The Rose Without a Thorn (18 page)

Should I be called upon to sing? Now that I was at this brilliant assembly, all my delight in the prospect disappeared. I wanted to hide away, watch them all and not be seen. Even more did I feel this when I saw that among the guests arriving at the Bishop’s house was my Uncle Norfolk. I hoped his eyes would not alight on me.

To my surprise, I was given a place at the high table.

“Because,” whispered the Countess, who happened to be close to me, “it may be that you will be called upon to sing. Be ready. Have you your lute with you?”

I said I had, and began to tremble with apprehension. I felt very insignificant.

The King sat in the center of the high table, looking out over the room; on his right was the Bishop, on his left my uncle. I recognized others; the King’s brother-in-law, the Earl of Suffolk, the Earl of Southampton, the Earl of Hertford and Sir Thomas Seymour. I was right at the end of the table with my back to the room.

It gave me an opportunity to look at the King. I had to do this surreptitiously, as I had been warned not to stare; and I knew that if I were found guilty of any unseemly conduct, this would be the last time I went to a banquet.

There sat the King, grand and glittering in his padded surcoat, with its puffed sleeves, which made him look even bigger than he really was. Jewels as big as eggs glittered in his garments, and his fingers shone with them as they moved.

The table was laden with food. I had never seen so much. I thought fleetingly of the days in my father’s house when there was often not even enough for all of us. There were several kinds of fish and pies of all shapes; the pastry of many of these had been formed into the shape of crowns or Tudor roses. Scullions were dashing to and fro, carrying dishes of sucking-pig, hot and steaming.

The King took the food in his hands and ate with relish, while the Bishop watched him eagerly, well pleased. Whenever the King spoke, everyone was silent, listening attentively. My uncle looked subdued and humble, as he had in the gardens.

The meal had been going on for some time and several of the guests were nodding over their wine. Then one of the ladies started to sing in a high treble voice which could scarcely be heard above the conversation. Her song over, another began to sing.

They will not want to hear me, I comforted myself. They really pay little attention to the singing. I wonder why they want anyone to do it.

The singing had ceased, and I was suddenly aware of my uncle’s eyes on me. I felt uneasy. Had I committed some fault? What? I had just been sitting quietly, listening. What could I have done?

The Duke nodded to someone. I could not see to whom. I told myself I was mistaken. He had not really been looking at me.

Then I felt a tap on my shoulder. A young man was standing immediately behind me. He picked up the lute, which was at my feet, and put it into my hands.

“My Lord Duke wishes you to sing, Mistress,” said the young man.

“My Lord Duke!” I looked along the table. There was no doubt now. His eyes were on me, cold, critical. My fingers trembled. They would not do as I wished. Frantically, I forced them to pluck at the lute and the feel of the instrument immediately gave me courage. I made myself think of the music-room, and pretended I was alone. I would play and sing as though to myself. I knew I could both play and sing well. I had so few accomplishments that I must be aware of this one which was mine. And no one was listening. They were all too interested in their own conversation.

I began to sing. I was playing a tune which I loved: and I was playing for myself.

When I stopped I was aware of a silence around the table. I looked in the direction of my uncle, and I saw that the King was gazing straight at me. There was a glazed look in his eyes.

He spoke then. “’Twas well sung,” he said. “Who is the lady?”

My uncle replied: “She is Katherine Howard, Your Majesty.”

“Ha!” said the King with a laugh. “One of your brood, Norfolk, with such a name.”

“My niece, Sire.”

“Is she of the Court?”

“Lady-in-waiting to the Queen, Your Majesty.”

At the mention of the Queen’s name, the King’s expression darkened. Then he glanced at me and looked pleased again.

“Niece, eh?” he said.

“My brother Edmund’s daughter,” the Duke told him.

“Very pretty,” said the King, smiling directly at me.

“Your Majesty is gracious,” replied my uncle.

“’Tis but the truth, Norfolk. Methinks I should speak to her, compliment her on her singing.”

My uncle came round the table to where I was sitting.

“The King wishes to speak to you,” he said quietly. “Come.”

I followed him and, as I stood before the King, I felt my uncle’s hand on my shoulder, reminding me that I must make the most humble obeisance that I had ever made in my life.

I went down to the floor and was afraid I was going to lose my balance in doing so. I almost did, and was aware of my uncle’s annoyance.

But the King was smiling.

“Come, come,” he said. “Rise, my dear young lady.”

A hand shining with jewels took mine. I was drawn close to him and I was looking straight into that fleshy face; the little eyes were glinting.

“You are very young, Mistress Howard. Tell me, how many years have you graced this earth?”

“I am eighteen years old, Your Majesty.”

“Eighteen?” he said rather wistfully. “’Tis a goodly age, eh, Norfolk? You and I left it behind some time since.”

“Your Majesty is right.”

“I liked your song,” he said to me. “It is one of my favorites.”

Everyone applauded and there was laughter, in which the King joined.

“You sang it with feeling. Did she not?” He looked round the table.

“She sang it as it deserved to be sung, Your Majesty,” said someone.

“ ’Twas so indeed. You will sing for us again, Mistress Howard, and you shall sing that song. It would please me much to hear you.”

I was not quite sure what was expected of me, and I was blushing. My uncle was frowning, and I guessed he was urging me to say something.

I stammered: “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

My uncle’s obvious exasperation told me that I had failed to come up to his expectations.

“My niece has but recently come to Court,” he said. “She is nervous and overwhelmed by Your Majesty’s kindness. Your Majesty must forgive her lack …”

“Lack, Norfolk? I see no lack.” The King was glaring at my uncle and I could not suppress my pleasure at seeing him disconcerted. “I like well her manners,” went on the King, patting my hand and looking affable again.

He bent closer to me. “Heed him not.” Then he said loudly: “I would have Mistress Howard sit beside me. I would speak with her.”

The chair next to the King was immediately vacated and I began to feel a little less nervous. He was the King, and it was clear that they were all in great awe of him, even my formidable uncle, but he was very pleasant to me.

“Now,” he said. “You and I will talk. We will pay no attention to Norfolk’s carping. You and I understand each other, do we not, Mistress Howard?”

I giggled, lost for words, and again he did not object. In fact, he laughed with me.

“And you have recently come to my Court. I guessed that, for I have not seen you before, and if I had, I should have remembered you. Perhaps you would have remembered me?”

I knew that was a joke, because everyone would remember him and count it an experience to have seen him. So we laughed together over that.

There appeared to be no need to worry about making the courtly remark. The King did not seem to mind if I just acted naturally.

“Your singing pleased me greatly,” he went on. “You have a pretty voice, but methinks, Mistress Howard, that everything about you is enchanting.”

I did manage to murmur: “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“Oh,” he said jocularly, “that is one blessing for which you do not have to thank your King. But let me tell you this, it pleases me. It pleases me indeed. I like to see freshly innocent young ladies about my Court, and you are that, Mistress Howard.”

I was very pleased to discover that I was not expected to say much. I merely had to listen to him, and laugh when he laughed and put in the occasional “Yes, Your Majesty,” to be varied with “Your Majesty is gracious.”

He talked a little about my family and how the Howards and the Tudors had been friends.

“For the most part,” he added. He remembered my father, who had done well at Flodden. He asked questions about me, which did not strike me as unusual.

I found myself talking naturally to him, and if I forgot to say “Your Majesty” or “Your Grace” all the time, that did not seem to matter. I told him that I had been brought up in my grandmother’s establishment and how poor we had been when I was very young. He listened and nodded sympathetically.

He kept me beside him for the rest of the evening and together we watched some dancers whom the Bishop had engaged for his entertainment.

As we took the barge back to Greenwich, I realized that people’s attitudes toward me had changed. They no longer regarded me as the insignificant newcomer, ignorant of the ways of the Court.

I had been favored by the King in an unmistakable manner.

The next day my uncle came to see me. That in itself was significant. Before I had always been summoned to see him.

“Your singing was a success,” he said almost grudgingly.

“The King liked it, did he not?” I replied.

“I fancy he liked more than your singing.”

I laughed. I had changed. I would not have dared laugh like that before in the Duke’s presence.

“You must not be foolish. You must act warily. You will be advised.”

I wondered what about.

“You are very ignorant of Court ways,” went on the Duke.

“The King liked that.”

“H’m.” He was thoughtful. “You must not be too … free with the King.” He looked at me with some exasperation. “You must not act in an unseemly fashion.”

I did not understand what he meant. I wondered how anyone would presume to act in an unseemly fashion toward that great and glittering creature.

“You are such a child,” he said quite irritably. “You are young, even for your years.”

I was silent, not knowing how to apologize for that.

“I shall speak to your grandmother. You may need new dresses … some jewelry.” He lifted his shoulders and frowned, as though he were puzzled. I think he found it difficult to understand not just why the King could have liked my playing so much, but more, that he had talked to me during the evening. “But it may come to naught,” he went on, as though to himself. “Just a whim of the moment. Bored with Gardiner’s efforts to entertain him. Perhaps wait awhile … and see.”

I thought he was going to explain, but he just said: “We shall have to wait and see how deep the interest went. The song was his own. That could have been it.”

Then he left me.

The ladies were talking about the King’s interest in me.

The Countess of Rutland said: “You were honored indeed, Mistress Howard.”

“She played very well and sang with deep feeling,” commented Lady Richmond. “I think that was what interested him. He gets
sentimental over ‘Greensleeves’. It was a brilliant idea to choose that piece.”

“Mayhap,” added the Countess thoughtfully, “it was more than the song.”

They exchanged glances and smiled.

“It is not everyone who pleases the King,” said Lady Richmond. “His leg gives him great pain … among other things.”

“Which,” put in the Countess, “may possibly be more painful to him.”

Then they seemed to come to an understanding, which I guessed meant they realized they were talking too freely before someone who was not included in their circle.

Lady Rochford was quick to seek me out.

“There is much talk about Mistress Howard,” she said, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “The King was most impressed by her singing.”

“Oh yes, he liked it. It was because it was ‘Greensleeves’.”

“Was that so? Then we shall have all the ladies singing it. May the good Lord spare us! And what of my Lord Norfolk? He was, I’ll warrant, proud of his little niece on this occasion. That is somewhat rare with my lord, is it not?”

I laughed. I could always laugh with Jane Rochford.

I said: “I think he was more surprised than anyone. You know, he has not a very high opinion of me. Indeed, he always makes me feel more stupid than I am.”

“Oh come, Mistress Howard, you are not stupid. Methinks you have become a very important lady.”

“My uncle does not think so. But it was amusing, Jane. When he presented me to the King, he was very different from what I have ever seen him before.”

“That is the power of royalty, my dear Katherine. It is good to bask in it, but one must never forget it can soon be withdrawn. ‘Well done, thou good and faithful servant’ can quickly be followed by ‘off with his—or her—head’.”

“Oh, Jane, you are very funny.”

“There is truth behind the mirth, dear child. I should like to know what the mighty Duke thought of the King’s interest in his little niece.”

“I think he was afraid I was going to disgrace the family. He was surprised.”

“You may do that yet.”

“What? Disgrace or surprise?”

“Both.” She laughed and went on: “Well, I think we may assume that at this time His Grace the Duke is not displeased with his niece.”

“I am not sure.”

“But the King was certainly not!”

“He did not seem displeased with me, of a surety.”

“’Tis a beginning, and where there is a beginning there must be an end.”

Some of the Queen’s ladies were invited to the Bishop’s house once more—I among them—and, to our surprise, we had not been there long when the King arrived; and among the courtiers who accompanied him were my uncle and the King’s brother-in-law, the Duke of Suffolk.

I noticed a look pass between my uncle and the Bishop, and it seemed to me that there was something conspiratorial about it.

My uncle came to me and looked me over with that critical manner to which I was accustomed. He took my arm and led me away from the others to the King, bowed, and said: “Your Majesty, may I present Mistress Katherine Howard.”