The Forbidden Queen полностью

‘Have you nothing to say?’ I noted with some surprise that my hands were clenched into fists. I squeezed them tighter. ‘You had enough to say an hour ago. It will have set the tongues wagging from here to Westminster and beyond.’

He walked slowly across the room, his eyes never leaving my face.

‘Is this our first quarrel, annwyl?’ he asked mildly, but his eyes were not mild.

‘Yes. And don’t call me that! And certainly not in public.’

‘So what do I call you? Is it to be my lady?’

I ignored that. I ignored the bitterness behind the innocuous question, as if I would so demean him after I had wed him. ‘Do you intend to stand behind my chair at every meal?’ I demanded.

‘Yes. I do.’

‘Is your pride so great? So great that you cannot accept your new status through marriage to me?’

‘No,’ he replied softly. ‘My pride is not so great. But my care for you is.’

‘Your care for me?’ In my anger, my voice rose. ‘How is it possible that this public exhibition of disagreement would denote a care for me? You drew every eye, and made an issue of something that should never have been an issue. I did not appreciate being centre of attention in that manner. And I will not—’

‘Katherine.’ He took a step closer so that he could clasp my shoulders and stop my words with his mouth, notwithstanding my automatic resistance. I was thoroughly kissed. And then when he released me: ‘We’ll not rouse Gloucester to more anger than we have already. If he found me lounging at your side in silks and jewels, ordering ale and venison with all the authority that you would undoubtedly give me, can you imagine what he would do?’

I shook my head, realising that I had not thought about it in quite such graphic terms.

‘I doubt you thought about it at all,’ he said gently, kissing me again. ‘But I have. He would pull the sky down on both our heads. But on yours particularly. You need his blessing, Katherine, or as much of a blessing as is possible. You don’t need him as your enemy. Gloucester is the power in the land whether we like it or not. So, much as I despise the man, I must not compromise your position further.’

He stepped back, releasing me.

‘That is why I will continue to be Master of Household and stand behind your chair until we see how the land lies.’

I looked at him, all that was left of my anger draining away. It was me. It was me he cared about. I walked forward into his arms, sighing as they closed around me.

‘You foresaw this, didn’t you?’ I whispered.

‘I promised to shield and protect you. I will not encroach on your royal dignity. Or not until we have made our position clear before the Council.’

‘I’m sorry I challenged you as I did.’

Owen gave a bark of laughter. ‘Gan Dduw, Katherine! The faces of your women. They’ll have enough to pick over, and gossip about, to keep their tongues as busy as their needles as they stitch their never-ending altar cloths for the next twelvemonth. Your sanctimonious chaplain nearly choked on his ale.’ But beneath his apparent enjoyment I read the gleam of worry in his eyes, overlaid with sharp irritation.

‘I don’t think I can tolerate many more meals like that,’ I admitted. ‘Do you always use Welsh when you are angry?’

‘Not invariably.’ But at last the ghost of humour in his face was genuine. ‘As for the meals—we had better hope Gloucester travels fast.’

‘And when he does?’

‘Then we inform him of some changes to your household.’

It was all we could do. And yet: ‘Living like this is impossible.’

‘So we move to one of your dower properties.’

‘Will Gloucester forbid it?’

‘Short of locking us up, how can he? And that is what you will tell him. You will live where you choose.’

So I would. I would call on all the respect and honour I had worked for in my role at Young Henry’s side and I would challenge Gloucester. I would demand that Owen and I be left alone. How I wished I had never set eyes on Edmund Beaufort with all his worldly charm. But it was done and I must work with the consequences.

‘Will you stay?’ I asked him.

Owen lifted his chain over his head and cast it onto the bed. ‘I have no duties for the next hour, so pour me a cup of ale, woman.’ But as I walked past him with a little laugh to do just that, he caught me by the wrist and pulled me close. ‘And then I will kiss you,’ he murmured, his mouth against mine, ‘and I will unwrap for you the pleasures to be found in healing a disagreement between two lovers.’

And so he did. He turned to a new page, to a new bright illustration, that filled my mind with its beauty.

My son must be informed, I decided, and although Owen raised his brows, I took him with me from the Rose Tower to the royal apartments where Young Henry, at his lessons, smiled vaguely at Owen. He reluctantly took his attention from the book he held open on his lap, but he stood, laid the book down and bowed.

‘Good morning, maman.’ His manners were improving. He kissed my cheek.