“Hide him away? With us new married and this young chap in the house?”
Catherine sighed. “Christ’s foot, I am a fool.”
“Robbie’s too young to manage your house, and he requires finishing. He needs a place unless you want him to be exiled in his own land. Your properties are in good hands. Joseph has invested your profits in the Mount Grace buildings and more sheep for the House lands. He’s turned joiner, too, and has set up a dozen woodworkers in the village.”
Catherine’s stomach tripped. She got a bowl down, filled it from her pitcher, and, pulling the onions from her pocket, swished them until she slopped the water over the edge. Benjamin handed her a clout, and she snatched it away without looking at him. “What will we do if my own son condemns us?”
“Give him time. He wants to prove himself and he lacks a man to show him who he is. He wants to wear the sword before he’s mastered the dagger.” He swiped an onion and bit off the nub of pearly bulb. “Let him accustom himself to the notion of me.”
“You sound like Ann Smith.” Catherine snapped the greens and sprayed water all over the table yet again. “Hellfire,” she said, pushing the rag around. She glanced up at Benjamin. “You have never had a son.” She tossed the ravaged, undergrown onions onto a plate. They looked pathetic, like something born too soon.
“No, but I have been one. You say he wants a father. Let me try out the part.”
Catherine swished and shook the dirt from the bulbs. She was smiling and it felt good. “You will, won’t you?”
“You’re pleased to hear it?” asked Benjamin.
“Yes. It eases my heart.”
“And I will keep our secret quiet until we can act.” He shoved the bowl aside. “It will be soon enough. May I come visit you openly?”
“You may not. That man of the king’s still dogs our heels. He hangs on Lady Anne like a plague. His eyes go everywhere and we must be perfect.”
“He is not here. I met him going out as I came in. But you know that.” When he stood and offered her his elbow, she let her hand slide through it this time, and she liked the close fit of their arms.
“You will behave? We cannot have talk, even among the women. Everyone is wound to the breaking point. You should have seen Elizabeth. I thought she would tear out her own hair.”
Benjamin let her go and sighed. “I will behave myself, at least until dark.” He reached for the bag at his hip. “I have brought you a purse of ready money for to use as you see fit.” He offered a red silk pouch with a gold drawstring.
“I cannot take your money,” said Catherine. “I will not.”
“It is yours,” Benjamin replied, pushing it into her hand. “I will get twice this if the wools go to the Calais markets in this dead time. Oh, and I have a present for Veronica, from Havenston.” He pulled out a poppet, with dyed wool for hair and a plaid shawl over her dress. Someone had embroidered a smiling face on its stuffed linen head. “Mistress MacIntosh fashions them for the children in Havenston.”
Catherine took the doll and straightened the tiny coif. “It has a sweet expression. ”She let him take her by both shoulders and kiss her full on the lips. Her eyes closed, but he pulled away and she opened them again.
“Don’t look like that or I will take you upstairs right now.” He set her away from him. “I will win your son, Catherine Havens, whatever I must do.”
A wind rushed through Catherine’s head and she thought she would faint, but Benjamin caught her and put his hand over her mouth. “Quiet. The whole household will hear you.”
Catherine could feel her blood beating against his palm and pulled his fingers away. “I said nothing.”
Agnes came from the laundry, wiping her hands on a clout. “Madam? How do you?” Marjory was behind the older girl.
“I do very well.” Catherine fingered a lock of hair back under the edge of her hood. “Very well indeed. What? Why do you ask?”
Marjory shook her head and glanced over Benjamin. “I thought I heard you call out.”
Someone laughed, then Reg Goodall and Ann Smith, smelling of soap and water, entered the room. Ann’s hands were red, and she shook them dry, saying, “Lady Catherine was just praying, weren’t you?” She winked and Catherine’s face raged with heat. Marjory threw panicked looks around, curtsied awkwardly on one knee, and fled. Ann said, “Benjamin Davies. Hello to you. I thought I might find you here with Sister Catherine. The entire house will know of your arrival.”
Catherine rushed out, toward the kitchen, and almost ran full into Sebastian. “Pardon me, Madam,” he said, backing up. “I’ve been left to fill my own jug.” His hands were empty, but Catherine called Marjory, who came running again from the direction of the cellar.
“You’ve forgotten to keep Sebastian in ale,” said Catherine.
“But I’ve just filled it,” said Marjory. “Just now.”
“My error,” said Sebastian. “I failed to see it.” He bowed and retreated to the kitchen.
Catherine followed. A cold pitcher of ale sat on the side table in the big kitchen, and Sebastian poured himself a large draught while Catherine got wine and four cups. She could hear Benjamin talking as she came down the hall and through the still room door.
“This business of the banns must be hurried and no jests made of it,” said Ann. She took up the doll. “Where did you get the little Scotchwoman?”
“Mistress MacIntosh,” said Reg. “She makes them.”
Ann looked at Benjamin. “Is Margaret in Yorkshire?”
Benjamin said, “Secreted in her chambers from the eyes of the king, or so she hopes.”Ann poured for Reg, then slid onto the bench, propped the doll against the window, and picked up the last cup. “Mustn’t let this go to vinegar.” She drank. “The queen is all bones by now anyway.”
They drank in silence, watched by the startled eyes of the poppet.
Ann announced, “Happier talk. When will you ride North?”
"The banns must be out three times,” offered Reg. “And there’s Lent.”
“Well,” said Ann. “The weather’s yet cold enough for thick skirts.” Her hand traced the scar on her throat. “You know what they say. A first child of marriage can come any time. It’s only the second that takes nine months. But this mother is one of the king’s sisters, and the boy is a companion of the prince.”
“There is no vice in Christian marriage,” said Benjamin.
Ann took one of Catherine’s hands. “Benjamin’s reputation is good. You will go to Yorkshire, with or without the king’s say-so. Boys are changeable in their opinions. He will grow to love a new father. The secret of it will soon be forgotten.”
Catherine laid the onions into a wooden bowl, then sprinkled them with oil and vinegar. “The Cleves brother will push forward, now that the breach has been made,” she said, “even with the king’s men sniffing about. They may hang themselves with their inquisitions.”
Ann said, “Let them do it then.” Her voice was softer. “She doesn’t even know how many rings she owns.”
“I hope he takes her, God help me. I pray for it.” Catherine dragged her hand through the vinegar and lifted the onions. “Have you got a clean clout?”
Ann pulled one from her apron pocket and laid it flat on the table.
“Is this why you set yourself to work like a Trojan?” asked Benjamin. “You think God will send you an answer to your prayers? I tell you, you will not find your salvation in a bowl of salad.”
Catherine laid her hand on the clout and watched the moisture disappear from her nails. She covered her nose and let the scent of the vinegar open her head. “We have never been free since the convent was closed. Forgive me for talking of the old times, but your king has never been the friend to the sisters that the convent was.”
“You think the Pope takes better care of women?” Benjamin leaned back and linked his hands be
hind his head.
“I have never laid eyes on a Pope,” she said. “I expect he’s like other men when they get crowns on their heads. It weighs down their brains and they turn tyrant.” She looked up and saw the wounded darkness in Benjamin’s eyes. “Forgive me. I didn’t mean that I prefer the past to the future. I was not speaking of you, but of freedom as a principle.” She faltered and her heart shriveled with misery. “Don’t listen to me.” Catherine went to the door and, when Reg opened it, peered out. No one was listening there, and she said “Let me refresh us,” but at the kitchen, she heard the scuttle of shoes and went to the wine room instead. She got a bottle of the good claret and returned. “Now pitchers not only have ears; they have ears against closed doors.”
“And they call this reform,” said Ann. “The king trades in one wife for another, and all his people trade each other for a few coins. We hear the Latin, then we hear the English, then it’s Latin again. I am not as sure of this marriage for Lady Anne as you are, Catherine. I believe nothing that I see. We have become so reformed that we are not to be recognized at all. We are neither fish nor flesh.”
Catherine smiled. “That leaves only fowl.”
“I see nothing foul in you,” said Reg, and Ann’s face flushed.
Benjamin grinned. “I wondered when you would find your tongue, man. I suppose your eyes work better than most. And Ann Smith, you do look as though the river air has done you some good. I wonder that you are able to keep your mind upon your work.”
Ann pushed herself to her feet. “It matters not to me whether men’s tongues or eyes work. And I have duties of my own. You all may . . . work out the problems of the land, will you? It makes no difference to me.” She drank off the remains of her cup. “This is for Veronica?” she asked, picking up the doll.
“Yes,” said Benjamin.
“Good.” She shoved past Reg. “I will take it to her.”
Catherine watched her go. “You might go after her if you would, Reg.”
He shook his head. “Her spirits are raised and she will need to be alone to settle them. I will see her when she wants to be seen. She is afraid for you.”
Catherine regarded the man. “You know her right well.”
“As I said. I know her,” said Reg. “Her mind is armed against me.”
“She had a bad man once, a long time ago,” said Catherine. “It’s left its battle scar in her.”
“I know of it. He gambled away her money, then went off and died. It doesn’t change her worth, not in my eyes.”
They sat silent for a moment, then Benjamin leaned forward. “She speaks true about this king. He is in a black mood. He tosses one way and then the other. He looks to lay the blame somewhere. A woman would be a most convenient target.”
“What would he blame her for? That he cannot keep a wife? That he keeps chopping their heads off?” Catherine squeezed her cup. “I cannot tolerate him.”
“We’ll speak more of this later. Now, I must go perform my obligation to the ladies upstairs.” Benjamin stood and took Catherine’s hand. “But be sure I would rather be here with you.”
Catherine remained at the table, with her door ajar, until she heard the voices raised in greeting and announcement above. Anne of Cleves always saved her receiving room for unwelcome guests, and they had met in the front hall. Lady Anne’s deep accent followed Jane Dudley’s clipped soprano notes. A few bass sounds that must have been Harst. Catherine closed her eyes and listened to the easy harmony of their playacting. Someone, it must have been Lady Anne, said “the king,” and Harst said “good sir” twice. Jane Dudley’s bird-voice always had a tremor of alarm rippling over the top of it, and when she said “my Lord” Catherine could tell she meant her husband. Jane never mentioned him without a slight gasp at the center of “Northumberland.” As though it was the name of a wilderness instead of the man’s title. And yet, they always seemed devoted to each other. Catherine wondered what so consumed them.
“Catherine. Catherine! Come up.” It was Jane, of course, trilling from the top of the stairs.
“Coming.” Catherine opened the door to the smaller kitchen and almost fell over Temperance and Marjory. “Tell Sebastian to start the meat from that deer.”
“I hear you, Madam,” said Sebastian from the larger room.
Catherine met Jane at the top of the steps. “Master Davies and I have already said our greetings,” she said. Benjamin approached in his courtier pose, ready to kiss hands. “I am afraid I collared him at the back and forced him to maid it for me in the garden.”
The man bowed anyway. “Lady Overton,” he said.
“She styles herself Havens again,” said Jane. She smirked past him at Catherine. “Didn’t she tell you at the masque?”
“Mm,” said Benjamin. “Well, reversion seems to have become the custom of the country. I do not entirely disapprove.” He bowed again. “Lady Havens.”
Jane Dudley laughed. “Your son will never be as slick as his guardian, Catherine. Be careful you don’t slip on your tongue, sir. Now come. Lady Anne should not be standing at the door like a serving maid.” She gathered her skirt in her fist and swept away.
Benjamin raised his eyebrows. “I am not his guardian,” he said to the space where Jane had been.
Catherine said, “She sees her share of men wanting something. Come.”
Jane was laughing as they entered the game room. “She’s made you her waiting gentlewoman, Benjamin Davies. Perhaps you will hold the Lady Anne’s train when she sits to wager.”
“Whatever the lady requires,” said Benjamin. He smiled at Jane but his eyes were sullen.
Anne of Cleves had settled herself into her cushioned chair at the table, Harst at her side, and when they came in she said, “You were the man of greens.”
“You spied me out,” said Benjamin, repeating his bow. “And now I am a man of mere dirt and have come to serve you.”
Lady Anne said, “I require company.”
“You see me before you,” said Benjamin.
“Cards,” said Lady Anne. She lifted one haunch and dusted her own backside. “They will amuse us.”
“I will sit the fourth,” said Benjamin, “if you will partner one of the ladies, Harst.”
“I will have you,” said Lady Anne. She pointed to the spot across from her.
“Harst, you have Jane.”
“What of Catherine?” asked Benjamin.
Anne turned. “Catherine no likes cards. Do I say right?”
“Forgive me,” said Catherine. “I have no head it.”
“You have no head for no games.” Lady Anne tapped her temple. “All serious. Like a lady scholar.”
“It is my weakness, Lady Anne.”
“But we eat the better for it, and you are your own woman.” Anne of Cleves stopped and looked over the small group. “Our Catherine has her works laid out for her and will take no time for the leisure. The leisure is the way of the English, and yet she labor like the horse in the field.”
“Yes, Lady Anne,” said Catherine. She waited until the cards were being shuffled and headed back downstairs. She was alone in her small book room, looking over her own expense lists, when he returned.
“Still in the dungeon?” Benjamin leaned on the door frame. “When will you begin to value yourself more highly and live upstairs?”
“I value myself at my worth. This is all my realm,” said Catherine. They removed to the less private kitchen, where she shooed the two maids from the big oak table and dismissed Sebastian while Benjamin sat. She fetched a bottle and two cups, poured, and sat across from the man. “I haven’t asked after Diana. How fares she?”
“Happy as any daughter. She has my purse strings and the running of the house. She is on the lookout for a rich young man but no one has passed her tests yet. Sometimes she says she will live an old maid, since my brother has sons e
nough. She misses your company.”
“She needs higher companions.”
“She has no taste for court life. She does not relish a hermit’s life, either, though.”
Catherine glanced over her shoulder then leaned across the table. “Did Lady Anne say anything about the king?”
Benjamin leaned forward in turn. “No. Not a word.” His fingers touched Catherine’s. “All her talk is of that accounts man.”
Her skin sparked a little, and she let their hands lie together. “My books will show nothing to alarm him.” Catherine let herself take gentle hold of Benjamin’s middle finger. She stroked the nail, then sat back. “We mustn’t.”
“Why?” He did not reach for her. “We have managed it before. And there can be no more peril than we are already in.”
“Jane suspects us. There can be no breath of scandal to blow about this house. Not now.”
“No. Nor will I bring it on you.” He drew a paper from his pocket. “But I have brought you this and I want you to study it.”
Catherine read. It was a list of names, with cities and second names beside them. None of them English. “What is this?”
“Hospitable destinations. People who would shelter you should things go badly in the next few weeks with this king and his moods. Their places of residence and English ambassadors who will direct you to them. I would find you.”
“What are you telling me? Is there new danger?”
“The king will cast his eyes about for a new wife. He must. If it is this Anne of Cleves, I will eat my big toe. But if he cannot mend his heart, and the weather should turn stormy, you can choose your path from among these and I will discover which way you have gone.”
“I would not leave my son to be punished in my stead.”
“Your son is safe under the prince’s star. You would take the girl. If need be. That’s all. Put it away and have it if you need it.”
“The lands would be forfeit. And my daughter would be an exile.”
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