Partywas in the ascendant. Sometimes she mentioned Edward and shook her head over him. He was so young for such responsibility.
I replied that Edward was not allowed to have much responsibility. There were those who told him exactly what to do.
“Meaning Edward Seymour,” said my stepmother, her lips tightening a little.
“Who else?” I asked. “Who commands the King but his uncles and their family?”
“It is Lord Hertford—now the Duke of Somerset—who sets himself up as master of us all,” she replied. “And his wife would do the same if she could. I never could abide Anne Stanhope—a greedy, ambitious woman, highly suitable for Somerset, I dare swear. Oh, it is my lord Somerset who is our King now. I have always thought that my lord Admiral should share the responsibility of looking after the King. I am sure he would prefer Thomas to Edward Seymour.”
I agreed that he would.
My stepmother had grown pink with annoyance. She really did dislike the Duchess.
“Do you know,” she went on, “I verily believe the elder Seymours plan to marry their daughter to the King.”
“They would never do that,” I said. “He should have someone royal.”
“They say how interesting it would be to have another Jane Seymour as the Queen.”
“Jane Seymour the first was not so fortunate,” I cried. “She bore Edward but did not live to see him grow up.”
“Edward is very fond of Jane Grey,” said my stepmother tentatively. “She is such a clever, good girl.”
“Oh yes,” I replied with a touch of asperity, “she is a model of virtue.” I was a little tired of hearing of the brilliant scholastic attainments of Jane Grey. I could challenge her in that field, of course, but I could not match her saintliness and it was that which irritated me. Jane Grey has no spirit, I used to say.
My stepmother understood and laughed at me. “Edward thinks so, I am sure,” she said.
“I wish I could see him more often,” I went on. “I wish he would come here and we could all be as we used to be.”
“He is the King now, Elizabeth.”
“Well, why should he not live with the Dowager Queen?”
“If he were a little younger…”
“Everyone is saying if only he were a little older! Poor Edward, I don't think he is half as happy as he was when we were all together.”
And so we talked and very often I was tempted to tell her of Thomas Seymour's proposal and that I had seen fit to refuse him. But I never did. Something seemed to warn me to keep it to myself.
One evening Kat was seated at the window. It was dark and I was just on the point of retiring to bed. She stood up suddenly in a state of great excitement and cried: “My lady, I saw him!”
“Saw whom?” I demanded.
Her eyes were round with wonder as she whispered: “My Lord Admiral.”
“At this hour! I don't believe it.”
I was at the window. She went on whispering: “I thought he was going in at the main door, but he moved away—round to the side…”
“I believe you dream of the Admiral. Really, Kat, if Mr Ashley knew he could be jealous, and certainly very angry that his wife should talk in such an unseemly fashion of another man.”
“Oh, he would know it is not for me that the Admiral comes into the Palace.”
“And suppose it was the Admiral? For whom should he come sneaking into the Palace?”
“For one fair lady…my lady Elizabeth… whom one day I am going to call Her Majesty.”
“Kat, you are mad. If you talk so, you will find yourself lodged in the Tower one fine day. Have you no sense? How could you have seen him at this hour?”
“I would know him anywhere.”
“Let us wait and watch awhile. If he has come calling at this time of the evening, my stepmother will soon send him away. I'll swear it was one of the grooms you saw going round to the back of the Palace. You conjure up images of that man out of nothing.”
“My lady, did you ever see a groom who looked like my Lord Admiral?”
“No.”
“Then wait
I replied that Edward was not allowed to have much responsibility. There were those who told him exactly what to do.
“Meaning Edward Seymour,” said my stepmother, her lips tightening a little.
“Who else?” I asked. “Who commands the King but his uncles and their family?”
“It is Lord Hertford—now the Duke of Somerset—who sets himself up as master of us all,” she replied. “And his wife would do the same if she could. I never could abide Anne Stanhope—a greedy, ambitious woman, highly suitable for Somerset, I dare swear. Oh, it is my lord Somerset who is our King now. I have always thought that my lord Admiral should share the responsibility of looking after the King. I am sure he would prefer Thomas to Edward Seymour.”
I agreed that he would.
My stepmother had grown pink with annoyance. She really did dislike the Duchess.
“Do you know,” she went on, “I verily believe the elder Seymours plan to marry their daughter to the King.”
“They would never do that,” I said. “He should have someone royal.”
“They say how interesting it would be to have another Jane Seymour as the Queen.”
“Jane Seymour the first was not so fortunate,” I cried. “She bore Edward but did not live to see him grow up.”
“Edward is very fond of Jane Grey,” said my stepmother tentatively. “She is such a clever, good girl.”
“Oh yes,” I replied with a touch of asperity, “she is a model of virtue.” I was a little tired of hearing of the brilliant scholastic attainments of Jane Grey. I could challenge her in that field, of course, but I could not match her saintliness and it was that which irritated me. Jane Grey has no spirit, I used to say.
My stepmother understood and laughed at me. “Edward thinks so, I am sure,” she said.
“I wish I could see him more often,” I went on. “I wish he would come here and we could all be as we used to be.”
“He is the King now, Elizabeth.”
“Well, why should he not live with the Dowager Queen?”
“If he were a little younger…”
“Everyone is saying if only he were a little older! Poor Edward, I don't think he is half as happy as he was when we were all together.”
And so we talked and very often I was tempted to tell her of Thomas Seymour's proposal and that I had seen fit to refuse him. But I never did. Something seemed to warn me to keep it to myself.
One evening Kat was seated at the window. It was dark and I was just on the point of retiring to bed. She stood up suddenly in a state of great excitement and cried: “My lady, I saw him!”
“Saw whom?” I demanded.
Her eyes were round with wonder as she whispered: “My Lord Admiral.”
“At this hour! I don't believe it.”
I was at the window. She went on whispering: “I thought he was going in at the main door, but he moved away—round to the side…”
“I believe you dream of the Admiral. Really, Kat, if Mr Ashley knew he could be jealous, and certainly very angry that his wife should talk in such an unseemly fashion of another man.”
“Oh, he would know it is not for me that the Admiral comes into the Palace.”
“And suppose it was the Admiral? For whom should he come sneaking into the Palace?”
“For one fair lady…my lady Elizabeth… whom one day I am going to call Her Majesty.”
“Kat, you are mad. If you talk so, you will find yourself lodged in the Tower one fine day. Have you no sense? How could you have seen him at this hour?”
“I would know him anywhere.”
“Let us wait and watch awhile. If he has come calling at this time of the evening, my stepmother will soon send him away. I'll swear it was one of the grooms you saw going round to the back of the Palace. You conjure up images of that man out of nothing.”
“My lady, did you ever see a groom who looked like my Lord Admiral?”
“No.”
“Then wait
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