Free The Autobiography of Henry VIII: With Notes by His Fool, Will Somers by Margaret George Page B

I could hardly refrain from embracing her. “Is that true? And I think of you, my Lady.” If only I had had my lute and been some other place, I could have sung to her, sung of my love. I had already composed several ballads to that effect, and practised them well. “I will wed you, Kate,” I promised, with absolutely no authority to do so. “I swear it! As soon as possible.”
    “You promised to wed me on your fourteenth birthday. That was a year ago,” she said slowly.
    “I—” I could not tell her of the hideous “denial” I had made—been forced to make. “I know,” I said. “But I mean to, and soon. The King—”
    “The King does not mean you to wed me. That is clear. I am twenty years old, and no child —as others may be.”
    That seemed unnecessarily cruel to say to her only champion and protector. “I cannot help my age, my Lady. I was not free to choose the day of my birth. But I am not so young as you and others may think.” With those cryptic words (I had no idea then, and have none today, precisely what I meant by them), I squeezed her hand once more. “You shall see!” Then I whispered, “We had best leave. Priests will about be soon.”
    She rose hastily and gathered her skirts. A light lemon scent came to me, floating over the stale incense. Then she was gone.
    A moment later I stepped out of the confessional alcove, well pleased with my successful intrigue. I knetisfied that the scurrilous rumors about Fra Diego were lies. She had been too distressed by the thought of my desecrating the confessional by my innocent rendezvous. She was clearly a deeply religious, pious woman.

    WILL:
     
    And better would it have been for Harry had she not been so “religious” and “pious.” If only she had cavorted with that disgusting friar (who, incidentally, was later deported for gross immorality in London—imagine that!—in London!), it would have been worth an earldom to him during Harry’s divorce campaign. But no, Katherine was pure. How Harry ever got any children on her is one of the mysteries of matrimony. Perhaps the Catholics are right in declaring marriage a sacrament. Sacraments bestow “grace to do that which is necessary,” do they not?
    It is interesting to note that even at this tender age, Harry used the Church for his own purposes. I have no doubt that, had she consented, he would have cheerfully copulated with her in the shadow of the altar itself.

X

    HENRY VIII:
     
    I now had a Mission: to rescue the Princess from her tower of imprisonment, as a proper knight should do. And being in love (as evidenced by the rush of excitement I felt whenever I pictured her) made it all the more imperative.
    Father was preparing to go on one of his summer “progresses,” which promised me freedom for the few weeks he was away. Once I had longed to accompany him and been hurt when he excluded me; now I just wished him gone.
    Considering that Father disliked go/div>
     
    On August first, the customary Lammas Mass was held in the Chapel Royal, in which a loaf of bread made from the first harvested grain of the season was brought up to the altar. That afternoon the King departed for his progress. He would not return until near Michaelmas at the end of September, when the year had begun to turn and slip toward winter. There was always goose on Michaelmas, a hearty autumnal dish.
    I sat in an upper window, watching the royal party gather in the courtyard below. It was hot and sultry, and autumn and Michaelmas seemed a long way off. I felt dizzy with freedom. Everyone was going on the progress. I could see Fox and Ruthal and Thomas Howard and Thomas Lovell, as well as Father’s two finance ministers, Empson and Dudley. The King must think of finances, if not in the country sunlight, then late at night.
    Only Archbishop Warham had stayed behind, and my grandmother Beaufort. The nobles and court dignitaries not accompanying the King would return to their own estates, as no business would be