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?’
I flushed to the roots of my hair.
‘Have you?’
‘No. I have not.’
‘Did he try to persuade you? I wager he did.’
I shook my head, turning my face away. ‘I would not,’ I whispered.
‘Then you are fortunate. The Beauforts have more charm than is good for them, and Edmund more than most, while you are beautiful and lonely and…vulnerable.’
‘Am I vulnerable? You make it sound as if Edmund tried to persuade me against my will. He did not. When I refused, he did not pressure me. He understood my reticence.’ My voice became sharp as anger flamed. ‘And you have no right to take me to task.’
‘Is that what I was doing?’ Her lips curved into what might have been a smile but there was a weight of sadness over her. ‘Perhaps so. But I must speak out before you become even more entangled in this relationship. It will bring you nothing but grief. Has he asked you to wed him yet?’
‘Yes.’
‘What did you say?’
I smiled from the pure delight of it. This would surely make her understand. That Edmund was serious in his intent. ‘I said I would.’
‘My child, it cannot be.’
‘I love him,’ I said. Could she not see how right it was?
‘As if love makes all right with the world. And you have been starved of it for so long. I am so very sorry.’ She leaned awkwardly to place a kiss between my brows. ‘They’ll not let you wed, you know. They’ll move heaven and earth to prevent it.’
Was I not Queen Dowager? I would not accept such interference. ‘I cannot believe that anyone would deny me my right to choose the man I wish to wed.’
‘Then you are a fool, Katherine,’ she announced. ‘You have not thought this through at all. And what Edmund Beaufort is planning! Gloucester will object, for sure. Bedford too when he returns from France. Even Warwick. Bishop Henry might be persuaded to give some lukewarm support if he sees an interest for himself in your union, but even he might have qualms.’
‘They cannot stop me.’
Joanna sighed. ‘Tell me this, Katherine,’ she ordered, stern at my wilful intransigence, and leaned forward, willing me to listen and accept. ‘Has he asked you to keep his proposal secret?’
‘Yes, but only for a short time until—’
‘Until when?’
‘I don’t know.’ I sounded sullen even to my own ears, because it echoed my own fears.
