Sarum - Edward Rutherfurd [425]
He remembered the interview with old William Moody all too well.
“We are a Catholic family,” Moody reminded him, “and my daughter will only marry into a family of the same mind.”
“My parents are Catholic and regret the break with Rome,” Edward replied truthfully, hoping this would be sufficient. He looked down modestly.
But an instinct cautioned the older man. As Edward looked up again, Moody’s piercing grey eyes seemed to probe into his soul.
“There were reforms at Sarum,” he observed quietly.
“Under Shaxton,” Edward agreed, “but the king replaced him with Bishop Capon, who enforces the Six Articles.”
Indeed, everyone knew that Bishop Capon, a former monk, had got his preferment because he was most anxious to do the king’s will, whatever it might be.
But Moody was not satisfied.
“And you, young Edward Shockley, are you sure you care nothing for the doctrines of the Protestants?” His balding head had jutted forward, almost accusing. “Let there be no mistake,” he went on, “if you cannot in conscience swear to that, my daughter will never find happiness.”
He had thought of the submissive girl’s sweet smile, of her fresh young body and of his own desire.
He had not faltered. He had looked William Moody in the eye and sworn:
“I am a Catholic, in a Catholic family.”
Katherine loved him, he was certain of it; that was all that mattered. If in the future there were any disagreements, he felt sure that with her submissive nature, she would not give him any trouble.
Three months later, having promised also to be a good friend to her ten-year-old brother, he was married.
He had lied.
His married life proved to be delightful. He and Katherine had taken lodgings near the Shockley house and there they enjoyed a first year of happiness.
Each evening, they would sit together at supper and often, before they had finished the light meal, they were both trembling with anticipation. His days were filled with work for his father, his nights with wild passion. And though she sometimes looked at him timidly for a sign of approval for the changes she had made about the house or the food she served, it was not long before she had gained a happy confidence and even a passionate aggressiveness in their lovemaking.
During that year, the subject of religion scarcely arose.
They went to mass together in the town or the cathedral but otherwise they seldom discussed religious matters. Since they both agreed, as she thought, there was no need.
Occasionally he had read the English Bible and she had looked concerned. But he had reminded her that the king permitted it and she had not thought proper to argue with her husband.
He was kind to her, and firm. And she loved him.
In 1547, several events took place to change their lives. The first was the death of his father, leaving him in sole charge of the business. Since his mother was ailing, they had moved into the Shockley house and he had installed his mother in the smaller house next door with a nurse to look after her.
Now he was a man of responsibility. He was ready for it, but it kept him busy and he saw slightly less of his wife. But Katherine was content. Her pale eyes were shining, her timidity was in abeyance. She was pregnant.
But it was a third event which made a much greater difference to their home, and which cast a cloud over their lives.
For in 1547, King Henry VIII of England died, to be succeeded by his only son, the pious boy king Edward VI.
He had not realised what it would mean.
Edward VI was only a boy. He ruled under the guidance of protectors, first his Seymour uncle, then the powerful and scheming Duke of Northumberland. He had favourites whom he trusted – like Sir William Herbert of Wilton, whom he made Earl of Pembroke. Some said he was under Cranmer’s influence too. But whatever his advisers may have urged, there was no doubt that the precocious young king had a mind of his own – and that he