Royal Inheritance Read Online Free PDF Page B

sighed, but made no further excuses for His Grace. He escorted me back to his workroom and left me there with Mistress Yerdeley, an old woman who lived near us in Watling Street. She’d been hired to accompany me to court and watch over me when Father could not. She sat on the window seat with her sewing, nodding agreeably as he repeated his instructions for what must have been the twentieth time.
    “Audrey is not to leave the workroom. No one is to come into the workroom that you do not know. You are not to answer impertinent questions about your charge. And you, Audrey, are not to speak to anyone you have not already met.”
    We both promised to obey him, but ten minutes after he left, Mistress Yerdeley was sound asleep, her head resting against the windowpane. I soon grew bored with staying in one place. The mending Mother Anne had sent with me held no allure. I had been taught the rudiments of reading but I had no books. Since Father’s apprentice had gone with him to the king’s fitting, I did not even have anyone to talk to.
    I went to the door and opened it. No one was in sight but, in the distance, I heard singing. The music had the familiar cadence of a hymn and I reasoned that it must be coming from a chapel. How dangerous, I asked myself, could it be to listen to choristers rehearse? Certain of my logic, I followed the marvelous sound of those voices.
    The Chapel Royal is not a place. It moves with the court. The singers of the Chapel Royal are of two sorts: the children of the chapel—a dozen boy choristers who lodge with the Master of the Chapel—and the gentlemen ordinary of the choir. Both groups perform sacred music for church services, but they also sing secular songs to entertain the king.
    On this cold December day, the gentlemen were rehearsing. As was appropriate, they were in the chapel where the king worshipped. No one noticed me creep in. I was small enough to be almost invisible and my plain, dark garments blended nicely with the shadows.
    Hidden behind a pillar, I stayed very still and listened to them practice. I was moved to tears by some of the hymns and awed by others. I do not know how long I lingered there, but I did not leave until the choristers finished their practice for the day and began to disperse. Only then did I make my way back to Father’s workroom.
    I saw no one along the way except one yeoman of the guard and he ignored me. Mistress Yerdeley still slept, only waking a few minutes before Father returned to collect us and take us back to London.

7
1539
    I accompanied Father to court a number of times during the months that followed. I saw the king briefly during each visit. On these occasions, His Grace would invariably ask after my welfare and that of Pocket. I took to bringing the little dog with me, since he fit easily into a carrying pouch. This amused King Henry but did not change the pattern of our meetings.
    Mistress Yerdeley continued in her role as my companion and I continued, the moment she drifted off to sleep, to slip away to the chapel in the hope of finding choristers rehearsing. Although I remained hidden, I was soon able to recognize individuals, especially among the adult singers. These gentlemen took turns playing the organ to accompany their fellows. Some of them also composed music. As I watched and listened, I learned some of their names but I also began to absorb bits of the instruction that was given to the boy choristers in plainchant and harmony. I have always had a good ear for music. Without even thinking about it, I committed to memory almost every tune I heard.
    There was one hymn I particularly liked, although I did not tryto reproduce the lyrics. The words were Latin and I did not understand that language. Instead I substituted nonsense syllables into the tune. On a cold early December day just a year after my first encounter with the choristers, I was tra-la-la-ing to this piece as I returned to Father’s workroom.
    A bellow of rage from