The Last Tudor

WHITEHALL PALACE, LONDON,

WINTER 1564

While I wait and hope for a reply, Sir William Cecil walks beside me in the gallery one day, shortening his long stride to my little paces, and bending down so that he can see my face.

“I hear that you have written to your sister?”

I imagine he read the letter the minute that I gave it to my page and asked him to deliver it to Katherine at Ingatestone. Indeed, the last paragraph was written for the queen to see.

“Yes,” I say guardedly. “No one told me that I was not allowed to write to her. I was inquiring after her health and assuring her of my sisterly love.”

“The letter was perfectly allowable,” he assures me. He stops and, with a little tip of his head, invites me to sit beside him in a window seat, where he can see my face without stooping. I pull over a low stool and use it as a step to climb up. He knows that I do not want assistance, and when I am settled, he sits beside me.

“I have sorrowful news for you about Lord Hertford,” he says.

My first thought is that my brother-in-law has died. I think that the news will be the end of my sister. I grit my teeth and say nothing. I raise my eyes to his face and wait for him to speak.

“He has been taken from the care of his mother and sent to live with Sir John Mason in his house in London,” William Cecil says.

“Why?”

The old courtier shrugs his shoulders, as if to tell me that he cannot say, and anyway, I know as well as he does that there will be no good reason. Elizabeth has no cause for her spite against Ned and his little boy, my sister’s son, except that he was at her court and fell in love with another woman. “I am sorry for it,” he says heavily.

“And Teddy, the little boy, goes with his father?”

Cecil bows his head. “No.”

I can hardly speak for distress. “Where has she taken Katherine’s boy?”

“He is left with his grandmother at Hanworth. He can live more freely with her in his family home.”

“Raised as an orphan?”

“In his family home, by his grandmother. He will be safe under her guidance.”

“My God, Katherine will be heartbroken!”

Elizabeth’s advisor knows all about heartbreak. He only nods.

I steady myself. “Is there anything we can do?” I ask quietly. “Anything? Is there anything we can do to get them all back together again?”

“Not yet,” he says gently. “But I have some hopes.”

“What?”

“If the Scots marriage between the queen and Robert Dudley is given up, then the Scots queen will never be named as heir to England. Our queen will see that she has no heir but Lady Katherine.”

“And is the marriage between the Queen of Scots and Robert Dudley given up?” I ask.

Cecil chooses his words. “The Scots have called the bluff,” he says quietly. “They have said that they will accept him, if their queen is declared heir to England. They have invited him to Edinburgh, but now that it comes to it, I think Her Majesty won’t order him to go. We cannot deliver Robert Dudley. He will stay in England.”

This is enormous news that William Cecil tells me so quietly. Once again, there is no Protestant heir but my sister. As I take a shuddering breath I see that William Cecil is watching me.

“Whatever Her Majesty wishes,” I say humbly.

William Cecil nods his approval. “I am sure she will judge rightly.”

He draws a letter from inside his black velvet jacket. “This came first to me, as it must. But it is for you. I am sorry there is no good news.”

I look at the broken seal. It is from Katherine. I smile at her defiance. She is using the Seymour seal of angel wings on her folded letter. The seal has been broken and the letter read. Sir William’s spies see everything. He gets to his feet, bows to me, and leaves me to read my letter from my sister.

Dearest Mary,

I thank you for your letter and your good wishes. I am afraid they come too late for me. I think my heart is broken at being parted from my husband and my darling boy, and I can neither eat nor sleep. My marriage, which started with a feast in bed, is ending in hunger and lonely wakeful nights.

I know that you and all our friends have done your best to explain to Her Gracious Majesty that I meant no wrong, and that all my offenses were for love, not for gain.

I hope that I may be freed, and my little boys. If I should die, Mary, I do pray that you will care for them and tell them how much I loved them, and their father. I hope that you can find happiness and perhaps love. If you have a chance of either, I hope that you can take it.

Farewell, good sister

Katherine