The Rose Without a Thorn (19 page)

The King smiled broadly. “Of a surety you may,” he said, turning that smile on me.

“Your Majesty was kind enough to commend her for her singing. Your Majesty may remember the occasion. My niece was overwhelmed.”

“Now, let me think,” said the King, his eyes twinkling. “Sing, did you say? Ah, I recall the lady.”

“Your Majesty was most gracious.”

“The grace was not mine,” said the King. “Rather that of the young lady. Sit beside me, Mistress Howard. I would speak with you for a while.”

He waved his hand to dismiss my uncle, who bowed and moved away.

Then the King talked to me, asking me questions which he had asked before. Did I like living at the Court? It must be different from what I had done before—and so on.

On this occasion I was less shy. In fact, the King was so friendly that I forgot that he was the King. I am afraid I laughed rather immoderately until I remembered who he was and curbed it.

He realized this and, taking my hand, patted it gently. I was fascinated by those fat, glittering fingers, and could not take my eyes from them.

“You must not be afraid of me,” he said gently. “You are a good girl, Mistress Howard. I know that well. I like young ladies to be modest and virtuous. Such gifts are rare, and especially so in surroundings such as these. You are newly come and know nothing of this, so, prithee, Mistress Howard, do not adopt too many of the habits of my Court.”

His mouth fascinated me. It was so small and seemed particularly so because his face was so big. Such a thin straight line of a mouth. Such little eyes that seemed to peer forth from all that flesh. When I had seen him at first, I had thought it was a cruel face. It was quite different when he talked to me. There seemed something young about it now—almost like a baby’s. And then, talking about the morals of his Court, it was almost prim and definitely disapproving.

He noticed how I looked at him, for he said: “You study me, Mistress Howard. What do you think, eh? What do you think of your King?”

I was unsure how to reply and I stammered: “I think Your Majesty is very kind to me.”

He looked pleased and a great sense of relief swept over me because I must have found the right answer to this difficult question.

“To those who serve me well, I can be very kind.” He was smiling now and there was something very soft and sentimental about his face. I was amazed by the speed with which it could change. Now there was a glitter in his eyes and it was different again. It was a look which sent a shiver of alarm through me. I had seen it before, and suddenly I was thinking of Manox and Derham and my dear Thomas. The King was pressing my hand.

“I could be very kind to you, Mistress Howard,” he said.

“Your … Your Majesty is gracious.”

“And will be more … and will be more, I swear to you.”

He looked sentimental again, with that glazed expression in his eyes, and suddenly he said: “Tell me of your music. You play the lute, I know.”

I told him that I also played the virginals.

“You shall play for me,” he said. “I like much the virginals. We share this love of music, you and I.”

It grew increasingly easy to talk to him. I completely forgot he was the King. I pulled myself up sharply, putting my finger to my lips to prevent the informal words coming out, and he said to me: “What ails you, Mistress Katherine?”

I sought to explain. “Your Majesty is so gracious to me. I forgot you are … Your Majesty.”

That seemed to amuse him. His laughter boomed forth and everyone was looking our way.

For a moment I thought he might be angry, but his smile was more soft and sentimental than ever.

“I like that, Katherine,” he said. “I like it well.”

The Duchess asked me to visit her. This was not the command to which I was accustomed, more a request.

I sailed upriver in a barge which had been sent to take me from Greenwich to Lambeth.

She greeted me warmly.

“Ah, granddaughter,” she said, “you have become a success at Court.”

“I am not sure. But the King has spoken to me.”

“Spoken to you indeed! I heard he had you seated beside him and that you talked together. What could you have had to say to the King?”

“It was easy. I just talked. I forgot he was the King and I told him that.”

She looked at me in horror.

“It was all right,” I assured her. “I am not to be sent to the Tower.”

“Do not say such things … even in jest!” she cried, and I knew she was thinking of my cousin.

“Oh, it mattered not.”

“And it was at the Bishop’s residence that this happened?”

I nodded.

“Stephen Gardiner does not forget his allegiance to your uncle. That is as it should be, for where would Gardiner be without His Grace? He came up from nothing … his father a clothworker, was it? Something such. And if your uncle had not brought him to the attention of Wolsey … poor Wolsey. These people … they come and go. Wolsey … Cromwell … who next? We have to walk through life with the greatest care … those of us who live near the crown. It is well to remember that. So, it was at Gardiner’s place … and your uncle was there … and you did not know that you should meet the King.”

“No … no one knew. The King came without telling them that he would.”

She gave me a slightly supercilious smile.

“And the King paid attention to you … had you sit beside him? He talked to you and you forgot he was the King and he liked that. Is that all?”

“What else should there be?”

“I was asking you. Ah, I think I hear sounds of arrival. It will be the Duke himself.”

The Duke saluted his stepmother and acknowledged me with a nod.

“Katherine is here, as you see,” said the Duchess.

He turned to me then and I recognized the speculation in his eyes as he looked at me: there was a certain interest there which had never come my way before.

“You stand well with the King,” he said. “It is good that you have pleased him.”

“I have done as you asked,” put in my grandmother. “She shall not be short of a gown or the occasional trinket. The seamstresses are here now. They are waiting to fit her as it is necessary.”

The Duke was actually smiling at me. “I doubt not that you are eager to try these new gowns, and I’ll warrant you are as fond of finery as most girls are, eh?”

“Yes, Your Grace.”

He glanced at my grandmother, who nodded.

“Then go, child,” she said. “Try the blue velvet. They used one of your old gowns for size. It should fit. There are some beautiful materials and the colors should become you well. Let me see how you look in the blue velvet.”

I was always glad to get away when my uncle was present. Moreover, the prospect of clothes always excited me.

How they had changed toward me! The King’s attention had done this. I felt a warm glow of gratitude toward him. I was beginning to lose my awe of him. He had been so friendly, and he had shown clearly that he did not think me in the least stupid—or, if he did, he liked it. I was as a young girl should be, he implied.

I gasped with pleasure at the materials when I saw them. I may not have had much book-learning, but I did know something about clothes. I held up the material against me and the two seamstresses cried out in delight.

“Oh, how that scarlet becomes you, Mistress Howard! I think we should make it with the flowing sleeves.”

The flowing sleeves were a fashion which had been introduced to the Court by Anne Boleyn, because she had a deformity on the finger and the full sleeves helped to hide it. They were graceful and becoming and were still in fashion.

I examined the materials and we talked of styles. I tried on the blue dress. The bodice had a square-cut neck and the skirt hung open in the front to disclose a beautifully embroidered kirtle decorated with a tracing of silver thread. The women hovered round me, straightening the skirt and patting the material here and there.

“Ah, but you are beautiful in that gown, Mistress Howard,” one of them said.

They stood together, looking at me in admiration—I suspected as much of their own work as of me.

I was delighted. So often I had seen the Court ladies in splendid gowns and wished they were mine. And now, it seemed, they were.

“The Duchess wishes me to show her this gown,” I said.

They nodded to each other. They had no doubt of her approval.

I went back to my grandmother’s apartments. As I opened the door to the little anteroom which led to her chamber, the sound of her voice and that of the Duke made me pause. They must have left the door of the chamber open, so I could hear distinctly and I realized that they were talking about me.

The Duchess was saying: “It is not easy to believe that this could be happening … to her.”

“He is in a strange mood at this time. The shock of the Queen’s arrival … the disappointment.”

“Our girl is exceedingly pretty … in a simple way, of course.”

“But witless.”

“That could be an advantage. Remember …”

“I remember well, madam, and need no reminder. That was a disaster. He turned against the family for a time.”

“But has been won back,” said my grandmother. “If indeed it did come to pass … oh, she is not like that other.
She
was bold and thought herself clever.”

“More clever than she was in truth,” retorted the Duke grimly.

“Oh … this could be of great good.”

“Gardiner will do his best.”

“So should he, when it is considered what good you have brought to him.”

“But we shall have to be watchful… of her. She is so untutored … young even of her years. But as yet it is merely an interest. His moods are less predictable than ever.”

“We can only wait…”

“Yes, and be watchful.”

There was a slight pause and I wondered whether they had become aware that I was in the anteroom. But, as they had been talking about me and their words were revealing, I was reluctant to go into the room and stop this interesting discussion.

I waited for a few more seconds and, as they had fallen into silence, I went into the room.

“Ah, here is the child,” said my grandmother. “Let me look at the gown. Marry, and it becomes you well. Think you not so, my lord?”

He nodded; and he was smiling to himself.

I thought a great deal about that conversation I had overheard. They were not the only ones who were excited by the King’s interest in me. I was myself. It was so unexpected, after having been ignored, to be treated with a certain degree of respect.

What made it so pleasant was that I could be natural and that was what the King liked about me. He, who was surrounded by the cleverest and most beautiful women at Court, had shown a preference for the society of little Katherine Howard—witless, as her uncle called her, without education and unable to converse amusingly. All she had to recommend her was a simple prettiness; she was small but slender with it; she had an air of helplessness, a look of innocence, which seemed to make the King want to be gentle with her.

That was what they were saying about me. I did not care. I was going to enjoy being in favor.

Soon after this, I met Thomas Culpepper in the gardens.

“There is much gossip about you and the King,” he said and he looked uneasy.

I laughed. “It is wondrous how people talk,” I said. “I sang and the King liked my song because it was his own. He spoke to me, then I went to the residence of the Bishop of Winchester and the King happened to be there, so he talked to me again. That is all. Is it so very important when the King talks to one of his subjects?”

“It would depend on the manner of the talk,” said Thomas.

“Oh, it was just … talk. He asked if I liked being at Court and I told him what it was like when I was a little girl in my father’s house, that he might judge the difference between that and the Court. Then we talked about music. He loves music. He was very kind.”

“Did it not strike you as strange that he should talk thus to you?”

“Of what else should we talk?”

Thomas looked at me in faint exasperation.

“You know you are very pretty, do you not?”

“I have heard it said,” I replied with some satisfaction.

“Has it not occurred to you that that was why the King spoke to you?”

“He is an old man,” I said.

Thomas’s exasperation increased.

I went on: “My uncle, the Duke, and my grandmother are very pleased. My uncle has never been so gracious to me as he is now.”

“I can well believe it,” said Thomas grimly. “Oh, I like it not.”

Then he put his arms round me and held me tightly.

“Katherine,” he said. “Never forget that you are betrothed to me.”

“We have not been … formally, but I do not forget it was to be. I often think of going away to Hollingbourne. That is what I long for.”

“It
shall
come to pass.”

“Oh yes. Perhaps soon.”

“They will not accept me now.”

“My grandmother talked of it once.”

“Perhaps it might have been possible … once. But now … not yet.”

“I am eighteen years old. I am no longer young.”

“It must be so, Katherine. It must be.”

“And it shall, Thomas. Be of good cheer. Why are you so downcast?”

“I am afraid, Katherine.”

“You must not be. I love you and you love me—and do not forget they once spoke of our betrothal.”

“That was before you came to Court.”

“It has not changed me.”

He kissed me sadly.

“No,” he said, “you have not changed. It is the world around you that has changed. Katherine, do not cease to love me. I should not wish to live if you did.”

“Thomas,” I assured him. “I shall always love you. No matter what, I am yours.”

A Royal Wooing