“I see,” I said. “Why was I not told?”

“The Admiral made me swear secrecy, my lady.”

“Oh, I see. You serve him, do you? I thought you were my servant.”

“I am, my lady, with all my heart, but I thought it could only mean that he was seriously contemplating matrimony with you and that seemed a great and marvelous thing.”

“And you think my possessions satisfied him then?”

“He seemed as satisfied with them as he is with your person.”

“I suppose you and that gossip-monger Kat Ashley think I should feel honored to be so well endowed by my late father that I can attract the attention of the Admiral?”

“Kat Ashley and I agreed that he was as enamored of you as your possessions.”

“Master Parry, have you ever wondered what it would be like to occupy a cell in the Tower?”

“My lady!”

“Look to it,” I said. “You may discover one day. You should be more cautious and guard well your tongue. You are a simpleton, Tom Parry—and Kat Ashley with you.”

I went out for I could bear no more. He had weighed up my possessions, considered them worthy of his attention and then proposed marriage. When I had refused he had immediately gone to the next on the list.

Was that not enough to infuriate any woman particularly when—it had better be confessed—she had quite a fancy for the handsome philandering rogue?

I could see that I had betrayed my feelings too much. I had not yet mastered the trick of hiding them. Parry had gone straight to Kat and I was sure he would tell her that I was angry because of the marriage and had secretly wanted Thomas Seymour for myself.

They were a pair of scandalmongers and I was often exasperated with them both. But they so obviously loved me, and I believe I was more important to them than anyone else; and for that reason I could never be annoyed with them for long. Sometimes I trembled for their lack of wisdom. How right I was soon became clear.


* * *

MY SISTER MARY wrote to me asking if I would like to leave the household of the Dowager Queen and Thomas Seymour for she was sure that to live with those who had conducted such a misalliance would be distasteful to me.

Mary was at Wanstead whither she had come from Norfolk. She was seventeen years older than I and therefore must be much wiser. She was, however, a very firm upholder of the Catholic Faith, and her desire to see it again established in England clouded her judgment and from time to time put her in considerable danger. I knew that she was horrified by the attitude of the Council toward religion for now they were mainly supporters of the Reformed Faith she considered anathema. Edward himself had always inclined strongly toward it, so I could see that I must on no account set myself beside her, for if there was later to be a choice of religion I must be free to take whichever course would help me best. I had long decided that preoccupation with the method of worshipping was not so important as faith itself and I did not intend to become involved in it or committed to any doctrine to my detriment.

I knew Mary well enough to understand that she would want the throne, not for her own aggrandizement, but for the opportunity of bringing England back to Rome. I could see great dangers for the realm in that determination, but I knew that devout Catholics—among them men like Gardiner—would agree wholeheartedly with Mary.

Thomas Seymour had written to my stepsister asking her to give her blessing on his marriage to Katharine Parr and Mary was very angry. He had written as though the marriage had not taken place, but she knew very well that the Queen was already his wife for she had her spies to keep her informed. She considered the marriage outrageous—in fact almost criminal because our father was so recently dead. How could Katharine have so quickly forgotten her husband? she would ask. I could understand Katharine's need. I had seen her terror under my father's rule and I knew of the irresistible—or almost—wiles of the Admiral. Perhaps I was more worldly than my sister even though she was seventeen years older. Perhaps I understood our stepmother's desire for marriage as Mary never could.

She had extended this invitation to me. I was so young, she wrote. It was wicked to submit me to such an embarrassing and unfortunate situation. I could come and stay with her for as long as I wished.

Life with Mary, my pious sister! I imagined it. Prayers! Morning, mid-day, afternoon and evening… and no doubt in between! “My dear sister, I am going to instruct you in the ways of truth …” I was fond of Mary in some ways. She had been remarkably kind to me despite my mother's displacement of her own. Oh, but I could not bear to be in her household. Whereas here I was at Chelsea with the stepmother to whom I was devoted, with my tutors, with this pleasant easy-going household… and the Admiral. If I were honest I must admit that I was looking forward to some encounters with that plausible and fascinating man.

But I must not offend Mary and I should have to pen my refusal very carefully. Mary could easily be Queen for I had heard secretly that the King's health was certainly not improving since he had come to the throne. Mary Queen…a Catholic country again! I must indeed tread very warily. But on one point I had made up my mind. I was not going to leave the exciting place Chelsea had become.

I wrote several drafts. Words were so important, and the wrong ones could wreak irretrievable damage. I began by deploring the marriage. It was as abhorrent to me as it was to her, but I did feel that my sudden departure from Chelsea might create a difficult situation. There was a powerful party guiding the King, and the Protector was a Seymour. My position was not very safe, nor, I reminded her, was hers. We had to walk very carefully in these dangerous times. Moreover our royal father had appointed Katharine Parr as my guardian and to leave her would be going against his expressed wish. I knew my good sister would understand my feelings and much as I should enjoy being with her, I felt that my place was in the household of my stepmother—in spite of this unfortunate marriage.

I was rather pleased with that. It was my first real lesson in diplomacy.

I was looking forward with great excitement to the future.


* * *

SOON AFTER MY fourteenth birthday the household moved to Hunsdon. I was really finding life very stimulating. Learning was always a great pleasure to me and I spent a lot of time with my books, but there was a certain time for frolicking; and it was really a most unusual household because Thomas Seymour was part of it.

I was amazed at first to find that I could forgive him for his mercenary actions and for going at once to my stepmother when I had refused him. After all, I reasoned, he had asked me first. That, said my wiser self, was because you had the hope of a crown. You are not without means either.

No. But Katharine was richer, and he still asked me first, retorted the foolish romantic part of me.

I felt impatient with myself. That was Kat Ashley's reasoning.

The truth was that Thomas was an adventurer, a lovable, charming man but an adventurer. He watched me closely and sought opportunities for being with me. When he could, he would come upon me alone. That was what he liked best. He would touch my hair and comment on its brightness; sometimes his hand strayed to my throat. He was always ready to seize opportunities and I knew that if ever I gave him one he would take it with both hands. He wooed me in a way with his eyes and his gestures; and even when my stepmother was present he would keep up a bantering conversation—in which she would join—and I wondered why she could not see what his intentions were. He flirted blatantly with me and then he would pretend that I was only a child and that was why he behaved as he did; and she seemed to take that for truth. Fourteen is not too young for a girl to take a lover. That was what he wanted, I knew. That was his intention all the time.

Kat noticed it and giggled about it. She made whispered conspiratorial comments when we were alone. I really do believe that if I had been agreeable she would have helped me make clandestine arrangements with him. Kat wanted excitement all the time and she never gave any heed to what the consequences might be. As for myself I must admit that I was enjoying these situations. It occurred to me that it could not have been better. I did not want to marry and place myself in danger and possibly jeopardize my chances of taking the crown. What I wanted was to have all the fun of courtship without coming to the usual climax. In fact I wanted to be in a constant state of being wooed, and never won.

And this was what life was offering me.

Thomas enjoyed it too, for marriage was quite out of the question. Wasn't he married already? Unable to get the Princess, he had taken the Queen. He was enamored of me. There was no doubt of that. I supposed there must be some fascination in seducing a royal virgin for a man who has become blasé in his amours. He was always teasing me and he would make Katharine join in and she seemed to think it was delightful that her husband should be so fond of me. I was like a daughter, she said. In fact she had always thought of herself as my mother rather than my stepmother.

And so we went on during the autumn days of that year which had begun with the death of my father.

Jane Grey had become part of our household. She joined me in the schoolroom. I was not really jealous of her scholastic attainments. Mine were more than enough for any tutor to marvel at and Jane was inclined to hide her light under a bushel while I let mine blaze forth like the midday sun. It was true. Jane was quiet and retiring, almost apologizing for her very existence; whereas I was growing more imperious every day, blossoming under Thomas Seymour's admiration.