While Elizabeth exercised her rage at Somerset, I worried about Aunt Kat. She remained in the Tower, how sequestered I did not know. Lady Tyrwhitt assured me she was well, but one of Tyrwhitt’s manservants whispered to me that Aunt Kat had been put into a dungeon and made to sit in chains.
I recalled my vision not long ago of this very thing happening and could not ease the chill that took me. I did not believe I had second sight—I could hear my grandmother scoffing at such a notion even now. I must have simply realized what dire troubles Aunt Kat’s meddling could bring.
I fretted about her and also about Uncle John, who was still in London. Finally, I begged Elizabeth for leave to journey to visit him.
Elizabeth at first was not inclined to let me go.
“I need you, Eloise,” she said when we met for a fitting one afternoon. She still pretended to be put out with me, so that I could watch, listen, and report to her without anyone believing I was her confidant. “You are the one point of comfort in the madness.”
I warmed to hear her say this, but even her praise could not banish my fears.
“I have to know what is happening,” I said as I straightened a hem I was pinning. “I can find out things so much easier in London.”
Elizabeth went silent as she weighed my argument until she at last gave me a nod. “Go then. But keep your eyes open and tell me what truly goes on. Master Ashley will know some of it, and you are clever enough to invent a way to learn more.”
I had intended to question Uncle John thoroughly and try to gain admission to the Tower to visit Aunt Kat. Thus, I had no trouble agreeing to Elizabeth’s stipulation. I doubted I’d succeed in speaking to Aunt Kat myself, but I meant to discover everything I could, regardless.
When I rose to my feet and helped Elizabeth step out of the unfinished skirt, she caught me briefly in her arms, crushing me in a spontaneous embrace.
“Do not let any harm come to her.” Her whisper was hot in my ear. “She has always loved me, even when no others would.”
It was true that when Elizabeth’s mother had been condemned, many deserted her or were taken from her. Elizabeth was now proving fiercely loyal to the ladies who’d remained. The gentlewoman who’d been her protective nurse was one, and Aunt Kat another.
I did not know what I could do to prevent Somerset from condemning whomever he pleased, but I nodded and dared to kiss the pale cheek so close to my lips.
“I will keep her safe,” I promised.
Elizabeth lifted her chin, her dignity returning. “See that you do,” she commanded, then turned from me for her other ladies to re-dress her.
I rode to London on horseback with a contingent of Tyrwhitt’s and Uncle Denny’s gentlemen, who’d been dispatched there to deliver messages to Somerset. We traveled at a swift pace—very unlike the stately journeys I took with the princess—and reached Moorgate in the north of London late that night.
Because the riders bore messages for Somerset, we were speedily admitted into the city. Two of Uncle Denny’s guards were ordered to escort me to the house where Uncle John lodged, which they did, if grudgingly. I was glad of their company, truth to tell, because London could be a frightening place after dark.
“Eloise,” Uncle John exclaimed when his manservant ushered me, travel-worn and dusty, into the sitting room of his lodgings. “What do you here?”
“I feared for you, Uncle.” My voice cracked with fatigue and anxiousness, and I longed for a sip of hock to wet my throat.
Uncle John was gray-faced and weary, his hands shaking as he reached for me. “Worry not for me, but for poor, silly Kat.”
He pulled me into an embrace, and for a moment, we both shed tears for her.
I drew away and wiped my cheeks. “Surely the king will not condemn his sister’s beloved governess. He could not be so cruel.”
“Young Edward, perhaps not.” Uncle John led me to a seat, and the hovering manservant who’d admitted me brought us warm, spiced wine. “But the Lord Protector might. He has fixed all his jealousy and suspicion on Seymour, and he will pull in any he believes will help condemn him. Somerset has always been the bland, do-good Seymour while Thomas had the charm and received all the attention. Naturally that rankles.”
“Hardly fair to punish Aunt Kat because Thomas Seymour is more dashing than his older brother,” I said heatedly. “That is not her fault.”
“But Seymour is a traitor, or as good as one.” Uncle John sighed heavily, while I took an indignant slurp of wine. “Seymour’s apparent plot, as far as I can learn, was to marry either Mary or Elizabeth, overthrow Somerset, and rule behind Edward’s throne, with Seymour’s princess wife aiding and abetting him.”
“Mary or Elizabeth?” I repeated with incredulity. “It made no difference to him which he wed?”
“I imagine he preferred the pretty and young Elizabeth,” Uncle John said dryly. “But yes, either would do.”
I studied my boots, muddy from the journey and flecked with dead blades of grass. “Elizabeth fell in love with him.”
I did not mention the brief, foolish time I’d been infatuated with Seymour as well. But it gave me an understanding of his charm.
“I know she did,” Uncle John said, voice gentling. “That is neither here nor there. A princess may fall in love and break her heart with no one to condemn her—so long as she keeps it to herself. But any action on that love determines her fate. The question is not whether Elizabeth fell in love, but whether she promised to marry Seymour and thus aid his schemes.”
