A Dangerous Inheritance

‘But he was in favour of our marriage,’ I say helplessly.

‘Sir William must know that this marriage makes sense,’ Jane says. ‘He ought to be on your side, Ned,’ she adds. ‘It was our father who first gave him a post at court and set him on the road to the greatness he enjoys today.’

Ned looks dejected. ‘That counts for little now. But Lord Robert might help us. Now that the coroner has cleared him of the murder of his wife, he is again influential with the Queen. And, Katherine, his brother was once married to your sister. But wedding without the Queen’s permission? The thing is fraught with dangers, and might be construed as treason.’

‘How can it be?’ I flare. ‘I am not recognised as heiress presumptive. If I were, then it might be treason, but I remain a private person. The Queen ca

‘You have been restored to the status of princess of the blood,’ he reminds me. ‘Therefore your marriage is a matter of public concern. Usurp the Queen’s privilege, and you may yet be accused of treason.’

‘There is no law that says I would be guilty of it!’

‘Have you forgotten that the Queen herself warned you not to wed without her consent?’

‘Things have changed since then,’ Jane puts in. ‘The Queen and her Council must know that a far more deadly threat than your marriage comes from Spain or Scotland. Do it, Brother! Do not sacrifice all you hold dear for the want of a little courage.’

‘I will think on it,’ Ned says reluctantly. ‘If I seem unenthusiastic, it is because I do not wish to bring down the Queen’s wrath on us both. Katherine is too dear to me for that.’ And he stoops and brushes my lips with his own.

Kate

May 1484. Nottingham Castle.

Kate stood before the altar with William, barely hearing the words of the nuptial Mass. This travesty of a ceremony was a perversion of everything that marriage should be, yet she stood there meekly, every inch the King’s daughter in her sumptuous gown and train of black-figured cloth of gold, with tight scarlet velvet sleeves and a surcoat of white silk. Over her shoulders flowed her luxuriant hair, loose in token of her supposedly virgin state. If only they all knew!

She made her vows to William without a tremor. They meant nothing.

She knew John was behind her somewhere. He had said he would be. ‘Think of me when you are at the altar,’ he had said, as they had lain together in the blissful peace that had followed rapturous lovemaking. ‘I will be thinking of you, and of our true vows.’

She had given him her word, and she had kept it. She was his, and no one could take that from her, not even her new-made husband standing by her side.

*

Not for Kate and William a small bedchamber with an old bed hung with dusty green curtains; instead, they were assigned two spacious rooms overlooking the town below. In the larger of the two stood a red-draped bed with a carved table beside it, upon which had been left a silver tray bearing a glass ewer with a silver stopper and jewelled wine goblets. In front of the fireplace stood a long carved cushioned settle, and from the beamed ceiling hung a gilded chandelier, its candles flickering in the breeze from the open window. No detail, no comfort had been overlooked.

But there was small comfort in the thought of what lay ahead. At least, Kate thought, I do not have to face being deflowered by this stranger. It had been painful enough with John, yet he had been gentle with her, and the hurt had soon been replaced by a wondrous new sensation of pleasure. She could not bear to think about that now; her sense of loss was too acute.

When Mattie had gone, having turned down the sheets, plumped the bolster, unlaced and laid away the beautiful wedding gown and brushed her mistress’s tresses until they shone, Kate climbed into bed in her chemise and sat there waiting, her heart pounding. She thanked God for one small mercy: that, because the court was in mourning for the Prince, there was to be no public bedding ceremony.

Soon William appeared, clad in a silk robe. ‘Well, here we are, wife,’ he said, pausing to pour them some wine. ‘I hope you are not afraid of me.’ He handed her a goblet.

‘No, my lord,’ she answered, but gulped down the wine gratefully, averting her eyes as her husband shed his robe and climbed naked into bed. She had a glimpse of sinewy limbs, white flanks and thick thatches of black hair over his chest and between his legs.

‘A toast to our marriage,’ said William, and they clinked goblets. When he had drained his, he laid hold of her. Before she had time to catch her breath, he was raking up her shift, clambering on top of her and forcing an entry. She gasped a little, for his thrusting was painful after all and there was no need to fake any discomfort. When he was done, he slumped beside her, panting, and she lay there, her head turned away, her heart empty. What had been so exalting last night meant nothing at all today. Was this how it was to be for always and always? And was William not going to speak even one word of love to her?

She made an effort. She had to do something to make her marriage bearable. ‘Do I please you, my lord?’ she whispered. There was no answer. Instead, William began snoring.

Katherine

November 1560. Hampton Court Palace.

One morning, as I am walking my dogs through the gardens overlooking the Thames at Hampton Court, I espy my beloved, kissing – for all to see – the hand of Frances Mewtas, a Gentlewoman of the Chamber to the Queen. Unaware of my presence, they talk privily, those two, and she giggles, then Ned bows and goes on his way, leaving her flushed and smiling to herself.

How couldhe? It is not to be borne! Have I waited these long years for Ned, only – with marriage at last in our sights – for him to forsake me for that trollop Mewtas?

Grief and rage burning within me, I race back into the palace, forgetting all decorum and not caring who sees me looking flustered and dismayed, and hasten in search of Jane Seymour. She will know how to deal with her faithless brother! She wants this marriage as much as I do.

I find her in her closet off the maidens’ dorter, and Ned with her. They both stare at me, so wild I appear.

‘How dare you?’ I rail at him. ‘I sawyou making advances to Mistress Mewtas just now. Don’t try to deny it! I suppose this is why you will not commit to marrying me.’

Ned looks horrified. Covering the distance between us in two paces, he grasps my shoulders and looks fiercely into my eyes.

‘What are you saying?’ he asks. ‘I have never held that lady in any esteem, or anyone else for that matter. I thought that, if people saw me flirting with her, aye, and with others too, they would cease conjecturing that there is anything between you and me. But, as God is my judge, I have never, ever betrayed you. I adore you, Katherine! And so let’s be done with all this waiting, for I will marry you out of hand, as soon as we can find a convenient time.’

‘Oh, Ned!’ I ca

‘When will that be?’ she asks.

‘When the Queen’s Majesty returns to London,’ Ned says, and kisses me passionately, not caring that Jane is looking on.

Kate

May 1484. The Augustinian Friary, York.

Kate looked out of her window at the muddy waters of the River Ouse, which flowed past the friary guest house where the royal party was lodged. Further along, to her right, lay the Guildhall, where they were to be entertained to a feast tonight, and to the south was Clifford’s Tower and the ancient castle. Beyond, in the meadows across the river, was the Micklegate Bar, the royal entrance to York, through which they had come in procession a few days ago, to be welcomed by the Mayor and the city fathers. The King had led his company to the great Minster, to give hearty thanks for being safely returned to the north. It was obvious that his heart lay here, in the bracing air of Yorkshire, although Kate knew that part of it had been sealed forever in that sad little tomb at Sheriff Hutton. He and A