acquitted himself well, taking part in the jousts and tournaments that followed the coronation and hosting his fellows for dinner one night in his London house. 30 His thoughts, though, were still on matrimony – albeit now in a different quarter.
Princess Elizabeth, left alone at Enfield following Edward’s departure, had slowly begun to pack up her household. With the loss of her ‘own matchless and most kind father’, she was now an orphan. At thirteen years old, she was too young to live without family supervision, even within her own household. 31 Her ‘beloved mother’, Catherine Parr, was the obvious candidate to be her guardian, and Catherine welcomed her at Greenwich when she arrived there, which was by late February 1547. During his frequent and passionate visits to the queen, Thomas Seymour was able to catch a glance at the princess – black-clad and pale with mourning. He approved. Confident and handsome, he was certain that he could win Elizabeth.
Once again, he sought an audience with his brother and his other friends on the Council, asking that they should consent to this match. Predictably, they refused. Yet Thomas resolved to ignore this ‘good advice given to the contrary’. 32 He desired a royal bride and Elizabeth fitted the bill perfectly. On 25 February 1547, less than a month after the death of Elizabeth’s father, Seymour sat down to make her an offer in writing. He wrote of his respect for her, which was so great that ‘I dare not tell you of the fire which consumes me, and the impatience with which I yearn to show you my devotion’. 33 He claimed to be burning with love for her. If she would only show him kindness, she would have ‘made the happiness of a man who will adore you till death’. He was offering the girl marriage, if she would only consent.
Elizabeth was ‘very much surprised’ to receive Thomas’s letter. She had previously had little direct contact with him and, although she found him dashing (as most women did), she had never contemplated him as a husband. Thomas flattered her. She thanked him in her response, declaring that ‘the letter you have written to me is the most obliging, and at the same time the most eloquent in the world’. 34 He had taken her breath away, and she did not consider herself ‘competent to reply to so many courteous expressions’, but she knew that she needed to unburden herself to him. She was too young, she insisted, to even think of matrimony. She also reproved him gently, contending that ‘I never would have believed that anyone would have spoken to me of nuptials, at a time when I ought to think of nothing but sorrow for the death of my father’. Her words were not, however, an outright refusal. She required time to enjoy ‘some years my virgin state’ and to mature into womanhood; and she intended to mourn her father (‘to him I owe so much’) for at least two years. But after that, she would be open to offers. Elizabeth discussed the letter only with her governess, Kate Ashley – but the decision to reject Seymour’s offer was made by her alone. Catherine Parr was entirely oblivious of Thomas’s suit.
Attempting to woo the king’s sister with the express disapproval of the Council was a desperate act. Seymour cannot have been surprised at Elizabeth’s decision ‘to decline the happiness of becoming your wife’, although it disappointed him. She did, at least, assure him of her eternal friendship and the pleasure she would feel ‘in being your servant, and good friend’. While friendship with a princess was potentially useful, it would not increase Seymour’s actual status one jot.
Picking himself up quickly from this second rejection, Thomas made a decision. On 3 March 1547, in a private moment amid the comings and goings of the queen’s household, Thomas Seymour and Catherine Parr were married. The queen forgot her station when she promised ‘to honour, love, and such in all lawful thing obey’ her alluring