Secrets of the Tudor Court Boxed Set (103 page)

I did not lack for partners when the general dancing began. Harry Dudley was the first of many. Midway through the evening, I even danced with that august personage, the Earl of Surrey, but he seemed less interested in me than in watching Lady Hertford. I had to admit that she was an attractive woman, and an excellent dancer, but she was somewhat older than Surrey and she did have that reputation as a shrew. I could not imagine what it was about her that so fascinated him. When she noticed him staring, she shot back a look of pure loathing.

“Does Lady Hertford’s husband disapprove of Surrey’s antics?” I asked Davy Seymour when he requested the next dance, “Or is it the lady herself who dislikes him?”

Davy was kin to Edward Seymour, Earl of Hertford. He gave a bark of laughter. “She despises both the man and his poetry. On another evening such as this, she refused his invitation to dance. He retaliated in verse, a poem wherein a wolf acts ‘with spite and disdain’ to a lion, although she is an interloper of the most common sort and the lion’s antecedents are far superior.”

“An allegory, I presume?” The music began and I curtsied.

Davy bowed deeply in response. “And not a very subtle one. The Seymour family seat is called Wulf Hall, while a white lion is one of the Howard family’s emblems.”

I stole another glance at the Earl of Surrey as I danced. He chatted with the Duke of Najera and Queen Kathryn. Although he stood a step below them, as was proper, everything about him shouted that he considered himself their equal, perhaps even their better. I thought him very foolish to be so bold.

The evening ended when the queen ordered that gifts be brought forth to present to the duke. After accepting them, Najera kissed Queen
Kathryn’s hand in parting and asked if he might be permitted to also kiss Princess Mary’s hand. The king’s daughter laughed and offered him her lips instead.

Mary Tudor was no beauty, but she had a pleasing appearance, with a clear complexion, regular features, dark red-gold hair, and a slender build. Najera was happy to comply. Then he declared that he must bid farewell in the same manner to every other lady present. Amid much laughter and goodwill he made his way around the presence chamber.

I was awaiting my turn when Will suddenly reappeared at my side. Without a by-your-leave, he hauled me into a nearby alcove. “You’ll kiss no man but me,” he whispered, and caught my lips with his.

This was no gentle wooing but rather a full-scale assault on my senses. His hands swept down my back to caress my bottom and pull me tight against his hardness. His tongue teased the seam of my mouth until I let him in. Thrilled, I reveled in his masterful lovemaking. The feel and smell of him surrounded me, wrapping me in a cocoon that blocked out everything else. I wanted that wickedly wonderful moment to last forever, but it was not to be.

Will released me. “I must go,” he whispered.

Leaving me dazed and shaken, he rejoined the Spaniard’s party. I touched trembling fingers to my lips. With that display of possessiveness and need, Will had stolen much more than a kiss. I’d lost my heart to him . . . and perhaps my soul.

13

F
or months after that evening, I was never alone with Will for more than a few moments at a time. Frequent moves from one royal palace to another—fifteen of them between January and May—put some of the barriers in our path. But my greatest rival was war with France. King Henry was determined upon invasion and Will was deeply involved in the preparations.

On the twentieth day of March, Lord Lisle visited his wife’s lodgings to bid her farewell. “I leave in the morning for Harwich,” he announced. He was King Henry’s lord admiral, and his flagship, together with most of the fleet, waited there to embark. The first expedition would be against Scotland, since the Scots always attacked England when England invaded France. Lord Lisle’s orders were to take the ships north to join the Earl of Hertford’s land forces. They intended to make a preemptive strike.

Lady Lisle received the news in her usual placid manner. “Is all in readiness, my dear? Have you everything you need?”

His full lips twitched. “This is not my first campaign, Jane.”

“Nor will it be the last. What of Harry? War is new to him.”

My hand stilled in the middle of embroidering a rose and I glanced up in time to see Lord Lisle frown. Lady Lisle’s gaze had returned to her stitches but, like mine, her fingers were no longer moving. Lord Lisle placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“Harry has been trained for war. He is eager for the opportunity to prove his mettle.”

“To risk his life, you mean.” Abruptly, Lady Lisle’s calm shattered. “I am surprised you do not take Jack, as well.”

“Next time,” Lisle said in all seriousness.

His wife burst into tears.

“Jane?” Lisle backed up a step. “What is the matter?”

Jane Lisle bolted for the inner room, closely followed by her bewildered spouse. I started to go after them, but Bridget caught my arm.

“Let them be,” she said. “My lady has something of importance to tell her lord.”

I sat down again, braced for an emotional scene. No wife who cared for her husband and son could fail to be upset when they went off to war. I was worried myself about Will, and for that matter about Harry and Davy and my father. Men died in battle, but they never seemed to be concerned about that possibility beforehand. They actually looked forward to risking their lives in combat.

I took up my needle again, but Bridget and I could hear every word Lady Lisle said to her husband.

“I am going to have another child,” she announced. “It is due in September.”

“Excellent news!”

To judge by the soft rustling sounds that followed, Lord Lisle took his wife in his arms and she nestled against him. I felt heat creep into my cheeks as I continued to stitch. It should not surprise me that they shared intimacies. Lady Lisle had conceived eleven children in the last eighteen years. But the thought of them going to their naked bed made me uncomfortable. They were so old! Was it truly possible they could
derive as much excitement and pleasure from kissing and coupling as did people my own age?

When low moans and hushed whispers issued from the inner chamber, I had my answer. I sighed, longing for Will, dreaming of the day when he could carry me off to bed and show me the delights of wedded bliss.

14

I
n a battle at Leith in May, the Scots were soundly defeated. Right after that, all the English troops were ordered to Calais for the invasion of France. Even the Earl of Surrey went, at the head of his own company. And my father, who had been in Scotland, attached to the Earl of Hertford, was appointed lord deputy of Calais.

In late June, Lord Lisle and his son returned to court, which was then at Greenwich Palace, so that they could travel to France in the king’s retinue. Harry Dudley sought me out soon after they arrived.

“Walk with me,” he invited, and we set off on the path along the riverfront. The Thames was crowded with large ships. A few were headed upstream to London with the usual cargoes, but most were part of the Royal Navy on their way out to sea to join the fleet.

Harry regaled me with stories of his time in Scotland and I could tell he was looking forward to the coming campaign against France. He expected to return home with a knighthood.

“I am to leave soon, too,” I said. “Your lady mother intends to retire to Halden Hall to await the birth of her child.” She was not the only
one of the queen’s inner circle who was breeding. Lady Hertford had gone to her new house near Richmond, called Sheen after the religious house that had once stood there, and Lady Herbert—sister to both Will Parr and Queen Kathryn—was at Hanworth Manor, one of the queen’s dower properties, for her lying-in.

Harry made a face. “One more addition to the brood. I’d have thought there were enough of us already. Will you miss life at court?”

“I like being at the center of things, but with all you gentlemen off fighting the war, the court will be a very dull place.”

“Not even Jack is staying.” Harry scooped up a flat rock and sent it skimming across the water.

“Is he bound for France, too?” Jack would be pleased if that were so. He’d chafed at being left behind when his father and brother set off for Scotland.

“Have you not heard?” Harry asked with a slightly superior air that annoyed me. “Prince Edward is to have his own establishment at Hampton Court. Jack has been assigned to His Grace’s new household.”

“That is a great honor,” I said, although I suspected that Jack would have preferred to go and fight. The prince was only six years old, the same age the Duke of Richmond had been when Will Parr joined his household.

We reached the dock, turned, and started back the way we had come.

“Will you miss me, Bess?” Harry asked, suddenly serious.

“I am sure I will think of you as often as you think of me,” I quipped.

“Give me something before I go, then, to keep you daily in my thoughts.”

“A token? What would you have? I suppose I could cut off a lock of my hair, or—”

Harry caught my hand to pull me to a halt. When he took me in his arms and lowered his head, I went up on my toes to kiss him. He’d been practicing, I thought, enjoying the feel of his lips moving expertly on mine.

“Lie with me, Bess,” he whispered.

I jerked back.

“Just one time before I leave. What if I die in battle without our ever knowing the joy of coupling?”

That he was risking his life in a war frightened me, but I sent him off to France with no more than another kiss or two and a few stolen caresses to remember me by.

15

T
he king’s retinue left for Calais on the ninth day of July. It included Lord Lisle, Harry Dudley, and Will Parr. I found no opportunity to say farewell to Will in private. Indeed, I did my best to avoid being alone with him. The temptation I could resist with Harry would have been impossible to overcome with Will.

For months, I had told myself repeatedly that it was foolish to waste my life pining for a man I could not marry. It was not as if I could not live happily with another. Harry Dudley and I would suit very well. When he returned from France, I might even tell him so. But at the public parting of the king and queen, it was not Harry I looked for, but Will.

He stood well back in the crowd of courtiers, while I was at the rear of the queen’s contingent. And yet he must have felt me staring at him. When he turned his head my way, our eyes locked. Tears blinded me before I finally forced myself to look away.

Once the king was gone, Queen Kathryn, who would serve as His Grace’s regent in his absence, moved from Greenwich to Whitehall. The Earl of Hertford and other councilors left behind to advise her went
along. Lady Lisle and I set off in the opposite direction, journeying into Kent, where Lady Lisle’s younger children awaited us at Halden Hall.

Ambrose was the oldest of those still at home. At fourteen, he was about three years junior to Jack. Mary, nearly thirteen, came next, then Robert, who had just passed his twelfth birthday. Guildford—called Gil by the family—was a year younger than Robert. The second child to be christened in honor of the king, called Henry to distinguish him from Harry, was eight. Lady Lisle had given birth to four other children, too, but they had died.

The Dudleys were a lively lot, barely kept in check by their tutors. To my surprise, young Mary shared her brothers’ lessons. I confess that I envied her. When I’d told Father that I wanted to learn everything my brother William did, he’d declared that it was unnecessary for a girl to master more than simple ciphering and the ability to read and write. Even the latter skill was considered extravagant by some noblemen, since there were always clerks available to pen letters for ladies.

Messages from France arrived almost daily at Halden Hall. We rejoiced at the news of the fall of Boulogne to our English troops. I was relieved to learn that no one I knew had been killed in the fighting.

A week later a royal messenger brought a letter to Lady Lisle. She read it in her bedchamber, where she had already been sequestered in anticipation of the birth of her child. All the curtains were pulled tight across shuttered windows, not to keep out the unseasonably cold weather but because tradition dictated that a noblewoman in childbed should be protected from the harmful outside air. Such dark, oppressive surroundings disturbed me, as did seeing Lady Lisle so pale and bloated, but I was careful to hide my uneasiness.

“The queen has asked for you, Bess,” Lady Lisle informed me. “She has an opening in her household and wishes you to fill it. Dorothy Bray has married Edmund Brydges and can no longer serve as a maid of honor.”

“Ned
married
her?”

“So it seems.” Lady Lisle absently massaged her bulging belly, making
me wonder if Dorothy had caught a child. “The queen is currently on progress in Surrey and Kent with the royal children. You are to join her at Eltham Palace at the end of the month. In the meantime, if you wish, you may spend a few days with your family. At present they are at Cobham Hall with my dear friend, the senior Lady Cobham.”

Although my parents and siblings lived for most of the year at Cowling Castle, they left it periodically to allow for a thorough cleaning. At those times, they often visited my father’s stepmother at Cobham Hall, which had been left to her for life by my grandfather. The house had originally been built as a hunting lodge and was located in the center of a park well stocked with deer.

“My father is still in Calais,” I said.

“And likely to remain there for some time,” Lady Lisle said. “The lord deputy usually resides there. If we were not at war, your mother would no doubt have joined him.”

It was difficult to imagine Mother living anywhere but Kent, but I did not contradict Lady Lisle. Nor did I refuse the opportunity to visit my family. The entire household gathered to welcome me to Cobham Hall. They already knew that I was to become a maid of honor and everyone was pleased for me, especially Kate. I could tell she was only waiting until we were alone to pepper me with questions.