A Dangerous Inheritance

‘I will think on this,’ I murmur, mollified, but uneasily aware that this conversation might be treasonous. And although I can see the political sense in what the Bishop is offering, and am flattered at the prospect of such a great match, my heart is Ned’s, and can be Ned’s alone.

‘I am sorry to see you looking so downcast, Lady Katherine,’ de Quadra says. ‘I have heard about your quarrel with the Queen. You were brave to speak out – yet a little rash, if I may say so. But the Queen’s wrath never lasts long, I am told.’

‘I wish I could believe that,’ I tell him. ‘She has always hated me.’

‘She hates you because she fears you, my lady, and with good reason. In my master’s view, you would make a more desirable queen than she.’

‘You must not say that to me,’ I reprimand him. ‘It is treason, no less.’ But my heart is leaping. My friends in Spain, who have caused me so much trouble, may yet find a way to champion my cause.

Bishop de Quadra looks consideringly at me. ‘If any disaster were to befall the Queen, my master would support your claim, by force of arms, if need be.’

I stare at him. I had not imagined that Spain felt so strongly about my succession. And for the first time in weeks, my spirits begin to soar.

Kate

February 1484. The Palace of Westminster.

King Richard was reading in his carved box chair when Kate arrived in the privy chamber and made her curtsey. Queen A

Her father smiled, laid down his book and held out his arms, and Kate went into them, hating herself for ever having doubted him.

‘I have very good news for you, Kate,’ he a

Her heart pounding she clapped her hand to her mouth. ‘I thank your Grace!’ she cried. ‘It is what I have longed for.’ There were tears in her eyes.

Richard looked at her uncomprehendingly for a moment, then his smile faded.

‘Ah, daughter, you think it is my lord of Lincoln, but I am afraid he is not the lucky man. No, you are to be wed to the Earl of Huntingdon.’

‘No!’ She could not stop herself. She had been schooled to obedience since birth, and taught that her father’s word was law, and her father was also her King, so she owed him a double duty – but she was ready to defy him in this. Forsake John for a stranger? She would rather die!

The King took her hands. ‘No?’ he said gently. ‘That is not the reaction I expected from my dutiful daughter when I have provided carefully for her future.’ It was a reproof, but a kindly one.

‘It is not your place to question your father’s decision, Kate,’ A

Kate was trembling. ‘Sire, you knew I wished to wed my cousin of Lincoln.’ Tears were streaming down her cheeks.

Her father looked pained. ‘I thought I had warned you not to think of marriage with him. You are my daughter, and your marriage must be made for policy. This match with the Earl of Huntingdon is a brilliant one for you, and much to my advantage – and yours. You will be a countess, a great lady – it is a union I would have sought for my trueborn daughter, if I had one.’

‘But I love John!’ Kate burst out. ‘I can never love the Earl of Huntingdon!’

Her father’s face darkened, but A

‘Listen, Kate,’ she enjoined. ‘It is the duty of a wife to love her lord, once she is married. You must try as hard as you can. No good can come of falling in love where you will; you must see that now. My lord of Lincoln is a charming young man, but you are too close in blood.’

The King spoke. ‘Knowing that there was goodwill between you and my nephew, I did sound out his father on the matter of a marriage between you. He said he would not forbid it if I wanted it, but he was unhappy about the consanguinity, and he does have another bride in mind for his son.’

Of course, she had known that, but she knew too that the Duke had a deeper reservation, one he would never have dared voice to her father. Her distress was unbearable; she was now weeping so copiously that Richard and A

‘Kate, he is not for you,’ A

‘Nay, because I am baseborn!’ Kate cried. ‘That is the real reason why his father does not want the marriage!’

Richard looked stricken. ‘That ca

Kate’s nod was barely perceptible. She dabbed her eyes, but could not stop shuddering. Then the King began speaking.

William Herbert, he said, was twenty-eight years old. (Old, she thought, too old!) His father and namesake had been one of the most powerful supporters of the House of York, for which he had fought valiantly during the late wars. After his accession, Edward IV had given the older Herbert high offices in south Wales, made him a baron, and granted him Pembroke Castle and many other strongholds and manors.

Lord Herbert had vanquished the Welsh Tudors, who had fought for the House of Lancaster, and soon he was given their earldom of Pembroke. After that, the King related, he was the effective ruler of all Wales. His friend, King Edward, had entrusted him with the wardship of young Henry Tudor, who had spent his early years in Herbert’s care at Raglan Castle, the family’s chief seat.

‘This Earl of Pembroke had started out as a humble squire,’ Richard said, ‘but within a decade he had become one of the greatest lords in the kingdom. And it was well deserved, for he had rendered loyal and excellent service to our House.’

Kate could not see what the career of this paragon had to do with her marriage, but she ventured no comment and sat there silently grappling with her misery, and trying to focus on what her father was saying.

‘Your future husband grew up during these years. He was knighted at the age of eleven, created Baron Dunster, and married to the Queen’s sister, Mary Wydeville.’

Kate could tell by her father’s tone that he had not approved. But what stirred her interest slightly was that Huntingdon had been married before.

‘What was she like, this Mary Wydeville?’ she asked.

Her father looked at her hopefully. He was thinking that she was coming around to the idea of this marriage. But she was merely curious.

‘In faith, I do not know,’ he said. ‘There were so many Wydeville sisters. She ca

As I shall be, Kate thought desperately. God, where is Raglan? In some Welsh mountain fastness? No! Never!

‘Lady Huntingdon has been dead for two years. She left one daughter, Elizabeth, who is the Earl’s sole heir.’

And no doubt he seeks a brood mare to provide him with sons! Kate could not contain her bitterness. Well, he can look elsewhere. I will never wed him.

‘That has not been the only sadness in Huntingdon’s life,’ Richard was saying. ‘Alas, in 1469, his gallant father, Pembroke, was captured by the Lancastrians at Edgecote Moor. They beheaded him at Northampton. His son, your future betrothed, then tried to establish his authority in Wales, but he was very young, and without the experience of his father. His rule was not effective, and the Herbert influence declined. He was unable to prevent Henry Tudor’s uncle, Jasper, from seizing the boy from Raglan Castle and escaping with him to France.’

None of this sounded much like a recommendation. William Herbert had suffered tragedy, yes, but he was clearly not the man his father had been.