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“We'll both have to be patient, something that doesn't sit well with either of us. And I absolutely hate these prim mourning dresses, but my brother won't hear of allowing me to wear anything save black and gray. Poor little devil has been brought up so straightly. He actually looked happy to see the little dog turd.”
“He seems to have much in common with Lady Jane, Your Grace.”
“They are like two peas from the same pod.” Elizabeth's eyes slid toward Bess. “Rather like us.”
At the end of May the audit of the treasury was complete, and early in June, Paulet was reconfirmed as lord high treasurer and Cavendish as treasurer of the king's chamber. They kept their posts not just because they handled the money of the realm, but because they did such an outstanding job collecting that money. Both were members of the privy council and received a vote of confidence from their fellow members.
Cavendish stole a couple of hours from Whitehall to dine with the Greys, who were back at Suffolk House celebrating their own good news. Their other guests were Lord and Lady Herbert, William Parr and his wife, and Thomas Seymour. All the men were members of the privy council except Henry Grey, who was always careful to show no political ambition.
Cavendish kissed Frances and, when they sat down to dine, proposed a toast to the new Duke and Duchess of Suffolk. Bess and Cavendish couldn't keep their eyes from each other. His forced absence had created a hunger in both of them that could hardly be satisfied beneath the watchful eyes of others. But under the circumstances it was impossible for them to withdraw to Bess's private chambers.
Thomas Seymour, the newly appointed lord high admiral, held forth on the necessity of increasing the navy to a formidable force of ten thousand.
“Necessity?” William Herbert, Earl of Pembroke, asked, puzzled.
Frances laughed. “The necessity is to increase Tom's power. He has to do something to counter the power of his odious brother Edward and that insatiable wife of his!”
Her guests all joined in her laughter, for Edward Seymour had ridden roughshod over his fellow councillors. Bess watched Thomas with speculative eyes. Not only was he vain and arrogant, he, too, was insatiably ambitious. She wanted to say something to Cavendish, to warn him in some way.
When the meal was over and the company moved to a drawing room, William sought out Bess. “I've been starving for the sight of you.”
“Oh, William, I am so happy that you are confirmed as treasurer of the new king's chamber.”
He drew her hand to his lips in a formal kiss. “Who the devil else could do the job?” he murmured, unable to hide the wry amusement in his eyes. “The trouble is, I have to go to Evesham and Bordesley Abbeys in Warwickshire.”
Bess's dark eyes looked into his wistfully. “How long will you be gone?”
“Not an hour longer than is absolutely necessary,” he pledged, squeezing her hand, telling her how much he would miss her.
Bess confided in a near whisper, “I may be wrong, but I think the admiral has ambitions to marry Elizabeth.”
“You're not wrong. He's been told to forget it; it's absolutely impossible.” William shook his head. “Don't speak of it.”
Bess was relieved. It would put an end to the dangerous liaison. Yet she felt sorry for Elizabeth, who imagined herself in love with the swaggering devil.
The talk had turned to country homes. “Have you had a chance to visit Sudely yet?” Frances asked Thomas.
“Nay, it is in Gloucestershire, built of mellowed Cots-wold stone and reputed to have a magnificent banqueting hall.”
“We shall be going to Bradgate for the summer. Where does the time go? Only another month and we shall be packing up here.”
Bess said to William, “Try to get back before we leave for Bradgate.” She had been looking forward to seeing Bradgate in Leicestershire and visiting with her family in the next county, but suddenly the only place she wanted to go was Northaw.
Frances looked over at them and winked knowingly. “You are all invited to Bradgate to stay as long as you wish. William, you must promise to come and keep Henry company.”
Sir William was the first to leave, and Lady Herbert waited until Thomas Seymour had also departed before she told Frances—in strictest confidence, of course— what her sister Catherine Parr, Queen Dowager, had divulged.
“That wretched Edward Seymour, self-styled protector of our king, wants the queen out of Hampton Court.”
Frances didn't give a tinker's damn for Catherine Parr, who had managed to put three elderly husbands in their graves, until Anne Herbert mentioned the word Chelsea. “Chelsea?” Frances cried in outrage. “He had the audacity to suggest she move her household to Chelsea Palace? My Chelsea? Bess, get my smelling salts.”
In spite of the fact that Frances declared Catherine Parr would reside at Chelsea over her dead body, she began to remove the furniture, paintings, and household items that belonged to the Greys, as well as everything else that took her fancy. With the aid of Bess and her other ladies, they spent almost a fortnight packing up clothes, linens, silver, bed hangings, and curtains. Some of the items were marked for Dorset House or Suffolk House, but Frances decided the bulk of the furnishings would go north to Bradgate.
Frances, Duchess of Suffolk, then made a formal protest to the privy council, pointing out that she had had the use of Chelsea Palace for many years. Surely, with all the palaces owned by the Crown, another residence could be found for the queen dowager.
“I have decided to sit tight and delay going to Brad-gate,” Frances told Bess. “The moment I leave London, they will descend upon Chelsea like bloody vultures!”
“If they do they will find that the carcass has been picked clean,” Bess remarked candidly.
