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The Lady Carey

Page 8

by Anne R Bailey


  “Angela can show you how to salt butter — that’s what you can do for now.”

  “I thought I was in charge.” Catherine didn’t like feeling like she was being ordered around.

  Doris gave her a poignant look. “What shall we do then?”

  Catherine was defeated; she didn’t know enough to give any orders. “Well I can keep the records…”

  “The steward does that. He comes in and weighs and measures everything we produce. I suppose you can help him with that.”

  “So I’ll salt butter.”

  “That’s the spirit.”

  Angela was much friendlier than Doris.

  “Don’t fret too much about Doris. She’s been running the dairy for ages,” she said as she showed Catherine how to measure out the precious salt.

  “Just work it into the butter with the paddles. If you use your hands the butter would melt. It should solidify like that piece over there and that’s when you’ll know you are finished. Is that okay, Mistress Catherine?”

  “Yes, I think I have the hang of it.” Catherine took up the wooden paddles in her hands.

  “You might want to wear an apron.” Doris called over her shoulder as she was dumping cream into the churn.

  Angela grabbed her one hanging on a peg by the door. “You don’t want to stain your pretty dress.”

  Catherine looked down. This was one of her every day dresses but compared to what the girls were wearing it was very fine indeed.

  The day passed by quickly with all the work she was given. They wouldn’t let her do any of the more menial tasks for which Catherine was grateful, but working the butter was hard work for now. She knew her arms would be sore tomorrow. Luckily, as the sun was setting, she knew it must be time for supper and hung up her apron for the day

  It surprised her that she was so proud of the butter she had set into molds.

  She knew she must have smelled and the work had also left her sweaty, so she did her best to wash her hands and neck with some scented water from her rooms before heading down to dinner.

  Her brother was ready with jokes and insults.

  “You smell, Cathy!” He laughed holding his nose. “I think you should eat down there with the servants.”

  “Hush, Harry.” Mary chided him.

  William gave Catherine a warm smile. “You are learning important work. The dairy is just one of the many things that keeps this manor on its feet.”

  Catherine was too tired to complain or ask to be released from the work. This wasn’t a fight she was willing to have at the moment. She sat down as lady-like as possible and ate as fast as she could without looking like she was shoveling food down her throat.

  Harry was contented only for a while and soon tried to rile her up some more. When she was watching, he dropped a knife full of butter on the ground.

  “Oops. I guess you’ll have to go make more butter, Cathy.” But his joke was rewarded with a chuff to the back of his head by William. Even her younger sister Anne had frowned at him.

  “Since when is wasting food and making fun of your sister part of the chivalric code? You shall not go riding tomorrow,” their mother declared. “I honestly don’t know when the both of you became this misbehaved.”

  “I haven’t done anything,” Catherine muttered under her breath, but luckily her mother didn’t hear.

  By the end of summer, Catherine had managed to learn a lot more about the dairy. That feeling of satisfaction at the end of the day only got better. She put aside her displeasure and focused on the work itself.

  She was now able to make white cheese herself and knew how to churn butter, although this was her least favorite task. She helped the steward keep track of the records and ordered salt when supplies were running low. So while she still took every opportunity she had to sit by the river and read, she no longer felt working in dairy was such a struggle.

  The world never stayed the same for too long, though. In October, just as the harvest was beginning, a messenger arrived from the court with a formal invitation for Lady Catherine Carey to take up her post as Lady-in-Waiting to the new Queen of England.

  Catherine had remained silent beyond accepting it and thanking the messenger until he disappeared.

  Her mother was ready for her questions when she turned to her.

  “So it’s true? I’m going to court?”

  “Yes, I have ordered gowns made for you.”

  “You have?”

  “They should arrive within the next few days, and I shall have to see you packed and ready to leave within the month. I am sure the ladies are all pouring into court now.”

  “And who is the Queen? Who is he marrying?” Catherine had not heard yet.

  “He’s marrying Anne of Cleaves, she’s making her way over to England now.”

  “Another Queen Anne?” Catherine gaped.

  Mary nodded, looking away. “Anyways we shall have a lot to discuss. You don’t have to spend all day in the dairy anymore. You’ll need to practice your dancing.”

  “I’ll work there in the mornings. I’m helpful.”

  Catherine saw her mother raise an eyebrow but agreed.

  After the gowns had arrived and her mother had her fitted to them, she took her for a walk in the gardens.

  “You are going to court for several reasons, but the most important is that you are to serve your family.”

  “How?”

  “With your eyes and ears — mostly.” She smiled. “Your uncle needs you to keep an eye on Jane Rochford and report to him anything you hear.”

  “What would I hear?”

  “Anything you think is important. It could be that the King had a fight with the Queen or with one of his advisors. It could be silly such as the King flirting with someone. Basically, anything that pertains to the King, Queen, the King’s advisor, Lady Mary or any of our family you are to report to him.”

  “I shall be a spy?” Catherine’s eyes gleamed.

  “No, of course not. Goodness you should not be so excited by such a thing. You are there to serve the Queen. Only if you happen to overhear something you are to report it. That’s what your uncle would like.”

  “And you?

  “I would prefer you stay as far from the court as possible. There are too many ways for a young girl to get caught up in trouble.”

  Her mother went rigid as if she had been struck. She peered down at her, taking hold of her hands. She looked as though she was trying to see into Catherine’s very soul.

  “You won’t dance and flirt with young handsome men. It would be unseemly.”

  “I won’t dance unless I have to,” Catherine promised. “I’ll be the living embodiment of modesty.”

  “Good. If I or your uncle hears any rumors about you, then you will be taken away from court.”

  “I have no interest in boys,” Catherine repeated. That much was true. She tended to avoid Harry these days. Boys were annoying and tedious.

  “And Lady Rochford? What am I supposed to be watching her for?” Catherine suddenly remembered.

  “Just that she is reporting everything and not whispering with other people about family secrets.”

  Catherine was a bit confused.

  “I warned you before about her. She is a vile cunning woman and you cannot trust her. But you also cannot take your eyes off of her either, or who knows what trouble she will cause. Just make sure she is not up to some sort of trouble, understood?”

  “Yes, Lady Mother.”

  Although Catherine was not very clear at all about what she was supposed to be watching out for. What trouble would she be causing?

  “It’s important to keep things to yourself too. Don’t repeat what you hear to anyone but your uncle. Information is powerful.”

  Catherine nodded. She knew this already.

  It was not long before the country was filled with rumors about the new queen. Reports had come in saying that she was gracious and beautiful. There were other reports too that she had been the K
ing’s only option since none of the French Princesses would have him.

  Catherine didn’t blame them.

  As the Queen’s retinue was nearing Calais, she would meet with the other ladies at Westminster then travel with them to Calais to greet the Queen and begin serving her.

  Her trunk of dresses and her two new gowns were packed away. Her mother giving her instructions up until the last possible moment.

  “Mother, I shall be fine.” Catherine was getting anxious to leave just to escape her mother’s insistent warnings and advice.

  “Mary, she will be alright.” William, her stepfather, appeared at his wife’s side, taking her arm.

  “Be safe,” Mary said.

  Those were the last words Catherine heard as she was helped on her horse and began the journey to London.

  Chapter Six

  Being safe would be easy, or so Catherine thought. Being a good lady-in-waiting would be another. She hoped beyond hope that she wouldn’t embarrass herself.

  The city was larger than Catherine remembered it, perhaps because the last time she had journeyed through they had rushed through the main street, up to the palace.

  She kept her gaze purposefully away from the direction of the Tower of London. She had spied its crenellations and immediately recognized it. It was like an ever-present threat looming over everyone. She didn’t know how they could bare it.

  In the courtyard, stable boys leapt up to help her from her horse, and she gave her letter of invitation to a porter who escorted her to the Queen’s rooms, promising that her trunks would follow her too.

  Since the Queen had not taken up residence yet, there were no guards posted on the doors, nor did she need a formal introduction. Besides a brief hesitation, she entered the double doors.

  A very different sight greeted her from what she imagined. Several unknown ladies were perched around the rooms, chatting away in tight knit groups. Others were playing cards, while the new arrivals were trying to get themselves settled.

  They all looked her way as she entered. A vaguely familiar face approached her in the awkward silence that ensued.

  “Ah! This is my beautiful niece Catherine Carey.”

  “Lady Rochford.” Catherine curtseyed coolly, identifying her aunt.

  It made her laugh. “There’s no need for such formality between family, is there?” And pulled her into a hug.

  “I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

  Lady Rutland was the first to step forward. She was a senior lady at court, and, besides her own aunt, the most seasoned — having served two queens previously.

  After introductions were concluded, Catherine was told she would be sharing a room with the younger ladies of the household, including a cousin of hers, Katherine Howard.

  “This shall make things difficult,” Katherine Howard pouted. “I wanted to be the only Katherine.”

  Catherine was taken aback by such silliness. “Well I am Catherine Carey, and you are a Howard. That’s quite different. You can call me Cate if you want.”

  “Oh that’s ever so nice. At least I won’t ever forget your name!” Katherine said, giggling. “It’s so hard to remember everyone’s name. I never expected court to be filled with so many people! And such handsome gentlemen everywhere you look. You haven’t been to dinner but you will see. You can call me Kitty if you want, although I prefer Katherine, it is much more becoming.”

  Catherine smiled. She was getting the impression that her cousin, though close in age to her, was too foolish and silly for her tastes. Unfortunately, four ladies would be sleeping in this room, and, since there was hardly any space in the palace, this would not change any time soon.

  Katherine escaped before long, wanting to find some sort of amusement. Catherine sat on her bed, wishing to sleep for a moment after the long journey.

  Before they had to dress for dinner, she let her cousin take her around the palace. It was rare to find an empty corridor and people always seemed to be running around, doing something important.

  There were more servants in the kitchens alone than there had been in all of Rochford Hall. She had always thought her old home was a grand place, but it was nothing when compared to Westminster. This wasn’t even the greatest of the King’s residences.

  The palace, the people — as Catherine was taking it all in, she knew her eyes were wide with amazement, her stride jerky and uncertain. They had just begun.

  The castle ran like clockwork — an army of servants followed a grueling schedule to ensure that everything was precisely as the King wished it to be. It varied sometimes, but there was always something that needed to be cleaned, a fire to be stoked, a roast to be marinated.

  Rules for how this was to be done governed the lives of both the courtiers and the servants alike. You couldn’t just do things when you wanted to. Dinner was served at an appointed time. The King would go hunting at a certain hour, and if you were late you were out of luck.

  Finally, they returned to the Queen’s rooms. Catherine was trying to puzzle out how she would ever be able to keep track of all of this when Katherine came in to change for dinner. She followed suit and changed into one of her finer gowns. It was one of her favorites. A warm burgundy bodice and skirt trimmed with black fur that revealed the petticoat beneath. The petticoat she picked was embroidered with a pattern of squares containing images of birds and flowers alternating between black and red silk.

  She followed the other ladies and took up her seat in the great hall — a table set out especially for the ladies and maids in waiting. It was a place of honor due to its closeness to the great dais where the King and Queen would eat.

  The court did not have to wait long for the King to make his appearance. Before long the trumpeters announced his arrival and they all stood.

  She watched with near horror as the King entered and took his seat beneath the cloth of estate. It had been a little bit over three years since she had last seen him, but he seemed to have doubled in size.

  “Look at the broach in his hat!” Katherine whispered in her ear. “I would do anything for ruby of that size.”

  Catherine shook her head. She couldn’t get past his jowls to focus on anything else.

  She also learned she would have to pace herself, as dish after dish was brought into the Hall.

  The King ate from everything with a ferocious appetite calling for more wine and more food. Occasionally, he would send a dish to some of his favorites dining below. Once he had eaten his fill, he called for some music and dancing.

  Catherine watched his eyes turning towards their table. His gaze focused on hers for a moment as if he recognized her but couldn’t quite place her. Catherine looked away; there was no need to draw the attention of her unacknowledged father. By her side Kitty was shifting in her seat, then suddenly looked down with a giggle.

  “What is it?” Catherine asked.

  “Did you see the King look at me?” she said. “Perhaps he will ask me for a dance.”

  “Hardly likely.” Another girl interjected as she sat up straighter preening herself. “He would rather choose me than a silly little girl like you.”

  Catherine could see Kitty ready to jump out at her and grabbed her hand under the table.

  The King indeed danced with them. First he chose Lady Rutland, then took Kitty out for a quick jig. Catherine could see how he tried to hide the wince of pain as he did some of the more complicated moves.

  He laughed when the dance was over, covering up the fact he was left so out of breath.

  “I should rest and save myself for my beautiful betrothed. But continue dancing for us ladies.” He all but hobbled back to his great seat.

  Catherine saw how everyone pretended to have seen nothing. This was how the game was played.

  Kitty did not return to her seat. Several gentlemen vied for her attention — after all, she was a striking beauty with her blonde hair and dark eyes. More than that, she was flirtatious and inviting. Catherine did not know how she managed it
nor who had taught her to act this coquettishly. Was she not concerned about her reputation?

  She was surprised to feel a pang of jealousy at the attention her younger cousin was getting, but, at the same time, she was more concerned with blending in and remaining anonymous in this court. Bringing attention upon herself was dangerous.

  By the time she reached her bed, it was after midnight. They would begin their travels to Rochford then to Calais provided the sea was calm. A fleet of ships was being prepared to accompany them to the new Queen.

  “Girls, wake up!”

  A loud shout made Catherine jump in her bed. She blinked away the confusion and focused her sight on the woman in the door way. Lady Brown was there with her hands on her hips, looking displeased.

  “You were up too late dancing around. This will teach you to go to bed at an appropriate time.”

  Catherine could hear Kitty giggling in the bed beside her.

  “Well get up and dressed — we are to leave soon, and if you aren’t ready then you shall be left behind.”

  The girls all leapt out of bed. There was a lot of digging around trunks and scrambling to get dressed as they took turns lacing each other into their sleeves and petticoats. Servants filed in after each had left and packed away their trunks to be carried along with them to their destination.

  Catherine was one of the first out of the rooms, dressed in a dark green gown suitable for riding, as it wouldn’t show the dirt on the hem as much and the thick material would keep her warm. Around her neck was the pearl necklace her mother had given her.

  She had seen Kitty eyeing it when she had taken it out of its locked case. She didn’t think she had too much in the way of possessions, but she supposed she had more than Kitty.

  With the ladies assembled, they set out towards a courtyard where a select group of Lords and Gentlemen had arranged themselves with their households. Catherine was given a horse from the King’s stable to ride and a groom cupped his hands together to help her leap into the saddle. He gave her a smile, but she flushed and looked away, ignoring him. She wasn’t a giggly chit like Kitty.

 

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