“Yes, it will have to do.”
As she tied and adjusted the dress, Jayne tried to sooth her queen’s nerves. “This was the best choice after all. You were right to reject the others. I apologize, your grace, for not thinking of this one first.”
Elizabeth sighed. “Jayne, you have a dear heart, for you know it is not your fault that my nerves are on edge. In all honesty, I am not quite sure why either.”
Jayne continued the final touches on Elizabeth’s hair while humming a hymn. She guessed that Elizabeth was nervous about meeting a woman whose beauty was as legendary as her own but was ten years younger, but she certainly was not going to voice anything of the sort.
“There. You are beautiful, your grace,” Jayne said as she took a step back to admire the product of her labors.
“Thank you,” Elizabeth then put steel into her spine, lifted her chin, and gestured for her page to go before her to the great hall.
She was so accustomed to the appreciative looks and murmurs as she entered a gathering that she took no note of them now. Taking her place at Henry’s side, she nodded to him and he signaled to one of his attendants. Within moments, a young, beautiful woman, who could be none other than Kathryn Gordon, was led into the hall. Gasps were heard throughout the hall and the murmuring rose in pitch. Elizabeth felt her cheeks go hot.
Kathryn was willowy, though she had recently born a child. The black mourning gown, that Henry had provided her with, accentuated her alabaster skin and made her red hair seem as bright as a fire at midnight. Her smooth skin was not marred by anything more than a few freckles and slight darkening under her eyes. She looked like a fragile wood sprite with its wings clipped. Her face was carefully controlled, showing no reaction to the whispering surrounding her or the queen’s careful examination.
Elizabeth was hit with the realization that lines had formed at the corners of her own eyes. She forced herself not to glance down at the waistline that had expanded slightly each year since her marriage. As she gazed down at this lovely, sad woman before her, Elizabeth experienced feelings of jealousy and envy that had never assailed her during her life as a pampered and beautiful princess. Scriptures said that there was a time for everything, and clearly her own time had passed.
Lady Kathryn curtseyed low before the king and queen, and Elizabeth looked to her husband. He was enraptured. With heat of anger and embarrassment threatening to burn her from within, Elizabeth forced herself to take a deep breath. This woman before her had lost a child and all but lost her husband. Elizabeth would not allow herself to treat her cruelly simply for the crime of being beautiful.
Once Kathryn had made humble obeisance to the king and queen and Henry had formally welcomed her to court, Elizabeth stood and approached her. Dipping into another graceful curtsey, Kathryn waited for Elizabeth to raise her up.
“Lady Gordon, I am happy to welcome you as one of my ladies in waiting.”
“I am pleased to serve you, your grace.” Kathryn’s voice was soft and put Elizabeth in mind of a songbird.
“I look forward to becoming better acquainted,” Elizabeth said as she guided the younger woman to a more private corner. “You can tell me about James, my daughter’s future husband.” She favored Kathryn with a smile that she hoped was friendly and encouraged camaraderie.
“I am sure that your daughter will be quite happy at the Scottish court, your grace.”
“Please, in private call me Elizabeth.” She patted Kathryn’s hand and decided to address head-on the wall built between them. “I understand that you have been through a horrid ordeal. I pray that you know that you may confide in me. It will earn you neither judgment nor contempt.”
Lady Gordon blinked, taken aback by the queen’s kindness. She decided to return the forthrightness with her own. “I did not expect for us to be meeting like this. My husband did not describe you this way.”
“Your husband does not know me.”
Kathryn dropped her head in shame. “Yes, I know that now.”
“You are innocent of his crimes,” Elizabeth assured her. “You will not be judged for them.”
“It is not that,” Kathryn said, raising her head so that the tears in her eyes glistened. “I still love him, despite it all. I still love him.”
She shook her head, silently berating herself for her naivety and stupidity, but Elizabeth stopped her with a hand on her cheek.
“Of course you do. What a treasure of a wife he has in you, even if his name is not the one you believed it to be, the man still is the one you married.”
The tears were released in full force now, streaming down Kathryn’s pale cheeks. Elizabeth caught Jayne’s eye before leading Kathryn from the public hall toward her own chambers. No longer jealous, Elizabeth saw not a beautiful woman, but a broken heart.
Kathryn could not believe that she was in the queen’s chambers, crying her heart out, with Elizabeth murmuring soothing words and rubbing her back. Richard, who was not Richard, had filled her head with visions of triumphant processions into London and an older sister who needed to be put in her place. Never had she considered that he would fail or that he had lied. She was still trying to get her head around the fact that this was not even his sister. Yet, she had welcomed the woman who had hoped to take her throne.
“You poor thing,” Elizabeth said after a few moments had passed. “Can I pray for you?”
This new kindness renewed Kathryn’s sobbing, but she nodded her appreciation. Elizabeth pressed a wine cup into Kathryn’s hand before kneeling before her private altar. She was unaware that Kathryn’s wine remained untouched and her eyes stayed fixed on the praying queen.
“Thank you, your grace,” Kathryn whispered when Elizabeth returned to her side. “Elizabeth,” she corrected herself, catching her encouraging smile.
“May God bless you, Kathryn. May he be with us all as this web of deception and betrayal is unraveled.”
December 1497
“He has sent my son away!”
This exclamation was filled with all the pain wrenched from Kathryn’s heart. She was sobbing as she hadn’t since the day she and Elizabeth had first met and had melted to the floor in a puddle of silk skirts. Elizabeth ran to her side.
“What is it, my dear?” She was afraid that she knew.
“Hen . . . the king. He has sent my son away. I am never to see him again.”
Elizabeth put her arm around Kathryn’s slender shoulders and begged God to give her words of comfort. She was not surprised that Henry had taken this step to remove the boy who had potential to be the center of rebellion. After all, her poor cousin, Edward, still languished in the Tower. She had given up on pleading Henry for his release and kept her requests for God’s ear alone.
“God will watch over him when you cannot,” Elizabeth whispered.
“I don’t want God to watch over him!” Kathryn shouted as she sprung to her feet. “I want to watch him! Is it not enough that my husband has been taken from me and I lost our babe before it was given breath? Must he take my son?”
Elizabeth knew that Kathryn blamed Henry, rather than God, for her losses, but she would not disparage her husband whether she believed him in the right or not.
“But you will see your husband, as Henry is releasing him and allowing him to remain at court.” She did not add that she was certain he would be under heavy guard.
“Truly?” Kathryn grabbed Elizabeth’s hands with greater strength than she would have guessed the smaller woman to possess.
“I have just received word,” Elizabeth said, happy to be able to bring some joy to the shattered woman’s life. “He has been released from the Tower. When Henry travels back to Sheen for his Christmas court, he will bring your husband with him.”
“Praise to God and all his saints,” Kathryn said in a whisper.
Elizabeth hoped that she had not raised her hopes too high.
~~~~
Christmas at Sheen was becoming one of Elizabeth’s favorite times of year
. Her children and husband would all be present, something that only happened a few times each year. She loved the smell of evergreen boughs and mistletoe, the warmth of the Yule log that would burn throughout the days of Christmas, and the smell of the savory foods that the cooks would labor over in an effort to spotlight their greatest achievements. Only one thing gave her reservation, the promised presence of Perkin Warbeck.
Elizabeth had not yet met the man who had claimed for six years that he was her younger brother. She was confident that Henry was correct in his assessment of him as a pretender, for he had been paraded in London and presented to men who had knowledge of the prince. He had recognized none of them. Though he looked enough like Edward IV to be one of his by-blows, it seemed that his greatest weapon was his charisma. How did this man, whom Henry had cursed and despised from afar for all those years, convince the king to allow him to spend Christmas with his wife at the royal court, Elizabeth wondered.
The women were in the hall when the sounds of a commotion in the courtyard alerted them of Henry’s arrival. Elizabeth had been playing cards with Jayne, but the game was forgotten as she gave orders for wine and food to be brought for the king and his men. Then Henry entered the room, speaking jovially with a man that made Elizabeth’s breath catch in her throat.
He looked like her father had looked when he was a young king, tall with copper hair and far too much confidence for a man who was supposed to be a prisoner. As they entered the hall, Warbeck’s attention toward Henry waned as his eyes swept the hall for the only person he desired to see. Kathryn ran to him and would have thrown herself into his arms if she had not perceived the look of outrage that was forming on Henry’s face. She turned from her original course and demurely curtseyed to the king.
Henry raised her up and kissed her hand before leading Warbeck to Elizabeth, leaving Kathryn looking longingly after him. For his part, Warbeck had covered his feelings as quickly as they had crossed his face, replacing desire for his wife with charm for the queen. He bowed deeply before her.
“Your grace.”
Elizabeth felt odd addressing him, no more comfortable with the name Perkin Warbeck now that it seemed to be his true one. She usually referred to him as Kathryn’s husband, but now was forced to speak, “Warbeck.”
There was an amused glint in his eye as he unbent, as if he somehow understood how difficult this was for Elizabeth. His wife had quietly fallen into rank behind the queen, and Warbeck chose to bridge the moment’s awkwardness by next speaking to her.
“My beautiful bride,” he said, bowing more deeply before her than he had the queen.
A blush rose to Kathryn’s face, making her look younger and even more desirable. “Husband,” she replied as he lingered with his lips on her palm. He could feel her blood pulsing through the vein in her wrist and was anxious to feel it elsewhere. The king coughed.
“I apologize, my liege,” Warbeck said, dropping Kathryn’s hand. “I had almost forgotten the greatness of my wife’s beauty . . . and yours,” he added with a quick look at Elizabeth. Had he dared to wink at her?
Henry took up Elizabeth’s hand, appearing clumsy and nervous compared to his suave prisoner.
“I have ordered refreshments for you and your men,” Elizabeth said, collecting herself from the shock of the introduction. This man certainly had the skill to unnerve people. “Would you like to change and rid yourself of the dust of the road?”
Warbeck was gazing at Kathryn, clearly not listening, but Henry answered for them both. “Yes, I trust you’ve arranged for my guest’s lodging as requested. I would take a moment to clean up before the evening entertainment.”
Henry had requested that a room be prepared for Warbeck that was comfortable but inaccessible from the outside. It was to be well guarded. He was not about to take a chance that his prisoner would escape or that Kathryn would be found with child. Elizabeth wondered if Kathryn realized that she and her husband would be afforded no private moments. Part of her felt sorry, for the two of them were ogling each other in obvious desire. On this point, though, she was forced to agree with her husband. One son between Lady Gordon and Warbeck was more than enough.
Henry and those who had accompanied him left to find their lodgings. Elizabeth watched her husband leave the hall before turning to Kathryn. She looked radiant, more beautiful than Elizabeth had ever seen her, though her hair and dress were just as they had been a few minutes earlier. No matter whether his name was Richard or Perkin, he held Kathryn’s heart in the palm of his hand.
“I am glad to see you reunited with your husband, Kathryn. You are glowing in his presence.”
Kathryn blushed and lowered her eyes to the floor. She had been raised to act properly and not wear her feelings on her sleeve, but he had an effect on her that she could not deny.
“What has he told you of his past?” Elizabeth asked, the vision of her father as a young man still fresh in her mind.
Kathryn seemed surprised by the inquiry. “Before or after his capture?”
Pressing her lips together, Elizabeth regretted asking the question. “Both. I know that he is said to be from Tournai, the son of a boatman. Has he mentioned his boyhood?”
Before answering, the younger woman examined Elizabeth’s face in open curiosity. “Do you believe he may be Richard of York?”
“No,” Elizabeth was quick to answer though it caused Kathryn’s face to fall in disappointment. “But I do wonder if he is my father’s son.”
It took a moment for Elizabeth’s meaning to form in her mind, but, when it did, Kathryn’s eyes widened. “You believe he is a bastard child of the king!”
Treating the subject with nonchalance, Elizabeth said, “It is certainly possible. I loved my father dearly, but he was not known to be strong against the temptation of lust.” She shrugged. “I simply wondered if Perkin,” she used the name purposely here for the first time, “had ever mentioned being adopted or taken in.”
“Well, I suppose he did, since he said that he had been hidden by family loyal to the York cause after being rescued from the Tower. I haven’t had a chance to speak with him about his true background. I know only of the same confession that has been made public.”
“It matters not,” Elizabeth said, closing the subject to discussion. “He is not who he claimed to be. That is all that is important.”
Kathryn knew better than to say more, but her face did not hide her feeling that it certainly was not the only thing that was important to her as her gaze once again found the doorway where she had last caught sight of him. Elizabeth sighed. Maybe Henry’s clemency would not be the mercy that she had originally thought it would be.
~~~~
Throughout the Christmas revelries, Elizabeth watched her friend’s eyes follow Warbeck in longing. Though he was better at hiding it behind his façade of friendliness and flirtations, his desire for his wife was burning just under the surface. One catching a glimpse of what the couple thought was a private moment was likely to be burned by the flames of their passion.
Elizabeth had caught them in an intimate embrace that surely would have progressed into more. Upon questioning, Kathryn admitted that Warbeck had been able to convince his guards that he deserved a few moments with his own wife. The fact that these men could be so easily manipulated worried Elizabeth, and she wondered how much to tell Henry. That he needed to be aware of Warbeck’s skills of coercion was clear, but if he knew the full truth, that Elizabeth believed that the moment had lasted long enough to possibly result in pregnancy, his fury would know no bounds.
She lay in bed, awake though it was well past the hour she usually retired, trying to decide what should be done about Kathryn and her overly enticing husband. Henry seemed surprised that she still desired Warbeck after learning the truth, or at least what was being advanced as the truth, about his birth. He had been certain that once Kathryn, a woman of noble birth, knew that she had been given to a pretender – a commoner – that she would be disgusted. How shocked he
was to find that he was still fighting to keep them apart.
Tossing and turning, Elizabeth cursed her brain for choosing the late night hours to attempt to work out unsolvable problems. She was certain that the only way to keep Warbeck from his wife was to lock him in the Tower with helpless Edward of Warwick. She, however, would not be the one to suggest a step of that magnitude.
The air around her seemed too thick. Was it smoke? She sat up to peek through the bed hangings and confirm that the fire in her hearth had been properly attended. Swirls of smoke squeezed their way through the curtains as she parted them, but it did not come from her fireplace. It seemed to be seeping through the cracks around her door. Fear tightened like a fist around her heart.
“Fire!”
She didn’t realize that she had said it out loud until her ladies started mumbling and sleepily shifting.
“Wake up! There is a fire!”
This time, the lighter sleepers came fully awake as they realized the danger they were in.
“The children,” she grabbed the woman closest to her. It was Jayne. “See to the children.” Suddenly, having her entire family gathered in one household seemed most ominous. Jayne rushed from the room, trusting that her queen could see to herself. Smoke billowed in and filled the room when she opened the door.
As soon as Jayne disappeared, the doorway was filled with men who had been sent to escort the women to safety. Elizabeth was able to breathe her first sigh of relief because their presence indicated that Henry was aware of the fire and would have made it outside himself. At least she would have sighed in relief if she could breathe. The air in the room had become opaque and she choked on the hot, thick smoke.
“My children,” she said to the man who took her arm. She recognized him as one of Henry’s household knights.
“They are outside,” he reassured her, carefully keeping his eyes straight ahead. His honor would not allow him to look upon his queen in her nightshift, even if she was one of the most beautiful women he had ever seen.
Plantagenet Princess, Tudor Queen: The Story of Elizabeth of York Page 26