Cor Rotto: A novel of Catherine Carey (3 page)

“The queen has landed at Dover!” Nan squealed with delight as she ran into our room. She flopped herself on the bed and heaved a great sigh. “Finally, we shall be able to meet our mistress. I hope she is kind like Queen Jane was. It would be awful if she were as harsh and demanding as the other Queen Anne.”

My smile faded. It took a moment for Nan to realise what she had said. Her hand flew to her lips. “Oh Catherine, I am so sorry, I forgot she was ... I did not mean ...”

I raised my hand and stopped her.

“It is fine,” I said through gritted teeth. “I realise that my aunt did not always show her best side when she was under pressure, but I could hardly blame her given the situation in which she found herself.” Seeing the stricken look on her face I softened. “I am sure she will be a wonderful mistress. I am certain your mother has told Master Hussee all about her stop in Calais in her letters.”

At the mention of Lady Lisle’s numerous missives to poor John Hussee, Nan and I fell into a fit of laughter. That woman was always writing to demand something from him.

A few weeks after Christmas, we arrived at Greenwich, and the disastrous meeting between the king and his betrothed was the talk of the court. Nan had all of the details and delighted in spreading the gossip. It seemed that the king, in a fit of passion, had taken his men with him and ridden hard to Rochester. He had wanted to strike the Lady of Cleves with, as he said, the ‘dart of love’. In his usual fashion, he had burst into her chamber in disguise, hoping that she would fall madly in love upon his arrival. Instead, she had been more interested in the bear baiting taking place outside her window than some outrageously dressed stranger who claimed to serve her husband. Incensed, the king had left her rooms and returned in his regal finery to present her with a gift of sables. She had tried to be gracious once she realised her error, but the damage had already been done. Shortly, after some uncomfortable small talk, Henry had taken to his horse and headed to Gravesend where his barge had been waiting to take him on to Greenwich where the queen was to be formally received.

Nan’s face flushed in the telling. I could see her delight in the queen’s misfortune and I knew it was not out of cruelty, but jealousy. Rumours had been circulating since Queen Jane’s death that Nan would be the king’s next consort, but they turned out to be unfounded and Nan had been bitterly disappointed. I don’t think she truly loved the king, but she thrived on the attention. Nan would have bloomed like a rose on the throne, but it was not meant to be. She would have to be content with catching the eye of another man at Court, but she was not above taking joy in seeing her replacement’s discomfort.

I did not want the Queen’s maids-of-honour coming to her giddy on gossip over her troubles so I changed the subject.

“Katherine, what are you wearing to the banquet tonight? I saw the looks that Tom Culpeper was giving you at the last one. It seems you two dance very well together.”

Katherine Howard let a small giggle escape and a blush overcame her cheeks. “Whatever do you mean, lady cousin?” she asked her eyes wide.

We all began to laugh. Katherine might seem innocent, but she never hid her emotions. We knew of her affections for the king’s groom of the stool, but we were content to let her think us in the dark. Soon, the queen’s sad tale was forgotten and we were happily pulling out gowns for Katherine.

The reception for the new queen was a sight to behold. The great ladies of the court and the maids-of-honour waited in the pavilion for the king to make his arrival. Trumpets sounded announcing his arrival as he processed through the park on horseback, dressed in cloth of gold and royal purple. His crown glinted in the bright winter sunlight. John Dudley, Nan’s step-brother, was Queen Anne’s master of the horse. He stepped forward, dressed in his best, and offered his hand to the queen. She smiled awkwardly and he helped her onto her horse. Dudley led them out to meet the king upon his arrival. The Duchesses of Somerset and Richmond led the way with Marchioness of Dorset, Countess of Rutland and Lady Margaret Douglas behind them. The maids-of-honour and other gentlewomen hung back to watch the spectacle.

Once they met in the middle of the park, both the king and queen dismounted. The king doffed his hat and made reverence to the queen and, in return, she knelt low. The king embraced her and they both turned and waved to their court. Back on their horses, they processed to the inner courtyard where they kissed and celebratory artillery was fired. Though I am sure the king was smouldering with anger inside, he never once let on to his people that all was not well. The queen was led to her privy chamber so she could become better acquainted with her ladies. The king withdrew as well, probably eager to berate his councillors for getting him into this untenable situation.

In the queen’s chambers I finally had a moment to take her in. I was struck by how sturdy she seemed. I knew that Aunt Anne had been very slight and of middling stature and I had heard that Queen Jane was quite delicate, but this new queen looked as though she could work the land. She was tall and rather stocky, her face ruddy as though she had been out in the fields in the wind and sun. But when she smiled, her face lit up, her doe eyes crinkling at the corners. She seemed nervous and kept her ladies from home near to her. I watched the noble-women of the court pay respects to her. She listened intently as though she were working out the words that they spoke to her and it occurred to me that she knew very little of our language. I knew that the other ladies would take advantage of this and I saw a few begin to cluster and whisper to each other, trying to hide their scorn beneath their hands. I became overwhelmed with pity. I knew that she would not last long in a vain court such as ours.

The formalities done, the English ladies went about their business while the queen sat, hands clasped in her lap, and stared off into space. No one seemed to know what to do next. Most of us had never served a foreign queen before. After a moment, an idea came to me. I asked one of the pages for a deck of cards. I gathered Lady Rochford, Nan Bassett and Lady Dudley and explained my plan. I thanked the page for the cards and we approached the queen. She smiled at us curiously and I held out the deck. A great smile spread across her face and she clapped her hands together, nodding in excitement. We giggled in relief and spent the day before the fire playing card games with our new mistress.

The day of the wedding fell after Advent so the celebrations would be short-lived, but it was a royal wedding after all. We dressed Queen Anne in a gorgeous cloth-of-gold gown, rubies and sapphires around her throat. Her golden brown hair fell loose down her back, crowned with a coronet of gold and jewels. A garland of rosemary hung around her waist. The ceremony would be private and we would not be there, so I prayed she would be happily received. I had seen the king stomping about the palace earlier in the day and my stomach quaked with fear for her. She smiled serenely and gave a wave as she was led to the king by the Dukes of Suffolk and Norfolk. As he led her out of the room, Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk, gave me a wink and a smile. He had been so kind to me since my arrival and I was glad that he would be escorting her. It would be a nice contrast to my Uncle Norfolk’s stiff personality.

After the ceremony the rest of the court was invited to the feast. The king and queen dined on the dais under a gold cloth of state, the premier nobles of the court on either side of them. Plate after plate came out of the kitchens, piled high with trout, clams, eel, plover and duck. During Lenten season there would be no red meat, but there was plenty of food from the sea. We ate until our hearts’ content, and then made our way to chapel for Evensong. After the service the masques could begin.

The music and ale made me feel as light as a feather. I dropped my inhibitions and my face flushed with my heart light, I danced with every young man that asked, but secretly I wished that Richard could join the celebration. I knew he had nothing to offer my family, but I could not help the attraction I had towards him. Maybe there was some hope. My mother had managed to marry Stafford after all.

I looked around at all the noblemen that graced the court and tried desperately to tamp down my emotions. I caught Katherine’s eye. She threw her head back and laughed at something Culpeper whispered to her. I envied her. Culpeper was in her reach, Richard was out of mine. I looked to the king, the man who would decide my fate. I would have to have faith in him. He caught me staring. A broad smile spread across his face and he nodded his head towards me. It was the first time he had acknowledged my presence. In that moment, despite my best efforts, I felt a twinge of love for my father. I was so angry with him for so many reasons, but I began to understand why he was so beloved. It was his charm and charisma. I began to wonder if I would ever figure him out.

On the 4th February, we floated down the frigid Thames on a barge covered in Cleves swans to Westminster. The queen was in her jovial mood. Though she still had not mastered the language, she seemed to be adapting to other aspects of life at the English court. She excelled at cards and often relieved the Duke of Suffolk of his gambling purse during Primero.

We had seen very little of the king since the wedding, but like a good husband he made a point to visit the queen’s rooms at least once a week. Knowing the king’s reputation with wives who failed to reproduce, I waited anxiously for the chamber-maids to give us the sly look that indicated a maiden’s blood on the sheets, but none ever came. By the time we moved on to Hampton Court, where we would celebrate Easter festivities, the queen’s ladies had begun to talk.

“Lady Rutland has asked me to approach the queen,” Jane Rochford whispered to me as we sat in the window embrasure sewing.

“Is there something you need? I’m sorry I was concentrating on this stitch and missed what you said before,” I muttered as I pulled out an errant stitch that had come loose.

Exasperated, she replied, “I do not need anything. You missed nothing. I said Lady Rutland has asked me to approach the queen to ask if she is still a maid. By now there would be some evidence of her pregnancy, but she continues to have her courses on schedule and the king almost never visits her. How does she expect to get a Duke of York?”

I stopped toying with the stitch and eyed her critically. “How long were you married to George before your courses stopped?”

I regretted my words when I saw the hurt on her face. “I’m sorry, Jane, I didn’t mean to upset you. But as you know, babies come in the Lord’s time and I do not know that it is any of yours or Lady Rutland’s business whether the king is intimate with his wife or not. The last time you mentioned the king’s inabilities, my aunt and uncle lost their heads. Please do not get involved.”

Jane stared down at her lap. “I was just trying to help. Why do I always find myself in the middle of these matters?”

I put down my needle and reached for her hand. “Because, my dear Jane, you have the best of intentions and I know you want to help. But sometimes it is not worth the risk.”

“You are right, Catherine. But in this matter I feel I must do as Lady Rutland asks. We all know that the king is not happy in this marriage and it is only a matter of time before he makes a move to get rid of her. And when he does, we will no longer have a place at Court. I cannot bear to be alone at Blickling again. I know my place is here,” she implored, her eyes searching mine for approval.

“Jane, you must do what your heart tells you. But I will have no part in it.”

I turned to look at the queen. She sat placidly before the fire, her eyes closed, while a musician played a lilting tune on the lute. Her lips curled into a smile. She was calm only because she had no idea of the pressure that was building around her. For her, ignorance was blissful. But like Jane, I too was terrified for her.

Once we arrived at Hampton Court and the weather cleared, I resumed my daily visits with Richard. I loaded a basket with wine, cheese and bread, and we would ride out into the park to see the king’s stags. The young ones were in velvet this time of year and I delighted in watching them gingerly pick their way through the brush. Those were the happiest moments of my day. I felt feather-light when Richard wrapped his hands around my waist to lift me from the saddle, and every time his arm brushed mine, my skin erupted in goose bumps.

I lay in bed, tossing and turning in frustration. I could not get Richard out of my mind. Not knowing how he felt was killing me. Katherine grunted beside me. “Stop moving, I am trying to sleep.”

I decided to go for a walk. As quietly as I could, I dressed and covered myself in my cloak and crept out of the room, trying not to wake the other maids. The torches were still burning in the hall and I heard whispers in the dark corners. Lover’s talk, I thought to myself, and hastened down the corridor. I slipped out of the castle doors and crossed the garden to the stables. I was certain Richard was asleep in his own bed by now, but something compelled me onward.

When I arrived, the light flickering in the open windows from the candles stopped me in my tracks, and for a moment I thought of turning back. Instead, I took a deep breath filled with the scent of fresh hay and strode confidently into the stables as though I belonged there. Once my eyes adjusted to the darkness, I saw him standing by the furnace, his back to me.

“Richard?” I called out tentatively.

He spun around, a look of alarm on his face. “Catherine! What are you doing here?”

I walked towards him, hands outstretched for his. He eyed me warily, obviously confused as to why I had wandered into the empty stables in the middle of the night.

I approached him slowly. “I could not stop thinking of you. I tried desperately to sleep, but all I could think of was the scent of your skin and the sound of your voice. I want to spend all of my days with you. Richard, please put my mind at ease and tell me you feel the same,” I said hopefully.

Richard reached out and traced his hand down my cheek. “Of course I feel the same Catherine. I have been out here stacking hay all evening just to keep my mind off you.”

Confused, I asked, “Why do you need to keep your mind off me? Do you not realise how happy I am with you? How I want nothing more than to be with you?” I closed my eyes and leaned towards him, wishing with all my heart that he would kiss me.

“Catherine, I cannot do this,” he said, pulling his hand away.

My eyes fluttered open. I could already feel the burn behind them, but I willed myself not to cry. “Richard, I know that we should not be together. My mother and William Stafford should never have been together either, but they ran away and did it anyway and they were eventually forgiven. We can do that too. My family would understand,” I pleaded.

Richard took my hand and led me over to a bale of hay. The light from the fire in the furnace danced across his face. His eyes looked tired and for the first time I noticed the bags underneath them. He held my hand in his, tracing his finger across the palm of my hand. After a moment of silence, he looked up and said, “I cannot have you because you belong to someone else.”

A searing pain spread across my chest and I lost my breath. The wind had been knocked from me. When I finally found my voice I whispered, “What do you mean?”

“Catherine, you are the king’s daughter. He has found a husband for you and he is a good man. He will do right by you. He can give you a life that I never could,” he said wistfully.

I was taken aback. How could he know I was the king’s daughter? Then I remembered the conversation between Lord Lisle and Stafford back in Calais and it dawned on me that the rumours had probably run rampant since I arrived at Court. It was impossible to deny the physical similarities and now that my cousin, the Lady Elizabeth, had been to visit, it was even more evident. She and I looked more alike than her recognised sister, the Lady Mary. My sadness turned to anger, and I leapt from my seat.

“Who? Who has he chosen?” I spat out. I could feel my rage boiling to the surface. I could never choose anything. I would have to suffer the same restraints as Mary and Elizabeth, with none of the benefits of being recognised as a royal bastard. No household, no precedence, no dynastic marriage. I would always be under suspicion and the order of the king.

Richard wrapped his arms around me. Stroking my hair he whispered, “Catherine, please be calm. I know that you are angry, but this is the life you have been given. The king has chosen a fine man for you. Since I have been at Court, I have come to know Francis Knollys. He is kind and generous. He is loyal to the king and, unlike the other men here, he does not connive in dark corners or play sides. He came to the stables today and as I prepared his mount he could not cease talking about you. He told me that the king is waiting for Stafford to come back to Court to tell you. I realised then that we would have to stop our visits.”

I knew Stafford had gone to Cottered to help my mother move to Rochford Hall. My great-grandmother had died and she had finally received her inheritance. I had missed her since I left Calais and was looking forward to Stafford’s return because he would be bringing her with him. Now I knew why they would be making the journey to Court and I began to dread it.

I leaned forward and kissed his cheek, the rough stubble brushing my lips, soft and swollen from my crying, and then I pulled away from Richard, though everything in my heart begged me not to.

“I have to go,” I whispered. “I have been careless. If anyone found me my reputation would be in question.”

Richard nodded sadly.

The situation was hopeless. I tried to put on a brave face but I was dying inside. “This may be for the best. My love for you has made me reckless and I can’t bear to put you in danger. I must do as my father bids. I wish the best for you Richard, and I will always hold you in my heart.”

I turned from him and ran back into the castle without looking back. I knew that if I did not leave, I would lose my resolve and I cared too much for Richard to put him in danger. I slipped quietly back into my bedchamber. Nan was snoring softly across the room, Ursula’s arm was hanging off the side of her bed, but my own was empty. Where a sleeping Katherine should have been there was a pile of pillows. It seemed that I was not the only one of the queen’s ladies to be slipping out into the night. I put my shift back on and climbed under the quilted counterpane. I tried to fight back the tears but they came anyway and eventually I found release in sleep.

I spent the next few days in a haze. I went about my duties with all the other maids-of-honour, but my heart was not in it. Every evening that we ate in the great hall I scanned the faces, seeing if I could spot the man I was to marry. After three days of this, Nan Bassett elbowed me at the table.

“What is the matter with you?” she whispered, concern written all over her face.

“I will tell you later,” I murmured, straightening my posture and forcing a smile. I had to contain my sadness or I would be the subject of more rumours than my paternity.

Later that night, Nan and Katherine cornered me as I readied for bed.

“Catherine, are you all right?” asked Nan, arms crossed, foot tapping. “Why have you been acting so strange?”

“Where were you the other night?” asked Katherine quietly.

I yanked my muslin shift over my head. “I should ask you the same thing!” I shot back.

Nan looked from Katherine to me, her eyebrow raised.

“Oh, you know where she was,” Nan laughed. “She was with Culpeper.”

Katherine buried her face in a pillow and made a little whimper.

“See,” Nan said gesturing towards our bed.

I padded across the floor. Sitting next to Katherine, I put my hand on her shoulder. “Where were you really, Katherine?”

She raised her head, her hair cascading over her eyes. She raised her arm and brushed her golden curls from her face.

“I was with the king.”

The silence hung in the air. Suddenly, the focus was off me. Nan pounced on the bed like a panther on its prey.

“What are you doing?” she demanded. “Why were you with the king? What about Queen Anne? We are all going to lose our place!”

Katherine glared at Nan. “We are not going to lose our place. I have asked to have you as my ladies.”

Nan and I exchanged a confused look.

“Your ladies?” I asked

Katherine sighed, exasperated by our questions. “Yes! My ladies. When I am queen, you will be my ladies. I have requested it, he has agreed, simple.”

Nan sat up straight. “No, not simple. What is going to happen to Queen Anne?”

“The king and the lord secretary are working on that. If Cromwell gets him his divorce, he will make him an earl. I am sure that is incentive enough. She was already pre-contracted to the Duke of Lorraine anyway. At least, that is what the king says.” She gestured towards me, “You know how this goes. If the king is unhappy, he finds a new bride.”

“What about Master Culpeper?” I asked quietly.

I saw the pain in Katherine’s eyes and I sympathised. The king had taken choice from both of us. The burden I had been carrying suddenly lifted when I realised that I would be married to a man that Richard said was kind and compassionate instead of an old, ill-tempered king. Another Katherine would bear the burden of my father now.

“What can I do?” she moaned. “I must do as my king commands me. Uncle Norfolk is pleased beyond words. I could see the greedy look in his eyes when the king informed him of our impending marriage. The king made me come into the room with him to share the happy news when all I wanted to do was hide in shame. I love Queen Anne and I would never want to hurt her, but you know as well as I do that once the king decides he wants something he will do anything in his power to possess it. I cannot fight the inevitable.”

I did know that side of the king well. He had possessed both my mother and my aunt, and now he was after my cousin. In a way I found it ironic that he was drawn to Howard women, especially because the first two had caused him so much trouble. Katherine was right. All she could do was bend to his will and hope that she satisfied him.

For the moment, I was off the hook. Katherine’s revelations had shaken us all and my misbehaviour was forgotten. We quickly readied for bed and blew out the candles. Ursula, Dorothy and Mary would be back soon and we knew questions would be asked once they saw our emotional state.

A week later, my mother and Stafford arrived at Court. I was out in the garden with Nan choosing posies for the queen when I saw them through the hedge. I picked up my skirts and ran as fast as I could, trying to avoid the puddles of mud. Mother swept me into her arms and for the first time in years I was enveloped in a scent that was not lavender. I stepped back and looked her over. She had become plumper. Her cheeks were rosy and she was smiling.

“No more lavender?” I asked