by Anne Carsley
His low laugh made her realize what she had said. “It will not come to that.” Then his ardent hands lifted her to their mutual will.
Outside in the streets the time that was to shake all England had already begun.
Chapter 28
Time of Decision
James was often absent in the days that followed but Katherine was more content that she had ever been before in their relationship. He had trebled the guards around the house because of the public and private menace in the air, and the servants were checked down to the smallest lad who scrubbed in the kitchen. They had not spoken of the great matter again but both were conscious of sharing an understanding and warmth lay between them because of it.
As June became July Katherine spent much of her time in the rose garden or sitting beside the river watching summer press closely on the land. It was a suspended time and she drifted with it. Roger was often gone about his family business but when he was free, they, with the guards, would go into the London streets which were now filled with lords, knights, common folk, and clergy. The city simmered with excitement. James would be gone for days at a time as he moved from council meeting to council meeting and, on his return, would toss himself down for a few hours only.
One afternoon Katherine carried a book down to one of her favorite seats in a small copse by the river. Bees hummed nearby and birds sang accompanied by the flowing water. The stillness pressed down on her and she grew drowsy as she slid low in the grass. Suddenly there was a movement near her and James sat down at her side. His skin was splotchy and his hands shook.
“The Protector has gone mad, that is all I can think. He cried treason and witchcraft at this morning’s meeting in the Tower. Lord Hastings was summarily beheaded with bare time given to make his peace with God. Others have been imprisoned as well. This talk of witchcraft is apparently taken seriously!”
Katherine’s one thought was to reassure him. “There are those who take it very seriously, James. You know all the stories that circulated about the Queen.”
“That is mummery, this is reality. She is in sanctuary still, her relatives dispersed, the sentence of death against her brother will now be carried out, I think.” He put his head in his hands and began to speak as though to himself. “I had thought him a rational, temperate, reasoning man, but this ...”
“Have you and the others spoken to him of your suspicions with regard to Edward’s pre-contract?”
“Not officially, though he has several times been closeted with the Bishop of Bath who has met often with us.”
James stared out at the smooth sweep of river without seeing it. He took his dagger out of its sheath and rammed it again and yet again into the soft ground. “I cannot understand Gloucester these days. Taciturn he has always been and then, today, even accusing Edward’s mistress!”
Katherine bent toward him and put a cautious hand on the springy hair. “He is but a man, culpable as are all men. Perhaps he, too, wrestles with conscience and ambition.”
James looked at her, a faraway, dreaming look and his voice grew soft. “I thank you for the comfort you seek to give me, Lady.” He bent toward her, seeing her clearly for the first time in many weeks. The supple, rounded body, full bosom, hair lightened by the sun, face faintly tanned as always, the green eyes huge in the dim light of the copse. He touched her and she swayed toward him. Since the night that she had commanded his passion and he had yielded to her, some of the anger had gone from their relationship and they were easier with each other. Katherine was wise enough to know that this was due, at least in part, to the great problems with which he grappled. He had never come to her the way another man might seek out his wife in time of strain and confusion.
James put both arms around her and his lips touched hers. They fused together in the hunger that was never far from them. His hands were quick and practiced on her body but there was none of the pain that had seemed to be present in their every encounter. They slipped back into the soft grass as the warm winds brushed over them. James now seemed concerned for the giving of pleasure, as well as the taking, as he thrust deeply into her, gratified by her slender arching body and inarticulate cries. For her part, Katherine clung to him eagerly, matching his ardor with all her pent-up emotion.
Their bodies moved and writhed together as he thrust deeply, richly, the familiar rhythm growing sweeter. He cupped her face in both hands, delighting in the hunger for him that he read there. Katherine found that his pleasure lifted her own. Then there was no more time for thought until they lay, spent, in peace.
Too soon their communion was done and James was sitting up, brushing the grassy particles from his clothes, giving her a hand to rise.
"You have given me heart, wife.” The face turned toward her was grave but the shock was gone from it.
She said, “Jamie, be careful. I fear for you.”
Site felt him withdraw. “We are having important guests this night. Among them will be the worthy bishop. The time is near and choices must be made.” She said, “If I can help, you have but to ask.”
"Make yourself fair. I do my duty as you must do yours.”
Katherine bent her head, knowing his thoughts were far from her. “As you will, my lord.”
She watched him stride away, his mind already on the great affairs of which he was at the very heart. Ruefully, she thought that now she was a combination comrade and solacer, a foil for the sardonic give and take that still characterized their relationship, a wench to be bedded, and now a compatriot in treason. It did not really matter; he was the center of her life though she was but a corner of his. Katherine knew herself. She had a sudden rush of longing for the old days when she was proud Katherine Hartley, a true person in her own right. But then she laughed as she thought once more of the eager breath in her ear, the stabbing delight of his body, and greater than all else, the fact that for the first time, James had come to her, his wife. There was sweetness in that thought. She knew that this time was dearest to her because it was truly shared in spirit as well as body. She ran lightly over the grass toward the house, singing as she went.
The watcher in the boat nearby hastily swallowed the remains of his bread and cheese, made several notes on a ragged piece of parchment as to time and movement, then paddled silently away as his replacement came drifting downstream.
That afternoon Katherine called for the maids and Lucy to make her fair. In the midst of the rushing about for pans of water, scent, cloths with which to dry her, gowns to be shaken out, and flowers for hair and table, Lucy Welmon took time to speak her mind with all the freedom accorded a trusted retainer of the family.
“It is surely not my place to say it, Lady Katherine, but someone must. You are always dashing about, riding the horses, going into the city, moving so fast in all this activity, even sitting in the sun. How is that going to help you make a babe, an heir for his Lordship? Wed nigh on a year and no son! Joan, the midwife, says...”
Katherine held up an exhausted hand. She wanted nothing so much as a nap in the cool bower of her room before the rush and bustle began again. “Lucy, Lucy, have done. I know you mean well but some things must be between my lord and myself. No more of this.” Was she, Katherine, not to be valued in herself?
The guests who sat that night at Lord Hunsdale’s table commented on his hospitality and the charm of his wife who was radiant in green satin and velvet, roses in her hair. He himself was grave and quiet, a man with weighty matters on his mind. There were ten men in all and they were anxious to be done so that they might confer yet again as they had done only a day earlier. This was the first time that any had met Katherine and she saw that none knew the part she played in this seemingly endless coil.
It was very late when Katherine, James, and Robert Stillington, the bishop, sat in the library where the windows were open to the warm night air, heavy with the scent of flowers. The others had gone their ways only a little earlier, leaving one by one without talk.
James said, “Ther
e is grave news, Katherine. I will let the bishop tell you.”
She lifted her eyes to the tall clergyman who said baldly, “It is all true, there was a pre-contract, proven beyond all doubt. Years ago it was whispered but it was deliberately quelled. The Duke of Clarence, Edward's brother, had proof and sought to make the knowledge public for then he was next in line. He was a traitor many times over and died for it, on the King’s order, we are sure.”
"His own brother!” Katherine had known of Clarence's death as did the whole kingdom but this brought it too close.
"Aye, Madam. He believed he could do no less and held out for death against even Gloucester whom he loved. Antony Hartley was very close to King Edward and he came into possession of this knowledge and the proof of it. They quarreled over some trivial thing, the Queen saw her place threatened and took steps. Others, too, had died for less. Antony was lucky to be banished with his life.”
Katherine remembered her father as he lay twisted in pain and thought he might have preferred death.
James added, “There were many such stories over the years but they were never taken seriously for Edward loved the ladies extremely well. The attempts on your life were fomented by the Woodville Queen who thought you knew what you did not.”
Katherine could not hold back the bitterness, and begun to tremble.
James took both her hands in his for he saw her pain.
“Edward loved your father, Katherine, but he was the King of this land and there was much at stake. The succession was settled, peace assured . . He put a hand under her chin and lifted it. “There was an expense in his private account books, ‘For the guard to Antony Hartley and his daughter, paid quarterly from early 1480 and ending in April of last year.’ ”
“What does that mean?”
“Apparently, Edward saw that you were secretly protected.”
Bishop Stillington shifted impatiently in his chair. The hour was very late and he had much to do on the morrow. He said, “Edward took care that your father was not to be killed, Lady Katherine. He was guarded against those who might seek this; especially against the Queen, who had had others killed.”
James said, “He could not do very much, but what he could do, he did. Antony was his friend.”
Katherine laughed, “Right glad I am that I was not. James, you suffered also at his hands.” Her jangled nerves threatened to give way.
“We cannot judge Edward, we can only strive to right the wrong done. I meet with the Lord Protector in the morning.” Bishop Stillington smoothed his beard with the air of one who has done a job well.
“The Queen thought I had this knowledge and would tell you. Did she not know it would emerge after Edward’s death?” Katherine was still trying to put the puzzle together.
“That is why she is in sanctuary.” James, too, was weary.
Stillington was reflective as he said with more honesty and humility than James had ever seen in him, “I pray that we do what is right. We cannot know, yet in the long run our vindication must be that what we do, we do for England’s sake, that folk may live in peace.” Katherine laughed, the sound ripping in the room. "That was Edward’s excuse for what he did to my father, I suppose.” Her control was growing thin.
James said, “What of Gloucester this morning? All that talk of witchcraft?”
The Bishop looked at Katherine’s white face and hands as he turned thankfully toward the door. “He knows much of what I will say to him. He, too, has much to bear.”
James saw him to the door, knowing that the future would take its course, they had done what they must. Katherine was near hysteria, with the delayed reaction of years. He found wine and forced it down her throat, then sat with her in his arms while she talked in a rambling, incoherent manner. The darkness had faded and the new day dawned with the flood of words, bitterness and tears were at an end. She slept in more peace than she had known for years while, James, unmoving lest he disturb her, nodded also.
Katherine awoke later in her own room but she did not forget the strong arms that had cradled her, nor the soft voice that had said, as to a child, “Hush, now. I am here. There is no need to fear. I know you did not plot to wed me. Hush now, Kate.” This was new and it added to her passion.
James was gone when she rose and she found that orders had been given for her to remain in the house until his return. Guards patrolled constantly outside, she was uneasy and nothing held her attention for long. She could only wait.
It was the afternoon of the third day before he relumed, haggard and worn, circles deep under his eyes. Roger, far less debonair than usual, had been there for several hours that morning. Now he brought James some wine to the chair where he had half fallen from weariness.
James half whispered, “All will be well. Take her into the city, if you wish, Roger. Dress as the folk and report to me after.” He sipped at the wine, set it down and slept where he sat.
As they rode out, Roger told her that the youngest prince had been taken from Sanctuary by orders of the Protector. “It was said that a child so young had no need of such. The Queen’s brother has been executed for treason and a sermon was preached at Paul’s Cross only this morning stating that ‘Bastard slips shall not take root.’ These are fascinating times, Katherine.” Katherine murmured, “Gloucester will take the crown from his nephew and call him bastard. What of the boys? What kind of life will they lead now?”
Roger put a hand over hers and said, “James Hunsdale is many things but honest he ever was. The weight of the evidence is overwhelming. The agony your father endured was multiplied that the secret might be kept. Now justice will be done.”
Katherine did not truly know how she felt but this great press of events was bringing her closer to the man she loved and she was alive in a way that she had never been before. She smiled and the sunlight shone on her eager face. She said, “These are truly exciting times, Roger!”
He laughed with her. “Aye, lady, and we are in the very thick of it all.”
They paused for refreshment at a tavern and were immediately caught up in the swirl of comments and discussion. London was never a city to hold its tongue as many a king had found to his sorrow. Apparently the wealthy as well as commoners frequented this tavern for the cries seemed to represent every class. Katherine, her hood well over her hair, sat with Roger in the corner to watch and listen. Neither saw the silent young man who had followed them in and who now sat nearby, not drinking.
“The great will change the truth as it suits them.”
“When the crowning was postponed again just the other day, I said then that no good would come of it.”
“Who knows the mind of the Lord Protector?”
At this last call, a tall grizzled soldier stood up and towered over the speaker, “Had you ever served with him instead of within city walls, you would know that he is a strong warrior, a brave man well equipped to rule this land.”
A little merchant said into the stillness, “But what of the Queen, I mean of course, Lady Grey and her daughters still in Sanctuary?”
The soldier said, “Who has ever known less than fairness from Richard of Gloucester?”
That was so undeniably true that arguments began as to who had actually known the King’s brother in the days when he was only that. Katherine and Roger exchanged smiles; and again she recalled Richard’s kindness.
A fat man bawled from his post near the door, “Aye, but our late King Edward was a man to love! I mind me how he used to stand right here in this very tavern, so tall you knew in an instant who he was, legs wide apart, a brave jest on his lips.”
“And an eye on the ladies!”
There was a great commotion then as one of the drunker of the commentators raised his tankard in a toast, “To our late sovereign lord, King Edward!”
The tavern rose to a man to join in the heartfelt tribute. Katherine was crying unashamedly for the bitterness was gone at last. The past would lie as it might.
Edward and Antony had pursu
ed the only courses they might have taken and still have remained themselves. In the end, there had been friendship and for that she must always be grateful. In this new fashioned world there would be a place for those with courage and honor. Katherine let the past go as she raised her voice with the others in a final tribute to it.
Chapter 29
Richard, By Grace of God, King
James was preparing to go out when they returned but he gave them fair and civil greeting. After they had told him all that had transpired, he said, “The lords will assemble now and we intend to ask Gloucester to take the crown as is his right. I will return when I can.’
He touched Roger’s shoulder, kissed Katherine’s hand, and went out the door, the summer sun full on his confident face and proud bearing.
Roger said thoughtfully, “He is more gentle than I have seen him in years. The savagery is leaving him, I think. Is it that you are domesticating him?” His grin was teasing.
“Who can tame the hawk? Nor would I have it so.” Katherine knew that she spoke the simple truth. When matters of state were settled, she would try to work out a new life with James. Or without him, cried her heart in warning.
"I think in time you two will find that you are well matched.”
She went over to the laid out chess board. “Enough of serious matters. Come, I think I can beat you now.” Life took a normal course for the next few days. There was gossip in plenty but no real news. Roger and Katherine spent much time together playing at bowls or chess, floating on the river or in the garden reading. When she voiced her impatience or fear, he was always ready with a quip or an outrageous remark. More than ever, she came to value his dear friendship.
They returned from the river bank late one afternoon just as dusk was falling and saw James standing in the library door. He was happy as Katherine had never seen him and this time the light reached his gray eyes.
“It is done. Richard is proclaimed by right and will of the people. A mighty Te Deum has been sung. He will rule, as he has said, by merit and good works.” Katherine stared at Roger. The succession had been changed.