The Lady Carey

by Anne R Bailey

  “I am finding it harder and harder to find an excuse to be by your side.”

  “I think you have a good one.” Catherine flashed him a coy smile as they walked through the gardens. Ahead of her Kitty was strolling arm in arm with the King.

  “What is it? For if I knew then you would make my life easier.”

  “Well, it is obvious isn’t it? We are to be married, after all.”

  Catherine laughed when he stumbled mid-step. The King turned round to see what had happened and scolded Francis for being so clumsy.

  Taking pity on him, she took his arm and waited for him to catch his breath.

  “So have I made you fall in love with me?”

  Catherine scrunched up her nose. “Hardly. But you are a good prospect.” She leaned in closer to him. “And I find you handsome.”

  He gently pinched the hand resting on his arm. “You are a cruel mistress.”

  Catherine grinned, she was always ready to tease him. It made her feel excited to know that she had captured his attention so fully that he was chasing after her.

  These were dark days for Anne, she could see her ladies slipping away from her, but there was nothing for her to do but continue on as if nothing had happened. There was nothing she could say as the accusations began.

  It started with the unraveling of a plot in Calais that would somehow have the town handed over to the French. Lord Lisle found himself locked away in the Tower along with Bishop Sampson. All supporters and admirers of the Queen.

  That day, Anne Basset had the good sense to disappear from her rooms. Her mother, Lady Lisle, was locked away in her rooms, sick with dread.

  Then the Duke of Norfolk finally had the revenge he was craving. On the tenth of June, Thomas Cromwell, the newly made Earl of Essex was thrown into the Tower for committing treason against his highness.

  Catherine wondered if her uncle could even feel joy at his victory. He would be the King’s chief advisor now. But did he not stop to think that he too could be pulled down?

  She returned that evening to find Kitty ordering some servants to be careful with her trunks.

  “Where are you going Kitty?”

  “I am being sent back to Lambeth.” But she was not pouting or sad.

  “Whatever for?”

  “The King wants to send me away.”

  Catherine gave her a look. What was that supposed to mean?

  “To be safe.” She smiled. “Anyways I must go, there is a barge waiting for me.”

  Catherine stepped aside to let her walk past. She didn’t have to ask Kitty what she meant.

  She found Francis at his post at the entrance to the King’s privy chamber. He saw her pale face and called to his compatriot that he would be back in just a few moments and to excuse him if the King asked for him.

  “Catherine, what is it?” He had never used her Christian name before.

  “I am afraid.” Indeed she was trembling and she hid her hands in the wide sleeves of her grey gown.

  He nodded. “You have nothing to fear.”

  “I don’t want anything to happen to the Queen.” She leaned in to whisper in his ear.

  To anyone walking by they looked like a pair of lovers sharing sweet nothings.

  Francis grabbed her hands. “You cannot put yourself in danger.” He paused. “Catherine, look at me.”

  She finally met his eyes. “Swear to me you will not do or say anything to incriminate yourself.”

  “What is to happen to her?”

  He shook his head. “They may seek to simply annul the marriage.”

  Catherine bit her lip. “Katherine Howard left court today.”

  “Perhaps you should as well.”

  “Not yet, I cannot leave her alone.”

  “Swear to me you will not do anything, or I shall write to your mother and have you sent from here.” He persisted.

  “I promise.” But she had to look away, knowing she was likely lying.

  “You are my betrothed and I am honor bound to stop you from putting yourself in danger.”

  Catherine frowned. “You told me before that you wished me to love you.”

  “That is true.”

  “Well, how can I love a man who would turn his back on an innocent woman so easily?”

  “Because it is not as simple as that, as you well know. We must look out for ourselves.” He gave a heavy sigh. “Especially if there is nothing we could do. Who can stop the King? Will the Queen’s brother protect her? Unlikely. Think of the northerners who rose up and were struck down with the King’s pardon in their pockets.” He gave her a little shake. “Come to your senses, Catherine, or I swear I will drag you away from court this very day.”

  “Fine. But I shall stay by her side for as long as I dare,” Catherine swore.

  “Think of yourself and your family first.” He placed a kiss on her forehead. “That is how you survive in this cruel world.”

  She pushed away from him. “Would you set me aside for your own safety then?”

  “Never. You will be my wife and I love you already.”

  “I still haven’t agreed.”

  “You will.” His confidence was endearing, but she said nothing as they both turned to hear approaching steps down the hall.

  It was the Duke of Norfolk, fresh from the King’s rooms.

  “Ah, Lady Carey. I would have a word with you.” He ignored Francis completely and Francis retreated a more respectable distance away from them.

  Catherine curtseyed to him and nodded, playing the part of an obedient girl. She walked by his side as he told her what he expected from her.

  “I need you to make sure the Queen doesn’t send any messages.”

  She didn’t bother arguing. “I’ll do what I can, but I am just one person.”

  “Don’t worry, I have others watching as well.” He spared a moment to look at Francis behind them. “Perhaps you shall retreat from court for your wedding.”

  Catherine straightened, fighting the urge to protest yet again. She would do what she liked or she would try to. She hated the feeling of being commanded, especially by her uncle.

  Returning to the Queen’s rooms, she found the silence eerie. The household had been cut down sharply as women had fled for one reason or another. Now, with Kitty Howard — the loudest and most flamboyant of them — gone, the emptiness was felt more.

  With purpose, Catherine took a window seat with her embroidery to begin the dull work of stitching the hem of a shirt with gold thread.

  Queen Anne was closeted away in her prie dieu, no doubt praying on her knees for guidance and protection. When she finally appeared with Mistress Loew at her side, she looked as though she had emerged from her sick bed. Her eyes swept over those still in her rooms, could she trust any of them?

  Lady Rochford jumped to her feet sweeping her a curtsey. “Would like to call for some music or play cards?”

  “No, Lady Rochford.” Her eyes focused in on Catherine. “I think I shall sew. Perhaps you can go fetch my ambassador Karl Harst to come see me.” This was a command and Lady Rochford hesitated to go. She wanted to hear what was going to be said. Catherine caught her glaring at her and smiled in return.

  With a swish of her gown, she disappeared.

  Anne, trying to maintain a sense of decorum, sat near Catherine, and Mistress Loew handed her the piece she was working on.

  For once, it was Catherine who spoke first. She did not dare look up or speak too loudly, lest the other ladies who were sitting farther away overheard. They trusted her not to say anything, though, for she was a Howard — her loyalty would be to Kitty Howard, or it should be at least.

  “You must give the King whatever he wishes.” She picked up another piece of thread looking as absentminded as possible.

  Anne leaned forward as if investigating the thread’s color. “What does he wish for?”

  “To put you aside.”

  This Anne had suspected and known for some time but it was quite a different thi
ng to hear.

  “But we were married before God. It would be a sin to say otherwise.”

  “So was Catherine of Aragon, so was the other Queen. If you aren’t amicable then you will share their fates. I can say no more.” Catherine saw Lady Rochford slide back into the room.

  Anne nodded.

  “Your grace, the ambassador is detained at the moment, he shall join you shortly.”

  At this Anne jumped. “What? Where he is?” There was no hiding the worry in her voice.

  “The King is meeting with him.”

  “I see.”

  Catherine could have slapped Lady Rochford for her cruelty, and the malicious smile spread over her face at having caused the Queen to panic. Anne did not see it that way, though, and invited her to sit with them.

  They spent a week pretending that nothing had happened. The King, claiming to be feeling ill, kept to his chambers and did not greet Queen Anne on her way to chapel as he usually did in the mornings. At dinner his place in the dining hall remained empty.

  The courtiers were lapping up the dramatic turn of events. They waited like salivating dogs for their master to throw them the bone.

  The first blow was struck when Catherine’s Lord Chamberlin, Lord Rutland came into her rooms with an order from the King for her household to leave for Richmond.

  “Why?” Perhaps this wasn’t the most polite question.

  “There is plague in the city and the King fears for your health.”

  “Is he coming too?”

  “I am sure he will join you after he has concluded business here.”

  “Very well. I am happy to do whatever the King asks of me.”

  For Catherine, she knew this was just the beginning. It scared her to think that Catherine of Aragon had been sent away just like this and it had been the start of a long exile that ended with her in the grave.

  Catherine was starting to lose her nerve in the silence of Richmond. Despite the grand palace they were kept in, she felt the emptiness of Richmond was suffocating her. They were served by a barebones court. Anne’s Lord Chamberlin had stayed back, and she now only had a handful of female attendants and a gentlemen of the chamber to light the fires and carry out more menial tasks.

  Still, Anne maintained the illusion nothing was wrong and that she was awaiting the King who had promised to join her soon.

  Karl Harst finally made his appearance, too, and they strolled through the palace gardens. Mistress Loew walking behind them to keep some distance between them and the other ladies so Catherine did not hear what was being said. But she knew it was nothing good, for the Queen could not manage a smile for him when he departed later that afternoon.

  A few days later, when Catherine received a note from Francis, she could nearly cry from relief.

  “Tell me if you’ll have me and I will come take you away. – Yours, Francis”

  She hesitated to reply; though her head told her to say yes and leave immediately, her heart hurt for Anne who would feel even more abandoned now. There was another letter that followed from her mother. It was the second time she had written to Catherine since she had arrived to court.

  “You are to come home as soon as the Queen can spare you. I am feeling ill and need your help.”

  Finally, it was Lady Rochford who pushed her out the door with threats. She found her during dinner and took a seat by her side.

  “Dearest niece, why do you linger here?”

  “I am serving the Queen,” she replied simply. Catherine straightened in her seat, trying to appear as immovable as a statue.

  “Your family needs you more now.”

  When Catherine did not reply, she pressed onwards.

  “I wonder if you are thwarting our efforts in some way,” she hissed in her ear.

  “I have done nothing,” Catherine lied.

  “You haven’t slipped some advice or warning in the Queen’s ear? You are so often alone together.” A pause. “Anyone might suspect something. Perhaps the two of you are plotting.”

  Catherine leapt around, glaring at her treacherous aunt. “I am loyal to the King. You are vile for insinuating anything. The Duke of Buckingham put me here.”

  “Yes, and I do believe he instructed you to leave now. Perhaps you should go before you end up creating more trouble for yourself and her. Who knows what people will report to the King or what plots can be concocted.”

  Catherine gulped. Her decision was made, but she didn’t let Lady Rochford know that she had gotten under her skin.

  That evening, she sent a messenger to Francis asking him to come fetch her home. Then she went to the Queen with her mother’s message. She hoped Queen Anne would understand, but there was also little she could help her with anyways.

  “Of course, you must go to your mother. I pray that she recovers swiftly.”

  “I shall return to you when I can,” Catherine promised, hoping against all hope that Anne would find a way to escape unharmed. She did not deserve the King’s cruelty.

  Francis arrived the very next day. A small retinue of Howard men and a lady in tow for propriety’s sake. Their reunion was a cold one. As he cupped his hands to help her into the saddle, he tried catching her attention, but she stoutly avoided his gaze.

  As they left the courtyard Francis rode up beside her.

  “Lady Carey, why are you upset with me?”

  “I am ashamed that I am running away. I thought I was stronger than this.”

  He nodded. “But it also takes strength to walk away. Everyone will protect their own skin. That is the truth of the world we live in.”

  “It doesn’t sound like a very honorable one.”

  “Perhaps not.”

  They traveled until nightfall, where they rested at an inn. They would have stayed at a monastery, but its doors were barred and it was empty. The King’s reformation had silenced the monks inside forever.

  When they arrived at Rochford Hall, Mary greeted her with an unusual amount of affection, pulling her into her arms.

  “I am glad to see you have returned to me safely.”

  Catherine knelt for her mother’s blessing. “I am happy to see you too, Lady Mother.”

  Her mother turned to Francis and also thanked him for seeing her safely home.

  “Will you stay for dinner?”

  “I shall return to my mother’s house for the time being.” And he turned his horse back the way they had come in.

  He was out of sight before Catherine could protest.

  “He’ll be back. We are making preparations for your wedding.”

  Catherine’s eyebrows scrunched up. “So soon?”

  “We thought it would be prudent.”

  “We?”

  “Your stepfather and I. He is a good match. In the King’s good graces, a gentleman of a respectable fortune and a reformer.”

  Catherine had not known that about him. Although her family followed the King’s reformed faith, they had always been staunchly Catholic. The way she prayed changed so often that Catherine did not much care for either as long as the King wouldn’t say they were heretics.

  “So now you will have his protection or he yours, whichever way the wind blows.”

  The methodical way in which her mother had chosen her husband left a bad taste in her mouth. She tried not to doubt Francis’ feelings towards her. She craved to be wanted for herself, not for political expedience.

  Chapter Eleven

  Even as they fitted her for a wedding gown, she waited for news to come from Richmond or the court. How was Anne? Had she been entrapped into saying something that would land her in the Tower?

  Finally, they heard that the divorce proceedings had went surprisingly smooth. It had been over within three days. The former Queen, after a moment of hesitation and protest, had agreed to sign the papers put before her by the council.

  It turned out she had indeed been pre-contracted, though she had sworn otherwise before her marriage. Now she was embarrassed again with the annulment
of her marriage, but she was rewarded handsomely for complying so easily. She would be known as the King’s Sister and was welcomed to stay in England for as long as she chose.

  “The King settled a small fortune on her. Including Richmond Palace,” William said, reading the letter he received from a cousin.

  “She will be happy there,” Catherine said, happy to know that she would not have to return to Cleves. “And the King? Has he married Kitty?”

  This time her mother spoke, she had little Elizabeth in her arms. “He probably has but in secret. It’s his way. You shall have to return to court to serve her.”

  Catherine balked at that. How could she bear it?

  As if reading her mind, Mary chastised her. “You will be grateful for the position your uncle has been kind enough to give you.”

  “Yes, Mother.”

  Her wedding was a small family affair. She wanted nothing else. The contracts between the families were finalized and signed. Her dowry would be transferred to Francis, and her jointure was settled upon her as well.

  Francis has two houses of his own and would inherit a third upon his mother’s death. As a pensioner of the King’s, he also received a yearly allowance from the royal treasury, so he was not a pauper by any means.

  Her mother explained this to her with a happy gleam in her eye.

  She was happy to see her daughter so well settled, despite her dubious parentage and the stain of disgrace that remained on the family. Now with the King marrying another Howard girl, Francis’s own mother was happy to overlook these impediments.

  But Catherine was less concerned about wealth and status. It appeared she had inherited her mother’s desire for love. He had always shown he cared for her, but she was still uncertain of how genuine it was. After all, she had seen all too often how empty words could be.

  They were married from their local chapel.

  Her mother and stepfather, as well as his family, were all in attendance as witnesses. Harry had been unable to attend at such short notice.

  Catherine and Francis knelt before the priest in their best clothes. She fidgeted with the gold chain of the girdle around her waist which prompted Francis to squeeze her hand in reassurance.