The Forbidden Queen полностью

‘I have married this man,’ I said without preamble. I had learned with Young Henry that to get straight to the point was good policy. He lost interest quickly.

‘Have you?’ he asked, looking at Owen. ‘I know you. You are Master Owen. You are Welsh.’

‘I am, my lord.’

‘I have never been to Wales. I wished to go to St Winifred’s well but they would not let me. Is Wales a wild place?’ he asked. ‘Have you ever lived there?’

‘Yes. And it is, my lord,’ Owen replied solemnly. ‘A land of mountains and rivers.’

That did not interest my son. ‘And do you speak Welsh?’ he asked. ‘I do not.’

‘I do, my lord.’

‘Say something to me in Welsh.’

Owen bowed very formally. ‘Yr wyf yn eich was ffyddlon, eich mawrhydi.’

Henry laughed in quick astonishment. ‘What does that mean?’

‘I am your loyal servant, Your Majesty.’

‘I like it. I like your new husband, maman.’ He turned back to his book. ‘I don’t think I will learn Welsh. I must know Latin and French. Perhaps I will send you a gift.’

We left him to his preoccupations. Henry was always generous with gifts.

‘You charmed him!’ I accused. ‘Just like you charmed me with a few Welsh words!’

‘Of course I did, annwyl.’ But although he slid an arm around my waist, his face was grim. ‘We might be in need of all the friends we can get. Even a nine-year-old boy, when he happens to be the boy-King.’

I sighed as Warwick eyed us with a disapproving air. It seemed that I would have to explain myself to every man at Court. Yes, I had known it would be like this but I felt that I must be constantly on the alert, quick with an answer. I was already weary of justifying myself and I had not been wed longer than a se’ennight. Warwick’s observation was trenchant.

‘Well, Katherine, this will stir up a hornet’s nest.’

‘Yes, Richard. I am aware of that.’ I raised my chin. ‘I do not regret it.’

‘I suppose there’s no point in me telling either of you that it would have been better not to do it.’

‘No,’ I replied.

‘Better for whom, my lord?’ Owen added. His patience was also wearing thin but his demeanour held all its old dignity.

‘Richard.’ I touched his arm when he shrugged his incomprehension. ‘I know what I have done. I know that I must answer for it. Will you support me before the Council?’

‘It’s not my support you need.’ His tone was bleak. ‘It’s Gloucester’s. And I don’t see you getting that.’

‘Why would it matter so much?’ I glanced at Owen. ‘We would not draw attention to ourselves. It is my wish to live privately in one of my dower properties. I would not bring disgrace on the Crown or my son. I have little place in his life now.’

‘Gloucester won’t see it like that. You defied him, Katherine. He’ll not brook defiance, not from anyone. You saw the battle royal that developed between him and Henry Beaufort. He’ll not tolerate opposition to any degree.’

‘He never did approve of me, did he?’ I smiled a little sadly.

‘No, he didn’t. He acknowledged your usefulness, but he has no admiration for the Valois. But now you’ve made a bitter enemy of him.’

I thought about the three brothers. Henry, who tolerated me. Gloucester, who actively disliked me. And Bedford, the only one to show me and my plight any understanding.

‘I wish Lord John were back in England. He would not be unsympathetic. He might sway the Council,’ I hazarded.

‘No chance of that.’ Warwick grimaced. ‘Affairs in France are too crucial and not in England’s favour.’

So I was on my own.

But I was not. Owen was all the strength I needed. His arm was warm and strong around my shoulder. I needed it.

Gloucester arrived before the end of the week, travelling from Westminster in one of the royal barges, standing in the prow, hands braced on hips like a carved figurehead.

‘His face is as red as a winter beet, my lady,’ Guille remarked. We were watching from the old Norman gateway as he disembarked. ‘Neither is he wasting any time.’ He leapt from boat to landing like a scalded cat.

‘I expect it will be even redder after he’s said what he has come to say,’ I replied. ‘I’m tempted to refuse to see him if he demands that I wait on him. Which he will.’

Sure enough, as soon as he had marched from river landing to entrance hall, he had sent a page at a run to summon me to the main audience chamber. A summoning, not a request, forsooth. So it was to be a bitingly cold and formal confrontation.

I spent a little time over my appearance, considering the ermine and cloth of gold then rejecting it as it would do nothing to assuage Gloucester’s fury. I did not run.

‘I think I should go alone,’ I said when I found Owen waiting for me at the foot of the staircase, neat and suave and authoritative in shin-length dark damask and chain of office. He was obviously, as Master of the Queen’s Household, out to make a statement.

‘Do you?’ he replied mildly.

‘As you said, it will only antagonise him. It might be worse if we see him together.’