Chapter 27 #2
In the morning, they gathered together their children, all except the baby, Anne, and explained what was going to happen. They emphasized the danger and the necessity for maintaining discretion and showing fortitude.
“Mother is going to stay here with you until the baby is born, and then she will bring some of you to join me,” Francis told them.
“But you, Mary, Lettice, Will, and Ned, must stay here, as we cannot take you all. Rest assured that we will find good places for you. It will be no different from what would happen if things were normal; as you know, most gently born children are sent to noble households to learn manners and the skills that will befit them for their paths in life.”
Mary and Lettice were crying. The boys were biting their lips, trying to play the man. Beth and little Frank clung to Kate’s skirts, bewildered by what was going on.
“You will be well looked after,” Kate promised.
“I would not send you anywhere I deem unsuitable. And the rest of you will be going on an exciting journey.” Her voice shook as she said it.
“Now, we need you all to be brave and grown up for us. It may be that our parting and our sojourn abroad will not last long. I shall pray daily that we all will soon be reunited.”
“We will be brave for you, Mother,” Mary declared, drying her tears.
“Yes, we will!” the others chorused.
—
There was no time to waste. Francis packed up as much luggage as his sumpter mule could easily carry, and took enough money to live on until Kate joined him.
She was to bring the rest of the coin they had in their treasure chest, along with her jewelry and some plate, which they could sell if they needed to.
“When it is time, get the servants to crate everything up and take it ahead to Maldon,” he instructed.
“It is better to go across country and take ship from there, than to go through London to Dover. It will be a longer sea crossing, but there is far less chance of your departure being noticed. And take the plain horse litter, the one without our coat of arms.”
“Will I find a ship easily?” Kate asked, in deep trepidation because this coming voyage into the unknown seemed an immense undertaking.
“At Maldon? I am sure you will. And you can pay good money. That always helps.”
“I will settle our affairs here and then shut up the house,” Kate said, trying to stay practical in order to ward off her feelings of dread. They only had one more night together before Francis left. God only knew when they would lie together again.
When they finally retired to bed, she clung to him, wishing that she was not so great with child. She could feel it in her belly, moving between them.
“I wish we could be properly together,” she whispered, longing for him.
“There are more ways than one of being together,” he murmured, and began to stroke her breasts.
They began pleasuring each other, and when her climax came, her womb contracted so violently that she thought the babe would be expelled immediately.
But the feeling subsided. In its place came the dear, familiar rush of love for this man who was everything to her, and she held him tightly, not wanting the feeling ever to end.
—
In the morning, she stood by the mounting block as Francis climbed astride his horse and handed up to him the stirrup cup.
She had to summon all her self-control to keep the smile on her face and be brave for him; she did not want him taking away a memory of her weeping.
When he gazed down at her, she could see that he too was struggling to control his emotions.
There were tears in his eyes. But he raised a firm hand in farewell to the children and the assembled servants.
“God be with you all!” he cried. Then his gaze moved to Kate. “And with you, my dearest wife.”
As she watched him ride away, she thought she would die of misery.
—
There was so much to do that she had to concentrate on practicalities and was glad of the distraction.
The nights were the worst. She missed Francis desperately and felt very alone and vulnerable.
Any time soon, the authorities might get to hear of his departure.
She prayed he would take ship before that happened.
But what would become of her and the children if they descended on Greys Court and threw them all out—and she eight months gone with child?
She shivered at the thought, catching her breath at the possibility that she might be arrested for heresy.
It made her want to gather up her brood and flee now.
She fought against letting her imagination run riot. Probably, she told herself, she and Francis had overestimated the danger. But it was better to be safe than sorry.
She now faced the pressing task of finding places for the older children.
It went against all her instincts to send them away, yet she knew it must be done.
Gradually, the arrangements were made. Hal would reside at the university in the holidays; she had arranged that with his tutor.
Mary, Lettice, Will, and Ned were to stay with her brother, Harry, and his wife, who had children of much the same age.
Kate had invited Harry to Greys Court, and he had come to discuss the arrangements.
She was thankful that he’d brought Anne with him because she was warm and friendly, whereas he had become something of a martinet.
As for his language…Yet Kate knew that she could rely on him to care for her children.
He had at least spoken kindly to her of that.
It would break her heart to part with them all.
That Christmas was the saddest she had ever known, with Francis absent and no word yet from him, and the older children about to leave home.
His mother came to stay again, much to Kate’s comfort, but she seemed distracted and somehow diminished, which Kate put down to her anxiety about Francis and their uncertain future, which she was unable to hide.
Kate worried about what it was doing to her.
How she herself kept up a semblance of good cheer was beyond comprehension, but she did.
She owed it to her offspring to be strong.