This Ravished Rose

by Anne Carsley

  Katherine sniffed. Right for him, indeed. In ten months, did fortune smile, she might be traveling to Rome or perhaps Florence. Meeting Lady Sarah’s eyes, she laughed aloud at the conspiracy joined.

  Chapter 14

  Friendship's Leaven

  In the days that followed Katherine kept much to herself with the exception of visits to Lady Sarah. They drank wine, ate biscuits and exchanged chatter about the servants and the weather; but in the end the conversation always returned to the inexhaustible topic of James.

  Lady Sarah would say, “That’s enough of that now. Tell me about the boy. How he looked from the window when you saw him last. He always was such a handsome lad.”

  Katherine suppressed a grin at the thought of that dark, forbidding man being such an object of fondness to an old lady. But she said nothing since help must be taken where it was found. So she spoke endlessly of him and how it might have been had they truly loved each other and, in the telling, found that some of her own hatred and pain was diminishing. The words were naturally embellished for Lady Sarah and shaped to the pattern of a chivalry far past but Katherine found herself wanting to believe in love and truth, the honor of knighthood and the pride of courage. Sometimes she longed for Lady Dorotea with whom she had been unflaggingly honest; until the end when it had not been possible.

  As much as possible, Katherine remained aloof associating only with those of her own rank until she knew with what situations she dealt. Lady Sarah was the only such for Katherine marked Frances as the enemy. On hearing of the child, Frances had remarked that no time had been lost. Katherine had commanded that John send a messenger to find James and inform him of the time of the coming of the expected heir. A message had seemed to flow between John and his wife at this but Katherine spared little time for conjecture. Her orders were given.

  When she was fully established as lady of the castle and absolute mistress, for such she meant to be, Katherine would choose several companions from among the women to be chamber ladies with whom she could do needlework, and chat, and perhaps read. Now, however, her mind hungered for such exchange as she had had with Antony and, later, with Lady Dorotea. She worked and cleaned as best she could in the room she had taken as her own, and that of James should he return. Her tongue was often busy as she rounded on those to whom she gave orders, sparing neither feelings nor spirits, but her kindness was often felt as well, and her condition was taken as the reason.

  Weeks passed and there was no word from James. They were effectively isolated from the outside world and Katherine grew restless as she knew he had meant that she should. One afternoon she and Lady Sarah walked in the solar as best they might for the fine rains had begun to fall once more. By this time her stomach was faintly rounded and her body had begun to fill out. Her cheeks were brighter for the hollows had left them and the sheen of her hair was more lustrous. It was time to broach the subject of the future.

  “Soon my few gowns will no longer fit. I have several lengths of material brought from York which can be made up. My skill with the needle is naught but if directed I can use it. Can you help me?”

  As always, pleased when her advice was asked, Lady Sarah told her that several out of date gowns and a warm shawl had been packed away some years ago when a visitor had left them and never asked for their return. “I am sure there are women hereabouts who weave. We will have them make garments and we ourselves will sew for the babe.”

  Katherine laughed. “I am mortally weary of these clothes but I am even more weary of the lack of reading materials. Are there none here?”

  “James was wrong to treat his wife so.” Lady Sarah so seldom voiced a critical remark that Katherine was amazed. She could not answer.

  “It is cruel. By now he knows of the child.”

  “He is in battle with the Scots.” Katherine was annoyed at having to defend James with whom she was furious all over again. “Surely there are some books in the castle?”

  “No, only the priest reads and he very little, enough only for the sermon of a Sunday. I have none such nor do I miss it for my dreams are enough. Katherine . ..” She hesitated.

  “Yes?”

  “What might it be like for you and the child in the years to come? I know that you and James did not love each other when you were wed. Your tales are of attraction and anger. He may never come but only send for the boy. It has happened before.”

  Katherine was surprised that she had not wholly fooled Lady Sarah but she would not drop her guard. She was grateful for the warning that resignation should be learned. It was not a thing that she intended to heed.

  “Then we will work with what we have. Four of the women shall be chosen to wait on me. They must be teachable if not literate, for that cannot be expected. I know several languages and will instruct them so that we may converse. They shall be taught to read and write. They in turn will teach me of folklore, the countryside and of their traditions. You will tell us of the old days and the chivalry. My father went on crusade and told me much of far lands. We shall share and learn of each other. So shall the gap be breached.”

  They had never discussed Katherine’s family for Lady Sarah sensed a hurt there and did not pry. Now she said, “You are wise, Katherine. Questions will be asked but we can turn them aside, that is one of the privileges of rank. Let me select some suitable persons subject to your final decision. There will be less grumbling that way.”

  The ladies included Frances of necessity; one of the men-at-arms’ wife, Matilda, born of the North but kind and good company; Alison, the maid from York; and a young widow named Elsa whose husband had been killed fighting the Scots two years ago. All were to some degree literate and possessed some talent for miming, singing, needlework and lively conversation. They were with Katherine and Lady Sarah daily and a kind of camaraderie grew up. Frances lost some of her animosity and her pointed remarks were less so as time went on. Katherine would never like her but she ceased to command and found that life was much smoother.

  The days soon assumed a pattern. In the mornings they inspected the castle chambers and the living areas, then sewed and mended as was necessary. No time was taken for fancy work for there was neither material nor thread for such. Then bread and ale was quickly taken, and prayers were read in the chapel by the aged priest whose mind wandered so that he repeated himself frequently. They walked on the path near the castle in the afternoon, then gathered for songs and stories. Then there were lessons for those who wished to learn their letters. The final meal of the day was taken at what passed for the high table, consisting of Katherine and Lady Sarah above the salt and all others below. The great hall had been cleaned, the banners refurbished as best they could. A young boy sang passably well and juggled. He was given the task of nightly entertainment and, with the help of some of his friends, produced much amusement.

  The castle was more lively now and the air of grim desertion was leaving it. Katherine was everywhere for she would tolerate no slackness and was obeyed, for she stood as James himself to those who served him. She was lonely much of the time but she had been that for the greater part of her life. The child was not real to her other than the payment for her freedom. When she walked among the castle inhabitants she knew that they saw the continuing generations, not she herself, and in spite of logic she was angered.

  Katherine soon found that she loved the walks on the moor best. The soft sun touched her face with warmth and the grass bent forward as she moved over it in the clear light. She often felt as if she could fly and would turn round and round with her arms flung out in abandon. She could hardly believe that she was to bear a child and found the vigor of her health exciting. Her breasts grew taut and pressed against her bodice. In the nights she touched her body and relived the pain-pleasure of James. Her sleep was long and deep, she rose with eagerness for all the new days.

  By her own reckoning, Katherine was entering her third month of pregnancy and with it the coming end of summer as it was known in the north. Restlessness c
ame over her now and she walked more freely on the moors. Only Lady Sarah dared protest and with her she pleaded the need for air and exercise knowing that it was put down as a whim that must be tolerated for the sake of the heir. Sometimes John Redgrove met her returning. Then Katherine would dismiss the maid who accompanied her and she would talk with John who proved to be a good companion. She did not trust him, and often surprised him, but they were yet friends in a way that Frances could not understand. Once she spoke jeeringly of Katherine to her husband and was unpleasantly shocked at the anger he turned on her. Her jealousy smoldered as she waited.

  It was through John that Katherine learned something of her husband’s background as he spoke of assaults on Scotland, travels into Burgundy, France and Italy. He spoke too of Edward’s respect for James but it was Richard of Gloucester whose opinion was most highly prized.

  “The Duke has said that Lord Hunsdale is one of his best soldiers, none better in the fray and certainly none more loyal. He holds loyalty highly, does the Duke.”

  Katherine remembered the penetrating gaze, the careful weighing of her name, and the happenstance that had saved her. “I warrant James is well pleased to be so highly praised.”

  “He has enemies, Lady, but what high lord has not? You may count yourself fortunate to be wed to such a man.”

  “Was the message sent to him about the child? There has been no acknowledgement.”

  John faced her. “The messenger was instructed to give it into his own hands. He will do it. You need not fear.”

  With that Katherine was forced to be content.

  One morning about a week later Katherine awoke with the restlessness upon her and a vague ache in her back. Hurriedly, she threw on an old gown that was already tight, left her hair free, summoned Alison from her bed, and with an attendant soldier went out on the moor and toward the distant rocks.

  The air was cool and fresh. A breeze ruffled the grass as she moved and swayed in an ever quickening pace. Katherine walked until she grew tired for she found the pace exhilarating. Her companions were left behind and she was content to have it so. She came to the top of a gentle rise which sloped into a valley. Close by some bushes glimmered silver as the wind turned the leaves back. Her dress blew out behind her and tickled her bare legs. A sudden wild happiness touched Katherine, she lifted both arms and ran madly down the hill, laughing as she did so. Her arms swung and her knees lifted, she ran exuberantly as a child would do. Suddenly as she neared the bottom, her foot slipped on a smooth stone and the momentum carried her forward so that she fell heavily on her stomach and face in a patch of shale. The breath was knocked completely out of her and she could not even cry out.

  Darkness spun over her as she lay stunned, then she tried to lift the body that had been so light only a moment before but found that she could not. She called out faintly but Alison and the soldier were far back engaging in a flirtation or dalliance and could not hear. Time stood still as she lay back too weary even to call out. Her stomach began to cramp and her ankle throbbed. Her throat was so dry that she could not swallow and the sun beat down harder.

  Katherine finally summoned the energy to pull herself to a sitting position. She seemed completely alone in the stillness of rock and moor. No bird called, nothing broke the silence, yet she felt in her pain that part of the waiting was ended, that the strangeness was completed. The resulting fright enabled her to call out once more in a rush of sound that was a scream.

  They came then on the run, down the rise as she had done, only their feet were sure and steady. The soldier lifted Katherine in both arms, holding her carefully and wrapping Alison’s smudged mantle around her throbbing body. She looked at the girl who was in tears and frantic with apology.

  “My lady, my lady. Please, we did not mean to leave you. You must be all right, you must. Forgive us!”

  Katherine tried to speak but words were too much. She was soon beyond all concerns save those for herself and the child. They carried her back to the great house and she was put to bed by an agonized Lady Sarah who forebore to comment. She was tended by the maidservants and the hastily called midwife. Prayers, pleas and incantations failed. The cramps and nausea began in earnest then and, though her body fought to hold the child, Katherine miscarried some twenty-four hours after the accident.

  Lady Sarah cried unashamedly but Katherine was conscious only of relief that the racking pain was gone. A voice in her head hammered. “All to do over again and again until the heir is produced. And James does not even come. I am trapped, trapped!” At that she dug her fingers in her hair and began to toss back and forth. The midwife hurried forward with a posset which she held to the dry lips. Hungrily Katherine swallowed and knew no more.

  Katherine was young and healthy. Within a week her appetite had returned and she was able to walk about freely with no discomfort. Only the dull refrain in her mind continued.

  One afternoon she was sitting near the brazier in her room and combing her hair which she had just had washed when Lady Sarah entered. Settling herself on the nearest stool, she said,

  “It was such a pity about the child. Now that is all to do over again. Still, that is the way of women. You must be more careful next time.”

  “Next time!”

  Thinking that she longed for James, Lady Sarah laid a warm hand on her shoulder. “Men must think first of battle and duty. You know that.”

  Katherine was still weak and her emotions were all on the surface or she would have been more watchful of her words. “I did not want the child except as the price of my freedom from your knight who could not care if any of us live or die! I did not love it. I will not endure this again, I will not. I hate him, I do.”

  Lady Sarah put her hand over Katherine’s lips. “Hush. Such talk will make you ill. Hush, now. You must rest.”

  Katherine wrenched free and stood back. Her slender body in the loose gown shook with the violence of her emotion but her voice was hard and left no room for doubt. “I hope I never see James of Hunsdale again. I hope that he meets a fate deserving of his cruelty to those who bear his name. I wish that for him.”

  Lady Sarah drew herself up and moved regally to the door, shutting it with care. Katherine sat back down and began to comb her hair once more. She had spoken no more than the truth and it was a relief to have it out.

  The air was very cold between the two after that and Katherine knew that she had lost a valuable ally. The appearances of cordiality were maintained but the rift was very apparent. Much of the camaraderie of her women had departed also for Katherine’s outburst was public knowledge. Nothing was private in the castle and she had voiced the unpardonable. Women were placed on earth to bear children and to obey their lords. If the nobles did not uphold the order of things the whole fabric of society would tear.

  Frances was loud in pursuit of this view, often in Katherine’s hearing, but she was ignored. John had seen the eagerness in his mistress’ eyes when he spoke of James and the hastily veiled longing with which she introduced the topic. He bent over Frances one day and spoke in her ear with such intensity that she turned white. From that time on she walked far from Katherine and said little, but her hatred burned deep.

  Katherine was grateful to John but she was steeped in numbness. It had been good to raise her voice and shout her innermost feelings but it began to seem that she had sacrificed all her gains. She increased her duties as chatelaine and spared nothing that all might work, those who were learning their letters might continue. Loneliness was again her daily fare but this time it was without hope.

  Chapter 15

  Devil Call

  One morning Katherine sat with a book in the sunlight in the little garden that some long ago chatelaine had planted. She knew this particular tale of Troy nearly by heart but the lives of the saints bored her and courtly love was merely irritating. For all her efforts at stimulation, she knew that her mind was growing fixed. The combination of no books and no one with whom to exchange ideas was one Katheri
ne found barely endurable. She recalled conversations with Antony and made new answers to them but the vision of the years to come rose in her with rebellion.

  Now she rose and went to walk on the battlements where the ever watchful soldiers moved. She was pleased to see John coming toward her, his hand raised in greeting.

  “Is there news as yet of the battles with the Scots?”

  John answered, “None, but it is ever thus. We wait and watch.”

  “Surely there is little danger. I have heard of the wars with the Scots all my life.”

  “There is always danger. We have been at war with them for years. These battles are no summer pastime but a necessary part of our country’s defense.”

  Katherine was not interested in war or past battles. She switched the subject. “Does James evince a strong desire for an heir?”

  “A man in his position must have one, lady. His lands are too great. Should he die or become incompetent it would be necessary to divide them and that would cause much jealousy among the other lords. It is better when the line is clear. Only last year the king spoke at length to him on this matter.”

  Katherine said, “That was when he came north, I suppose. I doubt that the king would consider me suitable. He thought my father an enemy. Perhaps he was right.” The old mystery inflamed her curiosity once more and Antony’s pain had never left her.

  John put out a cautious hand. “Lady Katherine, it has ever been that the friends of kings have enemies. Yours was a noble name, well worthy to mate with that of Hunsdale. Forgive my presumption, but he will come in time to see you as his wife and not as something which was forced upon him.”