Love, Remember Me

by Bertrice Small

  Varian watched this exchange between the two people he loved the most in all the world, excepting his children, marveling at how alike and yet how dissimilar his grandfather and his wife were. In time, he thought, these two might even become friends, providing they all survived the debacle of Catherine Howard.

  Nyssa went to their bedchamber and told Tillie her news. “You need not go with me,” she said. “If you choose, I will send you home, and hold no grudge against you for going.”

  Tillie pursed her lips. “I’ll not leave you, m’lady. Why, me aunt Heartha would have me hide if I did. Besides, this new adventure will give me something to tell my grandchildren one day.”

  “You must have children to have grandchildren,” Nyssa teased her tiring woman. “Have you a husband in mind, Tillie?”

  “Aye,” she admitted. “That Toby of his lordship’s will do me nicely when we get back to Winterhaven, m’lady. He’s shy, and a bit slow, but I see ’im eyeing me. It’s time we both settled down.”

  Nyssa chuckled. Poor Toby, she thought. His fate was already sealed, though she would wager he did not yet know it. Still, he and Tillie would make an excellent pair. She explained to her servant that she could have but six changes of clothing, as that would be all the queen was allowed, and her garments must be plain, without adornment. Together they chose velvet skirts in black, a rich golden brown, deep blue, forest-green, violet, and orange-tawny. The matching underskirts were of plain satin and satin brocade. The duke found a seamstress among his household who helped Tillie remove the magnificent adornments from Nyssa’s bodices, rendering them simple, with naught but gold or silver embroidery about the necklines. There were petticoats and chemises of cotton, lawn, wool, and silk; knitted stockings; and a single fur-lined cloak. Nyssa took no jewelry with her, wearing only a small gold and pearl crucifix about her neck, and her wedding band.

  “You’ll be needing French hoods,” Tillie said. “You know the queen likes her ladies to wear them.”

  “They can’t be jeweled,” Nyssa said.

  “We’ll make them up new with just a bit of gold, m’lady,” the seamstress said helpfully.

  “Thank you,” Nyssa told her.

  Within the two days’ time, her wardrobe was ready, and on the morning of the thirteenth of November, Nyssa joined Kate Carey and Bessie FitzGerald for their trip to Syon House in Middlesex. They would go by barge from Whitehall. The queen would travel in the same fashion from Hampton Court in the company of Lord and Lady Baynton. It took all the courage she had to kiss her husband good-bye, but Nyssa managed to keep her composure. Then Varian and the Duke of Norfolk escorted her down to the Water Stairs, where her two companions waited. She did not look back as the barge moved upriver, making its way into Middlesex.

  The three young women sat within the comfortable cabin. A small brazier heated the space. Kate and Bessie were very quiet as they traveled along. The two girls did not know what to say under the circumstances. Finally Kate said, “Do you think she really cuckolded the king?”

  “I think she may have,” Bessie said low, then turned to Nyssa. “Remember how she was always disappearing from her bedchamber at night when we were on progress? She would not come back for hours.”

  “How do you know that?” Nyssa asked her. God’s boots, Cat had been appallingly indiscreet. Obviously everyone knew, but no one dared to say anything. She felt better about withholding her own knowledge.

  “You were with your husband, I forgot,” Bessie said. “Several nights she would disappear about eleven o’clock, and not return until three or four in the morning. I was always awakened by her return.”

  “I have heard,” Bessie continued, “that Lady Rochford went mad when they took her to the Tower. They say she cackles, and babbles to herself all the time. I even heard that she talks to her dead husband, George Boleyn, and to his sister, Anne. They have taken everything from her, for they fear she will harm herself before they may hear her testimony.”

  “What good will testimony be from a madwoman?” Nyssa wondered.

  “She has some lucid moments,” Bessie replied. “I think they plan to question her during one of those times.”

  “You realize that the queen will be found guilty,” Nyssa said.

  “What do you know?” Kate demanded.

  “I know nothing,” Nyssa answered. “But it is obvious from the way things are going that Cat’s reign is over. The question remains as to whether they will kill her, or not.”

  “If the king is angry enough,” Kate said, “he will show her no mercy at all.” Kate’s mother was Mary Boleyn, who before her sister, Anne, had been the king’s mistress. It was believed that Kate’s eldest brother, Henry, was the king’s son, but the king had never acknowledged him.

  The young women fell silent again. The cityscape had given way to the rural landscape of Middlesex. The leafless trees were silhouetted black against the gray November sky. There was no wind, and the Thames ran dark and smooth. Rounding a bend in the river, they saw Syon House. Until recently it had been a convent. There seemed to be a macabre humor in incarcerating Catherine Howard here. The barge nosed its way into the quai serving Syon House. Upon landing they learned that the queen had not yet arrived.

  The majordomo assigned to Syon led them to the apartment assigned to the queen. It consisted of three rooms, and was furnished modestly. There was a bedchamber for the queen, with a small dressing room, as well as a dayroom and a small dining room where they could eat.

  “Where will we sleep?” Nyssa demanded of the majordomo.

  Recognizing the tone of authority in her voice, he said politely, “A single chamber has been set aside for the ladies, madame.”

  “I am the Countess of March,” Nyssa told the man. “Is there a dressing room for us to store our garments in and where our tiring women may sleep, sir? I realize our purpose here is serious, still, we must have some small comforts.” She favored him with a smile.

  “The room is spacious, with its own fireplace for warmth, m’lady, and there is not just a dressing room, but a smaller interior room for your servants.” He bowed, and then asked, “Might I know the identities of the other two ladies?”

  Nyssa nodded graciously. “This is the king’s niece, Mistress Katherine Carey, and Lady Elizabeth FitzGerald, sir.”

  The majordomo bowed politely to the trio. “May I welcome you to Syon, my ladies,” he said. “Allow me to show you your own quarters.”

  He led them from the queen’s small apartments down the hallway and opened an oak door, beckoning them into a large square room, the walls of which were done in a linen-fold paneling. A bowed window with leaded panes and a window seat looked out upon the river. There was a fine fireplace in the room, and opposite it, a good-sized bed hung with tapestry curtains, dark green on natural linen. The draperies at the windows were heavy, dark green velvet.

  “The bed will sleep two comfortably, m’lady,” he addressed Nyssa, as the senior in rank of the three. “There is a fine trundle beneath that can be pulled out to sleep a third person.”

  “Excellent,” she said to him. “I assume there is a trundle beneath the queen’s bed as well, for one of us will always be with her.”

  “Aye, m’lady, and Lord and Lady Baynton have their own bedchamber.”

  “Very good, then,” Nyssa answered him. “Since the queen is not yet come downriver from Hampton Court, will you have our baggage brought in so we may settle ourselves? Please notify us the moment the queen’s barge is sighted. We must be at the quai to welcome her.”

  “Yes, m’lady,” he said, and departed.

  Kate and Bessie had elected to share a single tiring woman between them. Her name was Mavis, and she was a motherly, older woman. She and Tillie had hit it off immediately. The two women chatted amiably as they unpacked and stored away their mistresses’ clothing and other possessions. They were pleased with the tiny room, and with the good-sized bed that they would share. They considered their quarters quite luxurious. It bac
ked up on the large fireplace, and consequently would always be quite warm as long as the fire was going.

  While the servants worked to make their small quarters comfortable for them all, the three young women went out into the gardens of Syon House. Wandering about, they found some late roses, not yet touched by frost, blooming pink against a south-facing wall. They gathered the fragile blooms and brought them indoors to arrange in the queen’s dayroom, for they knew how much Cat would appreciate the little touch.

  The majordomo came to tell them that the queen’s barge had been sighted. They hurried down to the quai to greet their old friend.

  “I wonder how she is feeling,” Kate said.

  Nyssa wondered too. She did not know whether to be shocked or surprised when Catherine, stepping from her barge, greeted them as if there were nothing wrong at all and she was not in a fight for her very life. She kissed and hugged each of them in turn, expressing her delight that they were to be with her.

  “I suppose you are most put out with me, Nyssa,” she said with her most winning smile. “I know that you hoped to be home at your beloved RiversEdge for the twelve days of Christmas.”

  “I am not in the least distressed, Your Grace. I am honored that you would ask me to serve you in your trying hour,” Nyssa replied.

  “Henry is most put out with me,” Cat said, linking her arm in Nyssa’s and walking up to the house with her. “I wrote him a very beautiful letter. I am certain that he will forgive me eventually. In the meantime he will isolate me here in the deep country to punish me, but,” she laughed gaily, “we will make ourselves a most marvelous twelve days of Christmas, won’t we? It shall be like when we were all children. No cares, and no gentlemen to worry us.”

  Nyssa could hardly believe what she was hearing. Did not Cat understand the seriousness of her position? Obviously she did not.

  “Lady Rochford, they say, has gone mad,” she said quietly.

  “I am so relieved to be rid of her,” Cat exclaimed. “She was always badgering me. I thought she was nice, but she is really quite nasty. ’Tis no wonder she never remarried. Who would have her?”

  They entered the house, but when the queen saw her apartment, she immediately complained. “This really will not do! I cannot be expected to live in such cramped quarters. Oh, damn Henry! He is just doing this to be mean!” She whirled about and said to Edward Baynton, “My lord, you must write to the king and tell him I need more space.”

  “The king believes he has provided generously for you, Your Grace,” the chamberlain answered the queen stiffly. “I cannot complain to him.”

  “Oh, very well,” Cat said. “I shall write him myself.”

  “Perhaps we shall not be here very long,” Nyssa said gently, attempting to cajole the queen. “By the time you write to the king, and he thinks it over and then answers you, your circumstances may have changed for the better, Your Grace.”

  “That was very nicely done,” Lady Baynton said to her afterward. “You know how to handle her, and I am most grateful for it, Lady de Winter. Despite it all, she is imperious, and very difficult.”

  “She is afraid,” Nyssa said.

  “You would not know it,” Lady Baynton replied.

  “No,” Nyssa answered the good woman. “She does not show it. She is a Howard, after all.”

  Henry Manox, the lutanist from the dowager duchess’s household, was the first person to be questioned by the Privy Council. He readily admitted to attempting to seduce Catherine Howard when she was but twelve and a half years of age. “She was very well-formed for a girl of her tender years,” he related. “She had the breasts of a maid of sixteen, I’ll vow, my lords.”

  “Did you know her in the biblical sense?” the Duke of Suffolk questioned the man. “The truth now! Your life is at stake,” he warned.

  Manox shook his head. “I was the first man ever to handle her. With an untried maid, one must go slowly,” he explained to them. “ ’Tis like introducing a mare to the bridle for the first time. By the time I had her accustomed to it, she bolted and threw herself at that bloody Dereham. For all my trouble, and time, he was the one to have her maidenhead, damn him! Even so, I’d have liked a bit of her. She had a great taste for passion, did Cat!

  “I tried to rid myself of the Dereham fellow so she would have to come back to me, but I failed, alas. I told the old dowager that if she were to pretend to retire at her usual time, and then an hour later visit the dormitory where Mistress Catherine Howard slept, she would see something that would both displease and shock her.”

  “And did she go?” the Duke of Norfolk asked sharply.

  “Nay,” Manox said. “She smacked my face, and said I was nothing but a troublemaker, and I would lose my living and her patronage if I did not cease my wicked and scandalous innuendo. I could do nothing more.”

  The Duke of Norfolk’s narrow lips stretched themselves narrower in a grimace of disapproval. His stepmother had behaved very, very stupidly.

  The Privy Council debated. They decided that Henry Manox could be of no real help to them. He was obviously not important in the scheme of things. To the musician’s great relief, he was released from custody and sent on his way. He disappeared from London soon after, and was never heard from again.

  The Privy Council next called Mistress Katherine Tylney, the chamberer who had been with the queen both before and after her elevation. She was a very distant relation of the queen, a plain young woman with nothing special to recommend her.

  “You have been with Catherine Howard for some time, is that not so?” the Duke of Suffolk asked the woman.

  “Aye,” she said. “Since we were girls at Horsham. She, of course, being a Howard, was of better birth than I was. I considered myself fortunate to go up to Lambeth with her.”

  “What kind of girl was she?” the duke queried further.

  “Headstrong,” came the blunt reply. “Catherine Howard must always have her own way in everything. Not that she wasn’t pleasant about it, for she was. And she has a good heart, but she is headstrong.”

  “What happened on progress this summer, Mistress Tylney?”

  “Please be more specific, my lord,” she asked him.

  “Tell us about the queen’s behavior,” Suffolk gently prodded her. “Was she all that a good wife should be to her husband, or was she perhaps duplicitous in her conduct toward the king?”

  “Actually, she began behaving strangely in the spring,” Katherine Tylney said, now given the direction they required her to go in. “At Lincoln the encampment was set up complete with the royal pavilion, but the king and queen stayed in the castle. Two nights during our stay the queen left her room late, usually after eleven o’clock. She did not return until four or five in the morning.”

  “Do you know where she went?” Suffolk said, and his companions on the Privy Council leaned forward to hear what the young woman would say.

  “Lady Rochford had rooms two flights up from the queen’s own apartments. The first time the queen left, she took Margaret Morton and me with her. When she reached Lady Rochford’s chambers, she sent us away and then entered. I heard the door’s bolt thrown. The second time she went, she only asked me to come with her. I was required to sit outside of Lady Rochford’s chamber with Lady Rochford’s servant that time. Again we did not return until five o’clock in the morning. I was most uncomfortable, for the hallway was quite damp.”

  “Was Lady Rochford in the room with the queen?” Bishop Gardiner asked Mistress Tylney.

  “I do not know, my lord. The queen liked me, and so I think she trusted me more than some of the others. I was always taking odd messages to Lady Rochford, and returning with odder messages. It was not that the words were funny, it was just that I could make no sense of them at all.”

  “Was it possible that the queen was with Master Dereham?” Suffolk wondered aloud.

  “Master Dereham did not join the progress until Pontefract, my lords,” Katherine Tylney said. “That would have been imp
ossible.”

  “Why did you not speak with someone about the queen’s strange behavior, Mistress Tylney?” the Duke of Norfolk asked her.

  Katherine Tylney looked at Duke Thomas as if he were mad. “Who was I to go to, my lord? The king perhaps? And what was I to say, sir? That his wife’s behavior was odd, and secretive? I am a simple chamberer in the queen’s household. I am a servant, not gentry. I had not the right to criticize the queen, and had I done so, neither the king, nor even you, my lord, would have believed me,” she said.

  “Thank you, Mistress Tylney, for your cooperation,” Suffolk answered. “You are now dismissed, but we may ask to speak with you again.”

  She curtsied to the Privy Council and was escorted from the hearing room back to her confinement.

  “Well, gentlemen,” Suffolk said, “what think you?”

  “It would appear that the queen was engaged in some sort of nefarious conduct,” the Earl of Southampton replied.

  “Aye, but exactly what, and with whom?” Lord Russell wondered.

  “I do not think there is any doubt as to what she was doing,” Lord Audley answered him. “The question is, with whom?”

  “I may have the answer to that question, my lords,” the archbishop told them. “I believe Thomas Culpeper is our miscreant, but I have not yet the proof I need. The queen seems very fond of him. He was on the summer progress for the entire four months. He would know her schedule as well as the king would know it, since he is a king’s man.”

  “My God, Cranmer!” Duke Thomas said. “Culpeper was practically raised in the king’s chambers. He came to court as a little lad to be a page. The king is deeply attached to him. It cannot be.”

  The archbishop shrugged. “My suspicions have been aroused.”

  “By whom?” demanded Norfolk.

  “Your niece herself, I fear,” Thomas Cranmer answered.

  “I think,” Suffolk said, “that we had best continue our questioning. We are next to speak with Margaret Morton, another chamberer.” The duke signaled to the guardsmen by the door. “Bring in Mistress Morton.”