‘Why would he? I think the Seymours wanted him out of the way, so they convinced the King. And Tom wanted the Queen gone because she is a Lutheran and he has suddenly found himself a very Catholic god.’ He squeezed Meg’s cold hands in his own large warm ones. ‘We need to get you inside, my love.’
‘Soon, Ralph. I like talking with you outside. We don’t have to guard our words. Did you hear anything else about the King’s death?’
‘Only that Cranmer was kept waiting while Ned Seymour tried to bully Henry into signing the warrants, but Henry was too far gone! Why? Did anything untoward happen?’
‘The poor Queen barely got to his room to bid him farewell with his children. Cranmer was administering the blessing, and Henry’s breathing was getting worse and worse. It was awful. I felt sorry for the children, Ralph. Edward is so young to be King.’
‘John Dudley is an honourable man. And Ned Seymour will …. help, sweet Meg.’
‘Yes, I’m sure he will!’ Meg said tartly. ‘And we are coming back here, Ralph, with Princess Elizabeth and the Dowager Queen. She doesn’t want to stay at court, so Elizabeth invited her to come and stay here until she finds somewhere else she would rather live. Cat will soon go to Hever for the birth of her baby, so the Princess will have company until we come back home.’
‘I will wait for your return then, my love.’ He smiled down at her, and by the look in his eyes, she knew he had something to tell her. But she had a secret of her own, which is why she had wanted to stay outside, so she had him to herself.
‘Why do you say it like that?’ Curiosity in her voice.
‘Because I have a new position, my love, and I shall no longer be at court either!’
‘Not at court? But you ….? What is the new position, Ralph?’ She was worried now, because she didn’t want to move to a different part of the country, away from Cat and Mary and the Princess; or even worse, abroad!
He smiled at her reassuringly. ‘The Princess Elizabeth has asked me to be her private secretary, my love. Francis will still be here, dealing with her finances. But I shall handle the rest. Now Edward is King, he has legitimised both his sisters, so there will be many offers of marriage. We will have to be vigilant.’
‘So you will be here, Ralph? All the time? With me?’
‘Yes, my love,’ Ralph lifted Meg off her feet and swung her round, laughter in his voice as she squealed in delight. ‘Will that please you, my Lady?’
‘Oh yes, my love,’ she breathed as he lowered her to the ground, sliding her down his body and claiming a deep kiss. When he let her up for air, she whispered, ‘It will also please your son.’ Then she watched, laughing, as Ralph ran round the garden, heedless of puddles, cheering and whooping.
***
‘What did you say her name would be, Cat?’ Mary placed her new granddaughter in her mother’s arms, both her girls in clean linen after a very quick birth.
‘Laetitia, Mother,’ Cat sighed. She knew when she had chosen the name her mother would have something to say about it.
‘Laetitia? Laetitia? I know why Monseigneur calls everyone ‘girly’ now,’ Mary muttered. ‘It’s easier!’
‘It’s a very grand name for a very little girl, Cat. Why did you choose it?’ Meg smiled at her friend as she rolled her eyes at her mother’s mutterings.
‘I wanted something unusual, Meg. There are too many Marys and Annes and Catherines. And if you threw a bonnet at the men of the court, you’d hit five Thomases before it fell to the floor! I wanted something people will remember.’ She gazed fondly at her new daughter. ‘If it gets too difficult, we can call her Lettice, I suppose. Lettice Knollys is still memorable, don’t you think?’
‘Hmph! I’ll go and get Francis, so he can see his new Laetitia,’ grumbled Mary, gathering debris from the birth as she went and bundling it at a hovering maid in disgust. ‘Lettice indeed!’
Meg and Cat rolled their eyes at one another again and laughed, and Meg rubbed her own belly, five months into her pregnancy. Now Cat was safely delivered, she would return to Ralph and the Princess, and wait for Cat to recover sufficiently to join her.
***
‘Oh, my Lady!’ Meg’s shocked whisper as she looked at Dowager Queen Katharine. Kate beamed at Meg.
‘Lady Seymour now, Meg. We didn’t have reason to wait.’
‘But, the mourning period, my Lady. Didn’t you have to wait until that was over?’
Kate looked at Meg levelly, and took her hand. They were in the solar at Hatfield House, but Elizabeth had gone riding with Sir Thomas, and Meg was quite alone in the room with Kate.
‘Sit with me Meg. Let me tell you a story. When I was thirteen, I was married to a man who was almost seventy. He didn’t want me as a wife, in his bed. But he did want to educate me, mould my mind, and he brought me to court. While I was there, I saw Tom, twenty years old, six feet tall, dark haired, athletic, amusing, a veritable god. I fell in love,’ Kate shrugged and smiled at Meg, whose eyes were enormous, listening to the story.
‘When my kind husband died, leaving me a wealthy widow, my family whisked me away from court and married me to another very old, very wealthy man. This man, although also kind, did not want me in his bed either.’ Kate looked up at Meg, wondering whether to trust her with the secret. She shrugged; what did it matter now?
‘This husband preferred men in his bed, Meg,’ Meg gasped. ‘He wanted me as a disguise for his …. liaisons. But he was kind, and made no other demands on me, and then he fell very ill and I nursed him. While I was at court, I again met the man I had fallen in love with all those years ago. And he loved me back!’ Kate looked at Meg and smiled a beautiful smile.
‘I went to Tom’s bed a virgin, Meg. Having had two husbands, I was still a virgin at almost thirty. We planned to marry when my husband died, and when Tom had returned from Germany. But the King saw me, and needed a nurse. So I married the King, another old, sick man who didn’t want me in his bed. But now I am my own woman, Meg. I am an extremely wealthy woman in my own right. I do not need a husband to support me. But I still want my young god in my bed. So we have married, in secret, but will tell the world soon. I am Lady Katharine Seymour, wife of Sir Thomas Seymour. And never again will I have to marry someone I don’t love.’
Meg’s eyes had filled with tears at Kate’s story. She couldn’t imagine being parcelled off to marry other men, while her family benefitted from the money or the influence. She was so pleased that Ralph loved her, and that she would be having his child soon. And she was glad that Kate had found happiness with Tom Seymour.
***
‘Dear God, Meg. I never took Kate Parr for a fool, but dear God! Marrying Tom Seymour in secret only two weeks after the death of the King. What was she thinking?’ Mary was aghast. She had accompanied Cat back to Hatfield, so Elizabeth and Kate could meet Lettice, and had taken the opportunity of seeing Meg alone whilst the others fussed over the tiny girl.
‘That she wanted the man she loved in her bed,’ replied Meg flatly.
‘She might love him, Meg. But Tom Seymour loves money and variety! He’ll have Kate’s money, but will he stay in her bed? And if he doesn’t, whose bed will he visit?’ Mary looked at Meg over the rim of her wine cup. ‘If Kate gets with child, Meg, get a bolt put on Elizabeth’s door!’
Meg looked at Mary, absolutely horrified. ‘Why do you say that, my Lady?’
‘Because the Church frowns on a man visiting his wife’s bed when she is with child,’ Meg took a breath to interrupt, but Mary continued, ‘and although they are both Lutherans, and God’s frown might not be quite so severe, I can’t see Tom Seymour wanting a bloated belly when there’s a young, flat belly in the house.’
Meg rubbed her
own belly gently as her baby moved position and made her jump slightly. She was so grateful that Ralph still shared her bed, in every sense, even though her formerly flat belly was now bloating nicely.
‘I will keep watch, Lady Mary. And if I see anything untoward, I shall let you know,’ Meg promised, although she didn’t know what Mary could do about it. But she was sure something would be done, and she had promised to keep Princess Elizabeth safe, out of loyalty to the Howards.
Chapter 28 - 1547
y Lord Seymour. Good afternoon.’
‘How now, my Lady the Duchess of Hertford. I don’t need to turn round to know who speaks thus; your distinctive scent of gardenias tells me, my Lady.’ He turned to smilingly greet his sister-in-law and then bowed deeply.
‘Come, Tom. Share a cup of wine with me.’ Anne Seymour took his arm and led him towards the solar, previously occupied by the Queen but now under her domain as wife of the Lord Protector. She took him to a small table and poured them a goblet of wine, then sat, indicating that he should take the chair opposite.
‘How do you find marriage, my Lord?’ Anne smiled at him over the rim of her cup.
‘Wonderful, Anne. I had no idea how wonderful it would be.’ His voice contained a reasonable amount of sincerity, she thought.
‘Oh, Tom. Tom. You married too soon,’ Anne chuckled softly, ‘You threw yourself away on the wrong virgin!’
He looked at her sharply, unable to take her meaning. ‘The wrong virgin, Anne? I do not understand your words. Kate was a widow when I married her, and twice a widow when the King took her for his wife.’
Anne rolled her eyes at him and sipped her wine, thinking carefully before she spoke again.
‘Kate Parr may not have been a virgin when she wed the King, Tom. But she was a virgin from her two previous husbands. You only had to look at her!’
He started to deny, interrupt, deflect his sister-in-law’s comments but Anne smoothly continued, ‘And good luck to her, I say, enduring marriage first to a dotard and then to a sodomite! She even managed to keep hold of the wealth she had earned with her innocence. Surprisingly enough, Henry let her keep her husband’s bequests. Why shouldn’t he? The poor girl needed some reward for dressing that noxious suppurating leg of his without spilling the contents of her stomach twice a day!’
Tom watched his sister-in-law closely as he drank his wine and poured them more. She seldom made conversation for its own sake, so he waited patiently for her to get to the point.
‘But virgins, Tom, when taken by men they feel they love, bind themselves to that man. Bond, like a duckling to its mother. And you married so soon, we did not have time to warn you. That you were marrying the wrong virgin.’
‘I still don’t take your meaning, Anne. If I allow you the fact that I took Kate’s virginity before she wed the King, why is she still the wrong virgin? Who is the right one?’
Anne shook her head at his lack of understanding and sipped at her wine again, lowering her voice. ‘Ned and I are Protectors of the boy King. Yes?’ Tom nodded. ‘But Edward is not a healthy child, Tom. Not strong like his father. More like his uncle. Prince Arthur.’
Tom’s eyes widened. Henry’s brother Arthur had died at 15, before he became King.
‘So, if our role as Protectors may be cut short, it would have been…. politic … to be near the next monarch, connected by the bonds of marriage?’ Her voice rose at the end, as if making those words a question.
‘Marry Mary?’ Tom hissed, then choked so hard on his wine at that thought that he started to cough, and Anne started to laugh. They made so much commotion between them that the other members of the court stopped what they were doing to look across and see what was causing the noise. Anne carried on laughing, waving her hands to indicate everything was well, and they should return to whatever they had been doing. She called a servant across and asked that Tom be brought some small ale, to calm his cough and soothe his throat, which Tom sipped gratefully.
‘No, Tom. Not Mary,’ Anne began to laugh again at that thought. ‘She is far too pious to marry you, a probable Lutheran. And who knows, she may be Queen in another country sooner than you might think.’ Tom’s eyes widened at the hint of plans afoot that might make Mary a Queen elsewhere. The only country he could think of which would possibly be acceptable to the Princess was Spain.
‘Thank God for that, Anne. I have a strong constitution, but even I might baulk at bedding that swarthy Spanish sprite.’
‘She is little, I grant you. And very Spanish in her colouring and skin tone. Which is surprising, really as her mother was quite golden when young. But she would not have you, Tom. You are too worldly for her.’ Anne laughed. ‘So, Tom. Think. Use your brain. If not Mary, then …..?’
‘Elizabeth,’ he breathed.
‘Well done. I knew we would get there eventually.’ Anne shook her head at him, as if he were a particularly slow pupil. ‘And you are perfectly positioned, living where you do, to make her fall in love with you. Should anything befall Kate, God forbid, but one never knows, then Elizabeth might want to comfort you. And if anything should befall Edward, again God forbid, then Elizabeth could well take the throne.’
Tom gazed at Anne in astonishment, knowing that his brother must also be involved in this …. plot?
‘But Anne, I do love Kate you know. Elizabeth is still a girl, a child really. Kate may live a long time yet, God willing.’
‘She may, Tom. But she may not, and children do grow!’ Anne finished her drink and got to her feet. Tom also rose, and Anne leant forward to kiss his cheek. ‘Farewell, my Lord. Give my best regards to your good wife and our Princess.’
Tom watched her in bewilderment as she walked away to the other end of the room and her ladies. He turned over in his mind what his sister-in-law had suggested. He thought he had loved Kate for a long time, but he realised now, having listened to Anne, that he had probably missed an opportunity. If Kate had waited for him after she had been widowed, they would have had many more years together, and Elizabeth had been a small girl then, a child, of no interest to him. Kate might even have borne him a son.
She still might. And yet…. As Elizabeth became an adult, Kate would age, he thought. If only she had married him when she was Lady Brough, he would have been the father of several sons by now. He was a man who deserved sons, he thought. And if Kate was too old, then possibly a new young wife, a Royal wife, would give him sons. Tom stood and finished his wine, placing his cup decisively on the table. He would go for a ride perhaps, and think on this a little more.
.
***
‘Only one more push, Meg. I promise.’ Mary wiped Meg’s hot face with a wonderfully cool cloth. ‘Once more, then you can hold your son.’
Meg could feel the midwife’s hand, massaging and pressing down on her distended stomach, while at the same time she could feel a sort of tugging, high up inside her. It wasn’t painful, just rather strange.
‘We have to make sure it’s all out, my Lady,’ the hot-looking midwife smiled at her and nodded helpfully, ‘the after-birth. If we can make it come away all in one piece,’ she pressed with one hand and pulled harder with the other, ‘then there’s less chance of child-bed fever.’
Suddenly Meg felt a detached tightening, not a pain, just a clenching really, and the midwife pulled and pulled. Meg felt something slither from her, and she sighed.
The midwife inspected the bloody mass carefully, then pronounced she was satisfied and put it into the waiting bucket to be removed.
‘We’ll get you washed, my lovely, and into clean linens and then Ralph can come and meet his son.’ Mary brought a basin of water over to the bed, while Cat held the bundle of swaddling that contained her son and rocke
d him carefully. Meg smiled at the thought of her new son, and obediently let Mary and the maids wash her and change the soiled sheets and nightgown.
At last, her son cradled in her arms, her husband was allowed to see them both.
‘Sweet Meg.’ Ralph hurried to the bed and kissed her gently on the forehead.
‘Our son, my Lord,’ Meg smiled at his astonishment, as she rarely called him that, and usually only in jest.
‘He’s beautiful, my love.’ And indeed the baby was, with his mother’s light brown curls and his father’s snub nose. His eyes remained firmly closed.
‘What name have you decided on, my Lord?’ Meg looked up slyly, knowing Ralph was unsettled by her formality.
‘Would ‘Richard’ meet with your approval, Lady Margaret?’ If she was going to play, then he would join in.
‘It would, my Lord. Anything but Thomas!’ and she laughed at the expression on Cat’s face as she stood near the door. ‘And I shall name our next child.’ Cat nodded heartily at that suggestion, and then crept out to leave them together.
Ralph heard the door close, and leant forward over his son, kissing Meg fully on the lips. ‘Next child, my love?’ he whispered.
‘Many more, I hope,’ she whispered back, ‘My love.’
Chapter 29 - 1548
ay I hold him, Meg?’
‘Of course, my Lady. He is newly cleaned and newly fed, so he will be no trouble.’ Meg passed her baby into Kate’s outstretched arms. Kate settled back into the chair, cradling Richard gently and looking at him with awe.
‘He is truly beautiful, Meg. A perfect wonder.’ Kate’s soft whisper was filling with tears.
‘He has his father’s gentle temperament, my Lady. He is easy to love.’
In The Midst of Madness: Tudor Chronicles Book Two Page 17
