Chapter 15
As spring gave way to summer, Marris found herself settling into a new rhythm at Winterhill.
Life at the priory had had its own seasons, of course, and this was not so different, although with the added excitement of seeing the finishing touches to the new house, and the developing plans for the gardens.
London and the court seemed very far away.
The Lady Anna did not write and Marris thought that was very wise.
Meanwhile, Richard Swan flourished at Woolstone under the care of his nurse and the watchful eye of Alison and Sam Welland, who doted on their adoptive son.
As his godmother, Marris occasionally called to take gifts and provisions, and to ask after the boy’s health.
Her and Will’s son, little Thomas Sharington, was also thriving. Life felt safer and more peaceful.
‘Who could have imagined that Alison would be so indulgent a mother under that dour exterior,’ Will commented after one visit, ‘or indeed Sam so excellent a father?’
‘Richard was just what they needed,’ Marris observed.
In June, Bridget wrote to Marris from London:
My very dearest sister, we are to go on a royal progress! We visit York, which I know to be a very fine city, albeit it somewhere in the north. And Pontefract, which I hear is a severe sort of a place, a castle that is distressingly medieval…
I have painted a number of portraits for members of the court and everyone agrees they are remarkably good, although not so good as Master Holbein.
No one pays me for them as I am a woman, of course, but at least my fame spreads…
The Queen has appointed a number of new people to her household, those she knew from her childhood at Chesworth and Lambeth.
I mislike me some of them for they are familiar with her, which is surely inappropriate…
I hope that you and Sir William and little Tom all do very well. Your loving sister, Bridget.
Rose also wrote from Surrey, where she was pregnant with her second child. Her husband, Sir Geoffrey, she said, was absent at court in London for a large part of the time and he was also going to be a part of the magnificent royal progress to the north that summer and autumn. She wrote:
I imagine that our sister Bridget has spoken much of this to you, for she is cock a hoop to be accompanying the Queen. However, she does not take the opportunity this affords her to find herself a husband, but spends all her time reading and painting. It is quite incomprehensible…
I have visited your former mistress, the Lady Anna, the King’s sister, at Bletchingley Manor… She seems surprisingly merry for such a discarded wife… But then she has riches sufficient to make up for any humiliation and a new gown for every day of the week!
‘One wonders how poor Lady Anna feels to have your sister grace her with her company,’ Will said as he and Marris sat beneath the shade of the old apple trees in the orchard at Winterhill the evening after the letter had arrived.
They had fashioned a meal of bread and cheese and ham, washed down with their own cider, and Will had carried the basket whilst Marris had chosen the spot to place the blanket under the spreading branches.
The air was full of the hum of bees and the scent of warm fruit.
Marris loved it here, in what had been the old orchard and herb garden of the priory.
The sharp-edged hurt that she had felt on the destruction of the priory buildings was starting to soften as she realised that her new life and new home carried so much of the old with it.
Besides, how could she not feel blessed, with Will and now Thomas in her life? And there would soon be another…
‘I imagine that Queen Anna was as gracious as ever to Rose,’ she said, smiling, ‘no matter how she felt.’
‘She is a remarkable woman,’ Will said, surprising her.
‘To have borne so much and come through it with such stoicism and determination.’ He tilted the cider flask to his lips.
‘I confess I admire her.’ He looked at her.
‘Do you miss her, Marris? The two of you were so close yet now you cannot see one another.’
‘I do miss her,’ Marris admitted, ‘and I think of her often.’ She sighed, touching the tip of her fingers to a daisy that was pushing up through the grass.
‘Anna and I sacrificed our friendship for the sake of Richard,’ she said.
‘Or perhaps we realised that the nature of it had to change, so that I could keep him safe for her. Besides—’ she reached out to touch the back of Will’s hand ‘—my place is here now, beside you.’
She saw a shadow touch his eyes and sat up sharply. ‘What is it, Will?’ she said.
Will shrugged a little uncomfortably, turning her hand over to lock his fingers with hers.
‘Nothing of consequence,’ he said. ‘Merely that the King has summoned me to court in the autumn when he returns from the progress in the north. The letter arrived last eventide but I was loath to tell you straight away and destroy our peace. You are invited to court too, should you wish to enter the service of Queen Catherine. I imagine that is unlikely to appeal to you. However, we could remove the household to London if you would like to come with me.’
‘I always wish to be with you.’ Marris felt something sharp, anxiety, pinch between her ribs.
She had always known that these months, blessed as they had seemed, could not last. Sir William was in the King’s service, after all, and sooner or later the monarch was going to demand that he attend on him.
She breathed out, deliberately allowing herself to let the anxiety go.
It was not for another several months, after all. Anything might happen in that time.
‘I doubt I shall be able to go with you,’ she added, ‘much as I would prefer it. For you see…’ She smiled at him. ‘By then, God willing, I think I shall be starting to grow big with child again.’
Will’s face lit up and he pulled her – gently – into his arms. ‘So soon?’ he murmured. ‘Are you sure?’
‘I am not absolutely certain,’ Marris admitted, ‘for it is very early days. But I have the morning sickness again, and Mrs Wood is sure I am pregnant, being something of an expert in such matters.’
Will nodded. ‘My love,’ he said. ‘I could not be happier.’ And for a while his embrace blocked out Marris’s fears for the future and the creeping sense that there was hidden danger waiting.
* * *
November 1541 – London
London in November was a miserable place, or so it seemed to Marris, fresh from the country.
The air was clammy and cold, scented with an uneasy mix of rotting rubbish and woodsmoke.
The sky was heavy and grey, and the people seemed harried and even more short-tempered than Marris remembered.
The city was awash with rumour and speculation about the recent arrest of the Queen on a charge of treason, and the news that the King had locked himself away in fury, shock and disbelief whilst the Council, led by the Archbishop of Canterbury, investigated the accusations of adultery.
As her coach forced its way through the crowded streets to Rose’s town house in Broad Street, Austen Friars, Marris held a scented pomander to her nose and tried to ignore the nausea induced by every bump and jolt.
Mrs Wood had argued long, hard and in vain that she should stay in Berkshire, pointing out that to risk the journey when she was several months pregnant was madness.
But Marris had insisted on travelling. Rose had written, indicating that Bridget was under interrogation over what she knew of the Queen’s infidelities.
Will could not help, for he was in Dover on the King’s business with orders for the naval improvements there.
He was not expected back for several weeks, perhaps longer.
Marris knew she was the only person who could speak for her sister, try to protect her, or do what she could at least to soften Bridget’s ordeal.
Rose greeted her at the house in Broad Street.
She was glowing with good health and youthful beauty.
Being back in the capital and back at court clearly suited her.
So did the excitement of the scandal that had engulfed them all.
As Rose ushered her into the parlour and offered her refreshment after her journey, Marris could see that what her sister was enjoying most was showing off the superiority of her modern house alongside the opportunity to gossip.
‘Bridget claims she knew nothing of the Queen’s infidelity,’ Rose said, with a self-righteous sniff, ‘but how could she not know when she was a lady in waiting? They say the Queen was intimate with any number of men before her marriage and continued in the same manner after. They have arrested the old Dowager Duchess of Norfolk, all the Queen’s lovers, and any number of her ladies, for someone must have known of it and concealed it from the King. ’
‘It is very shocking,’ Marris acknowledged, ‘but what may we do to help Bridget? Can your husband Sir Geoffrey plead her case with the King? Until Will returns, Geoffrey is the one with the greatest influence with His Majesty.’
Rose looked horrified. ‘Good God, Geoffrey would not risk his future on such a lost cause and neither should Sir William! The Queen is finished and Bridget will very likely go down with her, for they were the closest of friends.’ She looked sideways at Marris.
‘It grieves me to say it, but there is naught we can do for her but hope and pray.’
‘I prefer to do something more active,’ Marris said dryly.
She was infuriated by Rose’s self-interest and apparent lack of concern for her sister.
Had Rose always been so selfish or had the scramble for preferment at court corrupted her to the soul?
She did not know but she could not bear simply to wait around whilst Bridget was in the Tower of London.