In the Shadow of the Crown (37 page)

“You are ill, Lady Latimer,” I said.

She nodded. Then she said, “The King has asked me to be his wife.”

I wanted to comfort her, to tell her that I was her friend; but I was never very good at showing my feelings. So I just looked at her with sympathy and understanding in my eyes.

“I am not young,” she went on piteously. “I am not beautiful. Why should he choose me?”

“I guess that he likes your company.”

“But I never thought …” Her eyes were appealing. I read in them that which she dared not utter. She was remembering that I was his daughter; how could she tell me she was afraid that to marry the King would be to put her life in danger?

I said, “You have agreed to become his wife?”

She replied, “I told him that I would prefer to be his mistress rather than his wife.” I stared at her. “That was bold of you.” “He thought so. It angered him. It shocked him. He said he did not understand my meaning. Then he smiled and said, ‘You are overcome by the honor, Kate. No need to be. I choose you and that is enough.' I could see how angry he would be if I refused. He went on, ‘Then the matter is settled. You shall be my Queen. I have had my eyes on you for many a day, and I know that there is happiness ahead for us two.'”

“And so,” I said, “the matter is settled.”

“When the King commands, one obeys.” She looked at me piteously.

“I have had two old husbands. I have been a nurse rather than a wife.”

I thought of his leg. I had never seen beneath the bandages but I believed it was not a pretty sight. Those in attendance on him must bathe it, apply the prescribed ointments and endure his fury when the pain was great.

It seemed that her fate was to act as nurse to old men. And there was Thomas Seymour, good-looking and romantic, cast by nature in the role of lover, waiting for her.

“If you are ill …” I said. “My father cannot bear illness. He never has.”

“But I am not ill. I am just… afraid.”

“Perhaps you could tell him you are already betrothed.”

She looked over her shoulder. I understood. We were speaking too frankly.

We had come to the conclusion that there was no way out for her.

“You will be our stepmother,” I said gently. “If I could have chosen, there would be none I would rather have.”

Then she embraced me, clinging to me for comfort.

I tried to give it to her. I wished I was able to convey more firmly my understanding and my sympathy; but it was not easy for me to give way to my emotions, and I am afraid I could not help her much. In any case, what help could I give her?

MY FATHER SENT for me. He was beaming; he was clearly happy and looking younger. He smiled at me affectionately.

“Good news, daughter. The best of news. I am to have a wife. This will be a good marriage. It is Lady Latimer.”

I fell to my knees and kissed his hand.

“I am happy for Your Majesty.”

“Yes, yes… get up. We shall be married soon. There will be no point in delay. I have been long enough without a wife.”

Long enough! It was a year since Catharine Howard had walked out to Tower Green; it was scarcely six since Edward had been born, and there had been two wives since then. But he said he had been a long time without a wife, so that was what we must accept.

“It will not be a grand marriage. I want no delays. A family affair. You will attend on the new Queen.”

“And Elizabeth?” I asked.

He hesitated, then he said, “Yes. Let the girl be there. This is a family occasion. You should prepare her.”

I said I would, although I did not think she would need much preparation. Did she not revel in royal occasions and constantly endeavor to be included in them?

He dismissed me, and I left him happier than he had been for a long time.

Edward was at Hampton Court, and I knew that I should find Elizabeth with him. Those two were constantly together. They shared a love of learning. In fact, Edward could scarcely be parted from his books, and as soon as he rose in the morning he wanted to be reading. He was quick and clever, rather as Elizabeth was.

I had been something of a scholar myself but I was never as avid for learning as those two were. In Edward's case I believe it was partly due to the
fact that physical exercise tired him; lessons never did; and as he excelled at them, his enthusiasm was great. But Elizabeth, though she loved to dance and ride, was as eager as he was to learn. It made a great bond between them.

I guessed that if I went to his apartments I should find Elizabeth there.

I was right; and I was not really surprised to see Thomas Seymour there, for I knew he was a frequent visitor.

I heard sounds of merriment as I approached the apartments but when I entered the schoolroom there was silence. The atmosphere had changed suddenly. Seymour bowed low and, coming to me, took my hand and kissed it humbly, raising his eyes to my face as he did so; there was nothing humble in the look he gave me. His eyes were admiring, his respect was flattering; but that was Seymour's way with women and it did not impress me.

Edward was slightly flushed; Elizabeth looked a little sly. I felt I had intruded on an intimacy which had been very enjoyable to the company.

I went to Edward. He held out his hand to me, and I kissed it.

He was aware of his position—second to the King—and he remembered it on occasions like this, though I imagined where Elizabeth was concerned much formality was dispensed with, for she was certainly in command.

Whenever I was in her company I was always very much aware of her. She seemed watchful. She was not yet ten years old and exceptionally clever—and not only in book-learning; she had a shrewdness, a maturity, a secretive air as though she harbored thoughts which would not bear the light of day. She was not pretty, but her startling vitality called immediate attention to her. Her green gown accentuated the red of her hair; her white skin was clear and radiant. She had more than beauty.

There was Seymour, too, who was of particular interest to me because of what I had just heard from Lady Latimer who was in love with this man and he—so she thought—with her. I wondered how far his love would carry him. Would he take her away… snatch her from under the King's nose and fly with her? Fly where? Leave the country? Seek refuge with the King of France or the Emperor? Would he dare? He looked daring but I fancied he would be concerned with himself. Heads rolled so easily, and his was far too handsome for him to wish to part with it.

I said, “I trust you are well, my Prince, my sister, Lord Seymour?”

Characteristically, I imagined, Seymour answered for them all.

“We are well, are we not? And we trust the Lady Mary is in the same happy state.”

I assured him that I was.

“I seem to have interrupted some frolic,” I said.

“There is always frolic when my Lord Seymour visits us,” said Elizabeth. “Is there not, brother?”

Edward lifted his shoulders and giggled. He looked younger—more like an ordinary little boy than I had ever seen him before.

“The Prince is always gracious to his poor uncle,” said Seymour.

“He calls him his favorite uncle,” added Elizabeth.

“Which gives me great delight, but I fear he flatters me.”

“He does not. He does not,” cried Elizabeth. “And you know it, Lord Seymour. You
are
his favorite uncle.”

I thought: How fond Edward is of him… and Elizabeth, too. It was understandable. He had charm and good looks, and they went well with his somewhat flamboyant manner.

“It is a great honor for our sister to visit us,” said Elizabeth demurely.

“Even when she interrupts a merry game?” I asked.

“But you are most welcome,” said Elizabeth. “Is she not, Edward? Tell her she is welcome.”

What presumption! I thought. She is telling the heir to the throne how to behave… she, who, though she may be recognized as the King's daughter, is his acknowledged bastard. Yet Edward seemed to like it, and Seymour was amused.

“I have brought news for you,” I said. “Though you may have heard it. It is not really unexpected. Perhaps my Lord Seymour has been imparting it to you and that is the cause of your merriment?”

They were looking at me expectantly.

“You are to have a new stepmother.”

Silence. Consternation. Edward's face puckered. He had known two stepmothers already—although never his own mother. Anne he liked very much, and he still visited her; Catharine Howard's beauty and easy manners had won his heart; he had been very sad to lose her. And now there was to be another!

Elizabeth was alert; and so was Seymour. Did he guess? I wondered. How much did he care for Lady Latimer? Not as much as she cared for him, I speculated.

“Who is it who will be our new stepmother?” asked Elizabeth impatiently.

“It is Lady Latimer.”

My eyes went to Seymour's face. I saw it pale slightly, and for a moment the mask of high spirits and favorite uncle slipped. He was disturbed.

“Lady Latimer!” said Edward. “She is a lovely lady.”

“I like her well,” added Elizabeth, as though that in itself was good enough reason for the marriage.

Seymour said nothing.

I looked at him and said, “For some time the King has been showing his
interest in this lady, but I think she was as surprised as you are that he has asked her to be his Queen.”

He still did not speak. Elizabeth and Edward chattered about Lady Latimer and how they would welcome her as their new stepmother. I was sure they were both remembering Catharine Howard, for it was such a short time ago that she had held that unenviable position.

Seymour then said quietly, “My Lady Mary, you are sure of this?”

“I have had it from both Lady Latimer and the King himself.”

“Then it is so,” he said.

“The marriage will take place shortly. You are to be in attendance, Elizabeth.”

“Oh!” She clasped her hands together in ecstasy. There was little she liked better than to be present at royal functions. Showing herself to the people, Susan called it. Susan shared Margaret Bryan's view that Elizabeth would come to either great triumph or absolute disaster. There would be no half measures with Elizabeth. “When will it be?” she demanded.

“Very soon. The King wants no delay.”

She was smiling secretly. She turned to Seymour. “You hear that, my lord? I am to be present at the ceremony.”

Her look was almost defiant. I wondered how much she knew of the love between Seymour and Lady Latimer; she was teasing him in some way; he gave her a strange look, too. He seemed to be recovering fast from the effect of the first blow and it was something in Elizabeth which made him do so, I fancied. It was almost as though there was some secret understanding between them.

I said to her, “You will have to be prepared.”

“Yes. What shall I wear? What am I to do?”

“You will just be there. You will do nothing. It is just a gesture…to show this is a family matter.”

She clasped her hands and looked ecstatic. Edward was smiling, well pleased. I could not fathom Seymour's expression; but I felt sure that he must be very unhappy to have lost his bride.

MY FATHER WAS DETERMINED that there should be no delay. On the 10th of July of that year 1543 Archbishop Cranmer granted a license for the marriage, and two days later it took place.

Elizabeth and I were present, and with us was our cousin, Lady Margaret Douglas. The ceremony took place in the Queen's Closet at Hampton Court and was presided over by Gardiner, the Bishop of Winchester.

The King was attended by that other Seymour, Edward, now Lord Hertford. Thomas had tactfully retired from Court. I wondered whether it was
because he could not bear to see the one he loved married to someone else, or that he feared the King might have discovered his feelings for the lady. In any case it would be discreet for him to banish himself. Over the years I had learned something of men, and I was almost certain that Thomas Seymour's feelings might not go as deep as he would charmingly indicate they did. Men such as he charm effortlessly. He did it automatically, and such men should not be taken seriously. Perhaps Lady Latimer had done just that. I was desperately sorry for her. How did she feel as the nuptial ring was put on her finger? Surely her thoughts must be with her predecessors?

I greatly admired my new stepmother. She was a woman of remarkable courage, and it was sad to think that she, who had been a nurse to two husbands, should have a similar task awaiting her… but with an alarming difference. This last marriage could take her by a few steps to the scaffold; and that was a thought which must always be with her.

Yet after she had overcome her initial fear she gave no sign that it haunted her. As for the King, he was delighted. Most people thought that here was a wife who was personable enough to please him and of a temperament to soothe him; and in any case they might hope for a more peaceful life ahead.

We were of an age to be friends, and I felt this could be a happy state of affairs between us.

On the day of her marriage she gave me a gold bracelet set with rubies. I exclaimed at their beauty.

“I want you to think of me when you wear it,” she told me. “It is a very special wish of mine that we shall be friends.”

I was touched and replied that it was what I hoped for.

“You must not think of me as a mother,” she said. “How could you? I know how dearly you loved your own mother. But perhaps we could be as sisters. I shall regard you and dear Edward and Elizabeth as my own… that is, if they will allow me to.”

“They will be pleased to. Both of them have lacked a mother.”

She nodded. “I want you to accept this money,” she went on. “I know that it is sometimes difficult for you to meet your expenses.”

“Oh please…you are too kind to me.”

“There must be no reluctance to help each other. That is how it is with sisters…is it not? Or it should be.”

She gave me £25, which was quite a princely sum to me.

She went on, “I want to make things happy … between you all and your father. You are at Court now … but Elizabeth shall come, too.”

“That is what she wants more than anything.”