Chapter 9
No one knew when the King would return, so the Lord Chamberlain announced that the New Year’s Day revels would proceed as planned without him. Kate spent much of the day with Elizabeth and Kat, kneeling before the fire and labeling the gifts they would distribute that night.
It was late in the afternoon, and already dark outside, when Elizabeth clapped her hand to her mouth. “I forgot! I promised the Lady Mary that I would join her in chapel for Vespers,” she exclaimed.
“Don’t worry,” said Kat, looking at the clock.
“If we hasten now, we won’t be late.” She fetched Elizabeth’s cloak and gloves, helped her to put them on, then escorted her down to the courtyard.
Kate watched them from the window as they hurried over to the chapel opposite.
Then she heard shouts from the direction of the river.
She ran to the Thames side of the palace and looked out.
The royal barge was moored at the jetty and the King was alighting.
Kate peered through the latticed panes to get a view of the new Queen, but she was nowhere to be seen.
Instead, she could tell from the King’s thunderous expression that he was not a happy bridegroom.
Cromwell was hastening to the landing stage. Kate saw his smile falter and die. Holding her breath, she silently eased the window open so that she could hear what they were saying.
Henry glared at his chief minister. “We missed you on our return, Master Secretary,” he rapped, in a voice that must have carried across the river.
“I crave your Majesty’s pardon,” Cromwell answered smoothly. “I was preparing for the feast. I was unaware until a few moments ago that your Majesty had returned.” He must have raced like the wind to the jetty, Kate realized.
“We returned, Master Secretary, because there was nothing to stay in Rochester for.” The King’s voice was icy.
“Was the Queen not there?” asked Cromwell.
“Oh, she was there, Master Secretary, she was there.”
“That is a relief, Sire,” babbled Cromwell. “And how does your Majesty like the Queen?”
His master leaned forward menacingly. “I like her not. I like her not! She is not so attractive as you and others described, not at all! And if I had known as much before as I know now, she would never have come into this realm!” He looked like a lion about to pounce on its prey.
“What remedy, Master Cromwell? What remedy?”
Cromwell looked winded. “Sire, the contract has been signed and agreed. There might be difficulties…” Looking at his master’s face, he added quickly, “But I will look at it carefully and see if there is a way out.”
“You had better find one,” said the King. “You got me into this pass, and you are going to get me out of it!”
Cromwell scuttled off like a whipped cur and the King, glowering, stumped off toward his apartments.
He was still frowning that evening when he arrived for the feast and spoke a few terse words to Cromwell, who was waiting nervously by the door.
He sat down heavily in his chair of estate on the dais, enormous in his jeweled doublet, a feathered hat perched on his balding, graying head, quite obviously fuming as his narrow eyes raked over his courtiers.
The presence chamber was quiet; instead of the usual hum of conversation, there were muffled coughs, a few sniffs and stifled whispers.
Elizabeth, sitting at the end of the high table, was looking at her father with a puzzled expression.
Sitting some way away, between Mary Norris and Katheryn Howard, Kate wondered where the new Queen was. If the King didn’t like her, would he send her home? She was hoping he would, because then she could leave court and go back to Hatfield with Elizabeth.
The King nodded at the minstrels. They began to play, and the courtiers resumed their conversations in a subdued fashion.
Elizabeth started to fidget. She would be wanting the dancing to begin.
Kate felt sorry for her, because this was not the happy revelry she had anticipated, and now she might not be getting a new stepmother after all.
Kate wondered what it was about the Queen that had so angered the King.
Poor woman, she could have no idea of what lay ahead for her.
She resolved to be kind to her and remember that she was a stranger in a strange land—and that she would have to share a bed with that horror.
—
The next morning, as the court prepared to move to Greenwich for the coming royal wedding, Mrs. Stonor summoned the maids to the Queen’s presence chamber.
“You must make ready for a journey,” she told them.
“You are to travel down to Dartford to greet your new mistress, and then you will ride with her to Shooter’s Hill at Blackheath, where she will formally be welcomed to England.
You will wear the crimson velvet gowns you have been given and take warm cloaks and gloves. And I want not a hair out of place!”
Kate and the others hurried to change, lacing each other into the sumptuous gowns and donning the French hoods with pearl trims that matched the biliments on their necklines.
Then they packed changes of body linen and fresh clothing into a chest and hastened down to the courtyard where the chariot that was to take them to Dartford was waiting.
Nearby stood richer chariots, into which the ladies-in-waiting were clambering.
Kate shrank back when she saw Lady Rochford, for she wanted nothing to do with her.
But the chief lady-of-honor, the King’s beautiful, auburn-haired niece, Lady Margaret Douglas, threw the maids a smile to warm the chill of the day.
Norfolk’s daughter, the Duchess of Richmond, widow of the King’s bastard son, nodded amiably at them, although the smile inexplicably faded when her eyes rested on Kate.
Doubtless Norfolk’s antipathy toward Mother had rubbed off on her.
Katheryn Howard had brought a hot brick wrapped in flannel to warm her feet during the journey. “How far is it?” she asked Mrs. Stonor, as they settled themselves on the cushioned seats.
“Less than twenty miles,” the Mistress of the Maids replied. “We’ll be there by nightfall.”
—
Their accommodation in Dartford was an abandoned priory that had been closed by the King last year.
“His Grace is going to have it demolished,” Mrs. Stonor informed them.
“He intends to build a fine palace here, as a stopping place on the road to Dover.” As Kate alighted, feeling stiff and chilled to the marrow, she saw a traceried cloister with a great church still standing beyond the gatehouse.
Dartford, she had learned, had been a great nunnery in its day.
She felt a pang for the sisters who had been cast out, forced to go back into the world and fend for themselves.
And they were by no means alone. Nearly every abbey and priory in England had been closed down in the past four years. Very few remained.
They were accommodated in the nuns’ former guesthouse, which had been made comfortable with tapestries, cushions, and feather beds. A hearty stew was served to them at supper, followed by a delicious junket. Then they all fell into their beds, aware that they had an early start on the morrow.
Kate lay awake wondering if her mother and Will would be in the Queen’s train tomorrow. She was excited at the prospect of seeing them, and praying that her duties would allow her an opportunity for a private reunion.
She fell asleep with a smile on her lips.
—
Buffeted by icy winds, Kate waited outside the town of Dartford with the ladies-in-waiting.
At last, they saw the Queen approaching in a magnificent golden chariot, attended by a long train of foreigners in strange attire.
There was no sign of Mother or Will, but it was like looking for needles in a haystack.
When Uncle Norfolk, as premier peer of the realm, presented to the Queen the chief officers of her household, Kate saw that she was not pretty.
Her face was pleasant, however, and she had a warm smile, although her hair was hidden under a hideous bejeweled headdress.
She looked as if she was trying hard to make a good impression.
But her gown was outlandish! It had no train, just a round skirt, which would never do at court.
The Archbishop of Canterbury and the Duke of Suffolk were now presenting the ladies and maids-of-honor.
As each approached to kiss her hand, they curtseyed deeply.
When it was Kate’s turn, she finally understood exactly why the King was not pleased with his bride, for as she bent to press her lips to Anna’s extended fingers, she caught a whiff of a nasty stench, like unwashed linen and monthly clouts. It was all she could do not to recoil.
“These ladies will be waiting permanently on your Grace,” she heard Norfolk inform Anna as he led her through the priory gatehouse to her lodging. “For the time being, they will serve alongside your German and Flemish attendants.”
Kate followed with the other maids. Once Anna reached her lodging, she dismissed them, saying that she wished to rest and that her German ladies could attend her.
Kate was glad of the chance to slip away.
She ran down to the cloister, where members of the Queen’s retinue were milling about, seeking their accommodation, and it was there that she ran into Mother.
“Kate!” she exclaimed joyfully, throwing her arms around her, then drawing back to look at her face. “My, my, how you have grown up! When I left, you were a little girl of nine, and now you are a young woman, and a very comely one!”