Prisoner of the Queen (Tales From the Tudor Court) (32 page)

The crack of on
e ball hitting another shattered the air, followed by loud cheers from male and female courtiers.

I hurried my steps, my slippers becoming damp in the grass. When I reached the field, I saw that Elizabeth had been the one to hit her opponent, Robert Dudley
’s, ball from its place, naming her the winner.

She glanced up at me then,
and her wide smile, showing her youth and energy, was quickly washed from her face. I curtsied low. “Majesty.”

“Good of you to join us,
cousin. Should you like to play?”

I was surprised by her invitation, and she opened her arm
, indicating I should join her.

“Cousin against cousin!” some idiotic courtier shouted.

I cringed, flashed a glare at the courtier who’s spoken. Cousin versus cousin. As if we were not already seen as such in Elizabeth’s eyes. Why bring such a potent poison to her mind?

“Indeed,” Elizabeth said, flicking her hand in the air as though swiping away the courtier’s remark.

I smiled half-heartedly. Boules was a game I’d grown quite superior at, and the queen was well aware of it. But no matter, not today. She needed to see that I was loyal to her, that she had nothing to fear from me, even in a silly game of boules.

The
queen always won.

Chapter F
ifteen

Yet small account of Fortune new,

he made for still in breast:

Was shrined the saint, that stony walls,

and prison had possessed.

No fear nor friend nor fellow mate,

this troubled mind might move…

~Thomas Churchyard

Elizabethan Solider and
poet

July 5, 1560

“He is not coming.”

I glanced up from the silk gown of silver I held in my hands to see Jane Seymour’s crestfallen face. I knew at once of whom she spoke. The dress fell to the opened chest beside my bed. “Why?” My voice betrayed my pain.

Jane let out a long sigh and came toward me, taking my hand in her reassuring grasp. “He says he has business to attend, but sha
ll come directly whilst we are in the midst of the queen’s progress.”

“What does that mean?
” For months he’d told me that he would attend court, and then came the promise that he’d be here for the progress, yet I feared he avoided doing so as though the Black Plague had descended upon us.

I suspected his mother had scared him away from the progress. She feared for our continued affection, knowing that Elizabeth was against it—but why should she?

Jane bit her lip and nodded. “I know ’tis how it appears, Kat.”

“
’Tis more than how it appears! I have not laid eyes on him in so very long. I feel he has abandoned all promises of affection.”

“Do not say such things
. He loves you more each day.”

“How am I to know?
”

Jane frowned
, her gaze moving to the tapestry rug. “You are not, if he does not tell you. I fear my brother has never been one to write letters or keep in communiqué with anyone. My mother did lament of him when he was fostered out of that very same thing. ’Tis a flaw, ’tis a weakness, but does not mean he feels naught for you, or that he does not think of you.”

Hope sparked.
“Does he mention me to you, Jane?”

Jane nodded, her eyes sparkling. “He says the most wondrous things. He truly is a romantic at heart, Kat. Forgive him his fault of working overmuch and not attending on you.
’Tis not meant to slight.”

“I will try to remember
.” I sighed heavily and picked up the silken gown. Mrs. Helen had not placed it among my things to be packed for our summer progress, but I could not leave it behind. Squatters came to the castles when we departed—’twas a known fact. Who would not wish to live in a castle? As cold and bleak as it was, it was an improvement over living in squalor beneath London Bridge. I could not bear for this gown—given to me by Queen Mary—to be stolen or destroyed. “Do tell me the wondrous things he says. If I cannot hear them from Ned, where better than from your lips?”

The smile returned to Jane
’s pretty face, so much like her mother’s but without the bitter pinch of years of strain. “He says how he cannot wait to run his fingers through the silken gold upon your head. How the night sky shines and sparkles and reminds him of your eyes. How his heart aches from not being able to walk with you. That he misses besting you at cards. That he should like to dance the night away with you. Then he whispers something about hope and dreams that hope will not die.”

“Oh, it w
ill not die!” My breath caught in my throat. I recalled his words so long ago when we were both mere children dancing at my first wedding. He did love me! He did care! And somehow I would have to learn that his flaw of not writing did not mean he was absent of heart and mind, but simply absentminded.

Finished in my chamber, Jane and I
were passing through the corridors on our way to Elizabeth’s chambers when loud shouts, crashes and shrieks echoed off the walls.

“
’Tis coming from the queen’s room,” Jane said, her eyes wide as saucers.

My heart skipped a beat
. I took Jane’s hand in mine, and we rushed the rest of the way, bursting into the queen’s presence chamber. Courtiers milled about, speaking in hushed tones, gesturing widely with their hands.

“What is happening?” I asked Bess St. Loe and Blanche
Parry, who huddled beside the queen’s chamber door.

“Her Majesty has just heard the most awful news,” Blanche said, her eyes looking dull and disinterested—almost as if the temper flaring beyond the
privy chamber door were something that happened most days.

“What has happened?”

Blanche barely looked at me. “Yet another threatens her position.”

My mouth went dry. Could she be speaking of me? Is that why she refused to look in my direction
? But surely not. If it were me she referred to, she most likely would not speak to me at all. To associate one’s self with a traitor was to call one’s self a traitor.

The doors rattled as something crashed against them,
followed by another round of shouts from Elizabeth and a few choice words. Robert Dudley pushed his way through the throng of courtiers to the privy chamber door and was admitted by the queen’s yeomen without question.

“Oh, Robin! The witch will have me undone!” we heard Elizabeth lament before the door was closed firmly again.

“What news?” Jane Seymour asked, her gaze pointed at Bess, who would most likely give us a straighter answer than the one we received from Blanche.

Bess shook her head. “
’Tis quite an offense, truly. Mary, Queen of the Scots, is considering not signing the treaty to unite England and Scotland. Upon her crest, she has placed Tudor roses along with the Stuart emblem. She does not recognize Elizabeth as the rightful monarch and instead fancies herself the Queen of England. There are many in the Catholic realms who are backing her claim.”

My mouth
fell open, and I sucked in a breath. Would Elizabeth finally feel some of the fear that my sister Jane had felt? ’Twas a fitting punishment. If things went wrong…it might be Elizabeth with her head on the block. And yet, though I did not like my cousin, I wouldn’t even dream of seeing her in the same position my sister had been in. “Surely you jest!”

“I jest not,” Bess said, shaking her head. “The
queen is most displeased. I suspect she will go after Scotland—Mary still resides in France. Scotland is not protected as well with her out of the country. But I do not claim to know much of politics.” Bess waved away her words as if she did not know why she’d spoken them.

Despite her dismissing her own comments, I knew better. Elizabeth would retaliate
, and it would not be pretty.

The
privy chamber door yanked open, and a well-put-together, despite her fierce show of temper, Queen Elizabeth poked her head out. “There you are, daughter.”

Her gaze was directed at me, but I knew she could not be speaking to me. I turned my head, but saw no one standing behind me.

“Come, Kitty-Kat. You know I meant you. I told you once before I would adopt you, my fair daughter, now come.”

Kitty-Kat?

The queen’s eyes were a fiery blue. Indeed, she looked half-mad. I knew then that I must do her bidding. Become like her daughter if she required it. It was the only way to survive. If I did not, she might suspect I, too, was against her. I swallowed hard and walked through the presence chamber, ignoring the whispers and jibes from courtiers. Once more I was a plaything to a sovereign. I could never escape it. Apparently, the queen would retaliate against our mutual cousin, and I was the means by which to do so.

Elizabeth widened the door as I approached, and I walked in somberly to the faces of Master Cecil, Lord Robert, her new henchman Walsingham,
Nicholas White, our cousin Lettice Knollys, and the queen’s own companion, Kat Astley.

The door closed behind me with an audible click that echoed within my ears
. I could physically sense the air changing around me. Where the presence was filled with jealousy and thick tension, the privy had a much deeper, darker emotion. I nearly choked on it.

“I have decided that I will indeed adopt you, Kat. Let these people be my witnesses.
We will soon draw up the papers.”

I started to shake my head, glancing around the room. My fingers started to tingle before going numb. I wanted to shout
,
No!
To run. But my feet were frozen to the floor. The men in the room showed no expression, except for Cecil, who always appeared to be calculating something. Kat Astley looked at me fondly, most likely remembering Elizabeth when she was younger, as many at court often said I looked like a younger version of my cousin. Truth be told, however, Lettice looked the spitting image of Elizabeth, minus a few years. She was truly beautiful, and while her face showed no hint of emotion, her gaze burned into mine. I could sense from her eyes she resented me, perhaps for taking the place at Elizabeth’s side that she herself had hoped to occupy.

“Well, Katherine, do you not have anything to say on the matter?” Elizabeth prompted, although I
was not sure why, as she would only toss me in the Tower if I were to say otherwise.

“I am
…much honored, Majesty.” I curtsied deeply, keeping my gaze directed at the floor. There was nothing to do but agree or be beaten into it. The hairs on my arms and the back of my neck rose. I felt as though I were within a den of hungry lions. Any sudden moves and I would be pounced on, my throat ripped out, my cries for mercy unheeded.

“As you should be.
You shall ride beside me while on progress, and you will need ladies to attend you—more than you have now. I want all within the realm to know the exalted position you hold within this court. You, Lady Katherine Grey, are a Tudor princess of the blood, and as such, you shall be treated just one step below me in this court.”

Was Elizabeth naming me her heir without saying the words?

My royal cousin turned to Cecil and winged a brow. “She dares to name herself Queen of England? We shall show her that her declarations mean nothing. Send troops to Scotland while we are on progress. By fall, I want this mess disposed of.”

My eyes widened only slightly.
Bess was right… The queen would strike out while Scotland was weak, and by possibly naming me her daughter and setting precedence with my status in her court, she was showing all of Europe that England was strong.

“I feel quite exhausted
now. Leave me. I must rest before we depart nigh on an hour.” The group filed from the room, but before I could leave, Elizabeth’s long, slim fingers curled around my arm. “Do not do anything stupid, cousin. I may have elevated you in all else’s eyes, but ’tis words only. I know as well as the sun will set and rise that should I turn my back for a second, you will be there with a dagger.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but she made a hissing noise with her mouth meant to silence me. “
’Tis no use, Kat. I tried the very same lamentations with my sister Mary, and in the end, do you know what she did? She imprisoned me. More than once. She did not trust me. Even on the day she died, she begrudgingly handed her realm to me. ‘Twill always be the way of things.”