The Rose Without a Thorn (2 page)

I remember one occasion very well because, with the visitors from Hollingbourne, came Thomas Culpepper. He was a sort of cousin, a little older than I. I thought him wondrously handsome in a rather angelic way. He had the clear features portrayed in a Greek sculpture and such graceful manners. I knew at once that he came from a well-ordered home, quite different from ours: perhaps that was why he seemed to enjoy our free-and-easy manners so much.

We played games. Hide-and-seek was a favorite for, as I said, the large, untidy house and the neglected gardens provided wonderful places in which to hide.

Thomas and I went off to hide together. I showed him the shrubbery, which was especially overgrown, even compared with the rest of the place, and we had to force our way through the shrubs.

“Why do your gardeners not take better care of it?” asked Thomas.

“Nobody looks after anything here,” I replied. “We are too poor to pay for it.”

Thomas looked at me in dismay and, seeing a fallen tree-trunk, I sat down on it, and prepared to enjoy the company of my exciting young kinsman.

I said: “This is as good a place as any to hide. We should hear anyone approaching.” And I signed to him to sit beside me.

“I thought the Howards were a very important family,” he said. “The Duke of Norfolk is at Court and close to the King.”

“That does not mean we are not poor. You can see that, can you not?”

“I can indeed,” said Thomas.

“I heard one of the serving men say some beggars in the streets have more than we have.”

“Poor Katherine,” he said. “And you are so pretty.”

That pleased me, and I wanted more compliments. I looked down at my dress, and I said: “My dress is threadbare. Soon it will be impossible to patch it. All our clothes are patched, and they say that my father goes to Calais to escape his creditors.”

“It’s a shame,” replied Thomas. “So your father goes away … and your mother?”

“There are times when she goes with him.”

“I know that she is too ill to go now.”

“Yes, she stays in her chamber most of the time.”

“It is the reason for our being here. They thought we should come to see her before we had word summoning us.”

I must have looked bewildered, for he turned to me and, putting his hands on my shoulders, looked intently at me.

“Yes,” he said, “you are very pretty, Katherine Howard.”

Then suddenly he kissed me.

I was very pleased, so I returned his kiss.

My sister Margaret said that I showed affection too readily. It was not the way in which a Howard should behave. I did not agree with Margaret. What was wrong with showing people that you liked them, if you did? For one thing, they usually liked you in return, which was surely good.

Thomas looked somewhat embarrassed and drew away from me.

“Do you think we shall be found here?” he asked.

“It is not easy to find people in the gardens.”

I wanted to know more about him, so I went on: “My brothers are always talking about going to Court. Do you want to go to Court?”

“I think I shall go,” he answered. “They are trying to find a place for me, but it is not easy.”

“You would see the King.”

“That would be most exciting … particularly now.”

“Why now?”

“There is all this talk about the ‘secret matter’!”

“Tell me about it,” I said, nestling up to him.

“It is said the King wants to divorce the Queen.”

“Divorce her?”

“Yes. Send her back to Spain so that he can marry the Lady Anne Boleyn.”

“Why doesn’t he?”

“The Church won’t let him.”

“I thought the King could do anything he wanted to.”

“That is what he reminds them. The Cardinal is involved. They say it augurs no good for him. There are such comings and goings. It must be very exciting to be there.”

“Tell me all about it.”

He smiled at me and I thought he was going to kiss me again. I waited, smiling and hopeful. But his mood seemed to change suddenly.

He stood up. He said: “Come. They must have given us up by now.” And though I must have shown my disappointment, he was determined. He started to run.

“I’ll race you to the house,” he said.

A few days later, he left with his family; and it was shortly after that when my mother died.

We were a house of mourning. My father came home from Calais and stayed for a long time. Life did not change very much. I was sure my father deplored the fact that his children did not live as gentlefolk should, but there was nothing he could do about it and he was still in fear that those from whom he had borrowed money would descend upon him, demanding payment.

Then he married again. Her name was Dorothy Troyes and it may be she brought him some dowry, but we still continued to live as before. The new wife must have tried to bring a little order into the establishment, but, with so many children and the house in such ill repair, she found it a hopeless task.

However, change was about to come for me.

My grandfather, the second Duke of Norfolk and hero of Flodden, had died some time before but that had made no difference to our financial position. He had had eight sons by his first wife,
and three by his second, one of whom was my father, and there were also daughters, so very little came my father’s way.

Then one day the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk, my grandmother, decided to visit her son, probably to inspect the new wife.

There were some rather futile attempts to clean up the place for the Duchess’s arrival, accompanied by an unusual amount of activity in the kitchens. We children watched from a hidden vantage-point, overawed by the coming of this very important lady.

She sat in state in the hall, which had once been magnificent, with its vaulted ceiling and the weapons hanging on the walls. I noticed with certain relief that she was sitting on one of the few chairs which were not broken in any way. It had an engraved back, and arms on either side. She looked very regal.

She inspected all the children who stood before her, inarticulate and fearful lest we should give the wrong answers when she addressed us. Her eyes lingered on me and I was greatly alarmed, fearing there must be something particularly wrong with me which had displeased her. Therefore it was with trepidation that I later received a summons to appear before her in the hall.

My father was with her, and he smiled at me encouragingly. He had always a kindly smile for us whenever he saw us, but I never failed to feel that he was rather vague about us. He knew we were his children, but I doubted whether he could put a name to most of us.

Now he said: “Katherine, Her Grace would speak with you.”

I curtsied in her direction and waited with apprehension.

“Come here, child,” she commanded.

I approached. Although aging, she was quite handsome, and clearly took pains with her appearance, for she was most elegantly dressed. There were several rings on her fingers, and she was holding a stick, the handle of which was set with stones which looked like emeralds.

“Come closer,” she said.

I obeyed and she went on: “H’m. Pretty child. And knows it, I doubt not. Do you, child?”

I did not know what to say to that, so said nothing.

“Do you? Do you?” she went on with a hoarse chuckle.

“Yes, Your Grace,” I answered meekly.

That made her laugh. “Truthful, eh? That is good. But what a state you live in, Edmund. No way to bring up children. I hope the child remembers she’s a Howard. Do you?” she demanded of me.

“Yes, Your Grace,” I said again.

“Come closer.”

I obeyed.

“Sit on the stool where I can see you.”

Then she addressed my father.

“This matter will have its effect on the family.”

“Do you think it will come to pass?”

“Of a surety it will. The King has set his heart on it, and none will dare gainsay him.”

“And Anne?”

The Duchess smiled complacently. “I have spoken with her.” Her eyes shone. “I am proud of her. She will have her way. He is dancing to her tune. We shall have the coronation soon. Think of it, Edmund. My granddaughter, Queen of England. She is a girl in a million. They knew that well enough at the French Court. I’ve heard Francis himself had an eye on her. But she knew how to deal with that. I tell you, she is a clever girl. That affair with Northumberland, that would have been a good match in itself. But this … this is beyond all our hopes.”

My father said: “There are many against it.”

“Edmund! That’s the trouble with you and always has been. You are timid. That is why you are here … in this place. Controller of Calais!” She gave a short, derisive laugh. “This will change everything. You will see.”

“Shall you go back to Horsham?”

“For the time. Then, when it is all signed and sealed, my plans will doubtless change.”

I was wondering why she had sent for me that I might sit on a stool and listen to this conversation between her and my father, of which I had no understanding, when she said: “This little Katherine reminds me of her in some degree.”

“What?” cried my father. “She is not highly educated … unaccustomed to Court manners, I am afraid.”

“That is indeed so, but there is something. I shall not forget little Katherine. Come here,” she added to me.

I rose and stood before her. She touched my cheek lightly with her finger.

“Yes,” she said. “There is that certain quality with the Howard women. I saw it at once here in this one.”

I was so bewildered that I had no idea what was expected of me when my father intervened suddenly, saying: “You may go now, Katherine. Her Grace is tired and will wish to rest.”

I curtsied and, as I turned to go, I noticed that the Duchess was watching me, smiling and looking rather pleased.

It was all very strange and, although I felt it meant something, I could not be sure what; and, as I was apt to think only of the moment’s pleasure, I very soon ceased to think about the visit of the Dowager Duchess of Norfolk.

My stepmother sent for me. She wished to talk to me. She was smiling and looking rather pleased. I felt she was almost a stranger to us. She had been with my father in Calais for much of the time since her marriage and only now was she getting to know the family into which she had married.

“You are very fortunate, Katherine,” she said. “Indeed, I would say you are a very lucky little girl.”

I waited expectantly.

“Your grandmother, the Duchess of Norfolk, has taken a liking to you. She feels that it is not good for you to stay here.” She lifted her shoulders and looked disparagingly round the room. “So … she is offering you a home with her.”

“With my grandmother!” I cried in dismay, remembering the autocratic old lady, sitting upright in her chair, addressing me.

My stepmother nodded. “It is a great opportunity. You will find Horsham very different from here.” Again there came that disparaging look.

“You mean, I am going away … from home?”

It had suddenly become very dear to me, with all its squalor and deprivations—and its comforting freedom.

“You will look back on this place and wonder how you could have endured it.”

I was surprised that she could talk thus of her new home and the family which she had willingly accepted as her own; or was it willingly? Had the Troyes thought it good for their daughter to marry into the Howard family? Even to such an impoverished member of it?

“I would rather stay here,” I said.

“My dear child, you speak with folly! The Duchess has a fine establishment in Horsham. She also has a mansion in Lambeth, but it is to Horsham you will go.”

“Oh, no … please …”

“It is your father’s wish. He has long been anxious about you children, and hoped that one of the illustrious members of your family would help in this way.”

“But why me?”

“Because Her Grace took a liking to you. Come. You must not be foolish. You must rejoice in your good fortune.”

“I like being here with my brothers and sisters.”

“There is not one of them who will not envy you.”

“Must I go?”

She nodded. Then she laughed.

“Oh, you are indeed foolish to be the smallest bit downcast. This is great good luck for you. You will grow up as a Howard should. I know it is great distress to your father that he could not give his family what by right of birth should be theirs. You must never forget that you belong to the Howard family, which is one of the foremost in England. The Howards have been close friends of kings and would have remained in favor if they had not been true to the House of York. They have always been loyal upholders of the Crown, and if York had not been defeated by Tudor, they would have continued in their glory. It
was a Duke of Norfolk who carried Richard III’s sword of state at his coronation.”

“I know,” I said. My mother had told me that many times. Were they not always reminding me of the importance of the family?

She was not to be diverted. I expected she had had to listen to such talk when she had been persuaded to marry a man who could offer her, along with a ready-made family and a life of poverty, a famous name.

“Your grandfather was committed to the Tower because he was loyal to a king to whom he had sworn allegiance, and you know he was robbed of his titles and estates because of this. Fortunately for him, King Henry VII was an astute man and recognized his qualities, and after Flodden, he restored him to favor.”

It had been told to me many times, I reminded her.

“Your grandmother, the second wife of this illustrious Duke, is now offering you a home with her. You cannot be so young and ignorant as not to realize what this means. The Duchess would be received at Court. Who knows, there might be a time when you could go there. Imagine that—especially now, when your cousin might be very highly placed. So you are a foolish child indeed if you do not rejoice in this great good fortune which is to come to you.”

“When am I to go?”

“The Duchess is already sending those who will conduct you to her house. You will not take much with you.” She smiled ruefully. “What have you to take? Not those patched gowns of yours, certainly. Oh, you will find it very different in the household of the Duchess! She is sending grooms and there will be a woman to look after you. It is all settled and soon you will have said good-bye to all this.” She waved her hand disparagingly. “You will be living the life which will be right and proper for a young girl of such a family as that to which you belong.”