Chapter 24
Katherine Howard
Katherine Howard was having the best sex of her life.
Granted, seventeen years was not a very long life, nor had her previous partner left anything but disappointment in his wake. But God above if Thomas didn’t know exactly what she wanted, sometimes before she even knew herself.
“You’re quite good at this,” Kat whispered breathlessly in his ear as he trailed kisses down her neck.
“Better than the king?” Thomas asked, his mouth sinking lower to her breasts.
Kat’s answer was a moan. She dug her nails into his back, pulling him closer, closer, closer, seeking the sweet release he’d gifted her with twice already tonight.
Eager to meet her desire, Thomas kept pace, slipping his thumb between their bodies to bring Kat closer to the brink.
The moment his lips found hers again, the thunder building inside Kat reached a crescendo, and her whole body gave an exquisite shudder.
Thomas was close behind, and they lay gasping and entwined for several minutes, pressing slow kisses on each other’s passion-pink mouths.
“We are never leaving this bed,” Kat declared. “I will have the servants bring us food now and then, and we’ll eat it off each other when we need a moment’s rest.”
Thomas laughed, and Kat wondered at how beautiful he was.
His dark hair tumbled in unruly curls to just above his shoulders, and she loved that there was always an errant lock that she could brush from his forehead or cheek.
With his eyes crinkled up in laughter and his lean body lying deliciously naked beside hers, Thomas could have been the subject of a painting of the perfect man.
Suddenly ravenous to have him again, Kat pressed her body against his, loving how all her soft, yielding places met his hard planes.
His fingers curled around her waist in response, and she felt the length of him harden once more against her thigh.
The knowledge that he wanted her as desperately as she wanted him nearly knocked the air from her lungs.
“You’re going to be the death of me,” Thomas murmured into her neck, stroking a teasing hand up from her hips to her breasts and then back down to her burning core. When he found evidence of her own excitement, he groaned, tracing his teeth feather light along her collarbone.
He guided Kat back against the pillows, his thumb making teasing circles that left Kat panting and aching for more.
When he lowered himself over her and inch by inch slid inside, Kat wrapped her legs around his waist, arching to meet him until he was fully, gloriously sheathed.
They shared a lover’s grin, eyes dark with want, before Thomas flipped them over in one smooth motion.
Kat immediately saw the advantage—with his hands free, Thomas could do all kinds of things that made her see stars.
By the time they finished, Kat was certain she would never need anything else. Nothing but this bed and this man and endless hours of his uninterrupted attention on her body.
“I don’t think it’s possible for anyone to love someone more,” Thomas said, stroking her hair and watching her with half-lidded eyes. “Or—” he added with a mischievous nip on her earlobe “—to want someone more.”
Kat smiled lazily, somehow feeling both sated and insatiable at the same time. “It is a good thing my husband has too many concerns of his own to realize my heart belongs to another.”
If she’d had her way, she never would have married old, odious King Henry at all.
Kat had never forgiven him for killing her favorite cousin, Anne, who had been so glamorous and mysterious but also always went out of her way to make Kat laugh.
(And, even though she’d caught Kat in the act, Anne had never told Grandmam about the pearls in the pond.) She couldn’t fathom why her family had been so keen on the match, especially when he was older than her own father.
But seventeen-year-olds have little say in the fates of kingdoms, and when Henry approached her uncle the Duke of Norfolk with an offer, the marriage was already a done deal.
She had lain with Henry after their wedding, and still felt queasy recalling the short, awkward experience.
Since then, she had only had to perform the act on a handful of occasions, made less frequent by her encouragement of Henry’s drinking whenever they were together.
The sole benefit to having gone through the ordeal was that the king had been assured of Kat’s virginity and loss of her maidenhead. From that moment on, her body was her own, and now, she could use it.
The first time she saw Thomas Culpeper, one of Henry’s own privy chamber courtiers, she had been bowled over by his good looks and charm, but she thought her crush would amount to little more than a fantasy to brighten the dull moments between parties and other amusements at court.
Perhaps they’d have an affair, or perhaps she’d simply admire him from afar, wondering about the life she could have had.
It began with flirtatious banter over a game of cards, leading to painfully chaste dances at the spring balls under the watchful eyes of court.
Soon, Thomas was bringing her books he thought she would like, turning down the pages of his favorite passages.
He hid flowers for her around the palace, poking out of torch sconces and appearing on Kat’s breakfast tray.
And when he found out that the dog who lived in the kitchens had given birth to a litter of puppies, he snuck Kat down in the dead of night so she could coo over the mama and tiny babies.
Their moments together were stolen but sweet, and until just a few nights before, they’d never even made love, but instead spent their evenings together talking and counting stars.
Now, looking at the man beside her, Kat held back a wild shout of joy that threatened to tear out of her chest. This, this was the love of fairy tales and poetry and plays.
Though she knew it was wrong to be with a man who wasn’t her husband, Kat couldn’t bring herself to feel guilty.
The only thing Kat ever regretted was that she had to keep her love a fiercely guarded secret, for if the king were to find out about the affair, it would cost both their heads.
She would have much rather raced through the halls of Hampton Court shouting Thomas’s name than lain awake at night hoping they wouldn’t be caught.
She’d never wanted Henry, and had only had the misfortune of not being able to deny a king. What she wanted, wanted with her whole heart, was to run away from England with Thomas. It was a dream, she knew, but one so powerful she felt it might just manifest into reality through sheer force of will.
Thomas was still watching her, his gaze tracing her brow, her cheek, her chin, like he was preparing to sculpt her face from clay.
“If you were not already another man’s wife, I would marry you this instant,” he said, gently twirling a lock of Kat’s auburn hair.
“I’d pull a priest from his slumbers and make you a thousand vows. ”
Kat felt joy bloom inside her, radiating from head to toe. “You’re sure that notion isn’t influenced by the events of the last three hours?”
His roguish grin was almost enough to make Kat climb into his arms again. “Yes, and no. But who says we need a priest?”
Quick as lightning, he leaped out of bed and donned his tunic.
Kat started to protest, but he held up a finger and offered her the silken chemise that lay discarded on the floor.
Curious, Kat slipped into it, waiting for Thomas to return from the other side of the room where he was wrestling with one of the curtains.
“Here we are,” he said, racing back to her side. In his palm, he held two bits of gold cord from the curtain tassels. With deft hands, he looped the cord over Kat’s ring finger, tying the knot so it fit snugly above her knuckle.
“Do you take me to be yours?” he asked. His face was open, vulnerable in a way Kat had never seen it before.
“I do.” Kat’s fingers trembled slightly as she tied her length of cord around his finger. “And do you take me?”
“I do.” That heart-melting grin returned. “And if you’ll let me, I will.”
Kat laughed and leaped into his arms, letting Thomas carry her back to bed.[*]
Thomas snuck out sometime before dawn, and Kat woke alone. She stretched across the sheets, her body sore in a way that made her blush. She twirled her tassel ring around her finger, realizing if she squinted in just the right way, it looked like a wedding band.
But reality came crashing down a few minutes later as her servants and ladies-in-waiting descended to prepare her for the day.
If any of them suspected the queen had welcomed a nighttime visitor, no one dared say so.
Kat felt they must have been able to see it written on her face, if not in the faded pink love bites that dotted her body, but either the dim morning light or the discretion of the other women saved her from having to form an explanation.
And yet how she wished she could tell someone, anyone.
There were times when she feared her heart might burst if she had to keep her love a secret for a moment longer.
“Your Majesty, what is this?” one of the women asked, turning Kat’s hand back and forth to study the makeshift ring.
Kat extricated her fingers, holding her hand to her heart. “It’s a reminder of something important,” she replied, holding back a smile.
“Very well, Your Majesty. But since you’re due in court today, perhaps you’d want to wear something a bit more…traditional?”
Kat had forgotten she had to see Henry. After their wedding and a few months of being on progress to introduce the realm to their new queen, she had mostly managed to stay away from her husband.
But once every few weeks as he passed through, she had to sit at his side and play the role of besotted wife.
Pretending not to care about or understand the workings of the realm had been to her advantage, leaving her plenty of free time to fill as she pleased.
She let Henry and his nobles believe she was too young to involve herself in political matters, a persona all too easy to adopt when mixed in with her gorgeous French dresses and outrageous parties.
But Kat liked to think that she knew what it meant to be queen better than anyone else.
Don’t be too Catholic—you’ll be exiled like Catherine of Aragón.
Don’t be too clever—you’ll be beheaded like dear cousin Anne.
Don’t be too gentle—you’ll flicker out like Jane Seymour.
Don’t be too plain—you’ll be dismissed like Anna von Kleve.
Yes, Kat knew that her affair with Thomas was foolish, dangerous even, but to be a fifth wife was a mockery in itself, and Kat had no intention of allowing Henry to destroy her life the way he had with all the women before her.
After all, she’d only just started living.
Skip Notes
* You may notice your author is quiet here. I have been given these words to tell of the happiest day of Kat’s life, but I can provide no more.