was most often partnered with was Thomas Seymour. Her high color, her steady gaze into his eyes as they danced, and the frequent warm laughter they shared indicated that she was as besotted with Sir Thomas as he was with her. I grudged her not. Lord Latimer had long been ill and they had oft been separated by time and chance afore then. But now she was free.

I was nearby when the king stepped in. “May we intrude?” he asked Sir Thomas, as though there could be any answer but yes.

Before Sir Thomas could answer, the king made a point to ask Lady Latimer, “Is that one of the gowns we bought for you, Kate?”

She indicated that it was and he said, “We shall have to make for you a fine girdle of rubies and garnets for when you next wear it.”

As I was next to Sir Thomas he looked at me and, though clearly discomfited by the discourse between Kate and the king, let a smile waggle his beard.

“Mistress St. John?”

“’Twould be my distinct honor, Sir Thomas.”

“How do you like your stay in Lady Latimer’s household?”

“I am very happy, thank you, Sir Thomas. I have oft written to my mother to tell her about the kindness you’ve bestowed upon me.”

Sir Thomas smiled, and apparently noticing that I continued to look about me, he asked, “Whom do you seek?”

“One of your men, sir,” I said. I had no choice but to divulge my intent if I wanted an answer. “James Hart. Has he accompanied you this evening?”

Sir Thomas laughed. “He has. I expect if you look for a circle of ladies you shall find him at the center.” He pulled away from me. “You’re taking on the sheen of the court, Juliana.”

’Twas the first time he’d spoken to me in such a familiar manner, but it was brotherly and seemed to hold no ill intent so I warmed to it. “I hope that is a compliment, Sir Thomas.”

“’Tis,” he said, “and a warning.” He bowed and I curtseyed and our dance was done. He took time to kiss my hand and as he did, I spied the gold and black onyx signet ring he always wore. It gave me pause, as it always brought my prophecy back to me.

I noticed that he next chose another young woman to dance with. She looked delighted, perhaps enchanted, to have been chosen to dance with him and her enthusiasm radiated outward from her countenance. Sir Thomas, like a man who’d long tarried in a gray season, absorbed that bright enthusiasm with apparent pleasure and repaid it in kind. He glanced at Kate, I assumed, to see if she took note of him with the pretty maiden. By her glance and grimace, she had.

I took a seat and a cup of watered wine and watched Dorothy on the dance floor, in the arms of Sir Tristram, who appeared slightly wearied in contrast to her rapt attention to his every word. I closed my eyes for a moment and rested. I’d have returned to my rooms but I’d agreed to help the Countess of Sussex assist Lady Latimer after the masque. Her sister, Lady Herbert, normally assisted but had left early because her mercurial husband had stalked out in anger at a perceived slight.

“I thought I’d never get my chance,” said a voice from my side. I looked up. It was James. “May I keep you company, Juliana?”

“Of course,” I said softly. His eyes were deeper than I recalled; I turned away from the intensity of them for a moment. If I had any doubts about his being a man afore he went to war, there were none present who could question it now.

“You look tired. And ’tis no surprise. Thrice I have sought to partner you at dance only to find you firmly in the arms of another.”

I could hardly tell him that I had sought him as well. “The king’s minstrels have played countless songs, so mayhap you did not try hard enough. Or mayhap you were already absorbed in the company of others.”

He grinned and grew faintly red and I knew I had found the truth. He owed me no dance nor anything else, so I did not press the tease again. “How were your travels?”

“Unsettling. Daunting. Wondrous. Marvelous. But I have not yet earned my knighthood nor my fortune, so I shall have to return.”

“To Austria? I had understood that the campaign was over.”

He shook his head. “To war. But that is not talk for this night. If you have strength for one more dance, I should very much like to partner you.”

I stayed myself from thinking of the many ways I could interpret that statement and simply said, “It would be my pleasure.”

He took my hand and led me out to dance; the musicians had struck up a melody of the king’s own composing so all danced for fear of giving insult by remaining seated. I noticed little else but the feel of Jamie’s hand on the small of my back, his eyes holding mine, and the unforced rhythm of both our steps and our conversation.

“Lady Latimer is much in demand at court these days,” he said.

“’Tis true,” I noted as I looked toward the king, who partnered her again. Sir Thomas was firmly in the arms of another lady but did not look happy. “Lady Herbert believes the king is eager for another wife. His Majesty visits Lady Latimer several times a day, in either her own chambers or those of the Lady Mary.”

Jamie shuddered. “Five wives is enough,” he said, though it was dangerous to speak it. I admired his boldness. He turned with a grin. “The Turks take four wives. Sometimes all at once.”

“I know that well,” I said. “My late father shared many tales with me of the lands in which he traded.” I flashed a wicked grin. “Do you aspire to become a Turk, then, Jamie?”

He laughed aloud. “Nay, mistress, they are braver than I. One wife is enough for me. If she were the right one,” he parried. “What other tales did your father tell you?”

“Oh, some from the East. And some of the natural world. But he was a proud Englishman and loved best to tell the story of Saint George. But that, too, is talk for another night, and another audience.”

The song soon ended and Sir John Temple touched Jamie on the shoulder and, bearing his greater status, indicated that he would like the next dance with me. Jamie graciously kissed my hand, and I felt the kiss run through me afore he took his leave. In less than a minute he’d partnered a woman who glittered more than I. John Temple held me close, and I suspected that my cool reserve earlier had somehow driven him back to me in a challenge.

Later, I sat at a table and took some refreshment. Dorothy joined me, so I asked her, “Are you fond of Sir Tristram Tyrwhitt?”

“Not particularly. I scarce know him. Why do you ask?”

“I noticed you enjoyed his company,” I said.

“I noticed he enjoyed yours,” she said a little sharply. “And yet, mayhap you prefer the Irishman?”

I grinned and she saw it and grinned back. Then I replayed in my mind every word Jamie had said, the sound of his laugh, and the most welcome feel of his hand on my back.

Later that night I took in hand the jeweled pins Kate eased from her hair and then returned them to their casket. “Did you enjoy yourself this evening, Juliana?” she asked.

“Oh yes, my lady,” I said. “It truly was a marvelous time. There are no words adequate to express my gratitude at being included in your household.” She stood to be unbuttoned and I fetched her bed gown whilst her lady maid left the room with Kate’s gown. This left Kate and me alone for a moment.

“Court is a wondrous place,” she agreed. “I enjoyed the evening too.”

“Especially with Sir Thomas?” I teased.

She turned to correct me but saw the grin upon my face, and, I supposed, remembered my own connection to Sir Thomas and softened some. “Yes, yes, especially with Sir Thomas.”

“How did you become acquainted with him?”

“My brother, William, was in the household of the Duke of Richmond at the same time that Thomas’s older brother, Edward, was. I had occasion then to begin our … friendship. And it grew with stops and starts through the years.”

“He is not yet married,” I ventured with care. “Nor are you, since the passing of Lord Latimer, God rest his soul.”

Kate closed her eyes for a moment and finally said, “My mind is fully bent to marry Sir Thomas before any man I know.” The maid came back into the room and Kate, startled by the noise, wakened from her reverie and perhaps recognized that she had disclosed more than she had intended to.

“Yes?” she asked in a faintly sharp tone.

“The king, His Majesty, has sent this for you,” she said as she held out a box. Nestled within was a pair of pearl drop earrings.