‘It does, I believe.’ He flashed his great teeth again. ‘I like to travel, to discover new places.’
We had reached the mulberry tree, so we sat on the wooden bench. He stretched his arm along the back of the bench towards me. I slid along it, as far from my companion as I could manage. My original suspicions about his slippery character were correct. Looking down, I noticed a flash of pale yellow peeking up through the gap where the back of the bench joined its arm, which I leaned on. Studying it for a moment as I thought of something to say to this stranger, I realised that an embroidery skein had dropped by the side of the bench and had worked its way into a rose bush growing beside it. I leaned over and plucked it up between finger and thumb and examined it. It was muddied and in a sorry state, but I would wash it later and it could be used again.
Master Northleach removed his arm from the back of the bench and glanced down at the thread in my hands. ‘Silver thread. Though not as fine as your hair.’
I involuntarily touched my hood cap where I knew that my silvery hair neatly showed on my forehead. I looked around for Susannah. She was absorbed in her task but not far off, though, I hoped, out of earshot.
He was smiling yet again. I fancied his teeth were biting me. He edged closer. There was nowhere I could retreat now so I stared ahead, very obviously across the herb beds where Susannah was bent over her basket. She glanced up. I wished that Father would hurry outside and stared down at my hands as I turned the filmy silver thread over in my fingers.
Master Northleach reached over and touched my hand, making me freeze like a startled cat terrified of an advancing hound. I drew my fingers back and made a fuss of tucking the embroidery skein into my belt purse. As I moved, my household keys jangled. He drew back. ‘I really do not mean to upset you, Mistress Williams, but I do have something to ask of you,’ he said, his voice smooth as pressed linen.
I started. He did not frighten me, I decided, but he was like a slimy sea creature, an eel or a water snake, all in green, including the boots. He made me feel uncomfortable.
‘Be brief,’ I said and added with suitable forcefulness, ‘Master Northleach, I’ve work to do today and intend to put fresh rosemary on my husband’s grave when I attend Vespers.’ I glanced over at Susannah. Her back was bent again as she gathered parsley. She moved along the path towards the rosemary bush. The boy who was sweeping the path looked over at us and then resumed his work. He was coming closer towards us, but paused by the wall to secure a pear tree I was training to grow against it. I took the moment to say to the merchant, ‘What do you wish to say?’
Master Northleach folded one long arm over the other and looked straight at me. ‘I am a wealthy man, Mistress Elizabeth. I own a dye works and a cloth business in Bruges. We are friends, your father and I, so you must call me Edward. It is after Saint Edward, Confessor. I know your name to be Elizabeth, John the Baptist’s mother’s name, and that, too, of King Henry’s mother.’
I frowned. What a silly nonsense over names. I doubted Father could vouch for his Flanders dye works. Edward Northleach may have fooled my unsuspicious father but not me. I looked boldly at him and raised an eyebrow, waiting for the rest. He shifted even closer. I edged away. My right side was squashed up against the bench arm.
He moved slightly on seeing my discomfort. ‘I just want ask you, Mistress Elizabeth, that when you are ready to wed again…’ Lowering his voice, he murmured, ‘You would -’
I knew it and did not give Master Northleach the chance to continue, nor would I call him Edward. ‘No, Master Northleach, it is kind of you to offer but I do not intend to marry again, not you, nor anybody else.’ I stood up and swept my hand along my skirt. ‘Now if you will excuse me, I must attend Vespers.’
I called across the vegetable garden. ‘Susannah, escort Master Northleach to my father. Tell him I am attending Vespers today. I shall take a few sprigs of rosemary. Leave the basket with Cook and fetch your cloak. You will accompany me, so tie up the rosemary for me and bring it with you.’
‘Yes, Mistress.’ She made a half-curtsey. Gathering up her basket, she sauntered towards us.
I allowed my bombazine to swish to show my impatience and hoped that the scarlet underskirt did not show below it. I drew myself up as tall and straight as I could.
Master Northleach, who was clearly surprised at my hasty response, rose and bowed again. ‘Mistress Elizabeth, you will give me hope, of course?’ He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed my fingers, one by one. I snatched them back before he reached the little finger. Susannah looked from the merchant to me, as her eyes widened. The boy, too, who was just within earshot threw us an interested glance. Susannah looked down at her feet.
‘Master Northleach, I wish you well.’
Then he did something surprising. He lifted my hand again and pressed something into it. I opened my hand and stared down to where in my palm lay a fine silver chain and a cross with a tiny diamond set into it.
If it had not been a cross, I might have returned it immediately, but I could not resist appraising such a delicate piece, which was quite beautiful. I offered it back. ‘I cannot accept this. It is very fine, and valuable.’
He shook his head. ‘Just a token.’ Tears seemed to gather in his eyes. ‘I understand what it is to lose a loved one. It is a woman’s piece, a mourning gift, and that is all. You see, my wife died some years ago. It belonged to her. Please do not offend me by refusing it.’ He stepped to my other side. He was indeed light on his feet. ‘I shall not bother you again. Forgive me.’ In that moment I almost felt sorry for him.
Before I could return the mourning gift, he nodded briefly and followed the waiting, gibbous-eyed Susannah, who had observed all, leaving me alone on the path by the garden bench clutching the cross in my palm. I held it up and dangled it from my middle finger, allowing the sunlight to catch at the glittering diamond. It was fine and dainty, the chain and cross of good quality, the diamond perfect. Foolishly, I slipped it into my belt purse.
Later, as we hurried to Vespers, I recognised why I should have hurried after Master Northleach and returned the ornament to him. Gifts proffered with an offer of marriage were a suitor’s way of sealing a betrothal. My acceptance could be misconstrued as a promise of future encounters, as, I remembered, such tokens often were intended. That evening I placed it at the bottom of my trinket box and, because Master Northleach did not return with further tokens, I chose to forget its existence.
Chapter Nine
Midsummer’s Day, I526, The First Parlour
I FISH OUT THE DELICATE chain and cross from a beech-wood trinket box that has found its way into the first parlour. The diamond twinkles at me like a miniature star. I allow it to slither through my fingers, thinking that, one day, I must pass it to Grace. Yet, even though it is so beautiful, I should have rid myself of this unfortunate piece of my life long, long ago. My second Thomas wanted it returned to its owner but that never happened, and even though this gift was a mistake that bore misfortune, the cross does not feel malevolent. Perhaps, this is because it once belonged to the wife rather than to the husband. I return it to the casket where it creeps to the bottom and disappears, softly shut the lid and glance around my parlour.
All rests in its own true place here at Austin Friars - the clock, the tapestries, two arm-chairs by the fireplace, stuffed with embroidered cushions, and a collection of padded benches, a polished table where we can dine privately, and a tall cupboard with pewter plates displayed beside our Italian candlesticks. I pad over our grandest luxury, a Turkey carpet, to pat an embroidered cushion on Thomas’ chair, and moving to the table, begin to rearrange a posy of rosemary, bay, feverdew and pinks, pinching the bay to release its fresh, almost woody perfume. The glass decanter that holds this confection of flowers was a present from one of Thomas’ clients. Since it is chipped, I arrange herbs and flowers in it so as to conceal the chip and scent this spacious chamber. Just as everything in my life has over the years been shaken and tossed around li
ke leaves in an autumn storm, the objects that belong to a past time have come to rest quietly and peacefully in this calm home of ours.
My eye dwells with pleasure upon a richly woven tapestry that depicts courtly life with its silken ladies and gentlemen setting off for a day’s hunting. There are nobles whose elegant hawks sit obediently on leather-gloved hands, and rabbits and fawns peering out from the green and brown secret world of a dark, imagined forest. Ah, how many secrets does my hawk-loving husband guard for his silken smooth-faced Cardinal, a man I consider both dangerous and greedy? Yet, I, too, own a life filled with secrets belonging to my two husbands. I smile as I peer far into the threaded forest’s leafy depths. Thomas purchased this piece in Antwerp last time he was there, shortly after our move to this home which we have called Austin Friars, for it had no other name and, after all, it nestles close to the Friary walls. And then my eyes close in on a pair of sparrow hawks hidden in the trees and I shudder.
Since my husband has been in the Cardinal’s employ, he has discovered a love of falconry, a pleasure for noblemen. He would bring his birds inside though I have insisted that they stay out in mews so they can be trained by our falconer. You see, Thomas is rising in the world, to be able to afford such pastimes as hunting with birds, never mind the hoods, jesses and bells his two goshawks need as their furniture. He is aping the nobility, which I don’t think at all wise, even though I admit I enjoy flying Elinor, my merlin, a gift from my husband.
‘One day, I shall have a place at court,’ Thomas remarked only yesterday, after he returned from a long day with Cardinal Wolsey, during which they discussed the removal of further monastic gains into the Cardinal’s possession. ‘Thanks to the Cardinal’s employ and all the other extra legal work I have acquired, we are becoming very wealthy, my love. I shall buy us manors outside the City. Land is security for our future, Lizzy.’ His ever-changing eyes had turned a soft grey. ‘Our son will be educated by the best tutors in the land.’ He folded my hands into his. ‘Our daughters must receive an education as do Thomas More’s girls. And soon you, Elizabeth, will be a lady such as you see in that tapestry hanging up there.’
My reply reflected my unease with Thomas’ lucrative employment in the Cardinal’s household. With Thomas’ help, the Cardinal is closing down a number of tiny monasteries and, though it is just a few, where will it end? I am sad about the closures, even though Cardinal Wolsey claims he will put the money gained to good; into the new colleges in Oxford and Lincoln that he is furnishing and which Thomas has helped him organise.
‘Take care, my husband, outward appearances are not always as they seem amongst great folk,’ I warn. ‘There is a world of dissembling. The Cardinal will bring us trouble yet. Court is a dangerous place. Look at how the King had his dear friend the Duke of Buckingham executed some years ago, and he was a great noble.’ I lower my voice. ‘The King might yet turn against Wolsey and, with him, you too.’
‘No, Lizzy. The Cardinal will not fall.’
‘Mother tells me that there are dangerous men around King Henry’s person. It is the Lady Anne who completely holds his attention now. Stay away from court.’ I shook my head. ‘Poor Queen Catherine. It is so unjust. King Henry pays her so little attention.’
Thomas looked thoughtful. ‘Hush, Lizzy, you speak treason. I work for the Cardinal, not the King,’ he said. ‘I am a servant, a lawyer. And doing well for us. I have investments. We are purchasing land.’ He opened his arms expansively. ‘We have this house. We have children. It is all for us, my love. I am no threat to the King. I am a mouse under his feet, and not even of noble blood.’
‘Nor is the Cardinal of noble blood. This king will squash you both under those gilded shoes he wears.’
‘Well, then, he is no threat to King Henry.’
‘Buckingham was once King Henry’s friend too. He is dead, head chopped from body.’
‘He was too arrogant, too close by birth to a throne, Lizzy.’
‘What a reason that was,’ I said and turned my back on Thomas.
This morning, I peer out of the mullioned window and reflect on all that Thomas has given me. He loves his family, his sisters and his children. He is a kind, generous husband. When I watch him lean against the garden wall inspecting his work, it is so ordinary a moment I cannot imagine what lies concealed in the future for us all.
For a moment, I turn to study the painted cloth that hangs opposite the tapestry, staring at its red and white roses with silver centres. They are Tudor roses. It is dangerous to come too close to them. If only Thomas would listen to me and avoid court. I let a sigh escape because I discovered the rose hanging at the Northampton Fair, meaning to sell it on, but I never have. The painted cloth, like that silver cross, has remained with me ever since, such objects marking out my life’s passage from then until now.
Northampton…I smile. It was my bid for freedom and independence. I muse on the cloth business that I worked hard to save, and which brought us to our marriage.
We had a safer world then. The King was happy on his throne and he was loving with his queen. Thomas had not even met the Cardinal. He was a clever merchant and lawyer then, just beginning.
I lift the little jewel box and call for Bessie to take it to my bed chamber. It is time to join Meg in the kitchen because she has promised to help me make our special Midsummer’s pie.
Chapter Ten
1513
FATHER CAME TO SAY GOODBYE but still he scolded me, nagging me like a goodwife berating an errant husband. ‘Meg and Smith must stay by your side always. This venture is utter foolishness, but if you insist on this nonsense, Elizabeth, all I can do now is make sure that you and the coin and the goods are protected.’ He shook his head. ‘You rejected Edward Northleach and that was very foolish, my dear. He was most suitable, an excellent man. I … I promised him that, that you would ma-marry him,’ he stammered.
‘What? My hand is not yours to promise. He is not even suitable, nor is he worthy.’ I moved closer to Father and almost spat through my teeth. ‘I will not be married again because you think marriage a suitable state for me.’
‘Why did I breed such a wayward daughter? I pray daily that Joan has more sense.’
‘Do not wed her off to Master Northleach either. She can do better when her time comes.’
I swept around to the chests that stood waiting in my hall and using the keys hanging from my belt, locked them.
Glancing up at Father who was still hovering about me, I said, ‘Thank you for helping me purchase more cloth, and arranging inns for us, Father. I shall repay it all.’
* * *
The Northampton fair was as bustling as I had hoped. It was already busy as we rolled and clip-clopped through the busy narrow streets, under the overhangs of houses that stretched three and four storeys towards the sky that often was hardly visible. We took up residence at the Swan Inn. I was pleased to see that here Father, who was known in Northampton, had procured the best chamber available for myself and Meg, and a room for Smith and the apprentices. The guards slept in the carts in the stable and did not complain.
On the first day, I focused on selling the last of my woollen cloth, and on the second purchasing cloth. With Smith’s help we accumulated valuable new draperies such as frisadoes, serges and bayes. I had enough and now all I needed to add was trims for gowns, sleeves and cloaks and anything else I thought I could afford.
Our last day dawned bright and chill with pink-edged clouds. Meg happily remained at the Swan with our guards and a wagon already packed with goods. We took one of the wagons and a gelding called Midnight, as dark a horse as his name suggested, and he was, as we discovered that day, black in nature as well as shade. I patted Bella, my grey palfrey, and gave her a windfall apple to munch. She nuzzled my hand and looked up at me with great, pleading eyes. ‘Never mind, Bella,’ I said. ‘We shall be cantering south tomorrow. You’ll get plenty of exercise then.’
We set out back to the Swan that evening, satisfied with o
ur final purchases and, knowing the town better now, chose a shorter route that cut through a narrow cobbled lane behind the cloth hall. My apprentices were laden down with packages of velvet and satin trimmings. They trailed behind me while Smith wearily led Midnight, our frisky cart horse, forward.
‘We have done well, Smith,’ I called over to him as we turned into a dim, silent street, far from the bustle of the market.
‘Aye, Mistress, we have,’ he said. ‘But did you really need the painted cloth?’
‘Oh, yes,’ I said with enthusiasm. ‘The King’s roses. An excellent purchase.’ The roll of painted cloth, now tucked safely inside the covered wagon beside rolls of ordinary woollen fabric and ells of various new draperies, was decorated with tiny Tudor roses, an attractive, loyal pattern that might sell to one of Queen Catherine’s ladies, or even to the Queen herself. I wondered if I needed sell it at all. It would brighten up my Wood Street parlour, and sweep away those gloomy lingering memories of Tom Williams’ coffin which had sat there for three long days in June.
‘We shall sell that, if not here, then to a Flanders merchant. They like painted cloth there, I hear.’ As I spoke, I wistfully thought of one such merchant whom I feared was long lost to us but whom I hoped to find again.
‘Mistress, it would be wise to sell it, though I noticed how much you like that cloth.’
‘I do, Master Gerard. I very much like it.’
We were quite close to the inn when a gang of fast-moving apprentice boys came hurtling towards us. They appeared through a narrow arched entrance that led into a churchyard. My two apprentice boys shouted at them to stop. Midnight bellowed as Smith pulled hard on his reins, trying to avoid them.
They did not slow down. I moved into the side of the lane, near Smith who had drawn the cart over to the side closest to the churchyard. I thought that that the youths only wanted passage along the street, not realising that the shouting, carousing band would deliberately barrel into my apprentice boys.
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