And there was all the reassurance I desired. Madam Joanna did not understand. His love for me was true. Nothing could undermine my certainty. As if he read it in my face, Edmund pressed his lips tenderly to my brow, and when he spoke, his words held the reverence of a vow.
‘I know you have faith in me. As I have in you. We will win this battle. I will bring happiness and fulfilment into your life, such as you have never known.’ The strength of his arms, the vibrant assurance in his face, the shower of kisses across my cheeks chased away my fears. ‘I’ll speak with my uncle.’ Edmund’s smile lit all the dark corners of my heart; delight bloomed as the reverence vanished and his lively humour returned. ‘Bishop Henry will enjoy putting a spoke in Gloucester’s wheel, if nothing else. Have I convinced you?’
‘Yes.’ I sighed. ‘Forgive me my lack of faith.’
‘It is not easy for you,’ he murmured against my lips. ‘But always remember. I worship at your feet, my dearest love.’
And there was Young Henry, carrying a flagon of wine with fierce concentration. While Edmund accepted his enthusiastic greeting and poured the wine, Madam Joanna’s warnings dissipated as matters of no moment. Happiness settled on my shoulders and my mind quietened.
My conversation with Warwick was far shorter and more to the point than that with Madam Joanna. He did not mince his words. He did not even make an excuse for seeking me out, merely drawing me away from my damsels in the interest of privacy.
‘I don’t like to see Edmund Beaufort prowling around Windsor like a cat on heat.’
‘Edmund does not prowl,’ I replied, stiffening at the implication.
‘A matter of opinion. He has a predatory air, Katherine. And a possessive one, so I’m told.’
He bent his stern gaze on me. He was Warwick today, not Richard. I drew myself up to my full height so that our eyes were on a level. ‘He is here at my invitation.’
‘I know.’ The lines on Warwick’s face, instead of being amiable and smiling, resembled the carvings achieved by a stonemason’s chisel.
‘We cannot forbid him to visit his cousin. My son enjoys his company.’
‘I know that too,’ Warwick snapped. ‘And I don’t like that either.’
‘Edmund Beaufort is welcome in my household, and will continue to be so,’ I stated.
‘And I cannot stop you. But take some advice.’ Warwick was as brusque as I had ever heard him. ‘Don’t become embroiled in a predicament that will bring you more pain than pleasure.’
I raised my chin. I would not listen.
‘I am going to Westminster,’ Edmund announced the next day.
‘Don’t go,’ I pleaded.
‘You know I must.’ Although he smiled, I read raw impatience in his eyes, in the set of his jaw. ‘The sooner I see Bishop Henry, the sooner we can be wed.’
He kissed my hand with admirably restrained courtesy since we were in my solar under the eagle eye of Beatrice. All my fears were smoothed out, like a length of faultless silk, and I accompanied him down to the main door, where my Master of Household waited with Edmund’s outer garments.
‘Look for me within the week,’ Edmund promised me, shrugging into his coat and drawing on his gloves, before leaping down the steps two at a time to where his groom held his horse.
‘Thank you, Master Owen,’ I said, as Edmund in his hunger to be gone had not.
‘My pleasure, my lady,’ he replied, watching Edmund ride from the courtyard with a jaunty gesture, hat in hand. But Master Tudor’s tone caused me to glance up at him, and the dark reproach—or perhaps even contempt—in the gaze that followed Edmund startled me. Then it was gone, a mere shadow, as the Master bowed to me. ‘Do you require anything, my lady?’
I shook my head. Only that Edmund return soon with a date for our marriage.
‘Are you entirely witless, woman?’
It was not Edmund but Gloucester.
How I wished that Edmund stood beside me. As it was, I was forced to face the battering ram of Gloucester’s wrath alone. He arrived within two days of Edmund’s departure, a virulent tempest, raining invective down on my unprotected head when he marched into my private chamber as if about to do battle. At his side came Bishop Henry in clerical splendour, stolid and smiling despite the uneasy flicker of his eye away from mine when I raised my brows. At least Edmund’s uncle bowed, kissed my hand and asked after my health. All Gloucester could do was glower and fume as he launched his first tirade.
‘Have you not even the sense you were born with?’
I gasped at his discourtesy, standing slowly, letting my embroidery slide to the floor.
‘I won’t ask you if the rumours are true. I’m quite certain they are.’ He gestured at my damsels. ‘Dismiss them!’
So I did, quivering with nerves.
‘All of them!’
‘No. Alice remains.’ I needed some support, and since I was fortunate to have her company I would keep her with me.
