Prisoner of the Queen (Tales From the Tudor Court) (14 page)

I look
ed to Jane, whose eyes were drifting closed. Her lips were bluish, her skin an eerie pale alabaster.

My throat went dry with fear.
“Jane!” I reached out and shook her shoulder, sighing with great thanks when her eyes popped open.

“Ar
e you well, Kat?” Her voice was worried, her eyes stricken.

I search
ed for something to say. “We are almost there, ’tis all.” I could think of nothing else, and I was sorry to have startled her, but for a moment of panic, I thought she’d left this earth.

Jane smiled, her eyes tired but still holding a teasing glint.
“You are excited, are you not?”

“I confess I am.
‘Twill be a nice reprieve from court. The intrigues and constant need to look over one’s shoulder do pain my conscience at times.”

“As
they should, Kat.” Jane’s face fell slightly, looking sad. “I am sorry ’tis the way of things for you. If only the queen would see you for who you are, and not for what you mean to her throne.”

I nodded and looked down to where my hands were
gathered in my lap. “’Tis not something I shall ever forget, or be free of. The queen would have me remain a maid, for if I were to marry, I would be even more of a threat to her.”

“What makes you think such?” Jane
’s brows furrowed.

“She has told me.”

“The queen must know that you are a most loyal subject. And what of Princess Elizabeth? Does she still bear you ill will?”

“I fear
her opinion of me, Jane. She and my elder sister did most dislike each other as children, and Princess Elizabeth often found Jane to be a usurper to her in many ways before she was even crowned queen. She fears much the same from me, as she did from my sister, and since Jane…” I trailed off, sadness overcoming me, even after all these years.

My friend
laid a cold hand upon my cheek. “I understand. My own sisters, Anne and Margaret, are very close to me. I could not imagine if someone were to take them from me and not of their own choosing.”

“
’Tis a dangerous thing to be born of noble blood.”

“No,
’tis a dangerous thing to play at court, Kat.”

Jane
’s eyes shone with sadness, most likely as she remembered the execution of her own father when she was just eleven and then that of her uncle. I realized then that the executioner’s ax reached so much further than just the neck it touched, but to those who shared the blood and tears of the one condemned. We all suffered when one’s life was laid forfeit to a monarch, and we were all supposed to trust in God that our most gracious majesty was doing the right by us.

But was it righ
t for Queen Mary—God bless her—to burn nearly five hundred God-fearing people because they did not share her beliefs? An acrid reek of burning flesh lingered ceaselessly in the city streets. It was no wonder people whispered, “Bloody Mary,” a name they’d dubbed her, behind their hands. And my sister…who most nobly wrote to Her Majesty begging forgiveness and lamenting that she’d been only a pawn. To have been forgiven and then Her Majesty’s pardon ripped away like a child wanting her toy back. Only the toy was my sister’s life.

And my father…
He had been as much a monkey in the game of plotters as my own pet Stew was in his scheme to steal bananas from Cook. Father had never been very good at planning things, but had gone along with what others told him. It had been obvious to anyone with half a wit that the plan for Jane to be queen had not been an idea of his own making, but Pembroke’s and Northumberland’s—even though he’d executed it.

Tears
pricked my eyes. I must push away these thoughts. I must somehow find a balance in this world.

I pulled back the curtain to see
puddles covering the ground below. While the sky was still a murky gray, the rain had finally stopped, and fingertips of sun tried to pierce the dark clouds. Up the road, behind a low brick wall, was the manor house, candles lit in the windows as the sun had begun to set.

’Twas
ironic that I should come to this place that was once owned by Catherine Parr. My sister Jane visited while in the dowager queen’s care, and now here I was visiting it myself, caring for another.

Just as I was about to
put the curtain back over the window, the sound of a horse and rider barreling up the road caught my attention. I stuck my head out a little farther, bracing for the sting of raindrops upon my face, but none came.

It was a
nobleman, his figure solid and straight upon his horse, wearing a black velvet hat that dipped to the left of his head with bright white plumes and sparkling jewels holding them in place. A short dark beard graced his chin, and above that was a full-lipped wide smile. His aquiline nose was long and straight, and piercing hazel eyes gazed into mine.

A spectacular sight.

He pulled his horse up alongside the window and doffed his cap. Recognition hit, and my stomach did a flip. I’d never seen a man with a more handsome smile or whiter teeth. More than a year had passed since we’d last seen each other. The man had once been my scapegoat, part of a plan made by the duchesses but whom I’d secretly wished was mine in truth—ever since he’d captured my heart on the dance floor of my wedding night to Henry Pembroke.

“My lady,” he said in a deep, smooth voice. He dipped his head in a slight bow, then returned his cap to
atop his curling dark hair. “Lord Beauchamp at your service once again.”

He nudged his horse closer and took one of my hands that rested on the sill of the litter window, pressing my fingers to his lips. Even through my thick lambskin gloves I felt the heat of his lips on my skin. A tingling sensation
wound its way up my arm, into my chest and through my body until it settled in my stomach. I let out my breath slowly, so he couldn’t tell that I’d been holding it. The rogue! The twinkling of his dark eyes conveyed he knew just how his chivalric gesture affected me, and he took pleasure in it. It would appear that our courtship just might pick up again. With that realization, anticipation flooded me.

“
May I have the pleasure of escorting you along your way?”

From behind, Jane snorted and
stuck her head out the window. “My goodness, Beau, can we not enter the manor before you try to seduce my dear friend?”

Her voice was filled with teasing, and loving affection, and while she ribbed her brother, she also afforded him
her approval of our flirtation. I found it to be very Jane of her.

“
Ah, but her beauty has bewitched me. I long to know dear Lady Katherine better.”

H
eat crept into my cheeks, and I bit the inside of my cheek to calm my racing nerves. I recalled vividly the outrageous way he’d flirted with me at my farce of a wedding to Henry. How I’d dreamed Lord Beauchamp was my groom.

“I thank you, my Lord Beauchamp, it is a pleasure
to see you again, and your sister is so very fond of you.”

“And
I am so very fond of her.” He spoke of Jane but smiled at me.

My breath caught in my throat as I took in his me
aning. Years had gone by since we’d danced at my wedding—five, in fact, and he was a man grown now, and I a woman. We’d passed each other at court, but there had been no reason for further conversation, much to my disappointment. I flushed. I’d thought him handsome before, but now…he nearly took my breath away. I fidgeted with my gown. What would I say? What would I do? I glanced down at his horse’s hooves, suddenly overwhelmed with shyness.

Nothing had ever come of
the Duchess of Somerset claiming we were betrothed so my marriage to Henry could not have been legal. From that moment on, Queen Mary had approved of our courtship, but a marriage offer had never been made or accepted, and he’d been abroad the last year, our connection severed. Now here he was again.

Was there cause to believe we might have a future together? The queen and both of our mothers had approved before. Now that we were of an age to marry and produce heirs, would they still approve? Dear God above, could I hope for such a fate? Beau was more handsome than I remembered, age having given him more distinct, masculine, sensual features.

Time appeared to stand still, and when from the corner of my eye I saw Jane turn her gaze from Beau to me, the moment was lost. The flames within my cheeks could not have gotten any hotter. Beau’s grin grew wider.

“We shall see you at
the house, brother.” With that, Jane slammed the curtain shut and then broke into a fit of coughing.

The banter had been too much for her.

When her breath returned, she said, “You are in love with Beau, are you not?” Her brow rose toward me in challenge, and I was taken aback by her abrupt candidness.

“I am
…fond of him,” I said, pretending to swipe away a piece of lint on my gown. My skirts were damp, and I could feel curls pulling loose from my hood and pushing their way outside of my headdress to lie against my forehead and cheeks. I must have looked a fright in front of Lord Beauchamp. No wonder he’d smiled.

Jane reached over and gripped my hand. “You look very beautiful, Kat. My brother saw beyond the
windblown hair and soggy gown. Trust me. He only had eyes for your lips and your fiery gaze.”

I chuckled at Jane. “So, he is not unlike any other man then?”

“Indeed, my darling companion, indeed. I do believe my mother invited him to Hanworth after the queen gave permission for you to accompany me.”

“Is that so?” My mind started to crank, the wheels turning, and thoughts of marriage came to the surface once more.

Jane nodded. “She sought your mother’s approval, I’m sure.”

I licked my lips nervously
, and my heart beat rapidly. A small smile started at the corners of my lips and then grew wide. Excitement cascaded through me. My time at Hanworth House was already proving to be quite invigorating to my spirit.

“My lady, Her Grace has requested your presence in the great hall.”

I nodded to the maid who
’d delivered the message. With shaky hands, I wiped tendrils of hair that had fallen loose away from my face, tucking them awkwardly back into my hood. We’d arrived at Hanworth some hours ago and taken much-needed rest.

“Are you in need of assistance?” the young maid asked.

While I’d lain abed wondering what this trip would bring about, Mrs. Helen had gone to make her acquaintance with the household servants, which always made our stays at various homes much smoother.

I licked my lips nervously. “No, I am ready. Will Lady Jane be joining me?”

“No, my lady, she is still abed and has begged her mother’s pleasure to stay there.”

I nodded my understanding and took a step toward the door, somewhat unnerved by how unsteady my legs were.
Seeing the duchess wasn’t so much what had my nerves acting up. No, it was Beau. Would he be there? What would we say to one another?

I smoothed my flawless skirt for the hundredth time, counted the drop pearls at my waist
. “Will you find my companion, Mrs. Helen, and inform her I’ve been called to the great hall?”

“Indeed, my lady.” The maid curtsied and hurried down the corridor in the opposite direction.

Moderately calmer, I descended the curving stair. Voices and music drifted from the great hall, along with the delicious scents of roasted meat and freshly baked bread. My stomach growled loudly, and I realized I had not eaten yet today—an affliction often affecting me. My face heated at the sound of my stomach protesting the lack of food, even though I was alone. I paused at the foot of the stairs. Perhaps, I had better go to the kitchens and pluck a small roll from Cook to calm my belly.

“Lady Katherine, will you not join us?” Beau
’s voice interrupted my contemplation.

I jerked my gaze up to see him lounging in the doorway to the great hall, his crooked smile directed at me.

“I thought I heard you approach, but you did not enter,” he said.

Heat filled my cheeks.
“My lord, my apologies, I was just thinking about something.”

“Care to share?”
He grinned, his countenance welcoming and I wanted nothing more than to confide in him. But I could not.