Tom put an arm round her.
“They ride as though the hounds were after them—”
“She always did,” Katherine said with a laugh and a shake of her head.
“I do not see her,” Seymour muttered impatiently. “Do you see her, Kate?”
“She’ll be in the carriage, for sure!”
“Should be, but will she so?” Seymour gave a shout of laughter. “What will you wager the carriage carries Ashley while our Bess rides pillion behind a groom?”
Her heart stirred at the words “our Bess.”
“Not now!” Katherine protested. “She’s old enough now to take her place with dignity and knows it.”
“Ha! You know not our Bess if you can speak thus,” he retorted jovially. “Ill down and meet ’em.”
He was at the door while he spoke.
“Tom,” Katherine called, “send me Amy. Bid her tell the cooks we’ll eat in half an hour. Oh — and send me Sebastian!” But Seymour’s feet were thudding down the stairs; he did not heed her agitated flutter. Katherine went to the door which he had flung wide.
“Amy!” she called. “Amy! Sebastian! Tell them to serve the men at once, in the kitchen. Oh—Amy—'”
In the royal manor house of Chelsea, no royal state was kept up. Here, and especially now, Katherine was what she best liked to be, simple lady of the house. No pages scutded to summon maid or steward; Tom, in his haste, hadn’t called them, so the Queen Dowager did… She whirled back into the room exclaiming, “Where did I put my keys? In the name of heaven, where are my keys?” And as she swept about looking for them, her hands flew to the smooth, shining bands of hair, dabbing and adjusting.
Amy, a young maidservant in a gray gown and white cap, came running and bobbed a curtsy.
“Your Majesty called?”
r
“Aly keys, Amy—I can’t put my hand on them—”
“I have them, Your Majesty.” Amy’s freclded face was smiling irrepressibly, and Katherine laughed. Those keys were forever being mislaid.
“The wines for dinner—”
“The wines are ready, madam. Sebastian looked to them an hour since.”
“Oh …” Katherine drew a breath of relief. “How do I look? I’d meant to change my gown—”
“Excellent well, Your Majesty,” Amy assured her.
“Well, no matter. ’Tis too late now. But I can change for dinner—” She broke off, and held out her hands with a glad cry of welcome:
“Ashley!”
The stout, bustling woman came into the room, breathing loudly from evident haste, her homely figure in gray cloak and black hood and gloves, her ruddy face breaking into a beam as she went heavily to her knees before Katherine.
“Your Majesty!”
Katherine raised her and kissed the apple-red cheek.
“Ashley! Ashley! It’s like God’s breath to see you again. Come, sit down, sit down. Rest yourself and get your breath! Where is Elizabeth?”
Dame Ashley stood fanning herself with one glove.
“That one! The minx! Never one foot would she set in the carriage with me—”
“Amy,” Katherine said in a quick aside, “be sure the Princess’ ladies have places at the great table. Go, now!”
Amy dropped a curtsy and flew out. Katherine gently pushed Ashley into one of the high-backed armchairs.
“Sit you down! You’re spent — and I am not Queen in this house,” she said gleefully. “Now—where is she?”
But Dame Ashley was not to be balked of her recital.
“I thank Your Majesty,” she said with decorum, settled herself in the chair, drew off the other glove, and let herself go…
“I begged her to drive with me, as was fitting. I threatened —I swear to Your Majesty were she a few years younger I’d beat her! But no! Not even a pillion would she ride like a proper young lady, let alone a Princess of the realm… No! Her own horse, so please you, and out in front of us all like a common groom!”
Katherine was laughing.
“I could not see you, you all came into the road so fast. Then why is she not here?”
“And that too! Dismount at the steps, would she? No! That young puppy, Dudley, met us at the crossroads and nothing would do but she must race him here. She’s rode to the stables ahead of him. Aye, you may laugh, Your Majesty, but that I should live to see her carry on her ways here, when you’ve been so kind—”
“Dear Ashley, give over! You could as soon tame the wind as our Bess, and you know it.”
“Well, God grant I never have her care at Court, if we be sent for there, that’s all I say. They’ll ride her out of London, and so they should!” Ashley clucked on, like a disgruntled hen.
“And have hard work doing it! ” Katherine retorted laugh-
ing. “With all the grooms and peasants she’d dismount to have speech with along the road.”
Ashley fetched a wheezing breath.
“Well, you’ve asked for her. Take her! I’ll look to her linens, but from this day I’ll wash my hands of her behavior.” The good dame was expanding in the homely, carefree atmosphere with considerable speed. And here, a voice was heard, calling through the house, clear and piercing as a blackbird’s bold, sweet whistle, and coming closer at each calclass="underline" “Kate … Kate … where are you, Kate?”
“There!” Ashley commented with a sort of sour triumph. “What did I say? Shouting for Your Majesty … and cannot even come up the stairs like a lady—”
“She knows this house for what her father named it: the Nursery Palace,” Katherine said, her face alight with enjoyment.
The door was thrown open again, and Elizabeth stood framed in the oak portal, slim and supple as a wand in her billowing fawn riding dress, her eyes brimming with laughter and excitement, her hair tossed flames on her shoulders. She was across the room in a flash that was light rather than movement and into Katherine’s opened arms.
“Bess—Bess—oh, Bess!” the older woman was repeating between kisses.
“Kate, hold me tight! ” Elizabeth was saying into her neck. “Tight — and never let me go—”
“Never will I, dearest”
Elizabeth stood off, considered her stepmother with wonder and frank adoration.
“You are a witch, a very witch. How did you do it—get me here, I mean? Tell me, how?”
“No matter. With King Edward's blessing, you are here.” “Aye, his—small, sweet Ned’s Majesty! And the Council’s most divine consent—”
“Bess, have a care. Our little Ned is ours no longer. He is the King.”
“In truth, he is,” Elizabeth agreed cheerfully. “But you must grant me it’s a merry note when he that was my pet sparrow must chirp before I may come to you here. Well, well, we’re here, Ashley. We’re here, my woman.” She whirled about, hair and skirts spinning. “Where’s Tom? I thought to find him with you.”
“And so he is. He rode from London today. He went down to meet you when we heard the carriage.”
“Well, meet me he did not. And I want him. Now. At once.”
Ashley shook her head and mutely lifted resigned eyes to the ceiling. But Katherine only laughed.
Now, At once. Just so had a small Bess clamored for some toy, some favorite dish at table, even some unseasonable treat. (“Why is it not Christmas? I want it now — at once…”) Elizabeth, of course, had left the oak door wide, and it was now filled by a fat, rubicund man with a short grizzled beard, puffing from the labor of climbing the stairs.
“Not you, Thomas Parry,” Elizabeth fired at him. “I’ve seen enough of you.”
Her cofferer bowed heavily to the Queen and glanced ap-
pealingly at his colleague, Dame Ashley, who pronounced: “Bess, for shame!”
“Kate,” said the Irrepressible, “Parry says I’ve brought you too much household. If you say so, they shall all to the rightabout and I’ll turn sewing wench to myself and groom to my own horse. Nothing would do greater pleasure to this old skinflint.”