Chapter Eleven - The Privy Council
Greenwich Palace
Early July 1540
My uncle Thomas Howard has returned to court, the King apparently much more inclined to hear his opinions now. He sits on the Privy Council, settling debates and issues each day, once again one of the most trusted members at Greenwich. Today, I am to see him.
Earlier this morning, King Henry visited my chambers to give me his promise that I am to take Anne's place as the Queen of England. My nerves have settled slightly now that I have this assurance, but I am wise enough to wait until confirmation that the marriage can go ahead. Anne has left court now to go and live in one of her many new estates, and I can walk freely about court without having to worry about seeing her and feeling that weak pang of guilt.
"You do think that the councillors will agree don't you, my Lord?" I ask the King as we make our way in unison towards the Privy Council chamber.
"Their decision is not crucial, Catherine, but it is very important for me to have their backing again. I am sure that they will agree to it, but it may not be instantaneous." His voice is rough and deep.
"They do not like me?"
"No, that's not it. They are just cautious, as with all things, but you must understand that this sort of issue is particularly important and that time is needed for the right decision."
"They will not...associate me with..."
"With who?" He interrupts. I look away, cursing myself for saying such a stupid thing.
"Nobody, it does not matter. I only meant that they may be worried because I am so young."
"Young, beautiful, fertile...these are all good qualities in a Queen." He seems to have forgotten my stupid previous comment, or perhaps he is just pretending to.
"I certainly do hope to please them." I add with a deep and truthful sincerity.
***
The Privy Council consists of gentlemen of varying statuses, wealth and influence. Amongst them sit my uncle Thomas Howard, Edward Seymour, Thomas Seymour, Bishop Gardiner, Charles Brandon and Richard Rich, but the infamous Thomas Cromwell is nowhere to be seen.
As the King and I enter the hall to greet the Council, I whisper in his ear about my observation.
"Henry, I do not see my Lord Cromwell, he is not here today?"
"No. He is not." Henry's answer is sharp and short, and I understand immediately that this subject is not to be pursued by further questions, despite my growing curiosity.
He squeezes my hand lightly as the councillors rise to greet us, a kind gesture of reassurance. I seat myself at the end of the long table, on the right hand side of the King, the seat on the left of him, Cromwell's seat, is empty.
Henry stands at the head of the table in a great jacket of dark green, towering over us all.
"My Lords." He opens, projecting his voice to assert dominance. "We all know why it is that we are here. Today, we discuss the possibility of my marriage to Catherine Howard. I will have no quarrelling or negativity, a straightforward, logical debate will put this issue to rest."
He sits down and looks around at all of the councillors.
"Firstly, are there any of you here that are not in agreement that my marriage to Anne of Cleves is now null and void?"
Silence fills the room as everyone looks at the table or shakes their heads. Henry continues.
"Then we shall proceed. Catherine here is of strong noble blood, her predecessors for generations have been dukes and countesses. She is young and innocent, the perfect model not only for a wife but for a pure Queen of England as well."
There is a quiet rumble of disagreement throughout the hall over Henry's choice of "pure." Nobody dares to speak up.
"Since none of you have spoken in disagreement over any of this, then I welcome any queries you may have over this proposed marriage."
From down the table I catch my uncle's eye. He inclines his head and provides a small smile for me.
"If it is not inappropriate, your Majesty, I would enquire as to the age of your proposed, simply for legal reasons." A member of the council puts forward the statement with clear discomfort. The King guffaws.
"Legal reasons? Why minister, the law can change for me if it has to! Besides, Catherine here is 17, perfectly of age." The faces at the table turn shocked. Bishop Gardiner almost coughs up his sip of wine from the surprise, clearly none of them expected me to be this young.
"17?" Confirms the minister. "I see."
"Anything else?" Demands Henry, clearly adamant to move on.
"What about the lack of foreign benefits, your Majesty. There will be no room for alliances with France, Spain or Scotland with this marriage." Says Richard Rich.
"Councillor Rich." Addresses Henry. "Half of my marriages so far have been for foreign relations purposes, and look where they have gotten me. No, this time I shall choose my own bride." The councillors nod slowly, and yet again none of them protest.
"Well if there are no further quarrels, then I shall assume that I have your full permission." Declares Henry, despite that everyone here knows that he will make his own decisions regardless of theirs.
The Privy Councillors rise as the King and I leave the room. I can barely stop myself from smiling, grinning at the thought that I am surely going to become the King's wife.
A/N
Hi readers,
As ever, thank you for the support. I hope that you will continue to read my story, and comment and vote if you would like to.
Thank you,
Issy ❤️
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