How relieved and happy I was when my father and stepmother were friends again. I think he must have missed her nursing, for she was so ill that she could not leave her bed. Her physician Dr Wendy was sent for and he reported that her sickness was due to uneasiness of mind. She wept piteously and could not control the trembling of her limbs. My father must have regretted giving such a ready ear to the complaints of her enemies for they had gone so far as to plan her death and were already looking out for a new queen who would be favorable to the cause of Rome. They had forgotten that the King was old, and a good nurse was more appealing to him than the sensuous charms of women like my beautiful mother and sweet Katharine Howard.

Dr Wendy, the Queen's good friend, had told her that the King missed her and he believed that if she spoke humbly to him and expressed deep sorrow for any fault she might have committed, he would be ready to turn to her because he was certainly not happy with the estrangement.

I saw my stepmother after the King's visit to her bedchamber. The change in her was miraculous. She no longer wept and that fearful trembling had ceased. She told me that after the King had said a few kind words to her he had tried to lure her into an argument. But Katharine was clever and having been primed by Dr Wendy she made an acceptable reply. She was but a woman, she said, with the imperfections of her sex. Therefore in all serious matters she must refer herself to His Majesty's better judgment. “God has appointed you to be the supreme head of us all,” she added piously, “and of you next to God shall I ever learn.”

“It seems not so,” said the King. “You have become a doctor, Kate, to instruct us and not to be instructed of us as oftentimes we have seen.”

“Indeed,” replied my stepmother, “if Your Majesty has so conceived, my meaning has been mistaken, for I have always held it preposterous for a woman to instruct her lord; and if I have ever presumed to differ with Your Highness on religion, it is partly to obtain information for my own comfort regarding certain nice points on which I stood in doubt, and sometimes because I perceived that in talking you were able to pass away the pain and weariness of your present infirmity, which encouraged me in this boldness in the hope of profiting withal by Your Majesty's learned discourse.”

How clever she was, my kind stepmother! Those words were well worth remembering. What a clear estimation of his character she had, for he replied: “And is that so, sweetheart? Then we are perfect friends.”

If only Katharine Howard had been able to reach him when she had made that frantic dash along the gallery to the chapel! Could she have changed him with her loveliness as wise Katharine Parr had with words? I asked myself then, great as my father was, so powerful that the fate of us all rested in his hands, was he not a little childlike? But was he seduced by Katharine's words or was he seeking a way out of a difficult situation which would placate his conscience? The fact was that he did not want to lose Katharine Parr. If he had wished so, nothing she could have said or done would have saved her.

The reconciliation was timely. The next day was that which had been arranged for her arrest, but now that the matter had been smoothed out between them, the King asked her to sit with him in the gardens. So she went, with her sister, Jane Grey and Lady Tyrwhit in attendance—so they were witnesses of the scene which followed.

While they were seated there, Wriothesley, the Lord Chancellor, came into the gardens with a body of guards to carry out the arrest to which before his visit to her bedchamber the King had previously agreed.

My father was furious when he saw them. Presumably he had not informed them of the change in his feelings or they would not have come.

He shouted at them in fury and told them they were beasts, fools and knaves and they had better get out of his sight or he would want to know how they dared invade the privacy he enjoyed with his Queen.

Much as I disliked Wriothesley, I felt a twinge of pity for him and so it seemed did the Queen who murmured that there must be some mistake.

My father became very sentimental, as he could on occasions when he was cruel. “Ah, poor soul,” he said. “You do not know, Kate, how little he deserves grace at your hands. He has been a knave to you…as have others.”

Ah my dear father, I thought. And what sort of a knave have you been to this good woman who has never been anything else but the most faithful and devoted wife to you? I would never marry, I assured myself. I would never give any man power over me.

The incident appeared to be over, but my father never felt kindly toward Wriothesley again, and as for Gardiner, he showed his acute displeasure toward him. Looking for excuses for his own part in the near betrayal of the Queen, he must have his scapegoats.

It had been a terribly anxious time and often when I sat with my stepmother and we did our needlework together I would look at her serene face and contemplate how near she had come to the fate which had overtaken my mother, Anne Boleyn, and Katharine Howard.

DURING THE NEXT YEAR or so I never felt quite the same again. I could not look at my stepmother without thinking how near she had come to losing her head. My father was getting old; he was often unable to stand; his body had become unwieldy and the ulcer in his leg had grown worse. There was an uneasiness everywhere. Edward was a boy and the country had a dread of kings who were minors. It always meant that power-seeking factions were formed. That was what was happening now, and the rival families were the Seymours and the Howards. Religion was the dominating factor in all our troubles and I supposed this was inevitable since my father had broken with Rome and the Reformed Religion had come into being. I watched it all intently and I thought how foolish they were to make such an issue of religion. My sister Mary was a devout Catholic still and my stepmother and Lady Jane were turning just as devoutly to the new faith. But what did it matter how one worshipped God? Wasn't it the same God? Young as I was I vowed no such folly should ever determine my actions for I had seen fanaticism wreak naught but harm. But then we had these two families—the Seymours upholding the new Reformed Faith and the Catholic Howards who continued to support Rome. The Seymours were more powerful because of their relationship to Prince Edward and it seemed likely that he would be King before long. The Howards had seen the daughters of their family, Anne and Katharine, wear the crown—now both headless in their graves—but Jane Seymour had been triumphant, at least her family had. She, poor thing that she was, had produced the heir of England for their benefit and died in her bed before she was able to savor glory…I could never forget that she had supplanted my mother, whose brilliance some still whispered about.

My thoughts were turned from these matters by complications in my own household. I had noticed a change in Kat. She had become prettier and a little absent-minded, and I knew that something, of which she had not told me, was happening.

I demanded to know the reason for the change in her, for I am afraid I was beginning to be a little imperious since I had been allowed to come to Court and share a schoolroom with my brother. Edward was so fond of me and made it clear that he wanted my company and people were becoming more and more anxious to please him. We were all thinking of him not so much as a prince but as a future king and the fact that I had a very special place in his affections had made me feel quite important.

So I said to Kat: “I insist on your telling me what makes you go about as though you are somewhere else.”

“Well,” said Kat, “I will tell you. You know Mr Ashley?”