Виктория Холт - The Rose Without a Thorn

“Yes, Your Grace.”

He glanced at my grandmother, who nodded.

“Then go, child,” she said. “Try the blue velvet. They used one of your old gowns for size. It should fit. There are some beautiful materials and the colors should become you well. Let me see how you look in the blue velvet.”

I was always glad to get away when my uncle was present. Moreover, the prospect of clothes always excited me.

How they had changed toward me! The King’s attention had done this. I felt a warm glow of gratitude toward him. I was beginning to lose my awe of him. He had been so friendly, and he had shown clearly that he did not think me in the least stupid—or, if he did, he liked it. I was as a young girl should be, he implied.

I gasped with pleasure at the materials when I saw them. I may not have had much book-learning, but I did know something about clothes. I held up the material against me and the two seamstresses cried out in delight.

“Oh, how that scarlet becomes you, Mistress Howard! I think we should make it with the flowing sleeves.”

The flowing sleeves were a fashion which had been introduced to the Court by Anne Boleyn, because she had a deformity on the finger and the full sleeves helped to hide it. They were graceful and becoming and were still in fashion.

I examined the materials and we talked of styles. I tried on the blue dress. The bodice had a square-cut neck and the skirt hung open in the front to disclose a beautifully embroidered kirtle decorated with a tracing of silver thread. The women hovered round me, straightening the skirt and patting the material here and there.

“Ah, but you are beautiful in that gown, Mistress Howard,” one of them said.

They stood together, looking at me in admiration—I suspected as much of their own work as of me.

I was delighted. So often I had seen the Court ladies in splendid gowns and wished they were mine. And now, it seemed, they were.

“The Duchess wishes me to show her this gown,” I said.

They nodded to each other. They had no doubt of her approval.

I went back to my grandmother’s apartments. As I opened the door to the little anteroom which led to her chamber, the sound of her voice and that of the Duke made me pause. They must have left the door of the chamber open, so I could hear distinctly and I realized that they were talking about me.

The Duchess was saying: “It is not easy to believe that this could be happening … to her.”

“He is in a strange mood at this time. The shock of the Queen’s arrival … the disappointment.”

“Our girl is exceedingly pretty … in a simple way, of course.”

“But witless.”

“That could be an advantage. Remember …”

“I remember well, madam, and need no reminder. That was a disaster. He turned against the family for a time.”

“But has been won back,” said my grandmother. “If indeed it did come to pass … oh, she is not like that other. She was bold and thought herself clever.”

“More clever than she was in truth,” retorted the Duke grimly.

“Oh … this could be of great good.”

“Gardiner will do his best.”

“So should he, when it is considered what good you have brought to him.”

“But we shall have to be watchful… of her. She is so untutored … young even of her years. But as yet it is merely an interest. His moods are less predictable than ever.”

“We can only wait…”

“Yes, and be watchful.”

There was a slight pause and I wondered whether they had become aware that I was in the anteroom. But, as they had been talking about me and their words were revealing, I was reluctant to go into the room and stop this interesting discussion.

I waited for a few more seconds and, as they had fallen into silence, I went into the room.

“Ah, here is the child,” said my grandmother. “Let me look at the gown. Marry, and it becomes you well. Think you not so, my lord?”

He nodded; and he was smiling to himself.

* * *

I thought a great deal about that conversation I had overheard. They were not the only ones who were excited by the King’s interest in me. I was myself. It was so unexpected, after having been ignored, to be treated with a certain degree of respect.

What made it so pleasant was that I could be natural and that was what the King liked about me. He, who was surrounded by the cleverest and most beautiful women at Court, had shown a preference for the society of little Katherine Howard—witless, as her uncle called her, without education and unable to converse amusingly. All she had to recommend her was a simple prettiness; she was small but slender with it; she had an air of helplessness, a look of innocence, which seemed to make the King want to be gentle with her.

That was what they were saying about me. I did not care. I was going to enjoy being in favor.

Soon after this, I met Thomas Culpepper in the gardens.

“There is much gossip about you and the King,” he said and he looked uneasy.

I laughed. “It is wondrous how people talk,” I said. “I sang and the King liked my song because it was his own. He spoke to me, then I went to the residence of the Bishop of Winchester and the King happened to be there, so he talked to me again. That is all. Is it so very important when the King talks to one of his subjects?”

“It would depend on the manner of the talk,” said Thomas.

“Oh, it was just … talk. He asked if I liked being at Court and I told him what it was like when I was a little girl in my father’s house, that he might judge the difference between that and the Court. Then we talked about music. He loves music. He was very kind.”

“Did it not strike you as strange that he should talk thus to you?”

“Of what else should we talk?”

Thomas looked at me in faint exasperation.

“You know you are very pretty, do you not?”

“I have heard it said,” I replied with some satisfaction.

“Has it not occurred to you that that was why the King spoke to you?”

“He is an old man,” I said.

Thomas’s exasperation increased.

I went on: “My uncle, the Duke, and my grandmother are very pleased. My uncle has never been so gracious to me as he is now.”

“I can well believe it,” said Thomas grimly. “Oh, I like it not.”

Then he put his arms round me and held me tightly.

“Katherine,” he said. “Never forget that you are betrothed to me.”

“We have not been … formally, but I do not forget it was to be. I often think of going away to Hollingbourne. That is what I long for.”

“It shall come to pass.”

“Oh yes. Perhaps soon.”

“They will not accept me now.”

“My grandmother talked of it once.”

“Perhaps it might have been possible … once. But now … not yet.”

“I am eighteen years old. I am no longer young.”

“It must be so, Katherine. It must be.”

“And it shall, Thomas. Be of good cheer. Why are you so downcast?”

“I am afraid, Katherine.”

“You must not be. I love you and you love me—and do not forget they once spoke of our betrothal.”

“That was before you came to Court.”

“It has not changed me.”

He kissed me sadly.

“No,” he said, “you have not changed. It is the world around you that has changed. Katherine, do not cease to love me. I should not wish to live if you did.”

“Thomas,” I assured him. “I shall always love you. No matter what, I am yours.”

THERE WERE RUMORS about the Queen. The King wanted to be rid of her and was more determined on this than he had been even before.

“Poor lady!” said Jane Rochford. “She is very uneasy. Who would not be in her position? She remembers what happened to those who went before her.”

As usual, Jane made it her task to find out all that was going on. She sparkled with excitement, for nothing delighted her more than intrigue and I believe that when it concerned the relationship between the sexes it was of special delight to her.

“They say there is only one way by which he can rid himself of her, and that is to send her to the block, as he did on another occasion with another Queen. But she is too important for that. True, the Duke of Cleves is not a great emperor, but His Majesty cannot afford to offend even a minor power when it could mean sending that power into the camp of one of his enemies. Depend upon it, there will be a divorce.”

“How can he divorce the Queen? She is a good and virtuous lady.”

Jane looked wise.

She said: “Kings have their ways. It is not a matter of turning against her. He disliked her from the moment he saw her. He even said he liked her ill and that she was different from what she had been made out to be by men who had deceived him, and it was woe that she ever came to England. Those were his very words.”

“I think she is a very pleasant lady.”

“It is not for you to judge, Katherine Howard. It is for the King who had to marry her. Let me tell you this. I have heard that his friends are trying to find a way out for him.”

“But how can they? The King is married to her.”

“Oh, marriage can be proved to be no marriage. Did we not see that, with the King’s first wife? His Majesty would forgive a Queen a great deal if she gave him a son. It is his great desire to have a son … in his own image … one whose education and upbringing he himself can watch over. He wants another King Henry to follow when he has gone.”

“To have a son just like himself… that would be the ambition of most men, I believe.”

“Ah, but with the King it goes more deep. He has a throne, and the House of Tudor must stand for ever.” She lowered her voice and came closer to me. “It is not very firm on the ground, is it? There are many who think that the Tudors’ claim to the throne is not very strong. Who was Owen Tudor? True, he was said to have married Queen Catherine, the widow of King Henry V, but was there actually even a ceremony? Who can be sure?”

“Jane!” I cried in dismay.

She laughed, and I noticed that her color had deepened. “Don’t you dare repeat a word of what I have said.”

“You cannot believe I would betray you. But, Jane, be careful. People have lost their heads for voicing such opinions.”

“I go too far, but I trust you, Katherine. You see, I trust you with my life. And are they not interesting … these times we live in? But I go too far. I know I must have a care, eh? You would never betray me. If you did, I would come back after death and haunt you. You would have no peace from me, Katherine Howard.”

“I swear I will say nothing.”

“I know. You are my very good friend, as I am yours. And, in any case, how would you stand? You listened. You joined in.”

“Have no fear. I shall not whisper a word.”

“And I will remember not to be so indiscreet,” said Jane, and went on to be more so.

“The King needs a son. As I said, it is more important to him than anything. It is odd, but the meanest scullion can get a woman with child, yet kings cannot.”

“There are the Lady Mary, Lady Elizabeth and Prince Edward.”

“Poor little boy. A puff of wind would blow him over. Do you know that in his nursery they live in perpetual fear lest some ill befall him and they be blamed? Holy Mother, it would go ill with them if they allowed the boy to get as much as a rheum. You know His Majesty’s wrath when things go wrong! The King blames his wives for his lack of a strong and healthy male heir. He himself is as virile as he has always been. And time is running short for him.” She clapped her hands over her mouth and laughed.

I could not help laughing with her.

“Jane,” I said, “you are the most reckless woman I know.”

“You can go somewhat far in that direction yourself,” she retorted.

“Not as far as you.”

“We will not quarrel about that. What was I saying? He does not think the fault lies with him. He believes that, if he could find a woman who would bear him sons, all would be well.”

“The Queen might do that.”

“She would have no chance when he cannot bring himself to do that which would produce them. What he wants is someone whom he can love, and he believes that one will give him the boy he so much desires. All those years with his first Queen frustrated him. Still-born, weakling … one after another, and only the Lady Mary after all those years; and she is always ailing. Then, of course, our cousin gave him only the Lady Elizabeth, when he had so fervently believed she would give him a son, and she would have done so had she not miscarried.”