“Are you sure we’re being followed?” Catherine kept her head down and nestled her face into the folds of the hood she wore.
It was coarse. Uncomfortable.
But she had deliberately chosen to disguise herself as a servant in an attempt to keep a low profile.
“Yes, my Lady” her most trusted servant whispered as he hurried to keep pace with her. “I think it is one of our own servants from the house. He must have heard us leaving.” Catherine nodded as she quietly contemplated the situation.
The man was probably curious. Wondering what was happening. That was natural of course. The times were dangerous and he was a servant in a decidedly Protestant household. But it would not do for him to know what was going on. They had to preserve secrecy at all costs.
“Have the party split up” she finally murmured. “You take the menservants and go straight to the quay along the Thames. The two maidservants and I will duck into that alleyway ahead and hide there”
“But my Lady…” the man began to protest.
The Duchess was pregnant and they were carrying her one-year-old daughter with them. “If anything should happen to you or the child, Master Richard…”
“Master Richard and I have already calculated the risks” Catherine interrupted impatiently “We know that we have as great a chance of being apprehended as we do of escaping”.
She paused to suck in a deep breath. “Now go” she commanded authoritatively.
With that, she quickened her pace and suddenly ducked into the alleyway. Her maids followed swiftly and the menservants kept walking towards the quay.
The ploy was a success. The man following them was confused and turned back. Catherine and the maidservants then made their way down to the quay and the company boarded a vessel headed to their rendezvous point with her husband Richard Bertie.
Onboard the vessel Catherine clutched her sleeping baby in her arms and shut her eyes in prayer. Her mind skimmed over events of the recent past. Master Latimer arrested and imprisoned for his faith. He had been her chaplain. Master Ridley ensconced in the tower of London, also for his faith. She had sent him what money she could for necessities. Finally, she remembered Thomas Bilney, the man responsible for Latimer’s conversion. The man who had become one of England’s first Protestant martyrs.
Her mind curled around the one verse that had transformed Bilney. She savored its beauty. Willed it to seep into every pore of her soul.
“Christ Jesus came into this world to save sinners, of whom I am chief”.
Nothing else mattered. Gardiner would not break her.