“I believe in Christianity,” I said, “and it does not seem important to me in what method one worships God as long as one does.”

This aroused storms of disagreement from my brother and stepmother, and we continued to bring forward our points and tried to convince each other. It was the sort of discussion which I enjoyed.

Unfortunately my brother must have repeated something I had said to someone who in turn reported it to the King; my views clearly annoyed him and the result was that I was sent away from Court.

Kat and William Grindal came with my little retinue and we went back to Hunsdon. I was desolate. The days seemed dreary and I missed my brother. Lessons without him were not the same for that friendly rivalry was lacking. How foolish I had been to state freely what I thought! That was a very important lesson learned. Never say anything that might offend those who have power over you. I blamed myself, and my only consolation was in my books and gossip with Kat.

Happily the banishment did not last very long. My stepmother, who was still in high favor with the King—such a comforting nurse she was, no one could dress his leg quite as she could—begged that I should be allowed to return, pleading my youth and my lively mind, which she was sure I had inherited from my father. Edward joined his pleas to hers and complained that his studies were not nearly so interesting without me there. And the King at last gave his permission for me to return.

What a joyful reunion that was! Dear Edward! Dear Katharine Parr! I often thought of that in the years to come and I felt very sad about Katharine. However I was back.

My stepmother said: “Your tutors give such fine accounts of you that I think your father is somewhat proud of his daughter.”

The thought of his being proud of me gave me the greatest pleasure— even more than the welcome I received from Katharine and my brother. That was strange, for my father showed little kindness to me. I used to dream sometimes that I was in the Church of St Peter ad Vincula and I saw the ghostly figures of my mother and Katharine Howard there. I thought often of his cold indifference all those years ago when I was in the courtyard. He was cruel and ruthless, yet he was the great King and his good opinion was more important to me than that of anyone else.

There were some changes in the household. Lady Jane Grey had joined it. She was related to us, her mother being the daughter of my father's sister, Mary, and Charles Brandon. She had two sisters, Katharine and Mary, but Jane was the clever one and no pains had been spared to give her a good education. Her tutor had been another Cambridge man, John Aylmer, and he had coached her thoroughly in Greek and Latin. She was about the same age as Edward and as clever as he was. He took to her from the start. She was too pallid for me … I mean in temperament … too good. She never showed any temper or malice—all very laudable, of course, but insipid, and I told Kat so.

“Do I detect a little jealousy?” asked Kat, and I felt quite angry with her.

“Why should I be jealous of such a mouse?” I demanded.

“Our little Prince likes her very much.”

“Let him!” I retorted. “They are but children.”

However it was impossible to dislike Jane for long. She was such a good girl and I did respect her cleverness.

But while we were at peace in our nursery danger was brewing round us. That it could involve our gentle stepmother seemed incredible. It was not that the King was passionately enamored of her as I had seen him with his previous Katharine, but that she was such a comfort to him. He looked so pleased with her when his leg was laid on her lap and she was so gentle and always eager to please him. And then suddenly disaster threatened just as it must have done in the case of my mother and Katharine Howard.

Her life was in danger.

It was then that I first became aware of Stephen Gardiner who was to be my enemy in the years to come. He was the Bishop of Winchester and a fanatical Roman Catholic. It was now becoming generally known that my stepmother was a firm believer in the Reformed Faith. Perhaps she was not as watchful as she should have been. Because she was on such good terms with the King and he seemed delighted with her, she must have been lulled into a sense of security. She was nurse, wife and good companion. He suffered a good deal from the pain of his ulcerated leg and it could not be expected that a man such as he was should make great efforts to control his temper. He would curse his attendants and threaten them with all sorts of dire punishments for no reason at all than that they had not been quick enough to answer a summons or were guilty of some minor carelessness. They all tried to avoid him when he was in such moods.

On this occasion he was in his bedchamber and Katharine was binding up his leg which was particularly painful. She had often beguiled him with her arguments about the Reformed Faith and he usually liked to listen and lead her into discussion. He was amused and used to say to her—so she told us—“Come, Kate, what of the Reformed Faith today? What shall we talk of?” So on this occasion she had plunged into argument hoping that he would forget the pain until the unguents did their work. But he was irritable and contradicted her. Thinking he wanted her to put the other side of the question she proceeded to do so, at which he cried out in a rage: “A good hearing it is when women become such clerks; and much to my comfort in mine old age to be taught by my wife!”

It was enough, and by ill fortune the scheming Gardiner was present. According to Katharine he hurried to commiserate with the King, and the others in the chamber fell silent for a terrible dread had fallen on them. When a man has disposed of two of his wives by decapitating them, uneasy thoughts must quickly enter the heads of others. They would wonder how long that necessary part of the body would be with them.

Poor Katharine! She was most dismayed. I could see that she wished more heartily than ever that she had married the man of her choice and was Thomas Seymour's wife instead of the King's.

She retired to her apartments overcome with dread, which made her ill, and I realized that it was not only her own fate which was causing her concern. Anne Askew, a friend of hers who was a firm believer in the Reformed Faith, had been recently arrested. All this beautiful and noble lady had done was to profess her belief that the Reformed Faith was the true one; she had been accused of corrupting others and introducing books into the royal household. Katharine had been overcome with grief contemplating what was happening to Anne in the Tower and had sent her comforts by way of her ladies of the bedchamber. She was prostrate with sorrow when she heard that Anne had been put to torture and that when Sir Anthony Knevet had ordered the jailer to modify his use of the rack, Chancellor Wriothesley and his accomplice Rich had thrown off their gowns and worked the terrible instrument themselves with the utmost vigor.

And the King had given his assent to all this.

The noble lady had been condemned to be burned alive, and when this terrible sentence had been carried out the Queen had taken to her bed. It was given out that she was sick; and if the King knew that it was because of what had happened to her noble friend, he had not said so then.

Thus when Katharine heard the King speak to her in such a way and was aware of the malicious intent of Stephen Gardiner, she was so terrified that she collapsed and had to be taken to her bed.

Kat knew what was going on and could not keep it from me. She dared not tell Edward for fear he spoke to the King, and poor Kat trembled for her own head if ever it was thought that she had interfered. But she trusted me so I knew what was going on and I prayed for my good sweet stepmother and I marveled that I could still find it in me to admire my father who with his words and frowns could inspire such terror in those who had given him nothing but love. So it had been with Katharine Howard. I did not know whether my mother had loved him but I had seen for myself that these two Katharines had done everything in their power to please him. Such devotion had not saved Katharine Howard's head. Would it save that of Katharine Parr?