He laughed—and at last he said what I wanted to hear. ‘We will do this as tradition dictates.’ Sinking to one knee, head bent like a knight in some chivalrous tale of love for his lady, voice clear and low, Owen enclosed my hands in his. ‘Wed me, Katherine. Take me as I am, a man without recognition, whose birth and honour stand for nought but a man who swears on the untarnished names of his ancestors that he will love you and honour you. Until death parts us—and beyond.’
Briefly, fleetingly, I recalled Edmund kneeling at my feet in an enchantment of flirtatious laughter, but in the end without honour, casting aside the heart he had entranced. Owen Tudor held that heart in his sure hands. He would never allow it to fall. Love for him filled my breast.
‘Will you wed me, Katherine?’
‘You know I will. Now stand up so that I might kiss you.’
Alice was waiting for me in my chamber, not exactly glowering but redolent of unease. She had been there for some time, judging by the empty platter and cup at her side. She glanced at Guille, reading who knew what in her lively stare, before she dispatched her. Then demanded, ‘Have you told him?’
‘Yes.’
‘And?’
‘We will marry.’ I found that I was smiling. So simple a statement of intent. It held all I wanted and for a little time I could close my mind to the tempest that we would stir up, as black and threatening as the clouds that still hemmed Windsor about. ‘Owen and I will marry.’
When her breath had returned, Alice said what I knew she would say. ‘You cannot. It will break the statute. Your son is not old enough to give his consent, and the Royal Council won’t do it. Gloucester will make sure they don’t. The law is against you, my lady.’
I linked my hands, loosely, calmly. ‘Then I will do it without Young Henry and the Council’s consent. I will ignore the law. It is an unjust law and I will not abide by it.’
My lips were still warm from Owen’s kisses. I felt that I could face the world, challenge any who stood before me. What strength love can endow.
‘Gloucester might take steps to stop you.’
‘Then I will not tell Gloucester.’ How easy it seemed, yet a little ripple of worry teased at my mind. Was I being impossibly naïve? I neither knew nor cared. My feet were set on the path I had chosen, and I would not divert from it.
‘If Gloucester did not chastise you,’ Alice persisted, ‘he might take his revenge on Owen Tudor.’
The ripple became an onslaught. Would I wilfully bring harm to the man I loved? No, I would not. But the alternative was to live without him, and that I could not do.
‘Would you risk that?’ Alice asked.
‘I must,’ I said, my vision clear. ‘We have decided. We will stand together, against the whole world if we have to. And this child will be born in wedlock.’
‘God bless you, my lady. I will pray for you.’
We decided what we would do, Owen and I. It did not take us long, no more than the time it took to share breath in one kiss. If we wed, we would do so in the full light of day and in the open knowledge of Young Henry’s court at Windsor.
What use in hiding a scandalous marriage between the Queen Dowager and her Master of Household? What value to us in a clandestine ceremony if we wished to live openly as man and wife? And as the child grew in me, secrecy was not something to be considered. I might hide my condition beneath my skirts and high waists for a good few weeks but not for ever, and this child would be born without a slur on its name. We would wed now, and damn the consequences, as Owen put it.
‘We’ll do it in the face of God and man,’ Owen declared. ‘I’ll not hide behind your skirts, Katherine. Neither will we participate in some undisclosed rite that can later be questioned for its legitimacy. We will be man and wife, with all the legal proof necessary.’
Had he thought I would choose a secret ceremony, at dead of night, with no witness but the priest? He did not yet know me well. Or at least not the new Katherine who seemed to have emerged fully fledged under his protective wings. Soon he would know me better.
‘No man will ever have the right to label you Owen Tudor’s whore,’ he continued.
‘They will not.’
‘Do you think? Gloucester will discover every means possible to prove our marriage false. Forewarned is forearmed, so we’ll give him no grounds. I’ll take you as my wife under the eye of every man and woman in this damned palace, and be proud of it.’
‘And so will I take you as my husband. I will not demean our love, or my position as your wife, by travelling the corridors in cloak and veil to spend a clandestine night with my husband as if I was a whore,’ I replied.
My plain speaking surprised him into a laugh. ‘It will not be popular.’
