A Dangerous Inheritance

‘That it has not been consummated. You know that, boy.’

‘Then you ca

Pembroke laughs humourlessly. ‘Hah! That horse won’t run.’

Harry defies him. ‘I assure you, Sir, that Katherine is my wife in every sense. We have lain together in secret. To a

‘It is true,’ I say. ‘I swear it.’

‘Spare me your oaths,’ Pembroke snarls. ‘How can it be true? Sanders has kept watch on you throughout, on my orders.’

‘Then ask him,’ Harry says, ‘ask him if he accompanied us to the tower room where first we looked at the old records.’

‘Pah!’ the Earl snorts. ‘I will not believe it. You think to turn me with vain lies.’

‘I do not lie!’ insists Harry.

‘Or I, Sir,’ I echo, crossing my fingers in the folds of my skirt. ‘It is the truth.’ I am determined to stand my ground.

‘This is all nonsense,’ declares the Earl, ‘and I will not listen to any more of it. You will leave my house tonight, Katherine. You will take with you only those things that you brought with you. And if you attempt to repeat your lies in order to subvert the a

‘No!’ I scream, and cling to Harry as to a life raft, begging an unheeding God not to let us be parted. Harry, unma

‘I have spoken. That is an end to the matter.’ And he stalks out of the room, leaving me half fainting with misery in Harry’s arms.

‘Go now, my Katherine,’ he enjoins me, harshly, as if he is tearing the words out of himself. ‘I will fight for you, I vow it.’ He releases me, his eyes intense, insistent. Their promise gives me the courage to do his bidding and let go of him.

‘Farewell for now,’ he says, holding my gaze, and lifting a gentle finger to brush away my tears. ‘Remember how much I love you, sweet wife.’

‘And I you, my dear lord,’ I whisper. Then, feeling as if my heart is utterly broken and can never be made whole again, I turn away and walk out of the room. I do not trust myself to look back.

*

The Earl has wasted no time in summoning his barge for me, with instructions to the boatmaster to deliver me to the house of my parents at Sheen, like an unwanted parcel. He has provided no attendant or escort, just the crew of the boat. I am not even permitted to take the maid he appointed.

His chamberlain briskly ushers me out of the house and down the stairs to the jetty, servants following behind with my hastily packed belongings. I am distraught, with tears streaming down my face, but no one appears to notice. My tragedy is not their concern.

I know that Harry meant what he said, that he will move heaven and earth to get me back. Yet Harry is his father’s son, and the Earl, as has been proved to me tonight, is a formidable opponent. I have to accept the worst now: I am henceforth no more than the sister of the usurper. No one will want to know me or associate with me, let alone marry me. At rising thirteen, this is a terrible thought. My life is over before it has barely begun.

The Priory is in darkness, the grounds drenched in shadows that loom in the moonlight. The barge master does his bidding and no more, and after he has deposited me and my gear on the jetty, he jumps back into the barge and gives the order to depart. The dim lights of the boat recede downstream and disappear into the night, and I am alone, with only the cold moon to light my way up to the dark bulk of the shuttered house.

‘It’s me, Lady Katherine!’ I cry, banging hard on the gatehouse door, but the only response is the eerie hooting of an owl. I rattle the big iron handles, but the portal is securely locked. The blackness of the night, the rustling of the tall trees silhouetted against a starless sky and the black mass of the gatehouse looming up above me are terrifying. Crying noisily now, I sink to my knees. Soon, I am screaming, ‘Help me! Help me! For the love of God, help me!’ Nothing in my short, sheltered life has prepared me for this.

‘Who’s there?’

God be praised, is that my mother’s voice? And can that be footsteps approaching the door? ‘Who’s making that racket?’ calls the voice. It ismy mother! Oh, thank God, thank God! Now I know that prayers are answered.

A light appears at the window above me.

‘Get down here, you fool!’ I can hear my lady saying testily to the porter, who has somewhat belatedly risen to do his duty. ‘Someone’s screaming fit to wake the dead!’

The great key turns in the lock, and there she is, my lady, staring down at me with a horrified expression on her face. She looks tired and drawn, and her brocade gown is mud-spattered at the hem.

‘What are you doing here, child?’ she asks, astonished.

‘The Earl turned me out of his house,’ I tell her.

‘He did what?’ But I am beyond speech. I break down again, and am amazed to find her arms about me, who has never been a demonstrative parent.

‘You shall tell me everything later,’ she says, as she raises me to my feet and supports me as she walks me to the house. I am staggered to hear a tremor in the voice of my strong, formidable mother.

My lord is nowhere to be seen.

‘Your father and I have not long arrived,’ my lady says as we enter the hall, where their baggage is piled in a heap on the floor. ‘I will send the steward to rouse the staff. There is no food in the house and the beds are unaired. But of course, they did not expect us.’

She sits down with me on the settle.

‘Tell me what happened,’ she commands, and in a halting voice I obey. It is only when I reach the part where I am forced to say farewell to Harry that I break down again. For once, my mother does not reprove such weakness. She is plainly furious, but not with me.

‘Pembroke ordered his barge master to abandon you here like that?’ she cries. ‘That is outrageous!’

‘There is more,’ I venture, knowing that my next words might earn me a beating or worse, but I must pursue my only hope. ‘Harry and me – we … we told his father we did lie together. The Earl had forbidden it, and had a man watch us, but we said we had given him the slip.’

My lady does not erupt in rage, but stares at me intently. ‘You spoke truth?’

‘No. I don’t think the Earl believed us anyway. He called us liars, and nothing we said could move him.’

‘It would not have done, even if your marriage had been consummated,’ my mother says stonily. ‘He has to break from us to win the favour of Queen Mary. You do know, I suppose, what has happened this day?’

‘Yes, Madam, I saw the celebrations in London for the new Queen. But what of poor Jane? Is she not here with you?’

‘You may well ask!’ she replies. ‘We had to leave Jane in the Tower, and for all I know she is now a prisoner.’

‘You hadto leave her?’ I have never presumed to question my mother, but the circumstances are like no other.

‘Good God, girl!’ she snaps. ‘Don’t you understand? In accepting the crown that was rightfully Mary’s, Jane has committed treason, and far be it from me, or your father, to attempt to remove her from the Tower. It is for Queen Mary to decide her fate.’

‘But Jane did not want the crown!’ I protest, stu

‘We must pray that the Queen takes that into consideration,’ my lady mutters.

‘She must!’ I cry. ‘They are saying she is a merciful princess.’

‘She is indeed merciful. I know her of old. I am placing all my hopes in her.’ The stern façade is crumbling: my mother suddenly looks as if she might collapse. It seems like the end of the world.

‘How is Jane taking this?’ I ask her.