Chapter 16
Francis could not get home for Christmas, so Lettice came to visit.
Her lively company compensated a little for not having him there to enjoy Hal’s first Yuletide, and evidently he too was miserable, for the court was gloomy, with the King making no effort to join in the half-hearted revels staged by his courtiers.
“He looks sad and has no inclination to feast with the ladies,” Francis reported.
“He is putting on more weight and looks very old and gray. We can only hope that his mood will lighten in time. As yet, no one knows what is to become of the Queen, who has been sent to Syon Abbey.”
Kate wondered how she would fare there, that bright little butterfly of a girl. What must it be like, waiting daily to learn if you were doomed or not? It must be unbearable.
Her thoughts were much with Elizabeth, who was surely aware of what was going on, and who must feel even more disturbed by it than Kate did.
Hopefully, Kat and Lady Troy were diverting her with Christmas pastimes and treats, and Kate would visit her when the weather was more settled, she promised herself.
—
Francis returned to Greys Court late in January. He kissed Kate as warmly as ever and swung Hal high in the air, marveling how he had grown, yet he seemed distracted.
“It’s this business of the Queen,” he said, as Kate helped him off with his boots. “Parliament is going to proceed against her with a Bill of Attainder.”
“What is that?” Kate asked.
“It means that they will look at all the evidence and, if they are satisfied that she is guilty, they will pass an Act of Attainder depriving her of her life and property.”
“What, without a trial?” Kate was horrified. “Surely she will be given a chance to defend herself?”
“No. There will be no trial.” Francis stretched his feet out toward the hearth. “Alas, I fear it will go ill for her. The reformist lords on the Council seem bent on destroying her.”
“No, they could not be so cruel!”
“We shall see. I cannot support them in this. But I don’t hold out much hope for her.”
—
When Francis had returned to court at the beginning of February, Kate decided to brave the weather and go to Hatfield.
Wrapped up warmly in a fur-lined cloak, she climbed into her litter, which was plumped with cushions and hot bricks folded in flannel, and waved goodbye to Hal, who was gazing solemnly at her from the arms of Mistress Wellgood.
Please don’t cry, Kate prayed inwardly. If you cry, I will not be able to go.
But Hal didn’t. He suddenly waved back. The litter trundled away.
Elizabeth was ecstatic when Kate arrived. “Oh, I am so pleased to see you, Cousin!” she cried, dancing across the courtyard.
“She’s been watching out for you all day,” Kat said, disengaging the girl’s fingers and embracing Kate herself.
“Well, I am pleased to see you both, and you, Lady Troy,” Kate said, as the older woman came hurrying over.
Supper was waiting for them in the parlor: a rich, steaming dish of beef, fluffy dumplings, crusty bread, and a flagon of ale.
They spoke of the weather, of Elizabeth’s remarkable progress at her lessons, of Hal’s sweet antics, and of domestic matters.
The Queen was not mentioned. Elizabeth was cheerful.
After the meal, she raced away to fetch her lute, so that she could play a song she had learned for Kate.
As soon as she was gone, Kate turned to the other ladies. “Does she know? About the Queen, I mean.”
“Yes, she does,” Lady Troy said heavily.
“I sat her down and told her,” added Kat.
“And of course I had to explain certain delicate things to her, things I would rather have told her about when she was older. She took it quite well, considering, and she asked if the Queen would be executed. I had to say that I did not know. God knows how she will take it if that happens.”
“We will meet that when we come to it,” Lady Troy said. “Thank Heaven you are here, Kate. It will be a welcome distraction.”
“I’m glad I came,” Kate told them. “I was only planning to stay for a couple of days because this is the first time I’ve been apart from Hal, but I’m sure he will do well enough without me, so I could stay a little longer, if that would help.”
“Oh, it would, if you don’t mind!” Lady Troy was visibly relieved. “We all feel as if a storm is threatening.”
“Then I will send word to Greys Court tonight,” Kate promised. “But first, I think the Lady Elizabeth is coming back. We must listen to her playing.”
—
Later that evening, Kate sat at Elizabeth’s bedside, relating the story of Rumpelstiltskin, an old favorite of hers. When she had finished, she expected the child to ask for another tale to put off the evil moment when she must go to sleep, but instead she gave Kate a searching look.
“I know about the Queen,” she said. “Kat told me. She said she was in disgrace because she behaved very wickedly. She was unfaithful to my father with two gentlemen.” She frowned.
“She told me what being unfaithful meant, that a man puts his crest in a woman, but he’s only supposed to do it when he’s married, and it’s wrong to do it to a lady who isn’t his wife.
Is that really true—I mean, that he puts the crest in? ”
Kate was blushing. “Yes, sweeting. It’s what married people do. And it’s wrong to do it with anyone else.”
“It sounds horrid,” Elizabeth pronounced. “I wouldn’t do it, even if I was married!”
Kate tried not to smile, despite the seriousness of the moment. “We must remember that nothing has been proved against the Queen. She may be innocent.”
“But if she isn’t, they might cut off her head.” Elizabeth looked distressed. “Like they did to my mother.”
“I hope not,” Kate soothed. “We must pray for her daily. Now, shall we have another story?”
—
The next few days were tense and anxious. Elizabeth was restless and on edge. Every time she heard a horseman approaching the house, she ran to the window.
“I don’t want it to be a royal messenger,” she said.
“Does she know about the Bill of Attainder?” Kate whispered to Kat.
“No. Only that the Queen is under house arrest. I am praying that it won’t be bad news.”
Kate turned away. She was almost certain that it would be.
—
The messenger arrived late one evening when Elizabeth was fast asleep. Lady Troy left the parlor to receive him and returned with a grave face. There was no need to ask her what news he had brought.
Kate hurried away to bed, seized with grief for the vital young woman who had been cruelly slaughtered, and white-hot anger against the devil who had sanctioned it.
She had little sympathy to spare for Lady Rochford, who had suffered on the same scaffold, yet still she found what had been done to her appalling.
The dread tidings had revived terrible memories of the events of 1536, and she could imagine only too well what had happened in the Tower.
She could not sleep for thinking of the blade descending on that pretty neck, severing life—and the blood gushing.
She still could not get that horrific image out of her head.
And now, thanks to that unspeakable monster, she was being forced to relive the most terrible days of her life.
She wished he were dead. Beheading would be too good for him.
In the morning, tired and drawn, she went to the schoolroom, where Elizabeth was seated at a table by the fire, doing writing exercises, her quill pen scratching across the paper.
Kat was seated at her desk, writing. They both looked up and greeted her but seemed subdued.
Kate wondered if Kat had broken the news to Elizabeth.
She caught her eye, and Kat gave an almost imperceptible shake of her head.
Kate hesitated, then took a deep breath.
“I fear I must give you some grave news, Elizabeth,” she said.
Elizabeth looked up. Her pointed little face was questioning, apprehensive.
“The Queen was beheaded yesterday morning,” Kate said quietly. “She had been found guilty of treason by Parliament.”
Elizabeth shuddered, then stood up suddenly, covered her mouth with her hands and fled to the privy in the corner, where Kate could hear her retching. Kat ran in after her.
“Hush, hinny,” she soothed, holding her tightly and steering her back into the schoolroom.
Elizabeth tried to push her away, but then fell on Kat’s shoulder, howling.
And as she held the sobbing, shaking child, Kat too broke down and wept.
Kate just stood there, numb. Had that butcher not given any thought to how this awful news might affect his daughter?
How could he do this to her? Was it not his part to protect her?
Anger flared again and she balled her fists, wishing she could give him a piece of her mind.
In the days that followed, they sought to divert Elizabeth from morbid thoughts of death with merry stories, games of hide-and-seek, and even a snowball fight when the snow came.
They toasted muffins by the fire, played skittles in the gallery, and sang songs, with Elizabeth picking out the tunes on her lute or her virginals.
But they were not entirely successful. One day, when Kat had finished reading a story that ended with a beautiful princess marrying a handsome prince, the child stood up and declared, “I’m never going to get married! ”
“Nonsense!” Kat said. “Of course you will.”
“I will never!” Elizabeth insisted.
“We’ll see about that when you get older.” Kat smiled.
—
Soon after her return to Greys Court, Kate realized that she was with child again. It was too soon, she felt, but it was inevitably a woman’s lot. Francis was thrilled, though, at the prospect of an addition to their family.