‘They are talking.’ I met him on the stairs, and I warned him as we paced side by side, a careful arm’s length between us, along the gallery. For a moment there was an arrested expression in his face, but then he smiled, and a glint of what I could only interpret as Beaufort arrogance.
‘Let them talk. I care not. Neither will you, my love.’
The sparkling desire in his eyes, the heat of his mouth against my fingers, the admiration when he led me to my seat at supper ensured indeed that neither did I. I could foresee no danger for us.
Until…
‘Come to my bed, Queen Kat,’ he whispered when the minstrels withdrew and my household rose from the supper table, leaving us for a moment in a little space. ‘Let me prove my love for you—if you doubt it to any degree. Let me worship you with my body.’
The invitation, with all it implied, loosed a bolt of desire from crown to soles, setting me aflame. Staring at him, I drew in a ragged breath.
‘I cannot.’
‘Then I must come to yours.’
I shook my head, aware of Alice’s frowning scrutiny from where she lingered in the doorway, Young Henry’s hand clutched in hers.
‘Invite me!’ he demanded. ‘I will come to you when the palace sleeps. And I promise you that you will not regret this one step. Are we two not made for love?’
I sought wildly for a reply, managing only, ‘I will not. You would not.’
‘I would.’ He took my hand, lightly innocuous, in his to help me to step down from the dais. ‘I cannot continue this cat and mouse play longer.’
Too much. Too soon. Panic doused the flames. I tried to smile so that no one would suspect the content of his words, or mine. ‘I cannot. You must see that I cannot. What revenge would Gloucester take if my reputation was besmirched?’
His grip on my hand tightened so much that I winced.
‘You refuse me?’ Extravagantly, his brows winged upwards. ‘How can you, when we were meant to be together?’
‘Yes. Yes, I do refuse. Forgive me.’
‘I warn you—I will not give up.’ His voice was low, but he kissed my fingers with an intensity that left me in no doubt of his passion or the hint of quick anger I had seen in his face. ‘You have set me a hard task. As challenging as a quest set for one of King Arthur’s knights. But I will not give up. I will win you, my lady. I will lay siege to the Castle Impregnable—and I will win. I will never admit defeat, for I cannot live without you.’
Releasing my hand, stepping back in one fluid movement, Edmund bowed. I watched him walk away. When he reached the door, he looked back, and bowed again. The light of battle was in his eye.
When I attended Mass next day, it was to be informed by an impassive-faced Master of Household that Lord Edmund had left Windsor at daybreak. He had given no indication that he would return.
So he had left me. He had left me because I would not go to his bed or invite him to come to mine. He had been furious, taking himself off to London—or anywhere else as far as I knew—simply to punish me, because he had been thwarted.
Had Edmund Beaufort ever been thwarted in his whole life?
I doubted it, but I would not be pushed into a commitment that left me so uncertain. Why would I not sleep with him? I pondered. I was no virgin, but I could not commit myself to so momentous a step. I was not totally lost to good sense, and reason told me that to lay my reputation bare to accusations of lewd scandal would throw me into the hands of Gloucester and the Royal Council. Who knew what measures they might take against me if they thought my actions discredited the Young King in any way? I had done the right thing.
Oh, but I missed him. I longed to feel his arms around me again, his soft words against my throat. Perhaps I had just destroyed my only chance of happiness, a glittering gift offered on Edmund’s outstretched palms. Yet I knew that I had not. I knew that I had not seen the last of Edmund Beaufort. I had become the Holy Grail for him, and I knew he would not give up until I lay in his arms.
Edmund’s unheralded departure had given my damsels much food for speculation and Alice an exhalation of relief. After two days of my being the object of their interest, watched to see if I was languishing from unrequited passion, I informed my household that I planned to visit my dower property at Leeds Castle, once Madam Joanna’s place of imprisonment. I found that the idea of the secluded retreat suited my mood, sequestered as it was, cushioned against the world, a place with no court and no damsels for they would not accompany me.
And if Edmund Beaufort discovered my absence and wished to see me, I knew in my heart that he would follow me.
