her husband, then went on her way.
Elizabeth began to notice, by and by, that the Queen was no longer so warm toward her. Katherine did not seek out her company as often as she once had, and when they were together at table, or during her regular visits to the schoolroom to inspect Elizabeth’s work, she was civil, even pleasant, but these days her smile did not reach her eyes, which always seemed to be regarding her stepdaughter warily. And Katherine looked tired and drawn, too, her joyous spirit no longer much in evidence.
Thomas Parry, Elizabeth’s cofferer, said as much one day in March when he joined Kat and Elizabeth for a nightcap one evening in the winter parlor. Elizabeth liked this rotund Welshman: He was a bit of a fusspot, but kindly and avuncular, and utterly devoted to her.
“I must confess I am concerned about the Queen,” he said. “She doesn’t look at all well.”
Elizabeth, seated at the table, looked up from her book.
“So I have noticed,” Kat said.
“She seems distant and preoccupied,” Parry went on, “and she spoke very sharply to the Admiral this morning in the stables. She seemed very vexed with him for some reason.”
Elizabeth could not help herself. She had to say something. If she did not, she would burst. She could no longer shoulder this burden alone.
“I think I know why,” she said.
They both turned to look at her.
“I fear it is because the Admiral loves me too well, and has done for a long time,” she confessed, “and the Queen is jealous of us both.”
“I do not believe it,” exclaimed Parry, shocked.
“How do you know this, Elizabeth?” Kat asked, looking at her charge closely.
“The Admiral told me he loved me. That day in the garden. I think the Queen knows of it.” Her cheeks were flaming.
“He told you?” echoed Kat.
“Yes. In faith, Kat, I did nothing to encourage him. I got away from him as fast as I could.”
“Did he touch you in any way?” Kat demanded to know.
“He has tried once or twice, but each time I pushed him away,” Elizabeth told her. That was the truth, wasn’t it?
“Then you have done nothing worthy of reproach,” Kat said, relieved.
Oh, but I have, Elizabeth thought. I have wanted him. I have sinned with him in my thoughts…and might do so in very deed, given the chance. She knew in her heart that her much-vaunted resolve to remain a virgin might easily crumble in the face of his seductive charm.
“Well, you do amaze me!” commented Master Parry. “I would never have believed it of the Admiral.”
“He has been after my Lady Elizabeth for a long time,” Kat revealed. “He even asked for her hand after King Henry died. The council put a stop to that, so he married the Queen instead.”
“And you think the Queen knows of his interest in you, my lady?” Parry asked Elizabeth.
“I fear so,” she said, shaking her head. “I would it were otherwise. But what can I do?”
“Nothing, except be watchful of your conduct, and give the Admiral no encouragement whatsoever,” Kat warned her, worried in case the situation was escalating beyond her control; the Admiral might be an attractive man—there was no denying that—but her responsibility was to protect the Lady Elizabeth from harm, and she had the uncomfortable feeling that she herself was in part to blame for what was happening because of her earlier laxness.
“I would do nothing to hurt the Queen, or injure myself,” Elizabeth assured her.
The Admiral had arisen at first light and gone to attend to a bitch of his that had whelped the previous day. He had promised Elizabeth one of the puppies, and by God, he would see she got the best one. Of course, Katherine could have one too—they promised to be a fine litter.
There was a chill in the air, so presently he returned to the privy chamber to don a warmer doublet. He thought he would look in on his wife—she had not been well of late. Some vague malady, of the kind to which women seemed all too susceptible—he hadn’t troubled to inquire too closely. Whatever it was, rest and hearty fare would cure it, of that he was sure.
But as he entered their bedchamber, he heard the sound of choking. Alarmed, he found Katherine, still in her night robe, retching into a basin.
“My love!” he cried. “I had no idea…” He held her heaving shoulders and stroked back the damp tendrils of hair from her forehead.
When