“I am not an old woman,” she said, “and until now I feel that I have never been young. I was little more than a child when I was given in marriage to Lord Borough of Gainsborough. He seemed very old to me. His children were older than I. I was his nurse until he died. You would think, would you not, that I would have been allowed a free choice. But I was given to Lord Latimer. He, too, was elderly, and I was a wife and stepmother all at once. It seemed to be my fate… until now. I suppose I seem old to you, Elizabeth. You are so young. Imagine, not yet fourteen years old! Oh, I think back to the days when I was fourteen. I had my dreams. And then my first marriage. I was terrified, Elizabeth. Can you imagine a girl little more than a child to be given to an old man? But my Lord Borough was kind to me … so was Lord Latimer. I had my stepchildren but none of my own. It was something I longed for—a child of my own. And when Lord Latimer died I was thirty years old and I told myself, I am free.”

“Then you married my father.”

She nodded and I wondered afresh why she should be telling me this which I knew so well. There was a reason I was sure. She was leading to something which she was finding rather hard to tell me. I listened patiently.

“I thought,” she went on, “now I shall marry for love. There was one man, and I was not the only one who considered him the most attractive man at Court. There is really something rather magnificent about him. We would have been married. But the King chose me… and because of that Thomas had to leave Court.”

“Thomas,” I repeated.

She smiled tenderly. “Thomas Seymour and I were all but betrothed before my marriage to the King. But I became the Queen. Sometimes I dream of those years …” She shivered. “I have had dreams, Elizabeth.”

“I understand.”

“Nightmares when…”

“Please don't talk of it. It distresses you, my lady. I understand.”

“You know I came within a day of death.”

“Yes,” I said quietly.

“Only those who have undergone such a trial could know what that means. Perhaps with some it is different. They can face the axe… and some worse. To do it for one's faith I suppose would be different. There was Anne Askew. You remember her.”

“Yes. She was burned to death.”

My stepmother covered her face with her hands. “She was a saint, Elizabeth. I am not made of the stuff martyrs are made of.”

“Perhaps none of us knows what stuff we are made of until we are called on to face the supreme test.”

“You are a wise child. That is why I talk to you. I want you to know before it becomes common knowledge. I want you to understand.” She had lowered her hands and was looking at me. Now her emotions had completely changed. No longer was she looking back; she was looking forward, and the radiance had returned to her face. “I could not wait any longer,” she went on. “I was afraid, Elizabeth, that happiness would once more be snatched from me. I had to seize it and … he said we must. We would marry and tell afterward.”

“Marry! You cannot mean…”

She was laughing now. She looked lovely for she was a beautiful woman, particularly now that the little signs of age which had begun to appear when she was looking after my father and had lived in fear of losing her life seemed to have been wiped from her face. She looked almost like a girl.

“Yes,” she said, “Thomas and I were married secretly.”

“Thomas!”

“Thomas Seymour, Lord Sudeley. He always loved me… all the time I was married to the King. And I loved him, but of course we dared not show it. I was entirely faithful to the King. But as soon as I was free… Elizabeth, do you know, he asked me a week after the King's death.”

A week after the King's death! It must have been when Thomas Seymour had my own letter refusing him!

I felt numbed by the shock.

Oh the wickedness, the perfidy of men!


* * *

IT WAS IMPOSSIBLE for them to keep their marriage secret and there was great indignation among the Council, none being more incensed than the bridegroom's brother, Somerset. The marriage was an insult to the late King, it was said. What right had the Queen to marry so soon? Did she hope to foist the son of Lord Sudeley on the country as an heir to the throne? That would be an act of treason.

However it was soon clear that my stepmother was not pregnant.

Thomas had been clever in getting the consent of the young King to his marriage. I could imagine that scene. My little brother, who was quite overwhelmed by his magnificent and charming uncle, would readily give his consent to anything he asked; and although the Council, headed by Somerset, was infuriated by the insolence of the Admiral and what they called the reckless behavior of the Dowager Queen, they could not inflict punishment for something to which the King himself had given his consent. However, they could make life as uncomfortable as possible for the newly married pair.

In the first place Queen Katharine's jewels were confiscated. They were the property of the Crown, said Somerset. Thomas would not accept that, and Katharine, who would follow him in all things, declared her intention of fighting to keep them. They were very valuable, and Thomas, I was beginning to understand—though perhaps in my heart I had always known it— was rather fond of possessions. The Duchess of Somerset—whom my stepmother called “that odious Anne Stanhope”—refused to carry the Queen's train at ceremonies, a duty she had performed when Katharine had become the Queen. She declared she would not accord the same homage to her husband's younger brother's wife.

This was the beginning of the great animosity between the brothers. At the root of this was Thomas's determination to marry the King to Jane Grey while the Somersets coveted the role of Queen of England for their daughter Jane.

There was strife then in the Seymour family itself. Thomas did not care. He was one of the most reckless men I ever knew in the whole of my life.

Now that the marriage was acknowledged it meant that Thomas Seymour joined our household. I guessed this would prove to be a matter of some embarrassment to me. How should I feel living under the same roof as a man who had asked me to marry him and within a few days had proposed to my stepmother?

“Only a blatant adventurer would have done such a thing,” I said to Kat. “There is your fine gentleman!”

Kat was bitterly disappointed, but still she could see no wrong in the Admiral. I told her she was a very stupid woman and I gave her a slap or two during those few days after I had received the news. It relieved my feelings. She had talked of him constantly; she had made me think of him and see him as the handsome hero of romance.

I called him “The Buccaneer of the Bedchamber,” which amused Kat.

I said: “After all he has done, after the way in which he has deceived my stepmother, you still talk about him as though he were a god.”

“There is no one like him at Court,” insisted Kat. “He is indeed a man.”

I wanted to be alone to think about him, yet I wished I could get him out of my thoughts, but I could not dismiss him as easily as I wished. If he had not been so good-looking, so commanding, so light-hearted and amusing, I could have hated him. But if I showed my fury that would indicate that I cared enough to be angry. I must not show my feelings. What effect that would have on a man such as he was, I could well imagine. He believed himself to be so attractive that whatever he did he could never be anything but irresistible.

Kat told me that Thomas Parry wanted to talk to me. Sir Thomas Parry and Kat were the best of friends, I think largely because they were both inveterate gossips. John Ashley was quite different, far more sober than either of them, and much cleverer. I often wondered why he had fallen in love with Kat, but perhaps it was because she was so different from himself.

Tom Parry looked rather sly; his lips were pressed together as though the words were ready to tumble out and he was trying to restrain them in order to savor the full effect they would have on me.

I said impatiently: “Come on, Thomas, what is it?”

“My lady, this news…it has been a shock to us all.”

A shock? Had it? I thought of the Admiral's nocturnal visits to the Palace. It must have been he whom Kat had seen skulking round to the back on that night. Forestalling his marriage, no doubt, the rogue.

“Come, Parry, you have not asked me to see you to tell me that.”

“He took the Queen, my lady. But I think he would rather it were the Princess.”

“What Princess?”

“My lady Elizabeth herself.”

“Stop talking of me as though I am not here. What is it you have to say? Say it quickly and stop hedging.”

“It was the day after the King's death, my lady. The Admiral came to me …” He hesitated.

“Came to you? For what purpose?”

“He wished for a detailed account of your possessions and felt I was the one to give it.”

“I see,” I said. “Why was I not told?”

“The Admiral made me swear secrecy, my lady.”

“Oh, I see. You serve him, do you? I thought you were my servant.”

“I am, my lady, with all my heart, but I thought it could only mean that he was seriously contemplating matrimony with you and that seemed a great and marvelous thing.”

“And you think my possessions satisfied him then?”

“He seemed as satisfied with them as he is with your person.”

“I suppose you and that gossip-monger Kat Ashley think I should feel honored to be so well endowed by my late father that I can attract the attention of the Admiral?”

“Kat Ashley and I agreed that he was as enamored of you as your possessions.”

“Master Parry, have you ever wondered what it would be like to occupy a cell in the Tower?”

“My lady!”

“Look to it,” I said. “You may discover one day. You should be more cautious and guard well your tongue. You are a simpleton, Tom Parry—and Kat Ashley with you.”

I went out for I could bear no more. He had weighed up my possessions, considered them worthy of his attention and then proposed marriage. When I had refused he had immediately gone to the next on the list.

Was that not enough to infuriate any woman particularly when—it had better be confessed—she had quite a fancy for the handsome philandering rogue?

I could see that I had betrayed my feelings too much. I had not yet mastered the trick of hiding them. Parry had gone straight to Kat and I was sure he would tell her that I was angry because of the marriage and had secretly wanted Thomas Seymour for myself.

They were a pair of scandalmongers and I was often exasperated with them both. But they so obviously loved me, and I believe I was more important to them than anyone else; and for that reason I could never be annoyed with them for long. Sometimes I trembled for their lack of wisdom. How right I was soon became clear.


* * *

MY SISTER MARY wrote to me asking if I would like to leave the household of the Dowager Queen and Thomas Seymour for she was sure that to live with those who had conducted such a misalliance would be distasteful to me.

Mary was at Wanstead whither she had come from Norfolk. She was seventeen years older than I and therefore must be much wiser. She was, however, a very firm upholder of the Catholic Faith, and her desire to see it again established in England clouded her judgment and from time to time put her in considerable danger. I knew that she was horrified by the attitude of the Council toward religion for now they were mainly supporters of the Reformed Faith she considered anathema. Edward himself had always inclined strongly toward it, so I could see that I must on no account set myself beside her, for if there was later to be a choice of religion I must be free to take whichever course would help me best. I had long decided that preoccupation with the method of worshipping was not so important as faith itself and I did not intend to become involved in it or committed to any doctrine to my detriment.

I knew Mary well enough to understand that she would want the throne, not for her own aggrandizement, but for the opportunity of bringing England back to Rome. I could see great dangers for the realm in that determination, but I knew that devout Catholics—among them men like Gardiner—would agree wholeheartedly with Mary.

Thomas Seymour had written to my stepsister asking her to give her blessing on his marriage to Katharine Parr and Mary was very angry. He had written as though the marriage had not taken place, but she knew very well that the Queen was already his wife for she had her spies to keep her informed. She considered the marriage outrageous—in fact almost criminal because our father was so recently dead. How could Katharine have so quickly forgotten her husband? she would ask. I could understand Katharine's need. I had seen her terror under my father's rule and I knew of the irresistible—or almost—wiles of the Admiral. Perhaps I was more worldly than my sister even though she was seventeen years older. Perhaps I understood our stepmother's desire for marriage as Mary never could.