Chapter 19 #2
But he was not home for long. All too soon, he had to return to his duties at court.
Kate moped around the house, feeling bereft and wondering if their married life was always going to be a series of long separations.
She hated Francis being away, hated not being able to share the important little things with him, like the children’s developments and life’s everyday pleasures; and she hated sleeping in an empty bed.
At night, she had to ward off dark memories and an irrational fear that this time, giving birth would hold more perils than it had before, something she had kept to herself, not wanting to worry him when he could not be with her.
By day, she kept busy, ordering her household.
She was twenty now, and something of an expert.
Bilkins deferred to her, while she relied on him to keep things running smoothly.
She set high standards: the house must always be looking its best in case unexpected visitors arrived—and because she liked to live in a clean and tidy environment.
Mistress Wellgood agreed; she had the children in a comfortable but firm routine, and they were thriving on it.
Francis sent good news. The King had appointed him Master of the Horse to Prince Edward, who turned seven that October and was already a competent rider.
It was a position of high trust, demonstrating Henry’s confidence in him.
Kate was proud of her husband—but alas, his new duties kept him away from home for even longer periods.
The King invited Kate to court for Christmas, but she was able to excuse herself by pleading the weariness of pregnancy, knowing that he, of all people, well understood the need for a woman to look after herself at such a time.
But Francis had no such excuse: he had to be there, so Kate and Lettice did their best to make the season a merry one for the children.
There were games and sweetmeats, and great excitement when a band of mummers put on a play of St. George in the Base Court.
Wrapped in furs, their cheeks rosy in the cold air, Hal and Mary jumped up and down and laughed uproariously at their antics, and even one-year-old Lettice joined in, though she was far too young to appreciate the humor.
Despite Francis’s absence, it was a good Christmas.
—
Mother Ash predicted that Kate’s baby would be born in the middle of March 1545, and the King graciously granted Francis leave to come home. It was wonderful to have him with her as she neared her time, and she cherished the evenings they spent together in front of the fire in the solar.
On his second night home, they dined there. Francis seemed pensive.
“Something odd happened just before I left court,” he said.
“I was on guard in the watching chamber when I heard screams coming from the Queen’s apartments.
Then one of the King’s physicians came hurrying past and went through to the privy chamber.
Next thing we knew, his Grace himself appeared, leaning on the doctor’s arm, and was helped to the gallery.
After the doors closed behind them, I saw no more, but in a while the screaming stopped.
The next day, I was attending the King when he and the Queen were walking in his privy garden.
Suddenly, the Lord Chancellor appeared with a detachment of soldiers, and I was amazed to hear him say that he had come to arrest her Grace.
But the King began shouting at him to go away.
I have never seen a man look so terrified. ”
“What was it all about?” Kate wondered.
“I think the two incidents were related. Probably the Queen had offended in some way but had managed to obtain the King’s forgiveness. Someone, however, forgot to rescind the order for her arrest.”
“What a knife-edge she must live on. I wonder what she did wrong.”
Francis lowered his voice. “There have been rumors that she and her ladies have secretly converted to the Protestant faith. Her close friend the Duchess of Suffolk is said to be particularly hot for it, if gossip is to be believed. There’s talk that her lodging has been searched for forbidden books.
” His mouth set in a grim line. “It’s the Catholic conservatives at court who are driving this persecution—chiefly the Lord Chancellor and Dr. Gardiner, the Bishop of Winchester.
I’ll wager that they are behind this plot to bring down the Queen, so that they can push another good little Catholic girl into the King’s path.
I’m glad they were foiled—if it was them. ”
Kate shivered. “It’s frightening, the lengths some people will go to. They’re ruthless. But to target the Queen? Francis, be careful. You dare not put a foot wrong.”
“Oh, I am careful, never you worry.” He took her hand.
“I keep no books with me, I go to Mass with everyone else, and I take care not to let slip anything that might give me away. I hold my faith in my heart. God knows the truth of it.” He paused and regarded her gravely.
“Kate, have you ever considered converting?”
She froze. “No—although since my mother died, I have sometimes thought about it. If things were different, I would want to find out more, but I am too fearful of the consequences.”
“I understand. Growing up in the Boleyn family, you must have heard much about the need for religious reform.”
“They were all ardent reformists, but I was ten when I left Hever, and too young for anyone to discuss reform with me, although I overheard conversations. And looking back, they were actually devout Catholics. Will said they wanted the Church reformed from within. It was he who embraced the Protestant faith. Mother followed him, as I would look to follow you if the times were not so dangerous.”
Francis was silent for a moment, sipping his wine.
He leaned forward and whispered in Kate’s ear.
“This is treason, and I shouldn’t say it, but I know that I can trust you.
The King cannot live long. He is old before his time and infirm.
The Prince is being educated by Cambridge men, reformists all—and more than that, I’ll wager—and he, being young, will be susceptible to their teachings.
The reformist party at court is growing stronger, which is why the Catholic faction is acting so viciously.
Queen Jane’s brother, Lord Hertford, is in high favor, and he is zealous for reform.
In my view, England will turn Protestant when the King dies.
And then, dear heart, I shall instruct you in the true faith. ”
Kate kissed him. “I should like that. Forgive me for being faint-hearted now. And be assured that what you say to me in this room stays in this room.”
—
Their child was born a week later. It was another fine, healthy boy, and they named him William, for Francis’s late father and Will Stafford.
“It’s a shame Will cannot be here for the baptism,” Kate said, lying in bed with her son in her arms, as Francis gazed proudly at them. Will was now serving in Scotland with Lord Hertford’s army.
“He’s likely to be away for some time.” Francis sighed.
“This war has been going on for too long,” Kate complained, kissing little William’s downy head.
“That is because the King will not give up on his determination to wed the young Queen of Scots to Prince Edward and bring Scotland under English rule. The Scots, of course, don’t like it—and they are suffering for their defiance.
Hertford has laid waste much of the south.
But they have fought back. After they won that great battle last month, some have been saying that the King has no hope now of winning Scotland.
Yet he will not withdraw. He expects Hertford to reverse our losses. ”
“Why can’t each ruler be content with his own?” Kate wondered.
Francis shook his head. “Oh, my little pacifist—how na?ve you are. Kings, like other men, are territorial. The more they have, the more they want, and the monarchs of England have long wanted to lay hold of Scotland. To his Grace, this is a God-sent opportunity.”
Kate sighed. “I hope you won’t have to go to war again.”
He hesitated. “I hope not, too.” She knew he was just saying it for her sake. She had seen how the siege of Boulogne had affected him, seen the gleam in his eye and the spur to his manhood. If the call to arms came, he would go gladly, she knew it.
—
Kate read the letter avidly. She had not seen her brother, Harry, for years.
He was twenty now, and a stranger to her, for they had been parted in childhood and had led separate lives since.
She had done her best to keep in touch, but Harry was not a good letter writer and there were long gaps in communication, so she was pleased when he wrote to her that spring to tell her that the King had found him a wife.
Her name was Anne Morgan, she was sixteen years old, and her father was a Welsh knight.
Kate and Francis were invited to the wedding, which was to take place at court on 21 May.
Francis wrote to say that he couldn’t attend, breaking the news that he was shortly to go to Scotland and serve Lord Hertford.
He urged Kate to represent them both, but she told him she was still adjusting to new motherhood and did not want to leave baby William.
In truth, she shrank from the prospect of going to court and encountering the King, much as she wanted to see her brother married.