“What do they want?”
“They say your name. Listen. . . .”
They stood, straining their ears.
“We’ll have none of Nan Bullen. Queen Katharine forever!”
The guests were pale; they looked at each other, shuddering. Outwardly calm, inwardly full of misery, Anne said: “Methinks I had better leave you, good people. Mayhap when they find me not here they will go away.”
And with the dignity of a queen, unhurried, and taking Anne Saville with her, she walked down the riverside steps to her barge. Scarcely daring to breathe until it slipped away from the bank, she looked back and saw the torches clearly, saw the dark mass of people, and thought for a moment of what would have happened to her if she had fallen into their hands.
Silently moved the barge; down the river it went towards Greenwich. Anne Saville was white and trembling, sobbing, but Lady Anne Rochford appeared calm.
She could not forget the howls of rage, and she felt heavy with sadness. She had dreamed of herself a queen, riding through the streets of London, acclaimed on all sides. “Queen Anne. Good Queen Anne!” She wanted to be respected and admired.
“Nan Bullen, the whore! We’ll not have a whore on the throne. . . . Queen Katharine forever!”
“I will win their respect,” she told herself. “I must . . . I must! One day . . . one day they shall love me.”
Swiftly went the barge. She was exhausted when she reached the palace; her face was white and set, more haughty, more imperious, more queenly than when she had left to join the riverside party.
There was a special feast in the dormitory at Horsham. The girls had been giggling together all day.
“I hear,” said one to Catherine Howard, “that this is a special occasion for you. There is a treat in store for you!”
Catherine, wide-eyed, listened. What? she wondered. Isabel was smiling secretly; they were all in the secret but Catherine.
She had her lesson that day, and found Manox less adventurous than usual. The Duchess dozed, tapped her foot, admonished Catherine—for it was true she stumbled over her playing. Manox sat upright beside her—the teacher rather than the admiring and passionate friend. Catherine knew then how much she looked forward to the lessons.
She whispered to him: “I have offended you?”
“Offended me! Indeed not; you could never do aught but please me.”
“Methought you seemed aloof.”
“I am but your instructor in the virginals,” he whispered. “It has come to me that were the Duchess to discover we are friends, she would be offended; she might even stop the lessons. Would that make you very unhappy, Catherine?”
“Indeed it would!” she said guilelessly. “More than most things I love music.”
“And you do not dislike your teacher?”
“You know well that I do not.”
“Let us play. The Duchess is restive; she will hear our talking at any moment now.”
She played. The Duchess’s foot tapped in a spritely way; then it slowed down and stopped.
“I think of you continually,” said Manox. “But with fear.”
“Fear?”
“Fear that something might happen to stop these lessons.”
“Oh, nothing must happen!”
“And yet how easily it could! Her Grace has but to decide that she would prefer you to have another teacher.”
“I would beg her to let you stay.”
His eyes showed his alarm.
“You should not do that, Catherine!”
“But I should! I could not bear to have another teacher.”
“I have been turning over in my mind what I would say to you today. We must go cautiously, Catherine. Why, if Her Grace knew of our . . . our friendship . . .”
“Oh, we will be careful,” said Catherine.
“It is sad,” he said, “for only here do we meet, under the Duchess’s eyes.”
He would talk no more. When she would have spoken, he said: “Hush! Her Grace will awaken. In future, Catherine, I shall appear to be distant to you, but mistake me not, though I may seem merely your cold, hard master, my regard for you will be as deep as ever.”
Catherine felt unhappy; she thrived on caresses and demonstrations of affection, and so few came her way. When the Duchess dismissed her, she returned to the young ladies’ apartments feeling deflated and sad at heart. She lay on her bed and drew the curtains round it; she thought of Manox’s dark eyes and how on several occasions he had leaned close to her and kissed her swiftly.
