Prisoner of the Queen (Tales From the Tudor Court) (24 page)

“
’Tis all right, Mrs. Helen, they only wished to see that I was well and had not forgotten them.” I laughed as little Beau tugged on the hem of my skirt as if to prove my statement correct, and then Arabel nudged him away so she could rub her soft head against my ankles. Not to be outdone, Rex nipped gently at my toes until I scratched him behind his ears.

“Little rascals,” Ned chuckled, picking up a stick and tossing it down the path.

All three dogs’ ears perked, and then they were off to chase the stick.

“Shall we return? I
’d hate for Cook to grow angry if we arrive and the hard work she put in to make our meal went to waste,” Ned said.

Of a sudden, I recalled the scents of freshly baked bread,
herbed vegetables and succulent meat. My stomach rumbled loudly, and I clutched a hand to my belly, feeling the heat rise in my cheeks.

“I will take that as an affirmative, Kat.” He chuckled and took my hand in his
. We ran back the way we’d come. “We must hurry, else your insides eat you whole.”

I giggled the whole way as we ran, my hood catching on a branch and wrenching pins and strands of hair free.

“My lady!” Mrs. Helen shouted with outrage when I kept going, not bothering to retrieve the shredded fabric.

Ned glanced over his shoulder at me, his eyes catching my golden tresses in the moonlight
, and gave me a look of such approval I felt it all the way to my toes.

But
Mrs. Helen would not have it. As soon as we reached the great hall, she rushed toward me with a glare fit to make any warrior cower.

“My lady,” she said through gritted teeth—and I allowed her this
only as she had nursed me as an infant. “You cannot possibly think to dine without your hood!”

“Fetch me a new one then,
Mrs. Helen, and do not frown so, it makes the creases on your face more prominent.” I gave her a petulant pout, while inside I laughed.

My longtime companion glowered at me, but rushed to find me a new hood, while Ned and I stood by the hearth.

“She is a dragon, that one,” he said with humor.

“Indeed, she is! Like a surrogate mother to me. She
’s been by my side since the day I was born. I could not imagine my life without her.”

“You are lucky to still have her about you.”

“Yes. She could very well have stayed with my sister Mary, as she was her nurse, too, but I was glad she chose to come with me. She has been my rock, especially—” But I cut myself short, not wanting to revisit past horrid tales.

Ned lifted my chin so our gazes connected.
“Tell me, Kat. If we are to be man and wife, oughtn’t I to know all there is?”

“But you do already. She was with me on many a frightened night when Jane was proclaimed
queen and then arrested. I still fear that I will be brought to the Tower for having Tudor blood in my veins.” My fear hovered just beneath the surface. In the back of my mind, I always assumed one day they would come for me.

Would I grow to see an elder version of myself in a looking glass?

“I will keep you safe, Kat. Together, we will live in peace.”

His words sounded so full of promise, but in the back of my mind, a niggling fear ate away at me. If Mary would only live and produce an heir
, I would be safe. But her health even know rested on a precipice. My future was uncertain—even if Ned could persuade first my mother and then the queen herself that we should be wed. But then there was Princess Elizabeth to contend with if Queen Mary should not live.

“The sooner we are wed, the better. I fear if we wait too long…”

“I shall speak to Her Grace in the morning, and God willing, with her permission, race for Whitehall to speak with Her Majesty at once.”

I nodded. “What about the Privy Council members? Do you think they would agree to the match?”

Ned frowned. “I should think at least half of them will. With the queen’s blessing, I won’t have to worry overmuch.”

Mrs. Helen
returned with my hood, pinned it in place and then disappeared to the kitchens to inform Cook we were ready for the meal to begin. With Mother in bed, Mary and Stokes in their own respective chambers, the evening meal was quiet and intimate.

“You fear Princess Elizabeth?” Ned asked between bites of meat.

“I do not,” I remarked on a half-truth. “Why do you ask?”

“What you said before, it seemed as though you thought if she were to become queen before we married that our efforts to marry may be fruitless.”

I nodded. “I would never speak an unkind word against my cousin, but ’tis the truth she and my sister Jane—God rest her soul—were at odds, and at times her ire has trickled down to me. She has styled herself a pious and virtuous woman, even more so after what happened with your uncle, Thomas Seymour, and from what I’ve heard, she prefers all those close to her to be just as virginal and unattached. I am rambling and not making much sense, but suffice it to say, I worry she may deny my request for marriage simply on the grounds that she herself is not.”

“The council is in constant talks for her to marry. She will be wed soon enough, and then your fears will be forever gone.”

I nodded, feeling a headache coming on. Pain seared across my forehead, as it did whenever panic began to dig its claws into my person. “As you say.”

I did not want to argue with Ned. He was but a man, and a man who believed princesses followed the rule of the council. He
’d not spent much time with Elizabeth, I suspected. But I had, and I’d seen the feral outrage that splintered her countenance when the topic of marriage was broached. Although it lasted only a split second before the docile, obedient sister to the queen returned, and she’d incline her head. I’d seen in those split seconds that she would succumb to no man.

Chapter
Eleven

They wayd in balance of their breasts,

what sittest served their corns:

And like as wood takes flame of fire,

and so to cinders born.

So throw the heat of this mishap,

they felt such sorrow thoe…

~Thomas Churchyard

Elizabethan
soldier and poet

July
27, 1558

“You wish to ask for the hand of my daughter? A princess of the blood?”
Mother’s features were pinched as she stared Ned straight in the face.

M
y feet shifted beneath my vast, rose-colored skirts. I endeavored to keep the swish of my skirts from outward notice. My nerves were frayed, and I jumped at every inflection in my mother’s tone. She may have become a shell of her former self in body, but in mind she was as sharp as ever.

“Indeed, Your Grace. I would be honored if you agreed to my offer of marriage to your most virtuous daughter. I have offered her my ring, and she has accepted.”

I stood
near the back of Mother’s chamber, my head bowed as I listened to their conversation. The hand with Ned’s ring rested overtop of my other hand so Mother could see the shining gold and diamonds. Stokes stood beside Mother, his hand resting on the wood-framed cushioned chair she’d been positioned on. Little Mary had disappeared once again—at which I’d come to realize she was quite talented.

“What, pray tell, makes you a worthy groom? She could marry a prince or a duke, and you are but a
baron.”

“If it pleases, I am the son of a duke, and my mother,
the Duchess of Somerset, descends from kings.”

I chanced a glance at Mother to see her reaction to his words
—information she most certainly had already known, as every noble made it their business to know the pedigree of every other. Her back was ramrod straight, her clothes billowed on her slight frame, and dark circles ringed beneath her eyes. But her skin had taken on a fleshier color instead of the sickly yellow upon my first arrival.

“Descended of kings, indeed.” She did not s
nort, but I feared she wanted to. “You are undeniably of noble stock—a drop of royalty even flows through your veins.” She tapped her fingers on the arm of her polished chair. “If I were to accept your proposal, what is it you wish in return? Every groom seeks a dowry, and you must know Katherine has one.”

“I worry not over her dowry, Your Grace. I am wealthy enough to support us
in the style she is deserving.”

The
duchess raised a brow that said she did not believe his denial of wanting the dowry. “You seek nothing but a warm body in your bed? Why not find a scullion to lie with?”

I sucked in a breath, seeing where Mother was going with her words. She
wanted
Ned to want something besides me. She wanted to know that he was shrewd as well as in love.

“Land is always preferable
, as is plate, Your Grace.”

“And you had something in mind?”

“I would defer to my bride.”

“Would you?”

“Since I plan to let her retain any such gain from our marriage, then yes, indeed, I would.”

Something softened in
Mother’s eyes, as if she had hoped for something like this in her own life. A man who was willing to give up wealth for her—true love. She glanced back at Stokes, confirming my suspicions. She had married the man for love, but he’d brought nothing of worth to the table.

“I like a man with conviction. How do I know you will continue to be so chivalrous toward my daughter?”

“Your Grace, I love Lady Katherine. I wish her nothing but happiness, and I hope to be the one who can provide it.”

Mother
’s lips curled in a smile. “What say you, Katherine?”

My eyes widened, and I stepped forward. “Your Grace, I will gladly take Lord Beauchamp to wed.”

“Then it is settled. All that is left to do is seek Her Majesty’s approval and draw up the marriage contract.”

My heart soared—literally
. I felt as though my entire body was lifted from the ground. At last! After so many years pining for just this thing, marriage to a man I loved, who loved me in return, a future of happiness and peace! Soon, it would be mine.

“I will ride to beg an audience with Her Majesty at once,” Ned said.

The duchess shook her head, lips pursed. What ultimatum would she offer? I opened my mouth to protest but, thinking better of it, shut it again.

“I would like to write her myself, Lord Beauchamp. The
queen is my cousin, and perhaps I will be able to influence her decision before you should need to ask. I do believe she will be agreeable to the match. After what happened…” Mother’s voice trailed off, and for a fleeting moment, she looked vulnerable. She waved her hand, as if dismissing her sad thoughts. “Well, in any case, she has taken a liking to Katherine, and so I think she would be amenable to her marrying.”

“As you say, Your Grace. I trust in your judgment.”

Mother inclined her head, exhaustion pinching the corners of her eyes. “If that is all, you may leave me.”

Why was Mother suddenly so charitable? For once she was being helpful rather than scheming to see how the turn of events could work in her favor. Was she making amends? Trying to protect me? I wanted to be happy, but part of me worried about her impetus.

Ned and I bowed to my mother and inclined our heads to Master Stokes. Before leaving the room, I turned back to Mother. She didn’t notice me, but I watched her shoulders slump. The woman had fortitude. She was exhausted, but still insisted on maintaining her stoic countenance in the face of others.

I witness
ed Stokes lift Mother in his arms, cradling her beneath her legs and back as though she were a babe. They gazed at each other lovingly. I found the scene to be disturbing—only because I had grown up thinking Mother incapable of love. I thought her to be a cold woman, and to see such warmth on her face—warmth that had never once been directed at me— struck me hard.

“How shall we celebrate,
my bride?” Ned gripped my hand in his large, warm grasp and pulled me into the corridor.

He picked me up
at the waist and twirled me about the corridor, and I squealed with delight. Two maids tittered, their heads together, hands over their mouths as they hurried past.