A Dangerous Inheritance

‘No, my sweet Kate, you should not.’ And he leaned forward and kissed her lips. ‘I will miss you desperately when you are gone,’ he murmured. Feeling much happier, Kate forgot who might be watching, and for a few moments they were oblivious to anything but each other, until the approach of distant voices made them spring apart, giggling.

‘It does my heart good to see you smiling again, my fair maiden,’ John said.

‘You have given me reason to smile,’ Kate told him. ‘You have banished my doubts and fears.’

Only rarely did the King have time to dine privately with his family these days, and even though his wife and children were to depart on the morrow, and this would be their last night together for some time, he insisted on their joining him at the high table in Lincoln Castle’s great hall, with its timbered roof, tiled floor, high windows ornamented with stone lions, and brightly painted armorial cloth hanging behind the dais. The entire court rose as the royal party entered, then after grace there was a scraping of stools and benches as everyone was seated. Kate was next to the Queen, and after the servitors had presented napkins, manchet bread and ewers of fine wine, she soon realised that this was to be no convivial farewell di

‘There’s much more to this treason than I at first thought,’ he said, his face haggard. ‘That traitor is uniting the malcontents, and he means business. I have no doubt that Lady Stanley and her friends have their fingers in the pie, aiming to further the ambitions of Henry Tudor. And my spies tell me that the Wydevilles are up to their necks in this. They say Buckingham would be another Kingmaker, like Warwick.’

A

‘He misliked the deaths of Hastings, Rivers and Grey,’ the King said, ‘and he was not satisfied with his rewards. He is the kind of man who always wants more.’

‘And Henry Tudor can give it to him?’ A

‘If Buckingham believes that, he’s a fool.’

‘What will you do about Buckingham, Sire?’ Kate asked.

‘Raise an army and march against him and his allies. Thanks to Norfolk, I have learned of this rebellion in good time to deal with it. There are many measures in place already, thanks be to God. And two can play at character assassination.’ He smiled waspishly. So he hadheard the rumours, and was ready to counteract them. That was just what Kate wanted to hear.

‘We will break the Duke, one way or another!’ Richard declared, his mouth set in a grim line.

Part Three

Knots of Secret Might

Katherine

1558. Hanworth, Middlesex.

LAST YEAR, HER Majesty, God comfort her, suffered yet another false pregnancy. Her grief was terrible to witness, but what was even worse was the anguished outburst that followed when King Philip let it be known that he was leaving England. When our poor mistress went to wave him off at Greenwich, she was in a state of near collapse, and nothing anyone could say or do could cheer her. And when the disgraceful news came that Calais, England’s last possession in France, had been lost in Philip’s useless wars, she became weak and ill, and retired into virtual seclusion.

Jane Seymour, never robust, has been unwell too, with an evil cough. Thanks to the concern of our good Queen, she is to leave court to rest at her mother’s house at Hanworth, near Hounslow, and I have been given permission to accompany her. My mother, who is herself not in the best of health these days, and spends much of her time at Sheen, will come with us, and is gladdened to be visiting her old gossip, the Duchess of Somerset; it will make a pleasant change for her.

‘Go with my blessing,’ Queen Mary says, her face dull with melancholy. ‘It will be good for you to get away into the country. My court is no place for bright young girls like you. I pray that the Lady Jane will soon be much restored. Give her our good wishes.’

I suspect that Jane is in a worse case than she would have us believe, yet her natural high spirits are not so easily suppressed. Riding beside her litter, I listen to her gay chatter and could believe that she is in high good health; God send it will be so soon.

It is at Hanworth that I meet once more the young man who is to be my joy – and my downfall, although I have no inkling of that to begin with, of course. Indeed, I have long thought on him purely as one to whom my sister Jane was once betrothed, and the brother of my friend. He has no place in my thoughts as we ride up the driveway and grooms come hurrying to take the horses, while the Duchess of Somerset’s chamberlain descends the porch steps to welcome us all.

The sumptuous palace of Hanworth was recently granted by her Majesty to my guardian, the Duchess of Somerset. It is a great house, built by King Harry for A

Jane is embraced and clucked over by her mother the Duchess, then carried off by an army of female servants and put to bed. The two dowagers, my mother and the Duchess A

The sadnesses and strains of the past months seem distant in this beautiful place, with its exquisite formal gardens, its broad green vistas across the hunting park, and the hot sun sparkling in the waters of the moat that encloses the imposing Renaissance house. But now, walking along an avenue lined with yew trees, I see an even more captivating vision.

Striding towards me is a slender young man of middle height with a hound bounding along by his side. The man is dark-haired, and better looking than I have ever realised, with an angular face, a strong aquiline nose, deep-set eyes and a firm jaw, and he is wearing hunting clothes of good-quality cloth. His face is, of course, familiar: I have seen him often at court, and he used to visit my father’s house when my sister Jane was alive. This is the Duchess’s eldest son, Lord Edward Seymour, he who was once betrothed to poor Jane. How different her life and mine would have been had she married him. She would be living today.

‘Ho, Sirrah!’ Lord Edward cries to his hound, as we draw nigh, and the ungainly beast comes reluctantly to heel before it can bother my little lap-dogs. The young lord’s beautiful heavy-lidded eyes – a startling blue against his dark hair – twinkle at me as he makes a brief bow.

‘To which fair lady do I have the pleasure of addressing myself?’ He smiles, his voice seductive and melodious. I had thought Harry handsome, but the effect that this vision of robust masculinity is having upon me is startling.

‘Do you not remember who I am?’ I ask him, a little teasing.

‘Yes, of course. You are the Lady Katherine. I remember you well. My mother told me you had arrived when I came down from London today, and I was hoping to see you. You have fine weather for your visit.’