Chapter 8
In March, Kate received another letter from Calais.
It was from her mother, informing her that Grandfather was dead.
She knew she should have felt sorrow, yet her overwhelming reaction was one of relief, that she would never have to see that horrid old man again.
She had felt a similar lack of grief at Grandmother’s passing the previous year, except that her main response then had been one of indifference.
Mother didn’t seem too sad either, although she was unhappy at the prospect of losing Hever, which had become Crown property.
Yet the King had been persuaded to allow Great-Grandmother to live out her days there, which Mother stressed was very magnanimous of him.
And we’re supposed to be grateful, Kate thought bitterly, donning a black dress that she intended to wear for just a week in deference to convention.
—
From that spring onward, Elizabeth’s household was abuzz with talk of the King’s coming marriage to the Princess of Cleves.
Elizabeth herself was excited at the prospect of a new stepmother, whom she imagined would send her lots of toys and pretty dresses and invite her often to court, which she clearly regarded as a magical place.
But it was Kate who, to her own astonishment, was to go there.
In November, she received from Lord Sandys, the Lord Chamberlain, a summons to Whitehall Palace, informing her that she had been appointed to serve the new Queen as a maid-of-honor.
She could hardly believe it. Such positions were notoriously hard to come by—Lady Bryan had once said that there was always furious competition for them, and that it was necessary to have a powerful patron to secure one for you.
“So why me?” she asked Kat, as they sorted through her clothes, choosing items that were suitable as court dress.
“Maybe Lady Bryan recommended you,” Kat suggested. “Or your great-uncle, the Duke of Norfolk.”
“That’s hardly likely. He’s never taken any notice of me, and he had no time for my mother.
Besides, he’s done his best to distance himself from the Boleyns since Queen Anne fell.
” Kate slumped down on the bed, a fine lawn smock in her hands.
“I don’t want to go to court, Kat. I like being here with Elizabeth. ”
“Nonsense!” Kat retorted. “The court is the way to preferment. In your case, a good marriage. The new Queen will help you to find a husband.”
“But…Oh, I can’t explain it, Kat, but I think of the court as a threatening place where bad things can happen. My mother says that it’s full of backbiters and self-seekers who wouldn’t hesitate to destroy anyone in their path.”
Kat made a face. “That’s a rather pessimistic view. I hardly think that a young maid like you is going to attract those types. Now be grateful for your good luck. You’re going to enjoy yourself. Think of all those handsome young gallants who’ll be courting you!”
“They won’t when they find that I have no dowry.” Despite her good intentions, Mother’s annuity had been spent on the necessities that Grandfather had refused to supply, and it had abruptly ceased when she married Will Stafford.
“But you are high in royal favor—you serve Elizabeth.”
“Is that enough?” Kate wondered. She stood up and peered into her mirror.
As usual, her soft, rosy face with full lips, a straight nose, and winged brows stared back at her.
Yes, she was pretty, she thought, with her wavy red hair—so like Elizabeth’s—and a graceful figure, but would men find her attractive without a dowry?
“I just don’t want to leave Elizabeth,” she said, turning back to Kat. “I love her, and I know she will miss me. She’s already lost Lady Bryan.”
“I will look after her,” Kat promised.
Elizabeth was most put out when Kate gently broke the news that she was leaving to serve the new Queen, and stamped her little foot. “But I want you here!”
“Now then!” Kat admonished. “You should be happy for Kate’s good fortune, my lady. And if you’re very good, you will be going to court too for Christmas—and you will see Kate there and meet the Queen.”
Elizabeth perked up instantly. “And can I wear my green velvet cloak and my dress with the pearls on?”
“Of course,” Kat said, as she exchanged smiles with Kate.
“I shall miss you, Kate,” Elizabeth said.
“But we can write to each other. You write beautiful letters.” At six, Elizabeth could already manage an elegant italic hand.
“And you’ll have me, poppet,” Kat said, bending down and hugging the child.
—
Saying goodbye was difficult. Elizabeth clung to Kate and had to be pried away, while Kate was in tears as she climbed into the litter in the courtyard at Hatfield.
“I’ll see you very soon!” she called as, with a jolt, the horses pulled it away.
She wished she were staying, for she was filled with trepidation at the thought of what lay ahead.
Would the new Queen like her? Would she give satisfaction?
And how could she stay out of the way of the wolves at court?
All too soon, her escort was telling her that they were approaching Whitehall.
Pulling aside the leather curtain, she watched as the guards let them through a crenellated gatehouse with checkered brickwork and an oriel window, which straddled the highway that ran parallel to the River Thames.
Adorning the gatehouse were royal emblems and terra-cotta busts of Roman emperors.
Beyond lay spacious gardens and orchards.
The palace itself was huge, its walls checkered in black and white.
When Kate alighted and an usher led her to the Queen’s apartments, her jaw dropped at the magnificence of the royal lodgings, which rambled around so many courtyards that she feared she would constantly be getting lost. All the state chambers had high bay windows overlooking the River Thames, ceilings exquisitely battened in gold and wainscots of carved wood representing a thousand beautiful figures.
The windows blazed with heraldic glass and the walls were hung with royal portraits, among them several of the King.
In the corner of the Queen’s spacious privy chamber arose a spiral stair, which led to a dorter in which there were six tester beds. A woman rose as Kate was ushered in. She was tall and dignified, with a manner that hinted she would brook no nonsense.
“Welcome, Mistress Carey. I am Mrs. Stonor, the Mother of the Maids, and I will be in charge of you young ladies. You may take this bed here”—she pointed to the one in the corner—“and stow away your gear in this chest. There’s a peg on the wall for your cloak.”
As they waited for Kate’s baggage to be brought up, Mrs. Stonor kept staring at her, making her feel uncomfortable. She felt she must break the silence.
“When does the Queen arrive?”
“She will be here before Christmas. She has a long journey from Cleves.”
Kate still had no idea where Cleves was.
“You will have little to do until she arrives,” Mrs. Stonor said, still scrutinizing her.
“Your fellow maids will be arriving soon, so I hope you will make friends. You can then enjoy the pleasures of the court, but I need not tell you that you must always have a care for your honor.” She paused.
“I served your aunt, Mistress Carey. I was with her in the Tower.”
“I was there, too, but I fear I do not remember you,” Kate told her.
She was remembering Anne saying that, up until her trial, they had set women about her she could never love—and now she could understand why, for she herself had not taken to Mrs. Stonor at all.
Anne had said that those women had spied on her.
She could well imagine Mrs. Stonor doing that.
“We do not speak of her at court,” that lady informed her. “Just be aware of that.”
Kate was wondering if people would look at her and realize that Anne had been her aunt. She hoped they wouldn’t, for she wanted to remain as anonymous as possible and not draw attention to herself.
She unpacked her things, longing to be back at Hatfield. With nothing to do here, the weeks of waiting were going to drag. She hoped to elude the forbidding Mrs. Stonor, yet feared that might be difficult. Oh, how she wished she had not been made to come to court.
A week later, she was still trying to find her way around the palace, but feeling more positive, for the five other maids-of-honor had arrived.
She liked blond, buxom Anne Bassett, whose comely face would attract attention anywhere.
Dorothy Bray was also beautiful, and even the somewhat older Ursula Stourton had a pretty face.
Kate was especially pleased to see Mary Norris, who had been with her all through those dreadful days in the Tower.
The one maid she disliked was one of her cousins, Norfolk’s niece, Katheryn Howard, who had a pert manner and a tinkling laugh.
She seemed too bold for her own good and flirted merrily with the young gentlemen of the court.
All the maids got their fair share of attention, though, and Kate was pursued by two weak-chinned gallants who seemed to think they were God’s gift to womankind, but she became adept at avoiding them.
At fifteen, she was secretly longing for a comely young man to pay court to her, yet there had been few opportunities while serving Elizabeth.
There had been no offer for her hand, and since Grandfather’s death, neither was there anyone left to find a husband for her, for Mother was still in Calais.
Yet somewhere at court there might be some gentleman who found her pleasing and would be ready to make suit to her.
With this hope in her heart, her days passed in card playing, music making, archery, practicing dance steps, and laughing and giggling with the other girls. Soon, she began to realize that she was enjoying herself.