Prisoner of the Queen (Tales From the Tudor Court) (41 page)

Bess
’s gaze caught with mine, stricken. “I will speak with my husband. Mayhap he knows better than I.”

But the next morning at
chapel, it appeared the only thing her husband knew best to do was tell the whole of court. Everyone whispered behind hands, eschewing me as though I had the plague.

Even Bess. She walked right past me, her nose in the air. Betrayal
had never felt so keen.

I begged leave of the court and stayed in my chamber the rest of the day, praying for mercy and writing an urgent letter to Ned that all had become known. When night fell, once more I left my chamber in search of another ally. This time, Robert Dudley. I did not knock, knowing instinctively he would not see me. Instead
, I bribed his guards to let me in, and the two men gave leering smiles.

I ignored them and entered, finding Robert reading in his window seat, still full dressed, and his legs propped up casually.
He startled when he saw me. “Lady Katherine! What are you doing in my chambers?” He glanced behind me as if expecting someone else to be there.

I rushed forward and dropped to my knees in front of him, tears of despair streaming down my face.
“Please, my lord, I beg of you, as my brother-by-marriage, on the souls of our two siblings, that you present my confession to the queen and beg her for mercy and forgiveness.”

He slammed closed his book and tossed it aside.
“Madame, rise! What is this you speak of?” Robert stood and helped me to a chair.

I let spill the same story I
’d told Bess and, to my utter dismay, was given the same response.

He jumped from his chair and pointed toward the door.
“I’d heard rumors of this… The whole of court is wondering of it. Leave! Else they think I am the father!”

“But, my lord, please, you must help me, being you are in great favor to Her Majesty!”

Robert raked his hands through his hair, jumping when a log snapped in his hearth. “I shall speak to her on the morrow. Now get you gone. Go!”

I
hastened from his room, feeling ashamed and frightened. I almost did not go back to my own rooms. I wanted to take flight and run away. But where? There was nowhere. I slunk back to my bedchamber and crawled between the sheets, but sleep did not come. Tomorrow my fate would be decided.

So many years ago, I had lain in bed with fear of arrest when Queen Mary had come to take her crown and in so doing had arrested my sister. I felt the same, so young and naïve, and once more here I lay, in bed, in fear of arrest. And this time it was of my own doing. Not the fault of someone else, but me. Reckless emotion governed my life.

A loud banging came at t
he door, and I closed my eyes, willing it away.

“My lady!”
Mrs. Helen said, fear filling her eyes, for she too had been waiting for this moment.

“Let them in,
Mrs. Helen.”

I stood from
my bed, slipped my feet into slippers and pulled on my robe. At least I would be taken away partially dressed. The queen’s guard filed into the room. Sir William St. Loe—Bess’s husband—came to stand before me, unraveling a parchment. “Lady Katherine, you are hereby arrested in the name of Her Majesty, Queen Elizabeth I of England, and charged with treason.”

I stood tall, my chin lifted, one hand on my belly. “I have committed no treason.”

“You have unlawfully wed, conceived a child and plotted against Her Majesty to overtake her throne.”

I gasped. “I have done no such thing!”

Sir William glanced at my large, obviously pregnant belly and raised a brow.

My chin rose higher.
“I have not plotted against Her Majesty. I confess I have loved and wed without her permission, but the child growing within me is not a bastard!”

“We shall see.
You are to be given no manner of favor. Let us go quietly to the Tower.”

Two guards stepped forward, one on either side, and gripped my arms.
I was surrounded by an armed guard as if they expected I, a slight, heavily pregnant woman, would fight them.

“I am perfectly capable of walking on my own.”

“Queen’s orders,” Sir William responded.

“Oh, have mercy on a princess of the blood! Let her go
fully dressed, sirs!” Mrs. Helen shouted.

They allowed me only a few minutes to dress, and they did not leave the room, but stood guard in
case I decided to place any weapons on my person.

“What of my maid?”

“She will follow with your things and other tirewomen.”

I swallowed hard. So Elizabeth would have me go completely alone.
But at least my solitude would not last long.

They said no more, but marched me through the palace and gardens to
a waiting wagon and horses that would take us to London. The long, windy, bumpy road jostled relentlessly. Every muscle clenched to keep me still so I would not fall over. Several times, I feared flying out of the wagon. There was no covering, and dust, rocks and bugs collected en masse upon my face, hair and gown. No matter how much I attempted to wipe the debris away, only more collected.

As we passed a creek, my bladder screamed for relief, and my flesh yearned to be washed.

I mustered up the strength and tried to speak. The first words came out a croak, my throat was so dry from lack of drink. No favor had been granted me indeed. I cleared my throat and licked my lips. “I must stop.”

One of the guards riding in the back of the wagon grunted
, not even bothering to look my way. “No stopping.”

I squared my shoulders
and glared, willing him to look my way. “It is not a request.”

His eyes rolled, then he shouted to the wagon
driver. “Lady needs to take a piss!”

The other guards laughed
, and heat flamed my face. How dare they treat me in such a way? My own cousin was the Queen of England, and I a princess of the blood! But to them I was only a prisoner. I’d be lucky to make it to London in one piece.

They pulled the wagon to the side of the road, and only after I awkwardly tried to dismount from the back of the
wagon did the lead guard offer me assistance.

“Thank you.”

He did not respond, only held on to my elbow and led me toward a cluster of trees.

“Some privacy, if you will.”

“No, my lady. Best to get it done quickly.” He boldly watched me as I wobbled on unstable legs, trying to squat, skirts bunched up around my knees.

Angry tears threatened to spill. I wanted to pick up a sharp rock and hit him on the head with it. When I finished, and somehow managed to stand, I held my head high and swept
past him, intent on reaching the embankment.

“Where
are you going? Back in the wagon,” the guard ordered.

“I need some water.”

He huffed and grumbled but did allow me half a minute to splash water on my face and take a sip before yanking me up and lifting me back into the wagon. “We won’t be stopping again.”

True to his word
, we did not stop again, and it actually felt as though the men drove faster, rougher than before. My limbs screamed for a soft mattress, and my throat burned it was so parched. When we reached London, they forcefully pulled me to the ground, amid the crowds of jeering people. They did not know me from any other prisoner, and my once-well-tailored gown was covered in dirt and torn in places where it had caught in the wagon.

I closed my eyes
, wondering if this was how my sister Jane had felt. Was I following in her footsteps? We boarded a moored barge for our final leg of the trip—a short ride down the Thames to the Tower. The guards made me stand so that all along the banks could see me. I stared straight ahead, refusing to be cowed. But then the Tower came into view.

The imposing white walls loomed up into the sky, the four corners of the Towers each topped with a metal spire stabbing the clouds.
For the space of a moment, my heart stopped beating.

I swallowed hard
, a solid rock of nausea forming in my belly. I had not been back to the Tower since Jane had been imprisoned there. The barge slowed to a pace so slow we could have been moored. Ages seemed to pass before we pulled into the gate.
Traitors’ Gate.
A name so aptly picked for those who normally traversed its opening. Traitors. But I was no traitor! I’d fallen in love, married, gotten with child, and my queen sought to punish me for it. In her mind I had betrayed her. Betrayed her morals, her wants, her desires. Loved when she could not, and for that reason, I was a traitor.

The barge pulled up to the quay, and several guards marched up. They took me by the arms,
and every muscle screamed as I hobbled up the stairs. By the time we entered the courtyard, the lieutenant of the Tower, Sir Edward Warner, greeted me kindly, taking my hands in his. He did not seem to notice that my clothes and skin were covered in a film of dirt. As if to complete my humiliation, my belly growled for sustenance.

“
’Tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance, my lady. I only wish it were under different circumstances.”

I nodded, unable to speak
from my parched throat. The lieutenant waved over a guard and grabbed a tankard from him, bringing it to my lips. I swallowed heavily of the brew, even though its strength on a normal day would have made me wince.

“Thank you,” I murmured.

“I shall see to it you are properly cared for, my lady. We have contrived to make your room as pleasant as possible with a few relics you might appreciate. We have placed a few tapestries on the stone walls, one sewed by your cousin, our late Queen Mary, God rest her soul. There is also a bedstead covered with a red and gold quilt which should please your ladyship. A crimson velvet chair to rest your bones and two green footstools which your great-uncle Henry VIII used to rest his feet upon.”

It sounded heavenly, but I was so exhausted
and filled with fear that I could barely nod my head in thanks.

“What of the
queen?” I asked.

“She will continue on her progress while we question you and Lady St. Loe. Lord Hertford
has been recalled immediately to court.”

“Lady St. Loe?”

“She, too, has been arrested.”

Oh, what horror was this? Had Sir William taken pleasure in arresting me since his own wife had been taken to the Tower as well?
“May I send a letter?”

“I will have to read the letter, my lady.”

I did not want him to read the letter! I wanted to write to Ned and tell him to stay away from court as long as possible since his arrest would be imminent! That I had been thrown into the Tower. That our child, which we had created with so much love, would be born behind these prison walls and named a bastard. I wanted my letter to arrive before his recall from the queen, so he had warning. Despite the lack of response from Ned when I’d written of my troubles, I still loved him. He was still my husband, and we were still going to have a child. No doubt, if it went out now, my note would be right on the heels of the queen’s summons. Though it appeared her plans to arrest me had been at least a day ahead of the event.

“Sir Edward. If I might beseech you…” I trailed off, swallowing my pride.

“Lady Katherine, I harbor you no ill will. I will send one letter for you without reading it. But one only,” he whispered.

My shoulders sagged with relief. He would not make me beg. I wanted to hug the lieutenant and fall to sobbing all at once.

“Your women should be arriving soon, my lady, and I have given them permission to collect your pets.”

I gave him a wan smile. At least I would have the comfort of my ever-loving animals.

Chapter Twenty