The Miracle at St. Bruno's

"There's more ways than one of being that," said Keziah meaningfully, which made Kate laugh all the more.

Keziah explained to me when we were alone.

"I've always had too much love to give away, you see, Dammy," she told me. "It would have been different if I'd had a husband. That's what I'd have liked-a husband and lots of little 'uns like you. Not like that Mistress Kate.”

"Do you love many men, Keziah?" I asked her.

"Well, my ducky, the trouble with me is that I love them all and not being the sort that likes to say no... there it is. So it'll be our little secret, eh, and you'll not tell anyone?”

"Kezzie," I said, "I think they all know.”

It was a lovely May day when we heard the news of the Queen's arrest. It shook us all although we had been expecting something like it to happen; there had been so many rumors of the King's dissatisfaction with his Queen and it was hinted that she was a witch and a sorceress who had tricked him into marriage. He was tired of her witchery; he wanted a good quiet wife who would give him sons. Already he had laid eyes and hands on Jane Seymour and her brothers were coaching her for the role of Queen. This we had heard; but there were many rumors and it was not until that May that we knew there was truth in them.

The King and Queen had gone to the joust together; then suddenly the King had left and the next thing was that the Queen was arrested and sent to the Tower-and some of those who were alleged to be her lovers were sent there too. One of these included her musician, a poor boy named Mark Smeaton, on whom it was impossible to believe the haughty Queen could have bestowed her favors; and more scandalous still her own brother was accused of being her lover.

My father had never believed that Anne Boleyn was the true ill Queen but now he was filled with pity for her, as I believed many ™ others were too. Kate had seen herself so clearly as the fascinating Queen that to her this seemed almost a personal tragedy. , That three short years ago she had ridden through the city in her I triumph and was now in a dismal dungeon in the Tower had a sobering effect on us all.

As for Keziah she was full of compassion.

"Mercy me!" she mourned. "The poor soul! And what will become of her? That proud head will roll off her shoulders like as not and all because she fancied a man.”

"So you believe her guilty, Keziah?" I asked.

"Guilty," cried Keziah, her eyes flashing. "Is it guilty to bring a little comfort to those who need it?" She had been frank with me since that night when Kate had locked her bedroom door, shutting her in with her lover. I was no longer a child.

I had to learn about life, she had said, and the sooner the better. Life to Keziah was the relationship between men and women. "Men." Her eyes flashed with anger and it was rarely that she was angry with men. She adored them, joked with them, placated them, soothed them, satisfied them, and if they were rough or gentle, pleading or demanding, she loved them all; but she did resent that what they might do with impunity was considered a crime in a woman; they might go their way and follow their will as far as she was concerned as long as the women who pleased them were not blamed for doing the same. But when a woman was shamed for sharing in what for a man was considered natural, she could be angry; and she was angry now.

"The King," she said, "is not above a bit of fun and frolic. And if the Queen, poor soul, wishes for the same... well, then, why not?”

"But she will bear the King and the future King must be the son of the reigning one.”

"My patience, we are clever! We're growing up and I'm glad. We can have some cozy chats now, Mistress Damask. But don't you go thinking hard of the Queen.”

"What does it matter what I think of her? It's what the King thinks that counts and he is determined to think ill because he is off after Mistress Seymour.”