Chapter 43
By the spring, Kate was more herself, even if her stomach felt constantly delicate these days.
Elizabeth had been more than supportive, ordering special dishes to tempt her and sending her off to bed early, but she had virtually usurped Francis’s role as comforter, which rattled him no end.
At length, Kate told her that she would feel much better if she could sleep in her own bed, to which Elizabeth reluctantly agreed.
In May came the news that Queen Mary had escaped from Lochleven with the help of her custodian’s brother, who had imagined himself in love with her.
He had escorted her to Hamilton, southeast of Glasgow, where she had been joined by several lords and an army of six thousand men.
Kate, who had been quietly sewing a smock for Lettice’s youngest baby, was startled to hear Elizabeth whoop in jubilation as she read the news.
Having announced it to her ladies, the Queen immediately sat down to write a message of congratulation to Mary, offering help and support.
It probably never reached her. The next they heard, the Scottish lords had risen in arms and Mary’s force had suffered a crushing defeat at Langside.
She had fled in panic from the battlefield knowing that all was lost, and made her way into England, announcing that she had come to place herself under Elizabeth’s protection and seek military aid so that she could crush her enemies for good.
Elizabeth was horrified when she read that.
“Why has she come into England when she could have gone to France, where she has her dower income and can practice her faith?” she wondered fretfully.
“I was happy to champion her cause in Scotland, but does she really think I will provide her with an army when she has always shown herself to be ambitious for my crown? Hah!”
She agonized over what she should do with Mary, yet she had to make a decision quickly. The authorities in the north were awaiting instructions as to how to treat their uninvited guest, who had been placed under guard in Carlisle Castle.
That night, Elizabeth kept Kate and Blanche up late, discussing her dilemma.
“The best solution would be to bring about a reconciliation between Mary and her lords on terms favorable to England. I would like to send her back to Scotland. She must be restored at once. I shall insist upon it. Cecil says that if we send her back, we will be sending her to her death, yet I cannot furnish her with an army.”
“You insisted on her restoration before, Bess, and the Scots took no notice,” Blanche pointed out.
“Yes, but what can I do with her? Every option open to me carries its dangers.”
“You could send her to France?” Kate suggested.
“That would be folly! We don’t want a French army north of the border again.”
Elizabeth got up and began pacing, her silk skirts swishing angrily.
“I can’t leave her at liberty in England.
She will be an inspiration to every Catholic malcontent in the kingdom.
There are still those of the old faith who regard her as having a better title to the English throne than I do, especially in the north, where the Protestant faith has barely taken root.
They’ve been rejoicing there at her coming to England.
She could become a focus for rebellion or treason. By God, I wish she had not come!”
She sat down, shaking her head. “There is only one course open to me, I fear. She must remain in England for now, not in prison, but in honorable custody as my guest, where I can have her under constant observation. Kate, your husband can go north to Carlisle to welcome her in my name and take charge of her.”
Kate stifled her dismay. She did not want Francis going so far north to a region where the people were said to be savages, and she knew he would not relish the task, for he heartily disapproved of the Queen of Scots.
“He will escort her to London, then?” she asked.
Elizabeth stared at her. “Oh no! He must tell her that it will be impossible for her to be admitted to my presence because of the great slander of murder that attaches to her name, of which she is not yet purged. Until she has been formally acquitted, I, as an unmarried Queen, cannot receive her or welcome her to my court.”
Kate was near to weeping. She could feel her unsettled stomach churning. “Then when will my husband return?”
“Did I not make myself clear? He is to be Queen Mary’s host in the north, or rather, her custodian for as long as I need him to keep her there.”
To be assigned such an important duty was a great honor for Francis, but Kate thought she might faint.
They had often been parted, but the thought of him going so far away from her with no date set for his return was unbearable, and she needed him at this time, when she was fearful for her health and feeling vulnerable. “When does he depart?” she whispered.
“Immediately,” Elizabeth said, seemingly unaware of the impact her decision was having on Kate, who was struggling not to cry.
As soon as she was free, Kate ran to Francis’s lodging, only to find that he wasn’t there. She sat on the bed, twisting the fabric of her kirtle in her hands, keening in misery. How would she bear life without him?
It was nearly midnight when he returned.
She knew by his face that he had received his orders.
“Oh, Kate…” he said, and she went into his arms, drinking in the reality of him, knowing that she would have to live on this memory for perhaps a long time.
Oh, why had the wicked Queen of Scots chosen to come into England?
“I have begged the Queen to let you come north with me,” he said, his voice breaking. “But she refuses to be parted from you.”
“How will we bear it?” she cried.
“We will bear it because our love is strong,” he soothed her, but his hands were trembling.
They held each other for a long time and then they sat down and spoke of practicalities and finances.
The children were well provided for and well looked after.
The younger ones could stay with their tutors and nurses at Syon, where Kate could visit them.
Bilkins could always be trusted to run Greys Court efficiently, and both Kate and Francis would keep in touch with him by letter, and with the steward at Syon.
They had been discussing possible spouses for their older unmarried children, but those plans would have to wait for now.
“You must press the Queen to let you come north to visit me,” Francis said.
“I will continue to ask her, too. She cannot keep us apart indefinitely.” He shook his head.
“I do not relish this appointment, and not just because it takes me away from you. You know that I have no good opinion of the Queen of Scots, and I fear her penchant for intrigue. It is a heavy burden her Majesty has laid upon me.”
“I do not envy you,” Kate commiserated. “But I see that you are the best man for the office, the one who will be the most impervious to her wiles. She is very beautiful, I hear, and she may play on your chivalrous instincts.” She was voicing her inmost fears.
She trusted Francis, of course she did, for he had never given her cause not to.
Yet the Queen of Scots had a reputation; she was clearly an enchantress, one whom even the most moral of men might not be able to resist.
Francis looked horrified. “Darling, she will never arouse any chivalrous instincts in me. Since I met you, I have never looked at another woman. She can work all the wiles she likes on me—it won’t get her anywhere.”
“I’m sorry, Francis. I do trust you, indeed I do. It’s just that I have heard such scandalous things about her.” She rested her head on his shoulder, and he put his arm around her.
“She’ll have no opportunity for scandal at Carlisle.”
Their parting soon afterward was searingly painful. Kate did not know how she kept a smile on her face when she stood by the mounting block in the palace courtyard and gave Francis the customary stirrup cup to hearten him for his long journey.
“The weather is good,” she said, when what she really wanted to say was, Don’t go! Don’t leave me! I cannot bear to be without you! Why was it that people said such inane things at times of crisis?
“God be with you, my heart,” Francis said, and blew her a kiss as he rode away at the head of his train. He did not look back.
—
It was a month—a long, miserable month—before she heard from him.
In a lengthy, affectionate letter, he told her that he was quite comfortable at Carlisle Castle.
“As soon as I arrived, I was admitted to Queen Mary’s presence.
She keeps royal state here like a queen.
To be frank with you, I can see how she entraps men, although you must not worry, for even if I were inclined to stray, I do not find her beautiful.
Many have flattered her because of who she is.
” Kate smiled. Elizabeth would be pleased to hear that. She was inordinately jealous of Mary.
“She asked if the Queen would receive her, but I told her that it would not be possible just yet, not while she was under suspicion for her husband’s murder.
She did not like that, of course, but I think that plain speaking is the best course.
I keep her under constant guard, but she is allowed to go hunting with an escort.
All in all, I do not think that my task will be onerous.
She is doing her best to be gracious to me.
It serves no one well if we are at loggerheads. ”
Reading the letter was like hearing Francis’s dear, familiar voice.
And when, at the end, he spoke of how much he missed her and how lonely the nights were, the words blurred and she broke down.
Oh, it was cruel, cruel, to be separated!
She must make Elizabeth understand how much unhappiness it was causing them both.
—