Philippa Gregory 3-Book Tudor Collection 1 Read online

  It would take more than a fire to warm this man through. My grandmother says that he is the king’s hammer; whenever there is hard and dirty work to do it is my uncle who leads the English army to batter the enemy into submission. When the North rose up to defend the old religion just two years ago when I was a little girl, it was my uncle who brought the rebels to their senses. He promised them a pardon and then cozened them to the gallows. He saved the king’s throne and he saved the king the trouble of fighting his own battles and putting down a great rebellion. My grandmother says that he knows no other argument but the noose. She says he strung up thousands even though inwardly, he agreed with their cause. His own faith did not stop him. Nothing will stop him. I can see by his face that he is a hard man, a man not easily softened; but he has come to see me and I will show him what sort of niece he has.

  I dip down into a deep curtsey, as we have practised over and over again in the maids’ chamber, leaning a little forwards so that my lord can see the tempting curve of my breasts pressed at the top of my gown. Slowly I look up at his face before I rise, so that he sees me almost on my knees before him, giving him a moment to think about the pleasure of what I could be doing down there, my little nose almost against his breeches. ‘My lord uncle,’ I breathe as I rise, as if I were whispering it in his ear in bed. ‘Give you a very good day, sir.’

  ‘Good God,’ he says bluntly, and my grandmother gives a little ‘Huh’ of amusement.

  ‘She is a … a credit to you, ma’am,’ he says as I rise without wobbling and stand before him. I clasp my hands behind my back to present my breasts to their full advantage, and I arch my back too so that he can admire the slimness of my waist. With my eyes modestly cast down I could be a schoolgirl except for the thrust of my body and the little half-hidden smile.

  ‘She is a Howard girl through and through,’ says my grandmother, who has no great opinion of Howard girls, known as we are for beauty and forwardness.

  ‘I was expecting a child,’ he says as if he is very pleased to find me grown.

  ‘A very knowing child.’ She gives me a hard look to remind me that nobody wants to know what I have learned while in her care. I widen my eyes innocently. I was seven years old when I first saw a maid bedding a pageboy, I was eleven when Henry Manox first got hold of me. How did she think I would turn out?

  ‘She will do very nicely,’ he says, after he has taken a moment to recover. ‘Katherine, can you dance and sing and play the lute and so on?’

  ‘Yes, my lord.’

  ‘Read, write, in English and French, and Latin?’

  I shoot an anguished look at my grandmother. I am tremendously stupid, and everyone knows it. I am so stupid that I don’t even know if I should lie about it or not.

  ‘Why would she need that?’ she asks. ‘The queen speaks nothing but Dutch, doesn’t she?’

  He nods. ‘German. But the king likes an educated woman.’

  The duchess smiles. ‘He did once,’ she says. ‘The Seymour girl was no great philosopher. I think he has lost his taste for argument from his wives. Do you like an educated woman?’

  He gives a little snort at this. The whole world knows that he and his wife have been parted for years, they hate each other so much.

  ‘Anyway, what matters most is that she pleases the queen and pleases the court,’ my uncle rules. ‘Katherine, you are to go to court and be one of the new queen’s maids in waiting.’

  I beam at him.

  ‘You are glad to go?’

  ‘Yes, my lord uncle. I am very grateful,’ I remember to add.

  ‘You have been placed in such a position of importance to be a credit to your family,’ he says solemnly. ‘Your grandmother here tells me you are a good girl and that you know how to behave. Make sure that you do, and don’t let us down.’

  I nod. I dare not look at my grandmother, who knew all about Henry Manox, and who caught me once in the upper hall with Francis, with my hand down the front of his breeches and the mark of his bite on my neck, and called me a whore in the making and a stupid slut, and gave me a cuff that made my head ring, and warned me off him again at Christmas.

  ‘There will be young men who may pay attention to you,’ my uncle warns, as if I have never met a young man before. I dart a look at my grandmother but she is blandly smiling. ‘Remember that nothing is more important than your reputation. Your honour must be without stain. If I hear any unbecoming gossip about you – and I mean anything, and you can be sure that I hear everything – then I will remove you immediately from court and send you not even here, but back to your step-grandmother’s house in the country at Horsham. Where I will leave you forever. Do you understand?’

  ‘Yes, my lord uncle.’ It comes out in a terrified whisper. ‘I promise.’

  ‘I will see you at court almost daily,’ he says. I am almost beginning to wish that I was not going. ‘And from time to time I shall send for you to come to my rooms and tell me how you are getting on with the queen, and so on. You will be discreet and you will not gossip. You will keep your eyes open and your mouth shut. You will take advice from your kinswoman Jane Boleyn, who is also in the queen’s rooms. You will endeavour to become close to the queen, you shall be her little friend. From the favour of princes comes wealth. Never forget it. This could be the making of you, Katherine.’

  ‘Yes, my lord uncle.’

  ‘And another thing,’ he says warningly.

  ‘Yes, uncle?’

  ‘Modesty, Katherine. It is a woman’s greatest asset.’

  I sink into a curtsey, my head bowed, as modest as a nun. A laugh of derision from my grandmother tells me that she is not persuaded. But when I look up my uncle is smiling.

  ‘Convincing. You can go,’ he says.

  I curtsey again and I flee from the room before he can say anything worse. I have been longing to go to court for the dancing and young men and he makes it sound like going into service.

  ‘What did he say? What did he say?’ They are all waiting in the great hall, desperate to know the news.

  ‘I am to go to court!’ I crow. ‘And I am to have new gowns and new hoods and he says I will be the prettiest girl in the queen’s chamber, and there will be dancing every night, and I daresay I will never see any of you ever again.’

  Anne, Calais, December 1539

  The weather to cross the English Sea is, thank God, fair at last, after days of delay. I hoped that I would have a letter from home before we set sail, but though we have had to wait and wait for good weather for the crossing, no-one has written to me. I thought that Mother might have written to me; even if she is not missing me I thought she might have sent me some words of advice. I thought Amelia might already be hoping for a visit to England and might write me a letter of sisterly greeting. I could almost laugh at myself tonight, to think how low my spirits must be if I am wanting a letter from Amelia.

  The only one I was certain of was my brother. I was sure I would have a letter from him. He never regained his temper with me, not in all the long preparation of leaving, and we parted on the terms that we have lived all our lives: on my side with a resentful fearfulness of his power, and on his side with an irritation that he cannot voice. I thought that he might write to me to appoint me with business to transact at the English court; surely I should be representing my country and our interests? But there are all the Cleves lords who are travelling with me, no doubt he has spoken or written to them. He must have decided that I am not fit to do business for him.

  I thought at any rate that he was certain to write to me to lay down rules for my conduct. After all, he has spent his life dominating me, I did not think he would just let me go. But it seems I am free of him. Instead of being glad of that, I am uneasy. It is strange to leave my family, and none of them even send me Godspeed.

  We are to set sail tomorrow in the early morning to catch the tide and I am waiting in my rooms in the king’s house, the Chequer, for Lord Lisle to come for me when I hear something like an argum