The Miracle at St. Bruno's

We did not talk very much about the war. Scotland seemed far away. But for his services to the Crown the King presented Lord Remus with an estate on the border with the result that he remained there for some months so that Kate came to visit us once more.

I knew that she had left us most reluctantly. The Abbey fascinated her still as it had when we were children. She would wander off alone and I believe she often went to that spot where we all used to meet. She was not sentimental, she insisted, it was merely a pleasant spot and it was rather amusing to recall old times.

I saw her once or twice with Bruno. I wondered if he talked to her of his plans and I wondered whether she warned him of making the place too similar to what it had been in the old days.

She said that I had become too much the housewife, the fussy mother, my thoughts straying to the nursery when she wished to discuss something serious with me. I pointed out that her notion of serious talk was generally gossip. This she conceded but added that gossip was at the very roots of great events. I should know that by now.

It was June again-Catherine's first birthday. Clement made a cake for her and we had a little ceremony in the nursery. I suppose Carey and Honey enjoyed it more than Catherine, but she was such a bright child and her eyes were round with wonder as she watched the other children.

Kate refused to come to the celebration; so did Bruno. I felt resentful toward them both for this; but Kate snapped her fingers. So at the party were myself and their nurses; Clement and Eugene who adored the children joined us and played games to the amusement of the young people. Clement was very good at crawling around the floor like a dog carrying them on his back while he barked realistically.

I laughed so much to see them.

Kate was full of Court gossip as usual, for the King had found his new wife.

"Poor lady!" cried Kate. "They say she is somewhat reluctant. She adores Thomas Seymour.

What a man! Uncle of the young Prince Edward and... irresistible. But the King has cast his eyes in her direction and so Master Thomas for all his buccaneering ways must needs retreat and Lady Katharine Latimer, another Kate, you see, how his Grace seems to love the Kates, albeit briefly-though retiring and reluctant has no choice when the royal finger points to her and says, 'You are the next.' “

And so it was, for within a few weeks the King married Katharine Parr. Kate was disappointed that the wedding, although celebrated openly, was to take place in Hampton Court which meant of course that she would not be invited to attend.

"How different from his marriages to those other English ladies, Anne Boleyn and Katharine Howard. They, poor ladies, were married secretly and in haste. There is no need to hasten over this.”

"I wonder how she feels," I said. "How would one feel if one's predecessors had either been disposed of or died at one's bridegroom's command?”

"I heard she was most reluctant. But she is no giddy girl. She nursed two husbands so doubtless is ready to nurse a third.”

I thought about the Queen a great deal. I mentioned her in my prayers. I trusted that she would meet a better fate than the other wives of the King. I had no desire to go to Court as Kate had. I said to her that I would rather not have known the poor ladies who had suffered.

By August I discovered I was pregnant again.

Bruno was delighted. I had failed to give him a boy in my first attempt but I had shown that I was fruitful and would do so now.

The thought of having another child delighted me, and that state of euphoria overcame me again. I was scarcely aware of anything else. I discussed children with my mother once more. I brought out the small garments which Catherine had worn when a baby.

I thought of little but my child.

It was almost Christmas again. I had already told the little girls that they would in due course have a brother or sister to join them in their nursery. I thought that Honey looked a little sullen at the time.

Then she said: "I don't want it.”

"Oh, come, Honey," I said. "You will love it. A dear little baby-imagine.”

"I don't want it," she declared. "I don't want Cat here. I want only Honey... like it was.”

Jealousy was something I had always feared and had sought to avoid. I tried to make much of her, to show that it made no difference.

She asked whom I loved best; herself, Catherine or the new one which was coming.

I replied that I loved them all the same.

"You don't!" she cried. "You don't.”

I was quite disturbed about her. It was true, of course. I was fond of her. But how could I help loving my own child more dearly?

The day after that conversation Honey was missing. I was full of remorse, accusing myself of betraying the fact in some way that she was less important to me than she had been. I must find her quickly. This was not easy. I searched the house, then I called in Clement. She had always been his special favorite and I thought he might know of some secret hiding place of hers.