Chapter 35
Greys Court slumbered in the September sunshine. Never had it looked more inviting than it did now, glimpsed from the window of the litter. Kate could feel herself unraveling, feel the peace seeping into her veins.
And here were her children racing to greet her, closely followed by nurses, tutors, Bilkins, and the rest of the servants, all delighted to see her, all eager to welcome the mistress home.
Gratefully, she sank down in Francis’s chair by the hearth in the hall.
“Bilkins, I will catch up with you on estate and household business tomorrow, when I have rested after my journey. For now, I would spend time with my young ones.” She beckoned them, and they clustered around her, nestling on the floor.
It was a pity that Hal, Will, Ned, and Robert were up at Oxford, Ned and Robert having only just entered Magdalen College School, but Richard, Frank, Anne, and Thomas were here, and the older three were plainly thrilled to see her.
It grieved her that little Thomas barely knew her.
They were growing up fast; she had missed vital periods of their lives, and her heart burned anew with anger against Elizabeth, who had kept her away from them so unkindly.
Anne was no longer a toddler, but a lively four-year-old, as boisterous as her brothers.
Kate wished that Mary, her sensible eldest daughter, were here.
At nearly seventeen, Mary was a young woman already and ripe for marriage and babies.
Kate made a mental note to ask Francis to think about finding a husband for her.
She wrote to the Duchess of Suffolk, asking if she could spare Mary to be her gossip during her confinement.
The Duchess kindly agreed, and it was Mary to whom Kate turned when it came to preparing for the birth.
The only other women at Greys Court were Thomasina and Mistress Bilkins, but Kate did not know her intimately.
It went against convention to have an unmarried girl as her gossip, but there was no one she would rather have had by her side.
The midwife she engaged raised an eyebrow, but Mary, dear, sweet child, was willing. “Anything for you, Mother,” she said.
—
As the days passed and the leaves turned gold, Kate kept a constant lookout for Francis.
He had written to say that he was coming home as soon as he could, which left her in a fever of impatience, not knowing when she would see him.
But he was as good as his word. When he strode into the hall, to find her discussing wages with Bilkins, Kate leaped to her feet, all ungainly as she was, and flung herself at him. “You came! You came!”
He looked slightly embarrassed at such a display of emotion in front of Bilkins, who hurriedly departed for his office, but then he hugged Kate warmly and kissed her.
“Indeed, I did! I told the Queen I had pressing business in Reading. She expects me back next week, but of course that business is going to be prolonged—and prolonged again—if necessary.” He kissed Kate again. “How are you, my darling?”
“I am well—all the better for seeing you—and the children will be overjoyed. They are at their lessons now, but when they finish—”
“Then we will not disturb them. I want you to myself for a little while.”
“If only I was not great with child…”
“Then you’d soon be great with another one,” he chuckled.
—
The babe came on 21 October, emerging into the world before Mary’s astonished eyes.
“A daughter!” the midwife announced, as the infant emitted outraged squawks. “She’s got good lungs on her!”
“Mary,” Kate said, elated to have her brief ordeal behind her, “go and fetch your father.”
“Madam!” cried the midwife, outraged. “Men have no place in a birthing chamber!” Obviously, the poor woman thought the world had gone mad—in this household at least.
“But I want to show him his daughter myself,” Kate declared.
Francis hurried into the room, ignoring the midwife’s dark looks, and gazed at the babe lying in the crook of Kate’s arm.
“She’s you to the life,” he said.
“I thought so, too,” she agreed. “She’s beautiful. And she gave me so little trouble. Mary was a wonder. She held my hand throughout.”
“Is that so?” he said, beaming at Mary. “Then, Daughter, you can choose a name for this little one.”
Mary smiled delightedly and thought for a moment. “I’d like to call her after you, Mother.”
“Then Catherine it is,” Francis agreed, “with a C, to differentiate the two. I couldn’t have chosen better myself!”
—
Kate had known that the domestic idyll would not last. Francis hung on at Greys Court for as long as he dared, but he could not stretch his absence until Kate’s churching. He stayed until he was satisfied that she was recovering well, then reluctantly set off for London, leaving her bereft.
Once she had been churched, she knew her time with her family was limited.
The children begged her to stay, and she did not know how she would bring herself to leave them, especially the tiny infant who tugged most closely at her heartstrings.
But the wet nurse and the rockers were engaged and in residence, and she could delay her departure no longer.
She felt she would die of misery as the litter carried her away.
Within a day of returning to court, she was bored sick with talk of the Queen’s marriage, which was still the chief topic of conversation—will she, won’t she, and if so, who?
Elizabeth was as enamored with Lord Robert as ever, and insisting that she was not contemplating marriage at present—although, she said, she might change her mind if the Archduke Charles came to England.
Kate was in attendance when Bishop de Quadra angrily pointed out that her Majesty had all but invited the Archduke for inspection and must therefore be serious about wedding him.
“Oh, but I only wish to meet him and get to know him in case I decide to marry at some future time,” Elizabeth replied airily.
De Quadra withdrew, simmering and puce in the face. “I have been made to look a fool,” he muttered to Kate and the other ladies. “I do not pretend to understand her Majesty.”
The ladies exchanged glances. They didn’t understand her either.
Foul slanders against the Queen were ever more rife, and not only at court.
“Our ambassadors abroad are shocked at what they hear,” Francis confided to Kate when they met at the serving hatch one evening to collect their “all-night” refreshments.
“They forbear to report the details for they are too offensive to be committed to paper. Of course, they say they know the rumors to be false, but they are unanimous in wishing for the Queen to be more discreet in her dealings with men and marry soon. To be honest, Kate, if she doesn’t, what hope is there for the succession? ”
“If Dudley were free, she might marry him.”
“Don’t be too sure of that.”
“Then why is she advancing him so generously? He is now Lord Lieutenant and Constable of Windsor Castle. He commandeers influential court posts for his friends and supporters.”
Francis led her out into the courtyard, where they could not be overheard.
“He is advancing himself, setting himself up as the champion of Protestantism. He would like to see England at the forefront of a religious revolution and a declared enemy of Spain. His views are too radical. Even I would not go so far. We should be thankful that he has no seat on the Council. Already he meddles too much in politics.”
“But Francis, many are courting his favor, for they believe he might one day be king. And I do not doubt that, whatever else he is, he is sincere in his beliefs.”
Francis did not look convinced, but he let the matter go. Raising a hand, he touched her cheek. “You look sad.”
“Can you blame me?” she responded bitterly. “I was dragged back here against my will. I hated leaving the children, especially baby Catherine. I hardly had time to get to know her. I long to hold her. Dear God, if I could resign my post I would, but the Queen will never let me go.”
“Have you asked her?”
Kate hesitated. “I fear to anger her. You’ve seen what she’s like in a rage.”
He nodded, with feeling. “She treats her councillors like naughty schoolboys at times. One lord said recently that he would prefer to face the King of France in battle than the Queen in a fury. And then, of course, she will come out with some pearl of wisdom and we’re all yapping at her feet like puppies. She is the most infuriating woman.”
“I know! I meant to tell you that when I got back last week, she asked if I was well, but said nothing about our new baby. It seems unnatural, this constant denial of the normal instincts in women.”
“She is jealous,” Francis observed.
“No, it goes deeper than that, I think. Anyway, I will try to talk to her.”
“I will back you up. But Kate, if you do get to go home, you will see me even less than you do now. What with my parliamentary commitments and now being put forward as spokesman for the Council on questions of politics, I am overwhelmed with demands on my time.”
Kate felt like screaming with frustration. “It is not fair, having to choose between spending time with my husband and spending it with my children. I do declare, Francis, that I am going to have this out with the Queen.”
He drew in his breath at that. “Very well. But don’t anger her too much.”
—
She chose her moment carefully. Christmas was approaching and Elizabeth was happily planning a continual merry-go-round of balls, banquets, masques, and hunting parties.
One evening, when the women had prepared her for bed, Kate hung back in the bedchamber, taking her time to lay away the gorgeous clothing the Queen had worn earlier.
When they were alone, she turned to Elizabeth, who was still seated before her mirror, admiring herself, and began combing her mistress’s long red tresses.
“Bess, can I speak freely?” she asked.
“If it’s about Lord Robert, no,” she said sharply. “I’ve already had Kat warning me that if I marry him, I will incur so much enmity that I might one evening lie down as the Queen of England and rise the next morning as plain Mistress Elizabeth.”
“No, Bess, it is nothing to do with Lord Robert.” Kate watched her mistress visibly relax.
“It is about me. You know how fond I am of you, beyond the ties of blood. We are cousins, but I would be as a sister to you.” She paused to see if that evoked any response.
Still she longed for Elizabeth to acknowledge the closer bond between them. For that, she could forgive her a lot.
“But I do look upon you as a sister,” the Queen replied. “No woman is dearer to me. Tell me, Kate, what is all this about?”
“I just want to stress that I would never do anything to hurt you—but that you sometimes hurt me, whom you say you love.”
There was a seemingly endless pause. Elizabeth’s expression was hard to read. “How do I hurt you?” she asked at length.
“You keep me from those I love. I long to serve you, but I have a husband and children, and I rarely get to see them. If only you could be just a little more aware of my needs—”
Elizabeth rounded on her. “You talk of needs? Have you any idea of how lonely it feels to be queen and how much I need to have those I love around me? By God, Kate, I have raised you higher than most other women in this land; many would kill to be in your place. I have raised your husband, too. But what do I get in return? Complaints!”
Kate was trembling. “No, I beg you to listen, Bess—I am truly grateful. It is just that I cannot fathom why you do not understand my need to be with the man I love and our children.”
“Oh, I understand perfectly!” Elizabeth was working herself into a temper now. “You are like all the rest, content to subsume yourself in a mere man.”
“But that is the life I want, the life I have chosen,” Kate said quietly. “I am not a queen like you. Yet there must beat a heart in your royal breast. It beats fervently enough for Lord Robert!” She regretted the words immediately.
Elizabeth gave her a cold stare. “But I do not let my feelings for Lord Robert rule me. I am mindful of my position. I would have expected more of you, Kate. Marriage and children are not everything.”
“They are to me!” Kate cried, goaded beyond endurance. “I will not see them belittled. I ask, Bess, that you accept my resignation.”
“No! It is refused. Now go away and don’t ask me again, since you know what the answer will be.”
“But Bess, I am begging you. I am so unhappy, so torn.” Kate fell to her knees.
“Why should you not be happy serving your Queen?” Elizabeth spat. “You don’t know how privileged you are, and I will not have my love for you count for naught. Now get up and leave me. We’ll have no more of this nonsense.”
Kate seized her hands. “It’s not nonsense,” she said gently.
“I love you truly, as my Queen and as a sister. The last thing I want to do is hurt or offend you. But please remember that I need to be with my husband and children from time to time, for I love them, too. And if, as I hope, you yourself find a man to love and marry, then you will know how I feel.”
She rose.
“You may go,” Elizabeth said in a voice of ice, and turned away.