The Tudor Triangle

Chapter 4: Rumour

September 9th, 1560

As Henry was tucking into some warm broth, Katherine was already riding across country.  She had taken her jewels and clothes that Amy had bequeathed her, so in many ways she was now a lady of means. In fact, she was rich beyond her wildest dreams if she compared herself to the starving young girl Amy had rescued. Not just rich in money either, but in learning too. However, it was with some fear and sadness that she rode away from Cumnor Place.  She was now completely on her own, just as she had been at eight. Her place was uncertain in the world. She was a learned servant girl and that was not an easy fit in Tudor England. She kept telling herself that she was strong, that she had been self-reliant before but truth was she had relied on Amy. Amy had become her family.

 Every new downward pound of the hooves took her away from her childhood, it was gone. Every stride destroyed her future with Henry too. It was as if there were two paths to take and the straightforward flat one was now blocked, instead she had to climb a rocky and unstable steep cliff. She was also parting from Amy's dead body, which was so painful.  In a sense it felt like she was abandoning her but she had a strong faith that her mistress's soul was commended to heaven. Amy's maid Mrs Pinto and her had not been natural allies, but Katherine knew she could leave her to tenderly prepare the body for burial. Her anger at Robert Dudley kept her furiously galloping on.  The thought that he could now become King of England and she could be his subject filled her with horror. There was no way she was going to let him ascend the throne, even if she was a servant girl of seventeen. She was going to avenge every slight he bestowed on Amy and every tear he caused form on her cheeks. The man would be stopped.

She knew where she was heading. Her plan was unformed but she was determined to see it through, come what may.  The morning sun had broken through and was creating glorious orange streaks across the clouds. September the 9th was going to be a lovely autumn day.  As she rose across the land, her thoughts were distracted by game birds flying up in disarray as she sped past. Wildlife, awoken from slumber, all scuttled for cover as the chestnut mare pounded through the dew smothered grass. The last of the September swallows flew away from their nesting tree, creating a rustling racket as she rode.  As her destination loomed near a formation of geese barked and powered through the sky to reach their favourite pond. The Berkshire countryside was lovely, it sloped slightly up at the forested edges and provided far reaching views.  But none of this provided any comfort, it was just ground to be covered as quickly as possible.

It was likely Henry would expect her to go to Oxford, then to make the journey to London.  She was conspicuous as a young woman alone and so decided to stay close to Cumnor.  That way, she could monitor the next move Dudley made.  She avoided any well-known tracks in case Henry was already in pursuit.  A thought occurred, to treat her mission as she would any tactical chess game played in happier days. Dudley was the would-be King and Elizabeth the heartless Queen who stole men from their wives with no compunction. Amy had been the pawn, sacrificed for Dudley's ambition. As for Katherine, was she the knight riding to defend the memory of Amy and her life? Katherine's thoughts were racing like her horse and to some difficult conclusions regarding the Queen.

Everyone in England knew the story of Thomas Seymour. That the teenage Elizabeth had at the least flirted with her stepmothers husband and at worst betrayed Katherine Parr. A widowed Queen and Henry's sixth wife, Katherine had married Thomas quickly after the King died.  But, so gossip went, had always treated Elizabeth kindly and loved her disloyal husband. Soon England was scandalised by tales of Thomas entering Elizabeth's bedchamber and flirting with the Princess. Seymour had been the elder but still, where was her moral fibre?  Even at thirteen Katherine knew right from wrong.  Elizabeth had saved her own neck and sacrificed her would-be paramour to the axeman when the dalliance had been discovered. Katherine had started to wonder in the last few hours, could Elizabeth be involved herself in Amy's murder?  Could the majestic Tudor Queen have committed the most deadly sin in order to secure her marriage and ultimately the succession?