In the distance, Thomas laughed with Elizabeth and kept his arms round her, though the lesson should long since have ended. Even Kate now looked discomfited. She stood up and smoothed her skirts and said, afore making her way to Thomas, “My husband wants me to bring the matter of my jewelry up to his brother myself, at a banquet they are holding next month, at Syon. I believe that I shall.”
Later that week she received a letter from the king. He did not refer to her as mother, nor sign it as her son. He did indicate some growing distaste over her hasty and unseemly marriage to Thomas. Whether that thought grew as he recognized that Kate and Thomas had deceived him, or whether Edward Seymour had harried him for his own purposes, I knew not. ’Twas a shame the boy king, without mother, without father, was so ill used by all who were interested only in their own power and the advancement of their own desires.
A month later Edward Seymour and his wife held a fine evening banquet in the gardens of their Thameside residence, Somerset House. I worried no more about seeing John Temple, as Gardiner had been thrown into the Tower after refusing the new directions the king’s council took with religious matters. Edward Seymour had been the force behind that action. The Duchess of Suffolk, Kate’s dear friend, quipped, “It be merry with the lambs when the wolf was shut up.” I hoped, for her sake and Kate’s, that he would remain shut up, for he was like to hear of his enemies dancing upon his grave and return the favor with interest should he ever be freed. Certainly his boundless pride had not allowed him to forgive the duchess for naming her spaniel after him.
As to the banquet, no expense had been spared. I had heard my lady speculate about where such wealth was coming from; the seizing of funds from chantries meant to say prayers for the dead, now outlawed, certainly, but there must have been more sources as well. Several of my lady’s household rode in fine litters to the event; Thomas and his men arrived via horseback, of course, but they traveled alongside of us.
There were wandering minstrels and jugglers of all sorts; their painted faces were meant to enchant but I found their false, leering smiles a horror and representative of the evening as a whole. I had many friends present, for though we had scattered when Kate’s household was broken up we came together infrequently for such events. And yet, as I wandered away from the torches meant to light the night, I felt despondent. My lady would return to Chelsea with Lord Thomas, and the Lady Elizabeth was there with her household; my Lady Tyrwhitt and her husband, Sir Robert, would return to their rooms together, as would various others who resided at Chelsea. Yet I would retire alone, perhaps forever.
I turned to walk back toward the festivities and saw Kate talking with Edward Seymour, who seemed in rather a hurry to remove himself from her company. She followed him for a few steps but he did not turn back toward her. Realizing it was unseemly, I suspected, for a queen to chase after a duke, she stopped her pursuit. Later that night she and I rode back to her estate with the litter curtains pulled back to display the tiara of starlight, as the evening was warm.
Robert Tyrwhitt rode alongside us, as did the other men in her household, but Lord Thomas had ridden on ahead, alone, and in great haste.
“Has Lord Thomas taken ill?” I asked.
Kate shook her head. “He is angry with me. I began to speak with his brother about the return of my jewelry, and Edward put me off, saying this was not the occasion for such a discussion.”
“Then when is?” Lady Tyrwhitt asked. “He refused to return your correspondence and does not provide a time when you may come to meet with him at court or any other place.”
“I know it well,” Kate said. “He promised that he and his wife should be my guests at a banquet at Chelsea within the month, and we would talk of the matter then, in a more intimate environment.”
“And Lord Thomas is angry because …?” Lady Tyrwhitt asked.
“Because I did not insist,” Kate said. “But there was little I could do.”
I reached over and threaded my arm through her own, sorrowing to see her miserable so quickly into a much-longed-for marriage.
“Lady Seymour wore your ruby and gold garter,” Lady Tyrwhitt said. “The one His Majesty gave you as a personal gift, not a jewel belonging to the crown.”
“I noticed,” Kate said. “She wore it knowing that I, and many others, would understand the message she sent with that gesture. She has taken the pearls my mother left me upon her death, as well.”
We arrived home late, but as I made my way down the hallway I noticed that the candles were still lit in the Lady Elizabeth’s rooms. I thought I heard the voice of a man, so I stopped outside of her chamber for a moment, but then, hearing only the voice of Kat Ashley, went on my way.
The next month Kate prepared a festive banquet by which she and Thomas meant to mend fences with his brother Edward and Edward’s wife. Kate had invited her sister and her husband, and her brother, William Parr, was to come, too, without the Lady Elisabeth Brooke, though they were as much in love as ever. Kate had gone to great expense to make sure the evening would be perfect, and even the Lady Elizabeth would be allowed to attend.
I suspected that was Kate’s way of showing that she, too, had care of a royal child. She rarely saw the king, and the Lady Mary had made a wide space between them since Kate’s marriage to Sir Thomas. The queen dowager had also taken her young nephew by her sister, Lady Herbert, into her household to educate him at her own expense.
Four hours afore the event a messenger came hard riding and asked to speak with Lord Thomas. I was in the great hall, next to the receiving hall, ensuring that the final details were being carried out according to Kate’s instructions.
“I come with news from your brother,” the messenger said. There in the receiving hall he handed over a scroll. Thomas opened it, read it, then ripped it in half. He stared at the messenger, who had taken a few steps back.
“Sir, do you care to send back an answer?”
“You have it, man.” Thomas pointed at the torn letter on the floor. “Right there, you have my response.” He took his leave and made his way to Kate’s chamber.
The banquet went on as planned, but without the guests of honor. Kate explained that the lord protector was unable to attend, as he was raising the troops necessary to invade Scotland and put down the recent French-backed attack planned upon His Majesty’s realm. Privately, she told her women what had really happened.
“This is the doing of Edward’s wife, Anne Stanhope.” Kate rarely referred to her nemesis by her exalted titles. “She has oft promised to invite me to a reading or a gathering of women working for reform. And yet, an invitation never arrives. She promises many comings and performs none.”
It was doubly bitter, then, in October, when Kate had some letters from several of the men administering her dower lands. Each reported that her brother-in-law Edward Seymour had directed that the monies from the leases on said land were to be turned over to him, and not to the dowager queen, their rightful owner. The lord protector further informed them that they were to take their instructions from him, and not Kate, on pain of consequence. He did not need to threaten them. They knew who was their true master.
The lord protector was stealing from Kate and no one would stop him.
Kate shut herself up in her chambers upon hearing the news. She turned me away for a few days, only having the use of her servants.
I spent my time reading, and one day the Lady Elizabeth found me in front of the fire. Master Grindal, her beloved tutor, had given her leave to have time for herself.
“Mistress St. John?” She approached me and I set my book aside.
“Yes, my Lady Elizabeth. How may I be of service to you?”