This Ravished Rose

by Anne Carsley

  “You fought for the marriage then, Katherine. It was not wholly for my sake.”

  “So did Gloucester say.”

  “I remember his coming as through a haze. He spoke of the battles we had fought together and of his family. I tried to answer but could not. Then he said a strange thing, Katherine. I have never heard him speak so. It was of you.”

  James frowned as if trying to get the words exact. Katherine waited, a chill sliding along her arms, weariness keeping her still and quiet.

  “I have it. He said, ‘I would I could ever command such loyalty as your wife has given you, it is not whole-hearted but it is clear-seeing. In the breach I would trust her with my life.’ ”

  Katherine stared at him, tears suddenly prickling her eyes but her tone was light, “The words are chivalrous and kind. I think we owe him much, James. It was due to his influence that you were given time to recover.”

  James sighed and stretched. “You fought to remain my wife and I do not blame you that you fought for yourself as well as for me. You conspired to become my wife, well, let it be so.”

  Katherine fought to repress the angry words that rose. She knew that she must not excite him. But his voice was calm, a bit tired, he was not angry.

  “James, do not weary yourself. All this can wait for another day.”

  “I would clarify matters, Katherine. Then we need not speak further of this. But you are right. We will speak on the morrow when my mind is clearer.”

  The next day was spent in consultation with Brother Martin and Sir Anselm, both of whom hastened to reassure Katherine that James was making rapid progress. It was likely, they agreed, that the trance-like state had simply been because of the severe wound and a recurrence need not be feared. The normal patterns of life should be resumed as soon as possible.

  Sir Anselm added, “I have suggested a long rest at Hunsdale Castle with removal there as soon as the roads are more passable. I have promised to make a full report to the King and obtain his permission for the leave.”

  Katherine voiced her constant concern. “Will he penalize us for the marriage or take action because of it?”

  Her friend smiled as he poured himself a cup of wine. “I mentioned to the worthy deputation that you might be with child. That, the patronage of Gloucester who is high in favor, and the fact that the marriage is long accomplished along with James revealing more strength daily, will be enough to stay Edward’s hand. I, however, am thinking of traveling. Italy, perhaps.” He parted with Katherine warmly, a little wistfully.

  Katherine kept to herself the conviction that James himself would decide to petition the church to annul the marriage. She had lived with this for so long that now she began to doubt she would ever know security again.

  Her relationship with James continued polite and casual. Neither had said anything more for both were content to let matters order themselves and he tired easily, though less as the days went on.

  Katherine awoke several mornings after her discussion with Sir Anselm to the clatter and banging of furniture being shifted and bags packed. When the maid brought her morning ale, she said,

  “What is the noise about? You will wake Lord James.”

  The girl was newly acquainted with the matters of the great for she had just moved up in the household hierarchy. “Madam, he has given orders. He has been up these many hours doing so. Did you not know?” “Know?” She was unwontedly sharp.

  “To leave for the North within the week.”

  Katherine jumped from the bed, wrapped her furred and velvet robe about her naked body, and ran to James’s room, diplomacy forgotten. He was bent over a section of parchment writing. Her slam of the door caused the pen to slip and mar it. He looked up with an exclamation, then gave her a wary look.

  “I see the noise woke you. I am sorry.”

  She gritted her teeth. She could ill afford to lose her temper now and alienate him. “Why do you wish to leave so soon?” Rapidly she sketched the plan Sir Anselm had outlined to her and saw the frown on her husband’s face grow darker.

  “I will fight my own battles, Katherine.”

  “But you are not yet fully restored.”

  James crossed to her and put both hands on her shoulders. His touch sent fire coursing through her. “I will inform the King that we leave for Hunsdale. There is no cause for alarm in that.”

  “James, be reasonable.” Katherine saw then that she had gone too far.

  “You have been the image of the goodwife, my lady, none could fault you, but you shall not dictate in this household. You shall obey me, is that quite clear?” His voice did not rise but it was freezing cold as his fingers fell from her.

  She nodded and stood where he left her.

  “Further, I find it hard to credit all that you have told me of the fury that I expended toward you. I need an heir, you need security. We can benefit each other. Give me a son and you shall never want. In time we can go our separate ways and as long as you are discreet I will have no questions.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “Surely I am speaking plainly? I cannot love you . . .” He stopped and put both hands to his head. “It will not happen again with me, no woman...” Katherine came close but did not touch him and it was as well that she did not for he rounded on her again.

  “I still lose my thoughts. That will pass. Do you agree to the terms?”

  It took every ounce of courage and poise that Katherine possessed to look at the man she loved, standing there cold and reasonable, driving a bargain as though they were in a market. But she lifted her hand and placed it in his. Her voice did not shake as she said, “Done, my lord.”

  She started from the room, hoping that she could restrain the threatening tears. He called her name and she swung back, blinking them away.

  “I sent a message of condolence on the loss of the child. Did you receive it?”

  “No, but I thank you for your concern.”

  Was this the way it was to be from now on? Polite words and cold glances? The child conceived in passion and lost in pain, was it no more than a courtly sentence without emotion? Katherine staggered under the weight of her questions as she looked at James, but he smiled briefly and turned back to his letters. In the moment that she stood irresolute, there in her bedgown and bare feet, all but dismissed by her husband, there was a great hammering on the door, then Lucy threw it open.

  “Madam, Sir, a messenger from King Edward is below. He demands to see you, Lord James.”

  James strode from the room, Katherine behind him. Who cared for her appearance now in the moment when they might all be hauled away to prison? The gorgeously appareled messenger ablaze with the arms of England evinced no curiosity or disdain at the sight of Lord Hunsdale and his lady. He bowed and intoned, “His Grace, King Edward rejoices that Lord James is recovering his health and wishes to invite him and Lady Hunsdale to Westminster Palace one week from this night for presentation to Queen Elizabeth. The invitation cannot be refused. His Grace further bids me say that he honors you greatly who have been so grievously wounded in his service.”

  “Their Graces do us much honor and I thank them. We will come.”

  Katherine and James stared at each other in wonder and awe, then he caught her up in a hug that left her breathless. They began to laugh together then, caught in the embrace of comrades who had endured much.

  Chapter 21

  The Sun in Splendor

  The week sped past in a whirl of days. Katherine gave up to good sense and delighted in the excitement of preparation and expectation. Gowns were tried on and discarded, materials brought, styles considered and rejected. Katherine was ruthlessly subjected to washing, combing, and soaking as her hair and skin came under scrutiny. Paste for her lips, dark powder for her brows, potions for the whitening of the skin of the face; nothing was left to chance.

  James retreated from the barrage of femininity and barricaded himself in his study from which he issued only with growls and surly looks
. Food was brought to him often but remained uneaten. The joyous sharing of the day of the invitation did not return.

  Lucy was comforting. “It is the way of men, my lady. He fears lest you should ask his advice, yet he would not have you other than fair before the court.”

  Never before in her life had appearance been considered so important, never had Katherine been so conscious of the laborious etiquette of the court. She dipped and swayed in the dances that had to be learned perfectly, bent in graceful curtsies, practiced the proper manner for entering and leaving the presence of the king. All this was under the tutelage of a precise young man whom James had borrowed from a lady he had once known, and presented to Katherine as “Master Adrian, who will instruct you in the manners of the court.” For a time it was pleasurable but soon Katherine grew weary of “Hold your head high, my lady, then bend it submissively as you sink down,” or “Do not look directly at their graces as you curtsey, it will be thought bold,” or “Swing the train of the dress behind you as you move so that it flows.”

  “This is nonsense. I feel a very fool,” she raged to James on one of the few occasions they happened to meet. “We are not on display.”

  “There you are wrong, Madam. Be sure that the court knows our tale and has revived your father’s. It is a savage, dangerous place which yet has all the fascination of an enchanting game. Any advantage we can have will be helpful and, you must admit, you have not been reared in a palace.”

  Why did he persist in calling her “Madam”? Did he not know her name? “No, nor had need of dissembling, either.” It was a mild retort but she could not be angry for her blood was alive once more with his very nearness, though he gave no sign that he noticed.

  On the appointed day, Katherine was roused early as work began. Her hair was combed, polished, and set artfully back from her forehead under a court headdress which shimmered with small emeralds and pearls. The finest veil hung from it. Her eyes reflected the green of the jewels and sparkled as they did. Her gown was of green velvet and silk, folded back from cloth of gold to show the full breasts and supple waist.

  Around her neck hung a single emerald, ordered only the day before and reputed to be one of the most excellent the jeweler had seen. Attempts to bleach all of the faint tan from her face had been useless but it matched the freshness of her costume and her skin shimmered with light. She wore shoes of the finest leather, embroidered and seeded with pearls. Apprehension lent gravity to her bearing and composed the features which had become rounded with good food. Her fingers were bare of the customary rings for they were long and tapering, the nails polished to a luster.

  They were to arrive in the early afternoon at the court, the palace of Westminster and the King’s own barge would call for them. Now Katherine stood and surveyed her husband who looked more than ever the hawk of prey, dressed as he was in black relieved only with slashes of silver and white fur. His wheat-blond hair contrasted vividly with the black of his tunic and his hard gray eyes. His skin appeared darker than it normally did and his face was still graven with lines.

  “Well met, my Lady Katherine. You are fair.” He spoke without smiling as he swept her a court bow.

  “And you, Lord James.” The curtsey was flawless, her eyes traveled the prescribed arc and came to rest on his face.

  The call of the boatman came then and Katherine was lifted to her feet as James slid a hand under her elbow. “Courage, lady mine,” and their lips fused in a passionate kiss that made him hold her willing body close to his clamoring one. As the servant hammered once more on the door, Katherine drew back and smiled, her face plain for him to see. He put her from him gravely but his eyes were alight in the way they had not been since the days in York before he knew her as Lady Dorotea’s protege.

  They came from the great barge, which was lavishly decorated and bore the entwined roses and suns of the King, into the King’s Stairs, through the underground passageway and into another which led to the palace itself. The trip had been exhilarating, the early February thaw had begun and the wind spoke of spring.

  Katherine and James walked for what seemed leagues through corridors of richly hung tapestries, flaring sconces, past painted glass and brilliantly dressed courtiers. Later a banquet would be laid in the great hall but now, as they entered, it was all a variegated rainbow of silk, velvet and jewels, each person more lavishly attired than the last. The scent of human bodies, massed close, hung on the air heavy with perfumes and spices. A gallery of musicians played but were hardly heard over the chatter. Nearby several ladies played a bowling game.

  At the far end of the hall, on a raised dais, in chairs of state, sat Edward Plantagenet and his Queen, Elizabeth Woodville. So rich and ornate were their clothes and jewels that at first Katherine could not distinguish their human features. The conversations around them died out as Katherine and James drew nearer. The two made a striking couple and their faces were not familiar in a court which, though large, afforded a fair degree in intimacy.

  Some few paces from the dais, they halted, and the Lord Chamberlain, Edward’s friend, Lord Hastings, spoke, “The Lord and Lady Hunsdale, Your Graces, whom you commanded before you.”

  Katherine and James knelt for what seemed an eternity, then came the voice of the King, “Rise, let me look at you.” They rose then and Katherine looked into his face. Puzzled by the intensity of her gaze, Edward stared back.

  Then in his fortieth year, King Edward still retained much of the beauty of his youth which had been so marked. He had captured the fancy of many a wife and maid, his face reflected the excesses he so enjoyed. But it purpled with exertion of any sort and there were red splotches on the fair skin. His lips were full, the eyes brilliant and hair yet golden but there were pouches and lines. His breath wheezed and his movements were slow, due to his corpulence. Now he was stem, of firm presence, with an air of command.

  Queen Elizabeth was silver blond, as sharply etched as the new moon, and as slender. Her eyes were slicing and cold, assessing. She was in gold and white, her hair strained back from the high forehead under the conical headdress. Her jewels were diamonds and rubies, her fingers bore the wealth of a small kingdom.

  The silence drew out and the courtiers were still, waiting for some new titillation. Then Edward waved a peremptory hand and they moved back, almost beyond earshot. At another glance the music and conversation resumed.

  Katherine stared at her father’s betrayer until her eyes began to burn, then she jerked her gaze away and stood with her head bent as a dutiful wife should. Master Adrian would be proud of his work, she thought, and her lips quirked.

  Then the warm genial voice was saying confidentially, “James, I am glad that you are well and growing more so. Our brother of Gloucester’s report of you was praiseworthy indeed. Welcome, my friend.”

  James smiled. “No service to you, whatever the price, is too great, my liege. I am honored by your words and those of the Duke.” He turned and took Katherine’s fingertips in his palm. “May I present my lady wife, Katherine?”

  Edward’s face darkened to purple and his breath rasped. “Ah, your wife.” He looked full at Katherine who faced him proudly. “Was it not sudden, my lord?” The silence fell once more as the Queen tensed in her chair, her maimer watchful. In the throng which had managed to press closer to the dais, the Greek merchant felt his blood move more rapidly. Might it be so easy then? Were the carefully planned schemes to come to fruition now?

  Katherine felt her heart hammering. If he chooses to repudiate me now . . . then thought ceased and she stood as if she would never move again while the words, the incredible words, washed over her.

  James was saying, “Sudden? Indeed, it was that, but you of all men living should understand for was it not so with you?” He smiled at the Queen then, a smile open and free as a child’s but with a man’s heart, warm and loving, appreciative of a fair unattainable woman.

  Elizabeth Woodville, she whom men said was calculating and fiercely formal in contrast t
o the free natured Edward, smiled back. Edward ignored Katherine, but bent to his wife,

  “Was it not so, my lady?”

  Her gaze lightened. For a moment Edward was caught up in the warm haze of memory, the beautiful despairing woman under a spreading oak tree and he in the glory of his youth. He leaned forward,

  “It is well that you are wed and time enough, too. I am not pleased with your choice but I can understand it.” His eyes rested on Katherine’s bust and waist, moved up to her face and halted. The connoisseur gave her full measure. “I know her only thought was for your health, James, but did you trust me so little?” He turned to Katherine then. “Madam, you will not meddle again. Do you understand me?” The tone was flat, the blue eyes cloudy.

  Katherine started sharply and tensed as emotion swept away the careful hold she had put on her feelings. James reached for her, but it was too late. She advanced a few steps until she was so close that she saw the beads of sweat on Edward’s face.

  “Understand, sir? I do not. What grievance do you hold against my house that my husband must suffer ignominy because of our marriage and that my father should die with your name on his lips even though you banished him and foreswore friendship. His honor does not deserve such at your hands. Tell me his fault that I may at least know?”

  Queen Elizabeth drew a sharp breath and trembled in her chair. The courtiers came closer but her swift gesture sent them scattering. The Queen’s face was as white as the fin edging on her robe. Edward stared dumbfounded at Katherine whose great eyes blazed at him. His lips moved over the word, “Antony.”

  James seized Katherine then, his hand pressed on her shoulders, his face furious as he swung her against him and then to her knees.

  “Your Grace, I crave your pardon. She is breeding and taken by fancies. We lost one child and I fear for this one. De we have your leave to retire?”