Daughter of Time

November 1541

Hampton Court

A sweeping silence has descended on Hampton Court, since the accusations of the Queen's impropriety. The hallways leading to her chambers no longer echo with the sounds of musicians playing their instruments, nor does the girlish laughter of her ladies fill the corridors. The dancing after dinner no longer takes place either. Its absence is a reminder that the one who loved its activities so much is no longer here to participate, and is locked away.

Dressmakers continue to flock to her apartments, keen to seek her patronage, having gained notoriety for lavish spending; only to be told that the Queen cannot receive visitors. It is the only official statement given out by the King's Council. Yet they make no mention of illness, or any other excuse, which could explain her absence, and so the rumours of her misconduct have gathered pace.

Though I had little love for her. I am sorry to the bottom of my heart for His Majesty, who has taken himself into seclusion for solace. I wish he would let me by his side. To give him some comfort, to ease the pain of this latest betrayal. I see now, now that it is too late; just how much he did adore her. I wonder, if I had acted on the advice of Chapys, and offered the Queen my support earlier and tried to guide her in the ways a royal lady should behave, whether this catastrophe could have been avoided, and my father remain happy. Perhaps she could have been taught how to be a good Queen, but I consider it unlikely. She is a Howard after all, that name alone should have barred her from such an exalted position, not the least of which, her relation to the last Howard woman who found her way to power. I am just one of many who still bear the scars of that woman's evil.

Perhaps it would be better if she did not return. She has dishonoured herself and her position and embarrassed the King enormously. I cannot see how she would return. Nor do I believe my father would proceed against her in the manner he has if he were inclined to forgive her. Whatever happens now is the will of God. He has demonstrated his intentions in the past, and so now must I await his wishes again.

As quickly as the Howards arrived, so too quickly they left, scurrying away under the cover of darkness, like rats. None of them wishes to risk the wrath of the King, who had endowed them all with lands, wealth, and position to please his Howard Queen.

Only a handful of people, myself amongst them, know that Queen is no longer at court, and has been taken to the Abbey at Syon. The investigations into her behaviour, have been conducted with discretion, by that heretic Cranmer.

I head back to the palace from my walk, ignoring the panting of some of my ladies who struggle to keep up with my brisk pace. I begin to walk up the main pathway. From a distance, I make out a dozen or so ladies of the court, heading in my direction. I hasten to conceal myself behind a topiary bush for fear of being seen. I am innocent of any crime, but the shame of the accusations against the Queen has forced me into seclusion. I wish to see no one, for fear of being questioned about the nature of the allegations, but I cannot tolerate confinement indoors. I take pleasure in my exercise of walking and riding. Although I cannot do the latter, I am still able to enjoy my walks. Though for decency's sake, I wish to do it in solitude. I pull the ermine hood of my cape up over my head, concealing my face from view, and head towards the privacy of the privy gardens behind the rows of hedging and topiary, to keep me out of sight.

The guards open the door to the palace for me as I hurry past, racing up the back stairs to the second floor, where my lodgings are located. I have all but removed my cape when a page arrives to tell me that the Duke of Suffolk has come.

I greet him warmly, for I am still fond of the man who was once my Uncle.

"Lady Mary, The King has sent me to tell you that he considers it improper for you to continue to reside at court without an appropriate chaperone, or lady of rank to bear your company. It is His Majesty's command that you quit court, and move to one of your country manors, or to the establishment of Prince Edward, for which His Majesty has given his permission.

Quit court? Can this mean that Queen is not to return after all? "Can I take this to mean, Your Grace, that the Queen will not be returning to Hampton Court?"

His reply is hesitant. "I would consider it most improbable, Your Grace. It would seem that the Archbishop's investigations into the initial allegations of impropriety against her have uncovered more serious crimes for which she is suspected."

"What crimes, Your Grace?"

"Adultery, against the King's Majesty."

I am stunned now. Misconduct after marriage! I had always considered her frivolous, impetuous even. I had not thought her a traitor. Even though she were a Howard. God forgive her for such despicable behaviour. There is no need to guess what will happen now then. If she is proven guilty, convicted of treason, His Majesty could send her the same way as that devil woman who was her cousin, and rightly so. She is not as evil as Anne Boleyn to be sure, but it is no less a punishment than any traitor deserves. Two Howards, and both to end their lives on the scaffold. I find it incredulous to believe that it could happen again.

The Duke arrives to escort me down to the courtyard the next morning where my horse is waiting to take me to Windsor with my escort.

"Your Grace, this is Sir John Dudley." The Duke says presenting a portly man of middling stature, whom I recognise as the former master of horse to Queen Kathryn. "He will escort you safely to Eltham."

Sir John drops to one knee, bowing his head. "Your Grace, I am honoured by this commission. My men and I are yours to command."

"Thank you, Sir John," I say evenly, wondering why this man would remain on his knees while addressing me. It is not necessary when speaking to a Princess, and instinctively my guard goes up around him. There is something false about this man. I cannot quite put my finger on it, but I do not trust him.

He gives his orders very smoothly. This is a man of absolute confidence and dominance.

His son Henry helps me and my ladies to mount. Whilst his other two sons John and Ambrose, ride in positions of honour just beside me, carrying the standard of my father. I feel like a prisoner in an army of Dudleys,

He does not speak to me until I speak to him. But when he speaks, he is all charm and courteousness. I commend him on his handsome sons and he is quick to tell me that he has seven sons in total, and his wife has just made him father to their third daughter.

He tells me of how he entered royal service first as Master of Horse to the Duchess of Cleves when she was Queen and carried the position through to Queen Kathryn.

I cannot wait to reach Windsor, to bid farewell to this strange man. It is no small relief when we get there and as I take my leave of Sir John Dudley, he arranges for an elaborate farewell salute from the train he has commanded from Hampton Court.

I do not tell Edward or Elizabeth of the accusations about Queen Kathryn until I am certain of what will happen to her.

The Duke of Suffolk does not come to see me at Windsor, and it is through Anne Hertford's letters I learn that the man accused of impropriety before marriage with the Queen ignited suspicion of their relationship by boasting of knowing her intimately since they had sworn to marry, which she denies. Anne further writes that this man, upon being questioned, disclosed that another man had succeeded him in her affections and that she has admitted to three secret meetings with this man, who is accused of being her lover during her time as Queen. A man, Anne tells me is a groom of the King's chamber!

The two men are put on trial at the beginning of December. With the overwhelming evidence against them, it seems their condemnation is a foregone conclusion. This is confirmed the following week when Anne writes that the Queen's lovers have been executed. Yet there is no word on what is to happen to her. She remains at Syon, disgraced and exiled.

As Christmas approaches, there is still no word as to her fate, and I begin to wonder whether my father is considering pardoning her. His Majesty has been in deep melancholy since the Queen's disgrace. Further compounded by the recent news of the death of his sister, the Dowager Queen of Scotland.

To my surprise, his Majesty orders that the Christmas festivities at Greenwich should be carried out as before. In the absence of a Queen, he invites me to host the festivities with him. I am honoured by such an invitation and I enjoy the twelve-day celebrations enormously. Neither His Majesty nor his courtiers mention the disgraced Queen once. All the talk of court is of the bill due to be passed by the Parliament of Ireland declaring His Majesty and his descendant's to be Kings of Ireland, which he had previously ruled as Lord only.