Prisoner of the Queen (Tales From the Tudor Court) (39 page)

“And I truly look forward to it,” I said seriously.
“I will count the moments until we can live truly as man and wife.”

Ned kissed me tenderly on the forehead, his thumb drawing over my new wedding ring.
“Did you notice your ring, my lady wife?”

I
held my hand up for us both to see and studied the gold ring of intertwining circlets. “’Tis beautiful.”

“I had it made especially for you. For us. Let me show you.” He slipped the ring from my finger and then mesmerized me when he opened the circlets to reveal the words
on each ring.

As circles five by art compact show but one ring: in sight,

So trust uniteth faithful minds with knot of: secret might,

Whose force to break (but greedy Death) no evil: possesseth power,

As time and sequels well shall prove, my ring can: say no more.

Tears came to my eyes. “So beautiful.”

“I meant every word, Kat. I love you deeply, and now that you are truly mine, I shall not let anyone tear us apart.”

“I love you
, too, my sweet Ned.”

We lay in the silent glow of our emotions for some time, drifting in an out of light slumber.
Ned’s voice broke our reverie. “I hate for us to part, but the hour grows late, and if you do not return to the palace soon, your absence will be noted by those left to attend you.”

“
Mrs. Helen said she’d hold them off, but you are right. She cannot do so forever.”

December 15, 1560

“Lady Katherine, I should like to read your fortune. Let me see your hand,” Blanche Parry said. The ladies of the bedchamber and several council members lounged in the queen’s presence chamber, wiling away the afternoon. Blanche was fond of telling fortunes, and she’d already told those of Lady Fiennes de Clinton, Bess St. Loe and Her Majesty.

I laughed a little and took her hand. From over her shoulder I spied Cecil
, who stared at me intently. He’d come to me that morning, and I’d been waiting for it, as he’d approached Ned the day before, asking about the nature of our intimate relationship. Ned had denied him his concerns. But still Cecil had approached me and said in serious tones that he adamantly advised me to beware of the company and familiarity I was keeping with Ned. Wed three weeks and yet a secret.

I turned my gaze from Cecil as if I
had not seen him standing there watching me and smiled at Blanche. How like the man to spoil our fun.

“Tell me my fortune, I do so want to know.”
I held out my hands palms up, and Blanche ran her fingers over their surface.

“T
here are many things I see here,” she whispered. Then, suddenly, Blanche pulled her hands away from me and glanced up in horror, her eyes as wide as saucers.

I narrowed my
gaze and glanced up at Cecil. What games were they playing at? I looked toward Queen Elizabeth, who had occupied herself with chatting with Robert Dudley, thank goodness.

“
Your palms say, Lady Katherine, that if you should marry without Her Majesty’s permission in writing, you and your husband will be undone and your fate worse than that of your sister.”

I stood abruptly
, upsetting a dog who lounged behind my chair. I had thought Blanche a friend, but it appeared I was wrong. “How dare you say such a thing to me?” I responded in an acid whisper. “How dare you speak my sister’s name? You are no fortune-teller. Only a licentious, slandering viper. There are far more unseemly relations at this court. I expect an apology for such abominable words!”

Several eyes moved to the
queen as she spoke with Robert, firmly grasping my meaning. No one spoke. Did they all suspect Ned and I were married? It was clear they suspected we planned to at the very least.

Queen
Elizabeth swiveled toward our group, her eyes spearing me with daggers. “What is amiss?”

“Nothing, Majesty,” I said
, more sternly than needed.

“Did you not like the fortune Blanche read for you?” The
queen left Robert’s side and came to stand before us. “What was it?”

My eyes flashed to Blanche
’s, imploring her with my gaze not to say anything. I could barely breathe. Was everything about to fall apart right now?

“I believe she mentioned to Lady Katherine that her marriage to Lord Arran would be fruitful,” Cecil interjected before Blanche could answer.

Several courtiers tittered meaningless words and nodded. Blanche’s face paled considerably, and she swallowed hard. “I meant no offense,” she muttered.

Queen Elizabeth laughed. “I can see why Lady Katherine would be so offended
, since she is hardly grateful for my choice in her mate.”

I felt faint, as if I might collapse on the floor within moments
if I could not escape the venomous pit. “Majesty, I beg of you to excuse me to my chambers.”

She waved me away as if I were a fly she would squash.
By the time I made it to my chamber, Ned was there, waiting. “Word travels fast,” I grumbled.

“Never faster than at court.” He laughed. “Let me pour you a glass of wine.”

I nodded, leaning against his supporting arm, and we entered my chamber, waving away the servants.

“I
’ll be right outside the door should you have need of anything,” Mrs. Helen said quietly. I was grateful for her diligence, since at that moment, I couldn’t care less if someone were to burst through the door. I reached up and fingered the gold chain with the circlet on it, buried beneath my bodice.

Ned handed me a cup of wine and then walked behind me to rub my shoulders and kiss my neck.
I reached up and held his hand in mine. Ned was my backbone. If it weren’t for him, I wasn’t sure I could continue on at this vicious court with head held high, where it seemed I had no friends other than he and his sister, Jane.

Then he made me feel loved all the more when he carried
me to bed in the broad daylight—though we did not completely throw caution to the wind, for we’d both decided that a pregnancy would do nothing to further our cause—only infuriate our volatile monarch.

Chapter
Nineteen

But weighing well a subject
’s state,

and what was duties bounds:

He yielded straight to open harms,

for fear of secret wounds.

And venturing life, yea lands and goods,

to keep his name from blot…

~Thomas Churchyard

Elizabethan Solider and
poet

February 13, 1561

A
second month passed that I deceived the keepers of my linens…

I pour
ed a few drops from a vial of deer’s blood onto my sheets and smeared it on my chemise, then ripped the wretched fabric from my body, bundling it up and tossing it on the bed.

The vial, which Jane
had managed to smuggle to me from only God knew where, had prevented suspicion of what I was nearly certain was my current state.

I
was with child.

I want
ed to be happy. I wanted to bear Ned an heir.

But if the
queen found out, I would be tossed in the Tower, Ned as well, and our child most likely murdered after he took his first breath—or before.

I dropped to my knees and prayed, naked and shaking upon the cold stone floor.

March 30, 1561

Whispers sounded around me. They g
ave off an eerie hiss, and I felt as though I must be dead.

But I c
ouldn’t have been dead. Dead people did not feel pain. My pain was deep, and it wrenched my insides. My head felt as though the executioner had taken off the top but hadn’t finished the job. Indeed, my entire being felt as though I’d spent the last sennight in a torture chamber in the bowels of the Tower of London.

But
’twas not that.

My heart ache
d with a pain more fierce than when I’d lost my mother, my father and my sister.

My dear sweet Jane Seymour
had died.

Just a week
past she had been well and merry, guarding my chamber door when Ned and I were alone. Sharing secrets with me in the gardens and prolifically writing with her two sisters.

Now she was dead.
Finally succumbing to the illness that she’d slowly wasted away from over the years.

The only witness to Ned
’s and my marriage, for none of us knew who that priest was, and should I ever have seen him again I did not know that I would recognize him. The queen would have no reason to believe us now.

I placed a protective hand over the small knot on my abdomen.

I did not want to ever leave this darkened chamber, the comfort of my counterpane pulled up around my shoulders.

But
I should have to rise in a couple of days for Jane’s funeral procession. The queen had promised a funeral befitting Jane’s royal deference, and she would be buried beside my own mother in St. Edmund’s at Westminster Abbey. Ned had already commissioned a lovely monument for her body.

But for now
, I mourned, curled into a ball beneath my coverlets and refusing to come out. Not until I must.

Mid-April, 1561

“I will not leave you, Kat.” Ned paced the orchard, the trees and flowers just starting to bloom filling the air with succulent scents.

“You must, Ned. The
queen has arranged for your departure abroad. Many courts are awaiting your arrival. She demands you go. You must do her bidding. You shall see the world and return to me a man with much education.” I smiled, trying to ease the tension.

“But you could be with child, Kat. God knows we were not
overly careful of that fact, and we’ve gone around court like a couple of sensual halfwits.”

His words stung, however true they were.
We’d succumbed to passion and not been careful only one time. It did appear that only once was all it took.

I gritted my teeth a moment and then lied.
“I have no way to be certain if there is a babe within my womb, Ned. I desire for you to go abroad. I shall be fine, and if it comes to pass that I am with child, I will send word straightaway.”

With Elizabeth’s current state of mind, we’d both see the scaffold before the end of the day if I told him the truth, for Ned would not leave me to bear the lion’s wrath alone.

He swiped a hand down over his face. “But what of the queen?”

“There is no remedy for her ill will toward me, Ned.
We shall have to abide and trust in Her Majesty’s mercy and forgiveness for deceiving her if it comes to that.”

Which it would
, and I was in no way read to face her.

“I only wish you could say precisely whether you are with child
, then I would not depart this realm for another. I would stay with you, Kat. You should not have to go through with it alone.”

Did he realize how accurate his words? I was truly alone now. My dearest friend and confidante gone, my mother gone. My sister Jane, gone. My sister Mary… We
’d never been close. I could not count on her council as she kept to herself—self-preservation having kept her well away from court and our mother since she was a child.

“I cannot, Ned.”

He sighed loudly, raked his hands through his hair and then placed his hands on his hips.

“Then I should go, wife. The
queen bids me leave the realm for the sight of other courts so that I might come to knowledge of things that will better suit her in this realm. I cannot say I shan’t go for no good reason.”

’
Twas insanity, but I had nothing else. Perhaps when he was abroad I could meet him and give birth in secret. “I agree, you should go.”