Prisoner of the Queen (Tales From the Tudor Court) (30 page)

Mary, Queen of Scots… Elizabeth
’s other archrival. The new figurehead of Tudor Catholicism. Although she was not a Tudor directly from the line of Henry VIII, she had been born to Henry’s sister Margaret’s son, King James of Scotland. All those in England who hated the thought of a Protestant queen looked to Scotland and their new savior, Queen Mary Stuart. It was only a matter of time before rebellion stirred anew.

T
his was what Elizabeth intended to do? Banish me from sight to spend eternity in the heathenized Scotland with Catholics? To essentially be a part of their faction should a rebellion begin? And then I, too, would be put on the chopping block. I understood now she had not brought me closer to her, inviting me into a position with her privy chamber as a trusted subject, but only to torment me while she put together this well-laid plan.

She would see me dead
, and it had taken her only a short time to figure out how without getting her own hands dirty.

I did not even know how to respond to her, for to say anything in my own defense was likely to send her into a
tantrum of paramount proportion. And yet, I could not agree with her when I so abhorred the idea! Would I never have control over my own fate? The question needed no answer, for I’d never had, and I never would.

From across the room, Jane Dormer
, Countess of Feria—wife of the Spanish ambassador—saved me, although I doubt she had any idea what the queen had relayed to me.

“Lady Katherine, are you quite well? Is it a megrim again? You look positively
wan!” She put down her embroidery hoop and stepped toward me. “Apologies, Majesty, for interrupting, but I know Lady Katherine was unwell yesterday, and it would appear she is becoming ill again. We should not want Your Majesty to become afflicted as well.”

I knew then
that Jane Dormer had indeed heard our conversation and then most likely watched the color drain from my face, as I had in fact been quite
well
the day before.

Elizabeth narrowed her eyes as she
, too, tried to assess the situation. “Get thee to your chambers then, cousin. You shall need to improve as your suitor will be at court in a fortnight.”

Jane Seymour helped me to stan
d on shaky legs, whispering almost inaudibly in my ear, “Do not fret, love. ’Tis only another trick.”

“You will remain here, Lady Jane,” the
queen commanded.

My dearest friend
gave me an apologetic look and sat back down on her pillow.

I
allowed Jane Dormer’s steadiness to carry me to my chambers, trying not to trip on my vast skirts. My megrims were coming closer together. As a result, I was not eating as much and my gowns had grown loose. Mrs. Helen clucked around me as the countess took me to my bed. Between the two of them, they managed to remove my hood and pins, slippers and clothing down to my chemise and lay me on the bed.

“I am going to go and get her a posset. Will you stay a moment?” I heard
Mrs. Helen ask Lady Jane.

“I should be glad
to,” she murmured.

When
Mrs. Helen left, Lady Jane stroked my forehead and said, “I know a way that you can escape this place, escape from the queen’s machinations.”

My eyes blinked open and through the blur of pain that seared its way across my forehead, I saw
her eager expression.

“How?” I whispered.

“Spain.”

“Spain?” I mumbled.
Queen Mary had found allies with the Spanish, and I had so loved Mary…

“We shall not discuss
it here.” The countess looked about the room as if suspecting someone to jump from behind a tapestry. “I will invite you to dine with us at Durham House next week. My covered barge will carry you down the Thames. ‘Twill give you some privacy.”

I nodded, not entirely sure what I was agreeing
to. Was it somehow possible for Ned and I to marry in Spain? The countess was well aware of my intentions to marry Ned, as I had told her on one desperate night when my heart ached so fiercely in his absence. Elizabeth had yet to offer Ned a place at her court, and in fact, Lady Anne Seymour, his mother, was not here either. I had a feeling she kept them away for two reasons. One, because Lady Anne had been party to Elizabeth’s own mother’s demise…and two, she knew that I loved Ned.

Mrs. Helen
bustled in with a steaming cup.

“Rest, dear Kat,”
Lady Jane said. “I shall send for you soon.”

The next morning…

At first light I called for ink and paper and wrote out a scratchy note to Ned. My writing was long and scrawled, not much unlike when Mr. Aylmer, my tutor, had first urged me to begin my writing lessons. I had not the patience for it that my sister, Jane, did. Now that I was writing a letter to Ned, I was a little embarrassed at the fact. Taking my time—and balling up seven pieces of paper before I was satisfied my writing was legible—I wrote to him. With a shiny groat I paid a footman to deliver it to Ned’s new house in London on Canon Row.

My Good Ned,

Court is vacant without your energetic presence. I find I am without a dance partner who will gift my feet with nary a trod, nor a good card player whom will let me
lose. I pray for your return to court soon. I desire to take pleasure in your company once more.

I must also
relay to you, because my heart doth trust yours immeasurably, there are plots afoot, and I fear I am not clever enough to ferret them out. I have been approached by some and wish for your guidance and council.

With true heart,

Katherine Grey

The footman delivered, within an hour, Ned’s reply.

Dearest Katherine,

My advice would be to seek your cousin and sovereign in these matters. She would know
est best how to deal with anyone who would endeavor to harm you.

Unfortunately, the business with my estates has kept me waylaid from
court, but I do have good news! I hope to return no later than the summer progress, as I have been requested by Her Majesty to accompany the court. I am in London at present, but soon will retire to Wiltshire where I have been gifted with a manor in much need of repair.

With most esteem,

Lord Hertford

My heart crumpled upon reading Ned’s distant reply. My worst fears were being realized. Ned had forgotten our love. Or else, was trying to purposefully put some distance between us. How could I go about the clandestine meeting with the Spanish ambassador without assistance? I should have liked to seek out my mother, but she was too ill, and my step-grandmother, Katherine Brandon, was somewhere north with her husband. I could have turned to Lady Anne, Duchess of Somerset, but one never knew whose side she was on. I should not have liked to disturb her with my childish difficulties.

And why should Ned
have been so cold? To not have seen me for half a year and nary a tear? He did not even seem to mind our separation when once he’d begged for us to marry within an hour. Had our love dwindled so? Did he wish to break off our betrothal, however unofficial it may have been?

I put pen to paper again, this time not taking so much care in the forming of my letters. Another gro
at, and the footman was out to deliver my note.

My Sweet Lord,

Why should I find your letters so cold and indifferent? When once we talked of marriage and shared sweet kiss
es? Now I find you distant.

’Tis
impossible for me to speak with my cousin. She has shown no goodwill nor faith toward me and cannot abide the sight of me.

I beg
of you, as my betrothed, return to me soon, for fear I shall come undone.

With heart
’s fondness,

Kat

Not even an hour had passed when the man returned with Ned
’s reply, sweating from riding hard and shifting his gaze in obvious embarrassment.

Dearest Kat,

I most humbly beseech your forgiveness should you have thought my last letter to offer you coldness when what you need most is warmth. I remember fondly the taste of your lips and the softness of your hands in mine.

I will endeavor to hurry through my business. And I do testify, I have been begged to leave off from our courtship by Master Cecil and my most respected mother. I should not want to, but I beg of you, Kat, for our sake, for love’s sake, have a care. We are being watched.

With humble, loyal heart
,

Ned

With
a glad heart, I put Ned’s letter into the crackling fire in the hearth. He had not forsaken me but was instead trying to protect me. While I may have been on my own with this latest embroilment, I had to trust in God that He would see me through.

I glanced around my chamber
, making certain I was indeed alone. The room was empty despite the all-seeing eyes that graced the faces of nobles’ past. I unlocked the chest at the foot of my bed using a key I kept on a chain within my gown. I shifted aside some fabrics and ribbons until I came upon the small latch that released the secret compartment and pulled out Jane’s Greek Testament. I sat back on my heels and read her last letter to me. Every time I read it, I grew stronger and, in reading, seemed to know just what to do. I could almost hear her fervent voice, desperate for me to listen, to understand.

“Be like the good servant and even in midnight be waking, lest when death cometh he steal upon you like a thief in the night and you be with the evil servant, found sleeping and lest for lack of oil ye be found like the first foolish wench and like him that had not the wedding garment, ye be out from the marriage.”

“I miss you, Jane. I miss you terribly.”

February 20, 1560

A slight knock sounded at the door, startling me. My nightingale, Cora, who’d been resting on my finger, took flight, her pretty song no longer cheerful. Her frightened shrill sent Stew to jumping about the room and Arabel and Beau barking at the door, when normally they waited patiently to see who entered.

I
’d let Mrs. Helen have half the day off, although she’d insisted on taking only a few hours. One of my other attendants went to the door and opened it to reveal the Countess of Feria dressed in a dark wool cloak with ermine trimmings. She entered the room quietly and met my gaze.

“Gather your cloak, my lady, the barge is waiting.”

I’d had no warning that this morning I would meet with the ambassador and frowned in her direction. “I am not prepared to leave. My lady’s maid is not even present.”

The
countess turned toward the girl who’d opened the door. “Your name?”

The girl glanced at the plush tapestried carpet
. “Alice Morris, my lady.”

“
Alice shall accompany you, Lady Katherine. Come now, the barge awaits, and Her Majesty is resting. You will not be missed if we hurry.”

“Fetch my cloak,
Alice.” My voice was a bit crisp, and I felt sorry for that, but I was irritated the countess would presume to tell me what to do. I was well above her station, and while she had sought at first to run interference between the queen and me—or at least that was how I was supposed to perceive it—I was also well aware that whatever plot was brewing it would benefit her and her husband as well. That very notion meant it could also endanger me in the process.

I turned to the two
yeomen at my door. “When Mrs. Helen returns, inform her I’ve gone to visit a friend and shall return shortly.”

The men nodded, keeping their gazes straight ahead.

With my cloak of soft burgundy wool and spotted white and brown ermine fur wrapped around my shoulders and a fur-lined hood over my head, we stepped from the room. The corridors were mostly empty at this time of day. Courtiers were busy with their plots and secrets while Her Majesty was at rest in her bed. Servants worked to complete their duties. And we three walked stealthily through the corridors into the garden, the palace orchard and then to the quay, where a barge—without arms—waited.

“
’Tis not marked, so anyone who would look from a window would not see the House of Feria drifting over the Thames from Westminster,” the countess said as one of her oarsmen guided her aboard.

I followed suit
, and we sat comfortably beneath a canopy upon heated pillows, fur blankets on our laps and heated rocks at our feet.

The barge slipped through the freezing water until reaching Durham House, where the
ambassador of Spain and his wife, the countess, resided in London. We exited the barge and were ushered swiftly into the house by several liveried servants. A blast of warm air and the scents of baking bread washed over us upon entering.

“You go to the kitchens
. I shall attend Lady Katherine from here,” Lady Jane said to my maid, who scurried away without even looking to me for direction.