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Open Fire; Tag: Lady Catherine Willoughby
Topic Started: Oct 11 2010, 05:17 PM (297 Views)
Anne Parr
Unregistered

[align=center]Late November 1511[/align]

It sounded like a distant waterfall; the sheer echo of the water tumbling down into a crystal pool. There were no interruptions, just the continuous fall of water into a deep and mysterious basin. It sounded like a simple rain shower, when droplets of water would hit the cold ground, falling against it one million at a time. It sounded like the simplistic drizzle on a pane of glass, as water would slowly slide down the transparent material and dive into a growing pit of tears.

Shaking. Shivering. It was cold, unusually cold, even for autumn in England. The rain kept on falling. It had been like that for days. On and off again. The sun had decided to hide its only warmth, the only light, and the only joy that everyone had been feeling as of late. She had noticed that those at Court had spent the majority of their time indoors over the past number of days, their moods varied and overall rather dismal. Anne had thought that she could perhaps escape the rain, even for a few short hours, in order to take a well loved book and read it out of doors in the gardens of Hampton Court. Needless to say, that promise had been short lived for her. She so desired to escape being trapped indoors. The air was becoming stale. Having recently returned from Powis Castle in Wales, the atmosphere was arguably more refreshing and far less crowded than the refuse of Court.

Turning to step up a pair of concrete stairs that led into the Great Hall, her small-heeled shoes clapped loudly against the small puddles that had began to form from the darkened sky. She had loved rain when it was alive to her and fell less frequently than now. She had always enjoyed being the one to be sitting or standing in its wake. Her sister, Katherine, had chided her beforehand when she had been younger, recalling that it would make her ill if she stood out in it for too long. "You should not be standing in it at all. You are not a barbarian. Honestly," Katherine used to say. The thought of it brought a tender smile to Anne's lips as she ran underneath the roof of the palace. Her feet had started to become wet. She had tried running as fast as she could before the rain could torment her further, but to no avail. Running into the confines of the building, giving one final tug to the small hood that covered her head, she slammed the door shut before any water dared to come in and follow her.

She let out an exhausted sigh. She could hear it falling against the doors. Brushing out her scarcely wet chocolate locks, Anne moved more towards the interior of the Hall, her eyes gliding over the faces of those whom she knew, the others not at all. It was late in the afternoon and the room was beginning to fill with the other members of Court. No doubt, dinner was soon to be served. She walked slowly between them, pondering to herself of what she was intending on doing the remainder of the day. Lord Chamerlyn had remained at Powis for still a number of weeks, so Anne visiting him at his chambers was out of the question at the moment.

Turning to stare deeper into the Hall, her dark eyes spotted the Lady Catherine Dudley, a dear friend, but one whom Anne had not spoken to for what felt like weeks. It probably had been due to Anne's rather rapid departure to Powis earlier in the prior month. With a smile, Anne approached her, giving her a welcoming curtsy.

"Oh, my dearest Lady Catherine," she began, resting a gentle hand upon her arm. "It has been so long since we have last spoken and there is much to say. How fortunate for me that I have run into you this day. You must forgive my partially frightful appearance, however. This rain is positively dreadful."
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Catherine Willoughby
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Whilst the rain pounded on the roof, there was no way many would go outside and ruin their fine clothes, even for a refreshing jaunt for that would be too undignifying. Having participated in one of those embarrassing trips outside where she tripped in the mud and ruined her favorite gown, the Countess of Warwick was not going to do that again, no matter how fun it was. Inside, the many rooms were stuffy and warm. Fresh herbs were continually strewn about the floors, yet it did not keep the rooms any airier with no windows being open for a glimpse of sunlight to stream in and fresh air. Autumn was not a time for that, at least not this late, when the season was turning gradually into winter.

Having entered the great hall with the other ladies of the court, namely heading up the Queen's ladies, Catherine found herself engaged in yet another popular past time at court: loitering about waiting for something to happen. Standing around was an occupation in itself. In the company of women all day, she was really looking about for her husband but alas she did not see him. As a married woman she had gradually come to believe that not much was changed from her life beforehand. They still rarely saw each other, except now that time they did was at night after the feasting and dancing going on nightly. Such things would in time become less grand, thanks to the season of Advent, where everything was somber in expectation for the joy that was Christmastide. Even now it was being observed, in that many fasted, although the King decreed that certain foods forbidden during Lent were classified as fish for the ever-consuming court. Ridiculous, but one could do what they wanted when they were the voice of God on earth in England.

In her dark, plain gown, not advertising her heresy yet rather her obedience to the customs of Advent, standing amongst the ladies, how desperate she was for someone else! Someone to talk to that would not gossip the same damned thing over and over as they had all. day. long! Catherine would have given anything for it, she thought, fingering the little prayer book she wore on a chain around her waist that matched the jeweled gold cross at her neck.

Just as she groused to herself, in her head, these thoughts, it seemed God had answered her facetious prayer. Anne Parr approached her, and a smile came to Catherine's lips when she felt the older woman's hand on her arm. "Lady Anne!" she exclaimed, blue eyes twinkling. "I am so glad you are here, I was about to drop dead of boredom thanks to repetitive gossip. Are you well? It seems it has been years since we have seen one another!" The way Anne Parr looked, her hair slightly damp, did not get much of a comment. She could figure well enough what she was doing. Outside for some reason, whatever it was. The older lady was certainly more of a free spirit than the formal Catherine Dudley. "The way the rain fashions your hair, it suits."
[align=center]"I must shape my own coat according to my cloth, but it will not be after the fashion of this world but fit for me."

Catherine is in 2 threads.
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Anne Parr
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"Does it? Anne laughed, placing a tender hand upon her head and sliding it partially through her wet locks. In comparison to Catherine Dudley, Anne Parr must have appeared horrid indeed. Glancing upon the young woman, Anne's better no doubt, her smile only widened to see her modesty. There were very few whom Anne could relate to in terms of humility or inhibition, and Lady Catherine was one of them. Anne could do nothing but esteem her for her graces, let alone for her devotions to God. "You flatter me for I do not look myself at this moment. I am more used to your approach when appearances are concerned. You look lovelier than I, I am quite certain." She offered her a slight nod while removing her cloak, resting it upon her arm to reveal a burnt orange gown underneath.

Anne's gaze, however, moved to face the occupants of the Great Hall once again, another sigh escaping her lips. She reminded herself that she did not miss the bustle of court life. How many of these faces mocked others or traded them off? The Duke of Suffolk, a dear friend of hers, had once told her that it was more about playing her cards correctly in order to keep out of trouble. Anne suspected that he was faultless in his assertion. Gain and deceit ran rampant here, but she was rather quick to push that away from her thoughts. Without turning back to look immediately to Lady Catherine, she inclined her head towards her instead, her eyes falling upon a group of men appearing to be somewhat intoxicated. "Died out of boredom, my Lady?" Anne raised a brow in question at the men, considering their absurdity. "I do not see how or why considering the amount of foolishness that resides here. As for the gossip, how do you stand it? I care nothing for it at all. Does that make me appear ignorant, for I cannot say."

She herself had noticed that the celebrations for Advent were on their way, hovering upon the horizon. It would, for a time, tame the nonsense at Court, if only by a degree. The men who emerged as somewhat befuddled across the room would more than likely become more so, as Advent conveniently did not ban wine from the diet. Of course not. God forbid that the effects of alcohol be halted, even for a matter of weeks throughout the year. That was the rule of men, not of God, Anne was certain. Not that she did not enjoy drinking wine. On the contrary, but as a woman, she was significantly more inclined to regard its effects upon her person. She had a reputation to keep.

"As for my spirits as of late, they remain quite elevated, thank you." She turned her attention back to the Countess, a smile not once leaving her features. "I have just recently returned to Court upon taking a leave of absence from the side of the Princess Mary. She was good enough to allow me to go to Powis Castle in Wales for a short time. It was wonderful to pull myself away for a time, gather my thoughts." Naturally, Anne left it at that. She did not feel the need to expand upon it further, hoping that Lady Catherine would not ask for more intimate details as per why she had left. Perhaps the lady knew Lord Chamerlyn, perhaps not, but Anne did not allow her enough time to ask regardless, as her silence was short lived, interjecting her with another question.

"And it has been quite some time since I have had the pleasure to speak with you, my Lady. How do you fare? Have you quite managed to keep yourself out of trouble?" She smiled, her beam good natured in its jest.
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Catherine Willoughby
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Anne Parr stood out in that interesting gown, despite the condition of her hair, thought Catherine, a friendly smile still on the younger lady's face. Such a color was not suitable for someone like Catherine--but it was for Anne, but Anne was a pretty woman. "I flatter you by teasing?" asked the countess with a merry laugh, her blue eyes sparkling in amusement at the mere idea. "Were I you I would not spend so much time in the rain. Too bad you did not see me when I was running outside. I looked horrific--and my gown! My favorite gown, ruined by the mud and rain..." And what a gorgeous gown it was, too, never to be worn again for her poor maids could simply not clean it well enough. Now it was simply remains, scraps of blue cloth to be given to those who could use it. Her brows rose slightly, lips falling in a little pout; but she couldn't hold it, a giggle escaping her mouth. "Nothing I would do again. I like my expensive gowns too much to destroy yet another by acting like a foolish child." While Anne was more willing, it seemed, to engage in childish yet fun past-times, Catherine was not; she thought too highly of herself, took herself too seriously, to ever enjoy life as she had when she was a girl. "And me? Lovely? You jest." She was not fishing for compliments, stating her incredulity as fact. Catherine didn't care about such things, as Anne who knew her well enough surely knew.

Her eyes followed the direction of Lady Anne's. Men having far too much to drink, laughing loudly, imposing themselves on various women who did not want their company: it was a common sight, something Catherine side-stepped. Being known as a stoic young woman of strong virtues helped her in avoiding irritants like loud, bawdy men. "I was speaking more of the ladies, not men who behave like stupid children," she scoffed, voice full of scorn as she glanced back to Anne. "All they speak of is gossip and it makes you wonder what they say about you once you turn away!" She shook her head, her long dangling earrings of gold and pearl nearly brushing her shoulders, her light brown hair styled in the Florentine fashion the Queen favored her ladies to wear. "I don't mind much what they say about me; they are not worth friendship, unlike you," she added, a bright smile flashed Anne's way, not something she indulged in much. If one had a smile from Catherine, then they truly were trusted friends she actually cared for. No, they hadn't known one another as long, but their personalities were similar enough that there had been an immediate connection between them.

Anne's words made Catherine nod, the smile still on her lips. The expression on Anne's face, the brightness in her eyes; the fact that her spirits were elevated, as she put it, was obvious. But what was it that made her so happy? She was so very curious, but held back from outright asking. It would be rude and presumptuous, even to a friend. Opening her mouth to say something else instead, she shut it once Anne spoke of Powis Castle. In Wales? But why? "You were in Wales, Lady Anne? Why were you there? Any pressing business?" Innocently curious, that was Catherine. She just had to know. Whyever would Lady Anne Parr from a little castle in Westmorland have anything to do with a castle in Wales? Were she aware of Arthur Chamerlyn, she could have figured it out for herself, but she was not, and so she had no idea.

Interest in her own question quite faded when Catherine considered what Anne asked her. The smile quirking up into a near-smirk, she simply said, "Trouble? Me? Why would you think I would get myself in trouble?" Biting back the desire to laugh, her fingers absently found the gold chain of her girdle belt about her waist, for something to fiddle with. "Otherwise, I am well enough. Being married is not so different than being unmarried, except for I have to spend too much time in the morning getting ready. You'll see, it's fairly tedious, sitting there for upwards of two hours as maids set your hair for the day!" Pausing a moment, she bit her lower lip, mirth in her eyes. "And here I go, small talk about nothing, which is almost as bad as gossip!"
[align=center]"I must shape my own coat according to my cloth, but it will not be after the fashion of this world but fit for me."

Catherine is in 2 threads.
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Anne Parr
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The scene was truly ridiculous. It pleased Anne mightily to know that the female sex was somewhat limited in certain areas, and displaying rather rambunctious behavior was one of them. That was not to say that she did not have her own fair share of amusement, but it was somewhat different for women, and alcohol was usually never involved. She very much kept her distance from troublesome men at Court, again very much considering her own position in the eyes of those who hovered around her. When Lady Catherine mentioned that her scorn was directed more towards women, Anne could not help the smirk that came to her features as she looked back to her. "I think that we are both equally aware of what is said as soon as our backs are turned, Lady Catherine," she said, glancing about the two of them to keep from prying ears. "It is all merely a game to see who can be elevated the highest and at the quickest of speeds. Most women would tear down whomever they could to be deemed the most noble or righteous, even at the expense of others." A polite sound of derision escaped from Anne's mouth, more of a gentle snort of contempt than anything else. "Would they truly be seen as honorable then? I hesitate to believe so. Merely vultures. You, however, my dearest Lady, a vulture you are not."

Secretly, Anne hoped to never to find herself in this category of ladies. This became a portion of her reasoning as to why she kept what she heard to herself. There were very few women, as well as men, who could be given an inch of trust or expectation of reliance amongst those the Court. Whatever could be used would be used against her. However, it brought Anne even greater happiness to know that there was a young lady who did happen to see some more in her regard. Perhaps it was that they were both similar in their virtue or perceptions. Anne and Catherine demonstrated two individual women with opposing sides their personalities, and yet I handful of dispositions that were identical. Anne may have been more carefree, but this was not to say that Catherine was not. She may perhaps have had a more strict principle to follow, a more proper opinion of herself.

Upon the mention of Powis Castle, Anne realized that she may have allowed her mouth to run along too far. She immediately placed herself on guard, back peddling. However, what was she to say to make light of the situation? Brushing a stray strang of her brown curls away from her face, Anne smiled, her joy filled with good nature. "I believe that you could say the journey there was related to a specific employment. It was due to a personal matter of familial connection. I did not stay long. My presence was required back at Hampton Court. I would not leave the side of the Princess Mary for an extended period. I value my duties here far too greatly." No, this was not exclusively a falsity. There was truth and the statement, but one people would hear of in due course. She greatly chastised her need to detract from Catherine Dudley, but now was most certainly not the time to be speaking of such matters.

However, Lady Catherine appeared to be amused with Anne's question, the obvious smirk resting upon her features. Anne did not believe it likely that Catherine Dudley would find herself in any sort of a dilemma. She was merely playing with her. Anne's attentions, on the other hand, stirred with the mention of marriage and its unchanging state. She had little doubt that Lady Catherine was incorrect, considering that Anne herself did not yet know what it felt like to be married. That still remained some time away, though again, Anne could not speak of it.

Resting a hand upon Catherine's arm, Anne smiled, shaking her chocolate locks in the process, only wishing to comfort her. "Do not let yourself be troubled with the topic of conversation, my Lady Catherine. It is of no consequence, so worry yourself not. You mentioned that marriage feels hardly any different than being unmarried. I was hoping that you would have stated otherwise! One would think differently on the subject considering that the institution of marriage is so highly regarded in the eyes of God, as well as the Church." Anne beamed, but a little sadly, motioning to the prayer book about the woman's waist. Anne did not carry one, though she perhaps should have, but never once did. "I find my attachment to Christendom rests primarily between a personal relationship between myself and God. Forgive me, but you appear considerably closer to Him than I do. That is not to say I am a heretic by any means, but I find myself more appreciate of Him within the chapel alone than in the company of others."
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Catherine Willoughby
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"I can assure you I can indeed be like them, Lady Anne," mused Catherine with a short laugh. "I gossip about them as much as they gossip about me, I daresay. I don't feel bad about it; I don't like them, they don't like me. It matters not what they think. If they don't like me, I don't worry overmuch about it. I would rather they not, for if they did, then something surely would be wrong with my character. Wouldn't you agree?" Flashing her older companion a wry smile, she did not seem one bit abashed that there were people at court who did not like her. Being friends with loose-living women who flapped their tongues all the livelong day was not something Catherine bothered with. Friends were ones you trusted and wished to be around, not those whose presence you wished to leave as soon as possible. "I am glad you do not think me a vulture. Though I can be as horrid as the next girl, just not as bad," she added, a little smirk of amusement playing on her lips before disappearing.

Noting the look on Anne's face, Catherine wondered what it was she found at Powis Castle to so make her eyes sparkle as they did. "You are very good at saying things while saying nothing at all," she commented, viewing Anne's words as meaning utterly nothing, hiding her true reasons. Curious as she was, Catherine did want to know, but she would not push; instead, just make an amused observance based on the way the lady spoke to her. "I am sure you wish not to tarry here much longer. I can see whatever disposed you to go to Wales was something...enjoyable." A small smile crinkled Catherine's eyes, a hint of knowing there, wondering if her ideas were right. She would never have pinpointed what transpired there, for Catherine was nothing if not a stereotypical good girl and thought Anne the same, but there was simply something in the way Anne's face lit up... She found something in Wales, no doubt, to make her happy.

Brows rising, she wondered what Anne wished for her to say about marriage instead. Catherine admittedly did not speak of such things very much. Personal matters were not to be trifled with. They were far too important for courtly small talk that involved, well, nothing but gossip and name-dragging. "I could say more," she quipped to Anne wryly, "but it would not be ladylike of me if I did." Her gaze upon Anne Parr's face was intrigued as the other woman gestured so to the prayer book she wore. All women tended to wear jeweled crosses at their throats to show their piety. The prayer book Catherine herself thought a little much, but wary as she was for her soul and what on earth would happen to her if her little escapade of illegal reading was found out, she thought she would be safe in over-doing it so to all and sundry she appeared a good, obedient lady fervent about her Catholic faith.

When she spoke to Anne, her voice was quieter. She did not want others to ever hear what she was saying. She trusted Anne enough to hint a little that while Anne Parr may not be a heretic, Catherine Dudley surely was in more ways than one. "You are right. I think so, too," she murmured. "I do not believe it matters much how we worship Him, only that we do, that it is true in our hearts. I do not think it matters much if we pray in Latin or English, or if we wish to read the Word of God instead of being told what to believe and how to do it. God gave us a mind to use, did He not?"

She had no idea how Anne would take her words, but if the lady were not utterly shocked and filled with contempt by them, Catherine would have more to say on the matter. For now, she was being cautious. Trustworthy though she was, the countess was not entirely sure of inviting Lady Anne Parr into her circle of women like herself. She was on the look out to not only save her soul but keep her head.
[align=center]"I must shape my own coat according to my cloth, but it will not be after the fashion of this world but fit for me."

Catherine is in 2 threads.
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Anne Parr
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"You are very good at saying things while saying nothing at all." The mere statement had caught the hazel eyed doe entirely off guard. It was as blunt and sharp as the edge of a knife, honestly and yet innocently scathing her. However, it was sincere above all else. As uncomfortable as Anne instantly felt at the unintentional jab, or what she assumed was inadvertent and could very well be the opposite, she was grateful at the same time. Frankness was something she enjoyed as a quality in others. Amidst the duplicity at Court, where one could not wait for the opportunity to strike at the other, bearing down upon them with such force, this was a most refreshing change. "I must say, Lady Catherine, was it that obvious? Am I that simple to view, an open book to all? If that shall be the case than I shall venture immediately to change my disposition. I fear the consequences of being too transparent here, and for obvious reasons."

Luckily, Anne was not pressed for further information on the subject. Managing to change the subject quickly had saved her. She could lash out upon her own heedlessness, being so irresponsible and sloppy in her actions. If she were to hold somewhat of a political appointment, which was to happen, without a doubt, very soon, she would need to control every bit of her behavior right down to the unrestricted image upon the features of her visage. Giving away too much in appearance could detriment her severely, depending upon the affair. Nay, not yet would she speak of her rash actions with Lord Arthur Chamerlyn. Catherine Dudley was a great deal more refined than she, or so Anne had thought. The lady played the part with little to no application. This appeared even more overt in how easily she had circumvented speaking of her marriage. Perhaps it had been too improper to ask, but it was out of interest than inquisition. The reason for Anne's question, however, lay shrouded in mist. Anne could have easily examined the state of matrimony by going to her mother, but she would not have had the provocation. Questions would commence and follow, turning into a never-ending diagnosis.

Watching Lady Catherine most carefully, Anne found yet some excess comfort knowing that Catherine also somewhat sided with her own standards of worship. Anne never did overtly display her devotion to God, though unlike her brother, she was a Catholic. Not as steadfast as her mother would have desired, Anne held an unfettered attachment to the Lord, her Savior. She would find herself within the Royal Chapel's decorative and thick arches much less than she let on. It was not as if she were suppressing her religion. No, she was most certainly more of a private believer, wandering into God's open hands when she felt it appropriate. One could witness her, rosary in hand, upon her knees and in prayer at quite random occurrences.

However, once Lady Catherine's voice fell by less than subtle degrees, forcing Anne to lean in more closely to capture the woman's words, she did not quite anticipate the words that would flow from her coral lips. "Pray in Latin or in English, my Lady?" Anne questioned, even lowering the decibels in her vocals. She took a cautious step towards her, brushing a gentle hand upon her arm. "As greatly as I believe that we women should use our intelligence to surely better ourselves and our judgments, Lady Catherine, surely you jest about reading the Lord's words in English, let alone judging the book's contents and reading it at all? It is not exactly a subject to be studied.Why, I have never heard of such a thing."

It was not as though anger would find itself present within her person. She was patient woman who parried agitation marvelously. Though she was shocked to find herself standing before an apostate, Lady Catherine of all people, should she have been so surprised? Perhaps not. Anne's own brother had also demonstrated a keenness to finding a likeness of God that did not equal Anne's own opinion or faith. It would have been foolish of her to imagine that heretics were not present within the faces of those she surrounded herself with each day. Again, the lady's honesty captivated Anne, drawing her forward. "You do understand the dangers, I am certain, my Lady, if you were caught preaching this truth to others." A frown laced itself across her forehead as Anne drew her ever nearer. "Rest assured that you needn't fear me for I will never speak of the matter with anyone, but this is utter madness."

The entire moment could only remind Anne of an indivisible truth about herself: her trustworthiness. She not only would withhold this secret from others, but already was aware of many secrets floating about Court concerning various people that she knew. Though she valued honesty, Anne herself had become the keeper of the unseen on behalf of many. This was simply yet another to add to the pile of cryptic information that floated about her head.
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Catherine Willoughby
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Her head tilting to the side, Catherine pursed her lips, examining the face of the lady before her. ”No,” she said hurriedly, ”that is not what I meant at all. What I meant was, that you and I are still like anyone else here. We’ve learned the trick of speaking when it means nothing, to make people think we care and are listening to their petty concerns when we don’t, yet we must speak lest they think badly of us.” A skill that was difficult to acquire, at least for Catherine, who liked straightforward speech without having to bumble about trying to figure out what the person speaking to her meant. At least she could engage in normal conversation with Anne Parr, not worrying about flowery speech or thinking overmuch on one’s words to make sure no one could truly know what one was saying. ”It is why I like speaking with you. We don’t need that, we can be as we are, without any problems.”

The smile upon Catherine's lips, the smile she gave Anne, was quite different than the usual expression of warmth and friendliness. She knew that by saying this she was outing herself as one of the worst things on this earth according to many: a heretic. She knew that by saying it she opened herself up to ridicule, to attack, to even worse. Although she knew it, she trusted Anne Parr as she trusted only a few in her life. Trustworthiness, constancy, the things she did not take for granted in her own person were a mirror in the lady before her who Catherine knew shared such virtues. By saying what she had, Catherine simply was telling Anne the order of things as ordained by the Roman Catholic Church was not all well and good—and perhaps, to get another friend in on her little secret, to sit and have discussions on religion and all sorts of godly things with a lady of intelligence and a better education than Catherine could ever have had. Her countenance was rather sly with that smile, a little sparkle in her blue eyes. ”Do you think I jest, my lady?” she asked simply. ”No. For we are intelligent, and I know you have a better education than I. You—like I do—think for yourself, don’t you?” A simple question, albeit loaded in a world where women were not encouraged to do so under any circumstances. ”Why do you not think it is a subject to be studied? God wants us to study His Word, why else would it be written down? Just for the clergy and not the laity? We have a right—no, a duty—to read it.”

Everything she was saying was heretical, illegal, things that could easily have gotten her imprisoned, or worse, had it reached the wrong ears; but she made sure to speak in an earnest whisper, wanting to turn this friend to her side, to show her the things she had learned from her little meetings with Anne Askew. For a few moments she wondered if she ought to say anything. The prospect of gaining another friend to learn amongst the other ladies about their faith was tantalizing. Catherine was no evangelizer, she had no interest in telling everyone loud and clear that she was turning away from her Catholic upbringing. She did not care much about bringing others to the cause. It was simply a personal interest, aided and abetted by logic and disgust at certain church practices. She valued her head too much for that. But she liked the idea of learning, especially something so forbidden, that in her mind should be one of the things given freely to everyone: knowledge of God.

”I have started a group, of a small group of ladies, where we may read the Bible and speak of it amongst ourselves. I speak of it because I wish for you to come, if you’d like. I have even written a letter to the Archbishop of Canterbury, and he approves of it. He will make sure no harm shall come to us for doing such a thing that is not exactly…” She let out a little giggle. ”That is not exactly a woman’s past time. It is not gossip, for certain! If not, I understand why you would not wish to come.” For once, she had empathy. Anne Parr rejecting her offer wouldn’t have surprised her in the least, for accepting it not only meant the lady was curious but it meant she was stepping into a world forbidden to them not only as the laity but as women who were thought not only inferior but incapable of understanding God and His mysterious ways.

Catherine wasn’t afraid of it, and she thought Anne would not be either. Though of different temperaments, she suspected they were of the same mettle: stubborn and strong-willed.
[align=center]"I must shape my own coat according to my cloth, but it will not be after the fashion of this world but fit for me."

Catherine is in 2 threads.
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Anne Parr
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It seemed that Anne Parr had come to an impasse in her life, the first of its kind, especially of this given magnitude. It was as if she were standing between two closed doors, unbeknownst of what lay behind them, but knowing that a decision needed to be made, regardless of its dangers. Of all of her years of education, it was her logic that was required here. However, would she dispense of it completely? No, everything within her mind screamed at her now. She knew the risks that would entail her following Lady Catherine's words. Anne also could not imagine that the woman before her, the woman she valued so much for her virtuous conduct, strident tongue, impeccable quiescent behavior and awareness, could be led so far astray from her sensibilities. Anne could also fathom the dire consequences if Catherine was ever found hiding such a secret, let alone practicing what she was preaching. With little to no regard for her safety, no less.

"I don't believe that you jest, my Lady, but you must forgive me," Anne shook her head in frustration, if not a little violently as she took a firmer hold of the lady's arm, pulling her closer to one of the doorways to the Great Hall. She motioned Lady Catherine to follow her, away from everything until they were tucked away in a corner of the corridor together. "This is not about intelligence and about thinking for myself. This is not about what education I have received or what I have chosen to do with it. This is imprudence, a complete and utter folly. When Heaven's name are you thinking following this course of action?" Anne had witnessed others stumbling before her in their quest to prove their worth, one way or another. The sheer look of frolic had so overcome Lady Catherine's features that Anne was sure she would be required to pull the woman back from the breaches of Hell. "I comprehend your desire to seek a better understanding of our faith, if not a closer relationship to our God, but this is most certainly not the proper method. The Bible is not meant to be questioned. It is not for you to question its words or its contents. A woman above all!" She exclaimed, almost at once silencing herself to avoid creating a commotion. "Know this, Lady Catherine, as a woman I do not believe that we should be withheld from reading the word of God. I heartily agree that women are capable of reaching a sound appointment and comprehension with His words. Although, it is against the law. Is that what you are telling me? That you have become a heretic with your antics of not only reading the Bible, the questioning it as well? This is not to be born!"

As Anne stood there watching in pure disbelief that one of her dearest friends had confided her intentions, she doubted that it was their duty as those of the weaker sex to be judges of the supreme head on earth. If Catherine was ever found to have committed this crime, which she had wholeheartedly just admitted to her, she would be tried and no doubt burnt as many others have been before her. Anne would see to it that her lips were sealed for the safety of her friend, which was a form of treason in its own right. She was not about to demand that she turn herself over into the hands of the authorities for her abject thoughts, but Anne herself felt sullied and vulnerable, unable to escape what had so fallen upon her without any sort of warning. Lady Catherine was not the type to allow her words to be heard by the world about her, but why could she have not practiced her new found religious views without concerning others? There was no doubt that Anne did not agree with all of her Catholic conceptions, let alone the exorbitant wealth of the Church. If it was a Christians duty to be humble and donating, why did it require the riches bestowed within its monasteries? By this point, Anne was not only amazed, but equally as exasperated and piqued.

"I respect your longing to determine where your constancy within our Lord rests, but I cannot give reverence to your shortsighted notion of interpreting His meaning. If you are discovered, you will be finished. I beg you to reconsider what you are placing in danger by continuing down this path."

What followed after this, however, with Lady Catherine's next admission only caused Anne's eyes to widen significantly. The simple fact that the younger woman felt a sense of amusement, her giggle echoing between them both emphatically, almost caused Anne help to feel a sense of illness coming on. Her stare was far from blank, but she could feel her cheeks flush over. Lady Catherine may not have stated her opinions publicly, but she had managed to string along other women to this cause. The thought of it caused Anne to draw in a heavy sigh, surely of disappointment. The woman was persuasive, Anne even feeling a sensation of empathy regarding her points of view. Knowing that, she immediately closed off the empathy, feeling herself in danger. This was volatile. She needn't explain to Lady Catherine what all of this could mean. The woman knew full well that her life was on the line, standing precariously at the edges of a precipice. This is forbidden and far from farcical.

"You have involved others? How many?" Anne demanded, taking a step closer to her, her voice steady but stifled into silence. "A member of the clergy will not be able to save you here. A single person to validate your actions? Why, it is as absurd as telling a child stop being a child. Do you realize that you're imitating simply that: a young, disobedient, fatuous little girl? You have not only allowed yourself harm, but you have placed other women upon thin ice, ice that threatens to break underneath your feet? Archbishop or not, you are playing a disastrous game with other members at Court, my Lady, staunch Christians who will see through a single Archbishop's folly choices at adhering to your revelations, let alone the revelations of a female."
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Catherine Willoughby
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vérité sans peur
The previous amused countenance the youthful Countess of Warwick had upon her face faded with every word Anne Parr spoke, every word that infuriated her, lit a flame to her famed temper so it would burn long and hard. How Anne thought she was being foolish, stupid, that this was all beyond their understanding for they were women! It was not her fear that spoke thus, Catherine was convinced, but the ridiculous lies that had been stuffed into her brain all lifelong. Anne Parr was an intelligent lady, with a far better education than Catherine herself: why would she not wish to question? Not to question the Word of God, but to know it for herself, to know she was reading it and was not being told what its contents were by a man at the pulpit who was a king in corruption and indecency. Anne Askew's lessons had been burned into Catherine's impressionable mind. Why would someone so bright deny knowledge thusly? She had no utter clue; the wonder in this tempered her anger towards her friend, though her lips set hard in a thin line, the hollow under her cheekbone more visible thanks to how she gritted her teeth trying desperately to hold back her words until Anne was done speaking.

"Learning for oneself about God is not folly," she hissed, blue eyes flashing anger as she took a step away from Anne, her voice barely above a furious whisper. If anyone saw these women, they would assume they were arguing, most likely about something foolish as women were wont to do, not about a matter where one held their life in their hands if they were not careful and discreet. "If I am a heretic for I wish to learn the words of Our Lord, and learn from it, and be a better daughter of Him, then, call me a heretic if you wish. I am not. I think things must change, yet, do I not believe the bread and the wine is as his body and blood? Do I not pray my rosary? Do I not pray for the state of the church, so she may be returned to what she ought to be in God's eyes?" She snatched a breath, turning her face away from the older woman as if she were barely able to contain herself; it was true. Catherine wanted to give in to her tempestuous nature, to shout, to tell Anne how utterly wrong she was about everything. Anne Parr was, she thought, a brave, strong soul. Anne Parr was not as she believed, then.

A sharp exhalation of breath, through her teeth, brought Catherine's gaze back to Anne. "If you think it folly and a danger, then, by all means, step away." The young lady's voice was laced with not only discontent but mocking acid, the same tongue used as a weapon for her enemies now used upon her friend. "I thought you were better than that, that you would wish to learn whereas we as women are forbidden to go which is not aright in the eyes of God, I am sure, for are we not all made in His image? The others who have joined me are doing it upon their own accord, for their own knowledge, those close to me I trust whom I have asked--just like you--to come if they wish. If they fear the stake, then, they are fools."

She had all the pride of a young girl given too much--wealth, a position, a pride of place in life that ranked her amongst the noble few at court--too soon, her chin lifted high, jaw set, expectant on getting what she wanted: her friend, and such an intelligent, wise friend, to join her in this endeavor she thought in her delusions blessed by God. "Dominus lux mea et salutare meum quem timebo Dominus fortitudo vitae meae quem formidabo," she quoted, one of the many Psalms she knew from memory thanks to her religious upbringing as a good, obedient daughter of the church. Her voice, passionate with anger as well as earnestness, the latter reflected in her eyes, did not quaver. That one line, from that one Psalm, reflected all she believed, for if the Lord was with her as she believed, no harm would come to her or the other so-called heretics who lurked the great hall.

With a huff, she turned away from Anne, not only angry but disappointed, Catherine at least knew one thing: that she would keep her word, that she would be silent as the grave, for there was a nagging voice at the back of her head saying no matter if the Lord was with her, others would surely be against her, just as they were the others who sought to turn back time and shake off superstition whilst encouraging knowledge of God to all.

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Psalm 27:1 - The Lord is my light and my salvation; of whom shall I be afraid?
[align=center]"I must shape my own coat according to my cloth, but it will not be after the fashion of this world but fit for me."

Catherine is in 2 threads.
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