But Madam Joanna no longer smiled, rather withdrawing her hands from mine. In that brief gesture I had the impression that if she had been able to do it easily she would have stood and walked away to put some distance between us.
‘What is it?’ I asked. ‘Has something happened to upset you?’
Madam Joanna’s eyes were old, full of knowledge, full of past grief, but her gaze was uncomfortably direct. ‘I have come for a purpose. When you have heard me out, you may not wish me to stay long.’
It was a disturbing disclosure, but still I did not follow. ‘I’m sorry, why ever would I not wish you to stay?’
‘Is Edmund Beaufort here?’
‘Why, yes. Yes, he is.’
‘Was he with you at Leeds Castle?’
Now I saw the direction of her questioning. ‘Yes.’ I raised my chin at the first trickle of apprehension that tightened just a little round my heart. But I was not perturbed. Perhaps she did not truly understand, and when she did—for surely Edmund would have no compunction about my telling Madam Joanna—why, then, she would wish me well for she had nothing but my happiness at heart. ‘Yes,’ I repeated, ‘he was at Leeds.’
Startling me, she raised her hands to cup my cheeks as if I were a child to be cosseted, shielded from some unpleasantness. Then let them fall into her lap and her words drove straight through all my new-found happiness.
‘Oh, Katherine! Will you take some advice from an old woman who has seen much and suffered grievously at the hands of ambitious men?’ And for the first time I saw that her lack of ease was more than swollen and aching joints. She was sick to her soul, and my suspicions were grave. ‘I am not your mother to give you advice, but I’m the nearest you’ve got. I think you should be wary of too close a friendship with Edmund Beaufort.’
I kept my reply even, though my heart quaked. ‘Do you not like him?’
‘Liking him or otherwise is not the issue. It is a dangerous liaison, Katherine.’ How gentle her voice, how compassionate her eyes, but how ominous her choice of words.
‘You do not approve of our friendship.’
‘It is not wise.’
‘How can it not be wise?’ My replies were becoming more and more icy. ‘He is cousin to my son.’
‘If friendship is all it is, then I must ask your pardon.’ She tilted her chin, as if she could read my mind. ‘But I suspect it to be more than that, my dear girl.’
I looked away, quick to dissemble, fearing her displeasure, as I had always feared the displeasure of those around me. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Be honest with me, Katherine. How much is between you?’
I looked down at my clasped fingers, white with tension.
‘He makes me happy.’
‘Happy?’
Abruptly I stood and walked across the room until I came to a halt in the centre, keeping my back to her. I could not bear to see the reproof in her face. I concentrated on the leaping flames in the hearth as I chose my words to express all that I thought and felt from this miracle that was Edmund Beaufort.
‘Yes, Edmund makes me happy. Is that a sin, Madam Joanna? I think it is not. Do you know? He makes me smile and laugh and enjoy all that life can offer. He makes my heart sing for joy. He has lifted a weight from my shoulders so that I feel young again. No one has ever done that for me. No one ever cared enough about me. Before I knew him, after Henry’s death I was dragged down by loneliness and misery. I felt so old and superfluous. I was wretched indeed. Perhaps I should be despised for lack of will, of character. But so it was.’
I drew in a breath. Joanna waited, sensing that I still had things I needed to say.
‘Then Edmund Beaufort came into my life with such energy, such immeasurable elation. Such skill in forcing me to see what I might be if I was brave enough to take the steps. I have never known anyone like him. He has saved me from my black humours, he has dragged me back into life. Can you understand that?’
‘I too know what it is to be lonely, Katherine.’
And guilt flooded through me. Spinning round, I flung back to kneel at her feet, searching her face for some understanding.
‘Forgive me. Forgive me. Of course you do—but then you must know how much I value…’
‘Katherine! How much is between you?’ she repeated.
‘He loves me,’ I replied simply.
‘He has told you this, has he?’
‘Yes. And I love him.’
‘Damn the boy! He would, of course.’ She touched my hair, tucking a wayward strand beneath my veil, and her question was soft but I heard the bite. ‘I hear he seduced you in the heat of Twelfth Night revels.’
‘Who told you that?’ I demanded, displeased.
‘It doesn’t matter. James should have warned you, but I expect he was too taken up with his freedom and his new bride.’ She eyed me. ‘How unfortunate that he has gone back to Scotland. He’s an astute young man and you might listen to his advice before you listen to mine.’
‘But they are friends,’ I objected. ‘Why would he warn me against Edmund?’
‘So they might be friends. But James has a keen nose for self-preservation and power-brokering.’ For a moment she paused. ‘Have you been foolish enough to be intimate with him?’
