Chapter 25 #3
The carter, who came every week with goods to sell, had heard in a tavern that the Lady Elizabeth had been taken from the Tower to Woodstock Palace, where she was now under house arrest.
“They can’t find nothing against her,” he announced, “but they be determined to keep her in prison. They’s frightened of her, mark my words.”
Kate thanked him and paid for her purchases, her mind spinning.
Elizabeth was in Oxfordshire—but she might as well have been on the moon.
Woodstock was thirty miles away; even if Kate attempted the journey, she knew, with a leaden heart, that she would not be allowed to see her.
Yet it was a blessed relief to know that she was no longer in the Tower—and was presumably out of danger.
She thought about trying to get a message to her, but could not devise a means.
In July, it was announced from the pulpit that the Queen had married Philip of Spain at Winchester Cathedral with great magnificence.
Philip was now king. As the weeks went by, Kate waited tensely to hear whether any new laws on religion had been passed.
She pumped the garrulous carter for news, but he told her that, as far as he knew, Parliament wasn’t sitting.
“Her’s been on her honeymoon,” he added wisely. “Not that he’ll have much joy of her, I’ll bet.” He gave a lascivious wink. “Them say the baker’s daughter in her gown be better’n Queen Mary without her crown!” He went away, cackling at his own wit.
—
On a sunny afternoon in September, Kate was playing Mother Bird with the children in the Base Court. They were all laughing, and in the rumble-tumble of the game, her hood had come off and her long red hair was flying free. She felt like a girl again, not a respectable married woman of thirty.
“Look, Mother, horsemen!” Mary cried, pointing into the distance.
Kate looked. There were four of them, riding up the hill toward the house. She looked again. It couldn’t be, could it? Heaven be praised, it was! Suddenly, she was gathering up her skirts and running full pelt to meet them.
“Francis! Francis, my darling! Hal, my boy!” she cried.
Francis reined in his horse and jumped from the saddle. “My beloved!” he breathed, crushing her to him in full view of everyone, for the servants had come running out of the house. “I have longed for this moment!” He kissed her heartily on the mouth.
“Oh, I have missed you,” she sobbed, when he had paused for air. Her eyes devoured his face, his dear face. He was here; she could not quite believe it. Never had she loved him so much. And he had not changed.
Unlike the tall boy who waited for her embrace. Hal had shot up; she could see the future man in him. With a cry, she pressed him to her heart. “My darling son!”
The children crowded around them, greeting their father. The nurse brought little Frank, now a chubby one-year-old with angelic looks.
“My, how you have grown!” Francis marveled. “Oh, it is good to see you all. It is wonderful to be home.”
He and Kate led the way into the house, where Bilkins bowed to his master. “Sir Francis, you will find all in order. Your good lady has seen to that.” Praise indeed!
Kate smiled at him. “Pray send to the kitchen to see if there are any cold cuts that can be served to my lord. And bring wine. We must drink a toast. We have much to celebrate!”
Over supper, which was served in the hall with the children, Dr. Palmer, the chaplain, and the upper servants present, Francis and Hal regaled everyone with tales of their travels.
Later, when they were alone in the solar, Francis spoke warmly to Kate of Calvin and the reformers they had met, and talked enthusiastically about the growing community of English Protestant exiles who had found a comfortable refuge in Geneva, thanks to the arrangements and accommodation that he and Calvin had put in place for them.
He had seen Will and Dot, and they were happily settled.
He made it sound like a little paradise.
“If need be, darling, we will go there,” he said. “We will be made welcome. But for now, all I want to do is take you to bed…”
—
The renewed passion between them bore fruit.
By Christmas, Kate knew that she was with child again.
Her joy was tempered with anxiety, for Francis had just learned from a friend at court that Cardinal Pole, the butchered Lady Salisbury’s son, had been appointed archbishop of Canterbury in place of the disgraced and deposed Archbishop Cranmer—and that he had received England back into the obedience of Rome.
The other news was that the Queen was with child.
There had been a thanksgiving service in St. Paul’s Cathedral for the quickening of it.
“None of this augurs well for us,” Francis said, sitting down on the bed beside Kate, who was resting for the afternoon to see if it might alleviate some of the nausea and fatigue she was suffering.
“Should we go abroad?” she asked nervously.
“I fear the time is coming when we might have seriously to consider it,” he replied.
“But how can I go feeling like this?” Kate asked plaintively. “I cannot ride in my condition, and I feel sick at the thought of a long journey in a jolting litter.”
“We need not leave just yet. Let us hope that if we do decide we have to, you will be feeling better. Let us pray it will not come to it.” His voice, Kate thought, lacked conviction.
When he had gone, she lay there fretting.
England was now officially Catholic and there was no place for Protestants.
If the Queen bore a son, nothing was likely to change for the foreseeable future.
Kate found herself almost hoping that Mary and her babe would not survive the birth, then pulled herself up quickly.
What was she thinking of? How could she wish that on another mother?
And on her own sister, at that? Even though she had never felt the connection to Mary that she had to Elizabeth, she was still conscious of the blood tie.
No, all she could do was pray that God would soften the Queen’s heart—or find a way for His chosen to worship as they thought best.
—
Kate was grateful that Francis had friends at court who could keep him informed of what was happening. At first, the news was a little encouraging.
“Things may not be as bad as we feared,” he declared, waving a letter at Kate as she sat at the table in the solar making a kissing ball out of evergreens to hang in the hall.
It would be Christmas in three weeks’ time, and the children were outside in the Base Court building a snowman.
Lettice, who had been longing to see Francis since his safe return from Geneva, was on her way to spend the season with them.
“I think the Queen has discovered that she cannot put the clock back in every respect. Saints’ days are no longer to be celebrated, and the monasteries will not reopen, which was a big sticking point for those who feared that a return to Rome might see them deprived of their property.
Chantries and shrines will remain closed, and so-called relics of the saints will not be put back into churches. ”
“I am pleased to hear it! I had thought that all that superstition and idolatry had been done away with.”
“Well, it seems that the Queen wants to focus on the spiritual values of her Church.”
“If only she could respect the spiritual values of ours!” Kate wove some red ribbon through the greenery.
“If only she could leave us alone!” Francis sighed. “That would be the best outcome.”
He watched her working and smiled. “I look forward to putting that to good use,” he said, kissing the top of her head. Then he sat down by the fire, leaving her with a beautiful warm feeling. If only things could continue this way. Life was so good, now that they were together.
“Let’s try to stay here in England for as long as we can,” she said.
“We will,” he agreed.
—
They had enjoyed three days of optimism when Francis received another letter. He came upstairs and broke the wax seal. Kate watched him reading, saw his face turn ashen.
“What is it?” she asked nervously. “Is something wrong?”
He looked at her, apparently unable to speak. When he did find his voice, it came out as a croak. “Parliament has revived the laws against heresy. It is clear that the Queen is determined to eradicate the Protestant religion.” He swallowed, as if his throat had closed up.
“Oh, my dearest, what shall we do?” Kate cried, bursting into tears.
“I wish I knew,” Francis muttered hoarsely.
“What does it say?”
“It is our worst fear. The Queen means to make an example of heretics to deter others from embracing their beliefs. King Philip is behind this, I am sure, and Cardinal Pole and Lord Chancellor Gardiner. The bishops have been given the power to investigate cases of suspected heresy, and the Church will hand over those found guilty to the secular authorities for burning. The property of a convicted heretic would then revert to the Crown.” His voice tailed away.
Kate felt sick. This could not be happening. Their children, themselves, this house, their lives together, all the dear, familiar things around them—and the little one who slept beneath her girdle: these could not be under threat, surely?
But they were, they were. She clung to Francis, weeping. “What shall we do? What shall we do?”
“We go on as normal,” he murmured, gentling her. “We go to Mass with everyone else, but we continue to have our own services in private.”
“What of the children? Little ones don’t know how to guard their tongues!”
Francis was silent for a moment. “Much as it grieves me to say it, I think we dare not risk them giving us away.”
“You mean we should exclude them from our private services and bring them up as Catholics?” Kate was a little shocked.
“It is safest that way. It is better than risking the penalty for heresy, darling. I am not sure I am of the stuff of which martyrs are made.” Francis’s voice shook.
Kate could not bear to think about what death by burning might be like.
It was too horrific to contemplate. “I know I am not,” she said, shuddering.
“I never thought that the Queen was a cruel person. I only met her a few times when I was younger, and she was kind. Everyone loved her. How could she have changed?”
“It may be that all those years of fighting for her Mass under King Edward hardened her heart. And we should not discount King Philip’s influence. She is said to be besotted with him.”
“And I thought she was a merciful princess,” Kate said bitterly.
Francis looked at the letter again, then turned it over. “No signature, and I don’t recognize the handwriting. The seal was plain. Whoever sent this wanted to be anonymous, and they wanted to warn us of the danger. I can only ask God to bless them for it.”
Kate caught at his sleeve. “Francis, if we are arrested, and they know that we are Protestants, can we save ourselves by recanting?”
“If we are sincere, yes. But if we lapse afterward, then there will be no second chance. Kate, let’s not torment ourselves with thoughts of being arrested.
We will make sure we are careful, so that we are never forced into the position where we have to recant.
Have faith, my darling. And if things look perilous, we will go abroad. ”
—
They put on brave faces for the children and made sure that Christmas was as merry as ever, for who knew where they would be celebrating it next year?
They took their family to church, attended Mass, and conformed to the new laws.
Once a week, in the darkness of night, they had the chaplain conduct a Protestant service for themselves alone.
The subterfuge took its toll on them, and both were racked with guilt at betraying their convictions.
They could only console themselves by saying, as their chaplain did, that God would understand.