A Woman of Passion (24 page)

In the weeks that followed, Bess saw little of Cavendish. She fully understood that he had to remain at Court to secure his position in the new reign of King Edward the VI. The Greys stayed at Chelsea, bringing Lady Jane there from Hampton, during the long, drawn-out mourning for the late king.

The coronation for the boy-king was kept as simple as possible, with a short procession to Westminster Abbey, the usual interminable religious crowning ceremony, followed by a not overly lavish celebration, all supposedly in deference to the king's tender age, but which in reality had more to do with keeping the coffers filled.

Henry Grey brought messages from Cavendish to Bess, and it was Henry they relied on for news of what was happening at Court. As soon as his nephew was
crowned, Lord Edward Seymour and his countess, Ann, moved into Hampton to be with the boy-king day and night, and by mid-February King Edward had given his uncle the dukedom of Somerset and appointed him lord protector. This put the privy council in an uproar, because they had expected to rule as a Council of Regency.

It was rumored that Thomas Seymour objected to his brother's outright manipulation of the little king, so at the direction of the lord protector, Thomas was elevated from admiral to lord high admiral and was created Baron Sudely to silence his objections.

Young King Edward was making new appointments almost daily. With the approval of the protector and the privy council, William Cecil, a brilliant young secretary of the Court, was appointed to the post of king's personal secretary. Then King Edward, at the prompting of Cecil and Edward Seymour, asked for an audit of the late king's treasury. Paulet and Cavendish and their treasury clerks worked diligently, sometimes feverishly, day and night over this accounting. It was a vast undertaking, and both knew the books must be in perfect order when they were presented for scrutiny.

At Chelsea, Lady Frances took personal offense at Seymour's insufferable high-handedness. “It is that bastard Edward Seymour who is demanding an accounting of the treasury. He had better not start investigating my bills! On top of that he has made his rabid bitch of a wife, Ann Seymour, a duchess! For Christ's sake, Henry, we must do something!”

“What
can
we do, my dear?” Henry asked doubtfully.

“If you think I'm going to sit here at Chelsea on my fat arse while Edward and Ann Seymour aggrandize themselves playing king and queen, you are sadly mistaken. At their own peril they are overlooking my God-given
rights as a Tudor! Bess, pack immediately. Lady Jane goes back to Hampton this very day, and I shall camp in the king's bloody bedchamber until he makes
me
a duchess!”

At Hampton Court Palace, Catherine Parr was in full mourning. It was quickly brought home to her that she was no longer Queen of England, but a much less powerful queen dowager. Edward Seymour was already putting subtle pressure on her to move from Hampton because it now belonged to young King Edward. Seymour had been less subtle toward Princess Mary. Because she practiced the Catholic faith, he persecuted her unmercifully, insisting that everyone at Hampton must practice the Reformed Protestant faith. Deeply offended, Princess Mary haughtily removed her household to her own country estate of Beaulieu.

Lady Frances and little Lady Jane were dressed in identical black mourning when they arrived at Hampton. Bess wore a gray taffeta with tiny white ruffles at its high neck. They found the young king talking earnestly with his sister Elizabeth, but when he saw Lady Jane Grey, Edward's face lit up with happiness. Frances Grey missed nothing. Her daughter would have no difficulty at all persuading the king to make her parents a duke and duchess.

Princess Elizabeth, also gowned in gray, withdrew and beckoned Bess to follow her. As the two red-haired young women walked down the Long Gallery, Bess could see that Elizabeth was trying to suppress great excitement. “What is it, Your Grace? Has something happened?”

“Something is
about
to happen. I dare not say what; it is a secret,” Elizabeth whispered.

Bess guessed immediately that it concerned Thomas Seymour, for the princess was obsessed with him.

“Suffice it to say that shortly, everyone will be in for a great surprise.” Elizabeth looked at Bess coyly. “How does your own affair of the heart progress?”

“It doesn't,” Bess said flatly. “Sir William is completely occupied at Whitehall with treasury business.”

“We'll both have to be patient, something that doesn't sit well with either of us. And I absolutely hate these prim mourning dresses, but my brother won't hear of allowing me to wear anything save black and gray. Poor little devil has been brought up so straightly. He actually looked happy to see the little dog turd.”

“He seems to have much in common with Lady Jane, Your Grace.”

“They are like two peas from the same pod.” Elizabeth's eyes slid toward Bess. “Rather like us.”

At the end of May the audit of the treasury was complete, and early in June, Paulet was reconfirmed as lord high treasurer and Cavendish as treasurer of the king's chamber. They kept their posts not just because they handled the money of the realm, but because they did such an outstanding job collecting that money. Both were members of the privy council and received a vote of confidence from their fellow members.

Cavendish stole a couple of hours from Whitehall to dine with the Greys, who were back at Suffolk House celebrating their own good news. Their other guests were Lord and Lady Herbert, William Parr and his wife, and Thomas Seymour. All the men were members of the privy council except Henry Grey, who was always careful to show no political ambition.

Cavendish kissed Frances and, when they sat down to dine, proposed a toast to the new Duke and Duchess of Suffolk. Bess and Cavendish couldn't keep their eyes from each other. His forced absence had created a hunger in both of them that could hardly be satisfied beneath the watchful eyes of others. But under the circumstances it was impossible for them to withdraw to Bess's private chambers.

Thomas Seymour, the newly appointed lord high admiral, held forth on the necessity of increasing the navy to a formidable force of ten thousand.

“Necessity?” William Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, asked, puzzled.

Frances laughed. “The necessity is to increase Tom's power. He has to do something to counter the power of his odious brother Edward and that insatiable wife of his!”

Her guests all joined in her laughter, for Edward Seymour had ridden roughshod over his fellow councillors. Bess watched Thomas with speculative eyes. Not only was he vain and arrogant, he, too, was insatiably ambitious. She wanted to say something to Cavendish, to warn him in some way.

When the meal was over and the company moved to a drawing room, William sought out Bess. “I've been starving for the sight of you.”

“Oh, William, I am so happy that you are confirmed as treasurer of the new king's chamber.”

He drew her hand to his lips in a formal kiss. “Who the devil else could do the job?” he murmured, unable to hide the wry amusement in his eyes. “The trouble is, I have to go to Evesham and Bordesley Abbeys in Warwickshire.”

Bess's dark eyes looked into his wistfully. “How long will you be gone?”

“Not an hour longer than is absolutely necessary,” he pledged, squeezing her hand, telling her how much he would miss her.

Bess confided in a near whisper, “I may be wrong, but I think the admiral has ambitions to marry Elizabeth.”

“You're not wrong. He's been told to forget it; it's absolutely impossible.” William shook his head. “Don't speak of it.”

Bess was relieved. It would put an end to the dangerous liaison. Yet she felt sorry for Elizabeth, who imagined herself in love with the swaggering devil.

The talk had turned to country homes. “Have you had a chance to visit Sudely yet?” Frances asked Thomas.

“Nay, it is in Gloucestershire, built of mellowed Cots-wold stone and reputed to have a magnificent banqueting hall.”

“We shall be going to Bradgate for the summer. Where does the time go? Only another month and we shall be packing up here.”

Bess said to William, “Try to get back before we leave for Bradgate.” She had been looking forward to seeing Bradgate in Leicestershire and visiting with her family in the next county, but suddenly the only place she wanted to go was Northaw.

Frances looked over at them and winked knowingly. “You are all invited to Bradgate to stay as long as you wish. William, you must promise to come and keep Henry company.”

Sir William was the first to leave, and Lady Herbert waited until Thomas Seymour had also departed before she told Frances—in strictest confidence, of course—
what her sister Catherine Parr, Queen Dowager, had divulged.

“That wretched Edward Seymour, self-styled protector of our king, wants the queen out of Hampton Court.”

Frances didn't give a tinker's damn for Catherine Parr, who had managed to put three elderly husbands in their graves, until Anne Herbert mentioned the word
Chelsea.
“Chelsea?” Frances cried in outrage. “He had the audacity to suggest she move her household to Chelsea Palace?
My
Chelsea? Bess, get my smelling salts.”

In spite of the fact that Frances declared Catherine Parr would reside at Chelsea
over her dead body
, she began to remove the furniture, paintings, and household items that belonged to the Greys, as well as everything else that took her fancy. With the aid of Bess and her other ladies, they spent almost a fortnight packing up clothes, linens, silver, bed hangings, and curtains. Some of the items were marked for Dorset House or Suffolk House, but Frances decided the bulk of the furnishings would go north to Bradgate.

Frances, Duchess of Suffolk, then made a formal protest to the privy council, pointing out that she had had the use of Chelsea Palace for many years. Surely, with all the palaces owned by the Crown, another residence could be found for the queen dowager.

“I have decided to sit tight and delay going to Brad-gate,” Frances told Bess. “The moment I leave London, they will descend upon Chelsea like bloody vultures!”

“If they do they will find that the carcass has been picked clean,” Bess remarked candidly.

Frances laughed heartily. “Possession is nine tenths of the law, remember that.”

In spite of Frances Grey's protest, Chelsea Palace was declared the official residence of Catherine Parr, Queen Dowager. And since she was stepmother to Elizabeth, it was decided that the princess would go with her. Now Frances really had a dilemma on her hands. Would she allow her daughter, Lady Jane, to reside with the queen dowager, or would she bring her home? It was clear she could not remain at Hampton Court Palace, which was turning into a male bastion for the bachelor king.

“The bloody lord protector has won!” Frances cried angrily. “It is clear he intends to isolate the little king from everyone he loves. Edward Seymour is removing anyone who might influence him: his stepmother, his sister, and my daughter. It is clear that his rabid bitch of a wife is advising him every step of the way!”

Since Frances had been outmaneuvered, she decided that Lady Jane Grey would indeed reside at Chelsea with the queen dowager and Princess Elizabeth. Frances, Bess, and a cluster of servants descended upon Hampton to move Lady Jane and her furnishings from one residence to the other.

Princess Elizabeth was in the middle of her own move, and Bess could steal only a moment alone with her. “Are you upset about moving to Chelsea, Your Grace?”

“No!” Elizabeth whispered. Suppressed excitement turned her amber eyes to glittering gold. “We'll be free of their watchful eyes; we'll be able to see each other every day at Chelsea!”

Bess was stunned. Didn't she know the admiral had been refused permission to marry her?

“I must go, Bess. Come and visit me at Chelsea.”

*   *   *

At the end of the month, Bess received a note from Cavendish marked
Private.
She opened the envelope and read the short message with a slight frown.

Her imagination conjured dozens of reasons for the secrecy. Was the news about Princess Elizabeth, Tom Seymour, the Greys? Or did it have to do with treasury business or his position therein? Was it about the privy council and some decision they had taken? The mystery baffled her.

In the late afternoon Bess gathered spring flowers from the gardens at Suffolk House, filling vases with lovely white lilies, purple lilac, and heavily scented hawthorne. She waited until after the evening meal to bathe and put on one of William's favorite gowns to help fill the hours until midnight.

At last the knock she had been waiting for came. She opened the door and flew into his arms. “Whatever is it?”

He enfolded her against him and kissed her hair. “Bess, my wife died today.”

She stared up at him in disbelief. It was the one thing she had never thought of. “William.” Her arms tightened about him.

“We must not be seen together for a decent interval; the gossips would crucify you,” he said intensely. “But I want to be with you. Will you come to Northaw for a few days, where we can be away from prying eyes?”

“Oh, yes, William. I love you so much.” She hid her
face against his chest to hide her tears. They were not tears of sorrow, may God forgive her, they were tears of joy.

“We cannot go together; we shall have to meet there. The funeral is the day after tomorrow. I'll come the next day.”

“Do Frances and Henry know?”

He shook his head. “We'll go and tell them together.” Hand in hand they made their way to the west wing, where the Greys had their private suite. Frances opened to their knock and admitted them, then her hand flew to her throat. “There's been another death!”

“Yes, my wife,” William acknowledged.

“Oh, thank God,” Frances said with an exaggerated sigh of relief. “Henry, pour us all some brandy, darling.”

“The burial is arranged for the day after tomorrow.”

“We'll be there, as will the rest of the Court, but Bess should disappear for a few days.”