A Dangerous Inheritance

‘Have you spoken out in your defence?’ The sharpness in A

‘I have indeed.’ He got up and started pacing up and down the marble floor. ‘Why do you think I have based myself here in the City? Every day I have been wooing the chief citizens of London with fair words and gifts, and assuring them that rumour speaks false – and I do believe that I am begi

Kate saw that her father was very angry. He was gnawing his lip, and that was always a sure sign.

‘But I have yet to convince the Council,’ Richard was saying. ‘There are those who wish to prevent me from extending my power beyond the coronation. Well, I know what I must do. A house divided is bound to fall. I will divide the Council. I have summoned those councillors who support me to meet with me here, in private. The rest can amuse themselves pla

‘My lord, take care, I beg of you!’ A

‘Rest assured I will, my lady.’

But A

‘I have invited her back to court. I have sent messages assuring her of my good intentions towards her and her children. I encourage people to visit her without hindrance, to demonstrate that I intend her no harm.’

‘While you keep her brother and her son in prison, she will never believe that,’ A

‘And if I release them, having justly imprisoned them, accused them of treason and seized their estates, they will surely exact vengeance on me.’

‘There was something else,’ A

‘He must have been referring to the cartloads of arms that I commanded to be sent before us when I entered the City with the King,’ Richard said. ‘Some allege I faked evidence of a plot against me. In this climate, people will say and believe anything. You must give such calumnies no credence.’

He made a visible effort to relax. ‘But enough of this kingdom’s woes. I have thought of nothing else these past weeks. Right now, I want you all to cease worrying and enjoy your stay in London. There is nothing I ca

Katherine

May 1553. Baynard’s Castle, London.

The Earl has waved all the servants away, and as a door closes behind them and their footsteps fade away into the distance, he looks intently at us.

‘For now, you must curb your feelings for each other, my children,’ he a

‘No!’ Harry’s response is quick and furious. ‘No! Father, we are man and wife, and we are both old enough to become one flesh, as Scripture enjoins us.’

I ca

‘It grieves me to forbid you, my son, but I assure you that all has been decided for the best,’ the Earl says kindly.

‘But why?’ demands Harry. ‘If I am to be kept from my wife, I have a right to know why!’

The Countess, slightly flushed, steps forward and places a hand on his arm. ‘My son, there are things – great matters – that you know nothing of. If our plans come to fruition—’

‘Hush, woman!’ Pembroke interrupts.

‘I but sought to assure these young people that, if matters go our way, all will be well,’ she protests, then comes over and embraces me. ‘Do not look so unhappy, child. It will only be for a short time, I am sure.’

‘Katherine is my wife! I have a right to lie with her,’ Harry insists, his temper rising. ‘You shall not stop me!’

‘Don’t you understand, you ignorant young cub?’ his father barks, jabbing a forefinger at him. ‘We are doing our best to protect the interests of you, your lady wife here, and our two families. More than that I ca

Harry’s mother says gently, ‘You may keep each other company at will, and enjoy life together – all we ask is that you postpone the consummation of your marriage until such time as it may be accomplished in perfect harmony and peace.’

Harry looks defeated. Maybe the finality of his father’s tone has silenced him.

The Countess takes my arm. ‘Dear daughter, I myself will show you to your bedchamber. Bid good night to your husband and attend me.’

Harry embraces me, kisses me hard on the lips, and whispers in my ear, ‘Don’t lock your door.’ I thrill to his words. We will defy them all, my love and I: we willbe together, in spite of what they say! My heart is racing as I meekly follow the Countess without a backward look. They think they have won – but we will be the victors!

My room is beautiful, lavish! The tester bed is carved, gilded and built on a dais. The curtains are of rich red damask looped with gold tassels, the counterpane of costly cloth of gold, with lozenges embroidered with the lions of Pembroke on a background of red and blue velvet. Over a chair is draped the most exquisite nightgown of crimson satin edged with pearls. A bowl of dried petals gives off a fragrant scent.

My maid is waiting. She detaches my oversleeves, unlaces the heavy wedding gown and lets it fall onto the rich carpet so that I can step out of it; then she attires me in a lawn smock and brushes my hair – twenty, forty, sixty strokes. I am ready for bed now, and she turns back the covers, helps me in, douses all the candles but the one on the table, curtseys, and silently closes the door behind her.

I feel very alone, lying in this strange bed. I had not expected my wedding night to be like this, and suddenly I experience an unexpected pang of homesickness, which I’m sure I would not be feeling if Harry was with me. Trying not to weep, I fix my gaze on the pictures on the walls: a curious painting narrating the terrible story of Jephthah’s daughter, and a portrait labelled ANNE PARR, who was the Earl’s late wife, Harry’s mother, and sister to Queen Katherine. On my nightstand is a dish of figs, a rare delicacy, and a goblet of sweet wine. I am cosseted in luxury. I lack for nothing but my husband.

Will he come? I lie waiting for what seems like hours. Of course, he must wait until the house has settled down for the night. Dare he come? Or has he thought better of his rash defiance? Lord, please let him come!

What was that? The sweep of a night owl’s wings as it swooped to its prey? Nay, it was a footfall. And another, stealthy, only audible to one who is awaiting it. And suddenly the door opens and there is my Harry in his black nightgown, his eyes alight with love, and desire in his pale face. My heart is fit to burst with joy!

Silently, slowly, he closes the door, then pads on bare feet towards me. I hold out my arms and he comes into them and kisses my lips. Then he pulls down my smock and bends to nuzzle my budding breasts.

‘Harry!’ I whisper, blushing.

‘Sweeting!’ he murmurs, and makes to remove his nightgown.

‘What is the meaning of this?’ barks a sharp voice from the doorway. ‘I thought I had made myself clear!’ It is the Earl, standing there like an avenging angel, hands aggressively on hips, black brows knit in a frown.

Harry jumps up startled, gathering his nightgown about him, while I hastily pull up the sheet, my cheeks flaming.

‘Get you hence, my son!’ the Earl commands. ‘And do not think to disobey me again. It’s fortunate that I was awake listening for you. I know you, my boy. Adventurous like me. Well, I can’t blame you, but you will not defy me again. Say goodnight to your young lady and go back to your room, and we will say no more of the matter.’