A Dangerous Inheritance

She sighed. Tomorrow, she and William would say farewell to the King and Queen and depart for Raglan. She was dreading that moment, hating to leave her father and stepmother, especially when their grief was still so raw. And her lost lover, John: she would be saying a silent goodbye to him too, for a long, long while. She had seen him about the court often since her marriage, but they had had no converse. It was what they had agreed when they parted after their one blissful night together. Kate had to live with William, after all. Even so, she sometimes thought she would die of yearning for John.

After a fortnight of marriage, she knew William little better than she had before. He observed the courtesies by day, lay with her every night, and was at her side whenever convention demanded it. No one could have faulted him. Yet he hardly talked to her, and there was no spark of any sort between them. She bore his attentions patiently, but they were joyless, and left her weeping silently into her pillow every time. This had nothing to do with love! This was mere duty, and she had begun to see married life as a long, dreary, barren road stretching out endlessly ahead of her.

She had tried; oh yes, she had tried. She had started conversations, made little jests or asked questions calculated to prompt some discourse. William always answered politely, but he never engaged with her beyond that. She knew he did not love her, and was grateful for it. Yet why did he not co-operate in making things easier and more pleasant for them both? He seemed to look upon her as one of his chattels, no more, and to assume that she was happy being left to gossip with Mattie over their embroidery. He made no attempt to restrict her in any ma

It was time to make ready for the banquet. She summoned Mattie.

‘My, you do look a glump!’ the girl said cheerfully. She had spent the afternoon with Guy, her sweetheart. William had agreed to take him on, and the happy couple were to be married when they reached Raglan. ‘Missing Lord Lincoln, are ye?’

‘Horribly,’ Kate said. ‘I do not know how I bear it. But Mattie, nevermention his name once we leave here. My lord does not care much for me, but he would care very much if his good name were sullied.’

‘I promise, my lady,’ Mattie vowed. ‘Now, it’s the crimson tonight, isn’t it?’ And she helped Kate into a figure-skimming velvet gown with tight sleeves that belled out at the wrist, a low neck edged with a border of gold damask, a skirt that trailed in rippling folds on the floor, and a silk hip belt from which jangled gold ornaments. Then she drew her mistress’s hair back into a tight plait and pi

The feast was lavish, the city burghers puffed out in their furred robes anxious to attend to their King’s every comfort. There were cheers for Richard when he entered the Guildhall, and for once his careworn face lightened. There had been no whisper of a rumour up here, Kate reflected, and felt heartened.

In the morning, she and William rose early, heard Mass and ate breakfast. Then they attended on the King, who greeted them warmly and a

Her father told William he had confirmed him in his earldom, and William stolidly expressed his gratitude.

‘Now, Son Herbert,’ the King said, ‘these honours, and the gift of my daughter, are not for nothing. In return, you will hold south Wales for me against the Tudor, for there is no doubt that he will make another attempt on England sometime soon. In the meantime, I will look to the north.’ His face suddenly twisted with pain. The Prince, of course, was to have been his representative there.

He pulled himself together with an effort. ‘I mind to set up the King’s Household in the North, which will be established at Sandal Castle under the rule of my nephew Lincoln, who is now to represent me in these parts. He will also have charge of Sheriff Hutton Castle, where I intend to house the heirs of the House of York in safety. Warwick will be sent there, his sister Margaret and, because it will benefit him, my bastard, John of Gloucester.’

He paused. ‘I will tell you something, both of you, that is as yet a great secret, but will be made known when I think it politic. Warwick is next in line, but ca

Kate started at that. She barely heard her father rehearsing all the compelling reasons why Lincoln would make a good king. She could only think that, had Fate arranged things differently, she might have been queen of England, seated beside John on his future throne. John II, he would be; given the example of the first King John, it was not the most auspicious of styles – yet her John would cause the name to ring with renown, she had no doubt of it.

‘A wise choice, Sire,’ her husband said. ‘The noble Lincoln has the mettle for it.’

‘Aye, indeed,’ the King agreed, watching Kate speculatively for a moment. She caught his eye and lowered her gaze. ‘And now you must make haste,’ he said. ‘You have a long journey ahead of you.’ His voice sounded strained. He was feeling this parting as keenly as she was.

The Queen came, wine was brought, and they all drank a toast to a bright future for Kate and William, and the confounding of the King’s enemies. Then Kate summoned a page to bring in the parting gift she had commissioned for her father: a framed portrait of herself, very fine and like, wearing the beautiful blue gown she had worn for his coronation and her diamond-shaped pendant. He gazed at it in admiration, then a sad smile creased his face.

‘You could not have given me anything better,’ he told her. ‘Now I shall have a daily reminder of you to take wherever I go. Thank you.’ He kissed her lightly on the forehead.

At last, with the goblets drained, and Kate grateful for the warming wine ru

‘God go with you, my daughter,’ A

Richard folded Kate tightly in his arms. ‘You are most precious to me,’ he murmured. ‘I pray Our Lady to have you in her special keeping.’ She felt him tremble as he said it, and when he broke away from her, she could see he was near to weeping.

‘Love my daughter well, son Herbert!’ he commanded briskly.

‘Your Grace may be assured of that,’ William declared, taking Kate’s hand and kissing it. As he led her from the chamber, she felt choked, and could not bear to look back at those two forlorn figures in black, standing bereft before their chairs of estate, surrounded by all the empty trappings of majesty.