features. Evidently, she did not expect a wedding any time soon.
“Your Majesty, the Prioress of Catesby has arrived for her audience,” one of the queen’s servants announced from the doorway.
“Ah yes,” the queen said, “and not a moment too soon. Bridget, I desire you to attend on me.” Bridget was slightly taken aback; after all, it was not really her place to sit in on one of the queen’s private meetings. But then, as she was quickly learning, Anne did not always observe the conventional rules as others did. She oftentimes made her own.
In the presence chamber, the prioress was waiting. She dressed in the habit of her order, and was an attractive older woman, but her eyes were shadowed with worry. She curtseyed deeply to the queen and kissed Anne’s proffered hand. “Majesty,” she began in a respectful voice, “I come to you today on a most important matter. As you know, our priory is to be dissolved, on the orders of Master Secretary Cromwell.”
Bridget started a little at the mention of his name, as if she expected him to leap out from behind one of the tapestries at any moment. It would not have surprised her if he were hiding behind one now, listening to their every word. “Do not be so silly,” she muttered to herself, a trifle loudly. Both women turned and looked at her. “Excuse me,” Bridget said, coughing, “I just needed to clear my throat.”
Anne held her gaze before returning her attention to the prioress. “Continue,” she ordered.
“Your Majesty, I come to you as our queen and as a patroness of true religion, and I ask you to intercede on our behalf with the king. You represent our last hope. I pleaded with the Master Secretary to spare us, but he is a hard-hearted gentleman, I am sorry to say, and is, I fear, unmoved by our plight.”
The prioress had fallen to her knees and Anne regarded her thoughtfully. After a moment, she indicated she should rise and take a seat. This the prioress did with difficulty. The queen seated herself in a magnificent, carved, dark wood chair with a crimson cushion and tapped her fingers upon the arm rest. “Although the Master Secretary and I are of one mind on many matters, it seems we do not agree on this case. I am inclined to save your priory, as I believe that instead of dissolving religious houses, they should be converted to better uses, educational and charitable, for example. Also, some houses should be spared altogether, as they are godly places and should not be punished for the sins of the ungodly. Your priory would fall into that category. I believe this is the Christian thing to do.”
The prioress looked elated. “Does that mean, Majesty, that you shall ask the king to save us?”
“Yes, I shall,” the queen replied with a genuine smile, and the prioress actually sagged with relief in her chair, the lines of stress evident upon her face.
“I am resolved to save as many houses as I can,” the queen said, turning towards Bridget. “I could not save Mistress Manning’s house, Rivers Abbey, although perhaps that was a good thing as it brought her into my service! But you may rest assured that I will not see Catesby dissolved, if it lies within my power.”
Anne rose, signalling that the audience was over. The prioress sank into another deep curtsey and departed, her fears clearly assuaged. The queen sighed contentedly and swept back into her privy chamber, where the sounds of laughter at one of Sir Francis Weston’s jokes could be plainly heard. Bridget followed slowly, her heart aching with sympathy for the prioress. It was hard to lose one’s home and the only life one had ever known. Despite what the queen had said, Bridget did not hold out much hope for the survival of Catesby Priory. Not as long as Thomas Cromwell had anything to do with it.
Bridget took in the sights and sounds of the Great Hall at York Place with awe. The huge room was alive with light and colour, candles burning from every sconce,
“Your Majesty, the Prioress of Catesby has arrived for her audience,” one of the queen’s servants announced from the doorway.
“Ah yes,” the queen said, “and not a moment too soon. Bridget, I desire you to attend on me.” Bridget was slightly taken aback; after all, it was not really her place to sit in on one of the queen’s private meetings. But then, as she was quickly learning, Anne did not always observe the conventional rules as others did. She oftentimes made her own.
In the presence chamber, the prioress was waiting. She dressed in the habit of her order, and was an attractive older woman, but her eyes were shadowed with worry. She curtseyed deeply to the queen and kissed Anne’s proffered hand. “Majesty,” she began in a respectful voice, “I come to you today on a most important matter. As you know, our priory is to be dissolved, on the orders of Master Secretary Cromwell.”
Bridget started a little at the mention of his name, as if she expected him to leap out from behind one of the tapestries at any moment. It would not have surprised her if he were hiding behind one now, listening to their every word. “Do not be so silly,” she muttered to herself, a trifle loudly. Both women turned and looked at her. “Excuse me,” Bridget said, coughing, “I just needed to clear my throat.”
Anne held her gaze before returning her attention to the prioress. “Continue,” she ordered.
“Your Majesty, I come to you as our queen and as a patroness of true religion, and I ask you to intercede on our behalf with the king. You represent our last hope. I pleaded with the Master Secretary to spare us, but he is a hard-hearted gentleman, I am sorry to say, and is, I fear, unmoved by our plight.”
The prioress had fallen to her knees and Anne regarded her thoughtfully. After a moment, she indicated she should rise and take a seat. This the prioress did with difficulty. The queen seated herself in a magnificent, carved, dark wood chair with a crimson cushion and tapped her fingers upon the arm rest. “Although the Master Secretary and I are of one mind on many matters, it seems we do not agree on this case. I am inclined to save your priory, as I believe that instead of dissolving religious houses, they should be converted to better uses, educational and charitable, for example. Also, some houses should be spared altogether, as they are godly places and should not be punished for the sins of the ungodly. Your priory would fall into that category. I believe this is the Christian thing to do.”
The prioress looked elated. “Does that mean, Majesty, that you shall ask the king to save us?”
“Yes, I shall,” the queen replied with a genuine smile, and the prioress actually sagged with relief in her chair, the lines of stress evident upon her face.
“I am resolved to save as many houses as I can,” the queen said, turning towards Bridget. “I could not save Mistress Manning’s house, Rivers Abbey, although perhaps that was a good thing as it brought her into my service! But you may rest assured that I will not see Catesby dissolved, if it lies within my power.”
Anne rose, signalling that the audience was over. The prioress sank into another deep curtsey and departed, her fears clearly assuaged. The queen sighed contentedly and swept back into her privy chamber, where the sounds of laughter at one of Sir Francis Weston’s jokes could be plainly heard. Bridget followed slowly, her heart aching with sympathy for the prioress. It was hard to lose one’s home and the only life one had ever known. Despite what the queen had said, Bridget did not hold out much hope for the survival of Catesby Priory. Not as long as Thomas Cromwell had anything to do with it.
Bridget took in the sights and sounds of the Great Hall at York Place with awe. The huge room was alive with light and colour, candles burning from every sconce,
Similar Books
