The Tudor Triangle

Chapter 23: The Return

Wednesday 18th September 1560

Sunningwell

Katherine looked down to the garden below. She held the book of prayer in one hand, it had barely left her palm since the Saturday of her return.  A blanket lay across her lap and the sun streamed in, bathing her in its golden warmth.  She had spent the last few days at Sunningwell either sleeping or staring out from this window seat.  Slowly over the days, the pain melted from her body and her mind cleared.  Her tiredness was slowly lifting, so she could start to think clearly.

Mary had not left her side.  The first day, Katherine had just slept. Whenever she awoke she would find Mary sitting to the side of the bed. Sometimes, she would be quietly embroidering, other times her head would be thrown back, eyes closed. Katherine would giggle, despite her sorrow, at the sound of the small elderly lady emitting such loud snores.  Mary coaxed Katherine to eat small morsels and to drink.  She had encouraged her to look out the window and see the beauty of autumn.  They never spoke of Amy, or what had gone on in Throcking and Dunstable.  Mary talked and talked of every other subject, but that.

The door opened and in came Mary, carrying a lovely bunch of yellow roses.  

"Oh good, my dear, you are up, just thought I'd bring you these to brighten the room. It is a lovely day."  

Katherine had still not been out of the room, but was now longing to feel the breeze on her face.

"Now," said Mary, "I have had a most splendid idea." She came and sat next to her on the window seat.

"You have told me much about yourself, over these days my dear. It just occurred to me that I have something in this house that you would love and goodness knows nobody uses it anymore.  I never have, not my thing, despite my dear Thomas trying to persuade me otherwise. Anyway, I thought you might like to come and see it."

Katherine hesitated, she had been used to this one room. It had become her refuge , her solace in the face of pure heartbreak and worry.  

"You will love it,my dear," encouraged the old lady.  

Katherine nodded and got up, she was still a  little unsteady on her feet and had lost alot of weight. Her dress hung from her as if meant for someone else. Mary took her arm and together they went slowly down the stairs.

Katherine had never properly explored Sunningwell. So she had never seen what was down the corridor that ran off the main sitting room.  They passed many doors with Mary pointing out certain paintings she had on the wall.

"Can you believe that man is related to me," she laughed as they paused momentarily at the most sour looking man Katherine had ever seen.  

"My great-grandfather and a miserly sot to boot, God forgive me. Now, here we are."  

They reached the last door.

Mary turned to her and said, "I think you will find some peace here."

Katherine swung open the door and stared open mouthed at the beautiful sight in front of her. It was an exquisite library, with a wealth of books all lining the walls one side.  A window flooded the room with natural light, looking over the back herb garden.  Tall willow trees swayed soothingly in the background. The sweet scent of herbs from the rushes on the floor mixed with the fire blazing in the grate.  Then on the other side of the room was a wide straight-backed chair, with a thick padded seat for comfort.

"You should find, my dear, that it is the most comfortable chair in Berkshire. My husband was not the smallest of men and so had the chair made wide. He always used to say give me a chair, a book and I am in heaven. I suspect though that it was more for the escaping of me." She laughed and sat down in the chair.

Katherine wandered over to the bookshelves and ran her fingers over the leather bound volumes.  To feel a book again, to smell the leather brought back a small feeling of joy. She suddenly remembered that she had her own copy of Utopia squirreled away upstairs, a book she loved to revisit and one of her most precious belongings. There were so many books she had read whilst studying, but more that she had longed to read. Thomas Grays had a varied interest, there were books in geology and physics to the Arthurian tales.  The Prince by Niccolo Machiavelli was there, a book Katherine was sure Robert Dudley had read. Erasmus 'Praise of Folly' was nestled between very traditional texts on Catholicism.  There was even the Heptameron by Marguerite of Navarre, someone Katherine had admired from a young girl. The library was a strange mix between conservatism and new revolutionary texts.

"I have rarely seen such a lovely collection, Mary." said Katherine eventually.

"It became his hobby, especially as he got older, to collect books. I confess though, I am not too sure how much reading he did, or if he preferred the collecting. If I ever did breach his sanctuary I often found him just snoring away!"

"I cannot remember the last time I sat down to read," said Katherine "Yet it used to be my most favourite thing to do. I would crave just a few hours of quiet for it, in Amy's last days it became more difficult.  She needed me so much, I barely had a moment." Her eyes filled with tears.

"Mary, I fear I was not always as kind to her as I should have been."

Mary scurried over and took her hands.

"Nonsense, she often spoke of your kindness and loyalty and how it had got her through hard times."

"But I resented it sometimes, her need for me,"  confessed Katherine. "Sometimes I just couldn't bear to hear any more of her continual justifications of his neglectful behaviour."

"That is only natural," soothed Mary, "You loved her and could maybe see things she could not or did not want to see.  You were only a blessing to Amy, my child. Now, dry your tears. Cook is making you some lunch and I am going to leave you alone in here to bask in the sun and read to your heart's content."

Katherine spent a few hours reading in that perfect room and could feel herself feeling happiness again. Life could have joy again, even if it was just in reading a book. But she could also feel her desire for justice for Amy returning with it.  Her last words to Amy, promising her justice swum round and round in her head. How many days had she'd gone, could it possibly only be ten days she had died? She went in search of Mary.

She was sewing quietly by the fire.

"My dear," she smiled "You enjoyed that?"

 Katherine nodded.

"It is good to see some colour back in those cheeks. Sit down, sit down."

"Mary, I have had time to think in there and my mind is set. It is clear to me, that I will find no peace in myself unless I pursue Robert Dudley to the ends of the earth.  I have to know, that I did everything I could to avenge Amy's pain,if the rest of my life is to have any meaning.  So, please tell me all you know.  I feel ready to listen and to finish what I started."

Mary sighed a little and put down her sewing at her feet.

"Sobeit," she crossed her hands together as if in prayer.

"If you are strong enough, then I will begin. But first Katherine, I must tell you something of importance." Her voice became softer, "Katherine, Amy's funeral will be on Sunday."