Cor Rotto: A novel of Catherine Carey by Adrienne Dillard

doing much to further the cause as well, even though her husband will never support it. We are on the rise and refuse to let the Bishop of Rome gain foothold in England again.”
    I sat back against the pillows and out of habit, rested my hand on stomach. I felt it starting to churn. I had returned to a Court in full faction war. How long before this queen came to an end for her meddling in religious affairs?
    Nan and I sat in the courtyard. I was mending shirts for Francis and she was quilting a counterpane for her sister, who was still at Richmond serving Anne of Cleves. As we chatted I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. Nan stifled a smile. I turned to see my brother, Henry, standing behind me. I jumped up, dropping Francis’s shirt to the ground.
    “Henry!” I shouted, wrapping my arms around him.
    He awkwardly patted me on the back. “No need to shout, sister.”
    I stepped back and looked him over. He had grown since I last saw him at my wedding. He was wearing matching burgundy doublet and hose in material finer than I had ever seen him in.
    “You have gone formal on me,” I chided him, fingering the velvet of his doublet.
    He gave a slight nod. “I am a married man now and serve the king with my stepfather and brother-in-law, I need to set a good example.”
    I grinned. “Is your wife come to Court, Henry? When shall I meet her?
    “She is settling in at Rochford Hall, making it our home.” Then he looked down at the ground. “It’s a fine manor, but I would give it back in a moment if it would bring Mother back.”
    I reached out and rubbed his arm.
    “Oh Henry, please do not feel guilty. We both miss her but she is reunited with our family.” I pinched his nose and leaned in to whisper, “And it is a far better place than this foul Court.”
    Henry allowed a stiff smile, “Don’t let your father hear that or you will be following her.”
    I replied boldly, “Let him try. So when will we expect some nieces and nephews?” I proudly patted my now flat stomach. “Is this new wife as fertile as I am?”
    “Soon, sister. It has been wonderful to see you and I hope to spend more time with you now that I am at Court. I must take my leave now, the king will be expecting me.”
    “Of course.” I gave him a slight bow and watched him walk away.
    I turned to Nan. “He is so stiff now. He has always been serious, but never this much.”
    Nan chuckled. “He has grown up now, Catherine. He is handsome too. Too bad he is already married.”
    “Nan!” I exclaimed. She gave me a devious look. I shook my head, “You are insufferable. Your family had better find you a husband soon.”
    I had not been at Court for a month when word came that the Duke of Suffolk had passed away. The king was inconsolable. Charles Brandon had been his best friend since before the king had been crowned. I knew it was only a matter of time before the king would follow him. He was becoming corpulent. Gone was the strident young man who could challenge anyone on the tennis courts or in the jousting lists. In his place was a man who had to be carried through the palace on a lift. He was no longer jovial or charming. Everyone came under suspicion. Our ‘Golden Prince’ was gone.
    My stepfather, Stafford, was knighted that autumn for his services in Scotland. I was ecstatic for him. He looked so handsome and knightly at his creation and I wished that Mother had been there to see it.
    At New Year, the Lady Elizabeth gave the king a translation of the queen’s book Prayers and Meditations. Her face looked so hopeful when she presented it to her father as a gift, but I could see his face redden as he flipped through the work. He looked sideways at the queen, but she just smiled serenely, hiding any fear she might have felt. It was becoming increasingly dangerous to have opinions on religion that did not come from His Majesty.
    Then in February, a woman named Anne Askew was arrested as a heretic. Francis told me that during her