The Shadow of the Pomegranate (7 page)

She went back to the luxurious house where she lived with her rich husband.

He watched her with a certain sadness in his eyes. To him she was like some gorgeous bird which had fluttered into the cage he had prepared for her and was now longing to escape.

She was so young and so beautiful, but lately the lines of discontent had begun to appear on her brow.

‘What luck?’ he asked.

‘None. When do I ever have luck? She will not receive me. She will never forgive me for marrying you. I have heard that she thinks I did it to cover up a love affair with Fuensalida. Our Queen cannot understand a noblewoman’s marrying a commoner except to avoid a great scandal. Fuensalida was of a family worthy to match my own.’

‘And I am a vulgar commoner,’ sighed Grimaldi.

Francesca looked at him, her head on one side. Then she smiled and going to him she took his head in her hands and laid her lips lightly on the sparse hair. She loved power and he gave her power over him. He would do anything to please her.

‘I married you,’ she answered.

He could not see her mouth, which had twisted into a bitter line. I married him! she thought. And in doing so I brought about my exile from the Court. It was so easy to offend. She
thought of the frivolous Anne Stafford who was hoping – so desperately hoping – to begin a love affair with the King.

Then she smiled slowly. Such a woman would never keep her place for more than a night or two. Francesca would not place herself on the side of such a woman; and if it was going to be a matter of taking sides there would be another on which she could range herself.

If Katharine were grateful to her, might she not be ready to forgive that unfortunate marriage?

Katharine was on her knees praying with her confessor, Fray Diego Fernandez, and the burden of her prayer was: Let me bear a son.

Fray Diego prayed with her and he comforted her. He was a young man of strong views and there had been certain rumours, mainly circulated by his enemies, the chief of whom was the ambassador Fuensalida with whom he had clashed on more than one occasion; and another was Francesca de Carceres who had been convinced, first that he was preventing her returning to Spain and, now that she was married and exiled from Court, that he was preventing her being received again.

The pugnacious little priest was the kind to provoke enemies; but Katharine trusted him; indeed in those days, immediately before her marriage, when she had begun to despair of ever escaping from the drab monotony of Durham House, and had discovered the duplicity of her duenna, Doña Elvira and the stupidity of her father’s ambassador, Fuensalida, she had felt Fray Diego to be her only friend.

Katharine was not likely to forget those days; her memory
was long and her judgement inflexible. If she could not forgive her enemies, she found it equally difficult to forget her friends.

Fuensalida had been sent back to Spain; Francesca had proved her treachery by deserting her mistress and escaping to marriage with the banker; but Fray Diego remained.

She rose from her knees and said: ‘Fray Diego, there are times when I think that you and Maria de Salinas are the only part of Spain that is left to me. I can scarcely remember what my father looks like; and I have almost as little esteem for our present ambassador as I had for his predecessor.’

‘Oh, I do not trust Don Luis Caroz either, Your Grace,’ said the priest.

‘I cannot think why my father sends such men to represent him at the English Court.’

‘It is because he knows his true ambassador is the Queen herself. There is none who can do his cause more good than his own daughter; and none more wise or understanding of the English.’

Katharine smiled tenderly. ‘I have been blessed in that I may study them at the closest quarters . . . singularly blessed.’

‘The King is full of affection towards Your Grace, and that is a matter for great rejoicing.’

‘I would I could please him, Fray Diego. I would I could give him that which he most desires.’

‘And is there any sign, Your Grace?’

‘Fray Diego, I will tell you a secret, and secret it must be, for it is as yet too soon to say. I believe I may be pregnant.’

‘Glory be to the saints!’

She put her fingers to her lips. ‘Not a word, Fray Diego. I could not endure the King’s disappointment should it not be so. You see, if I told him he would want to set the bells ringing;
he would tell the entire Court . . . and then . . . if it were not so . . . how disappointed he would be!’

Fray Diego nodded. ‘We do not wish Caroz to prattle of the matter.’

‘Indeed no. Sometimes I wonder what he writes to my father.’

‘He writes of his own shrewdness. He believes himself to be the greatest ambassador in the world. He does not understand that Your Grace prepared the way for him. He does not know how you continually plead your father’s cause with the King.’

‘I do not see it as my father’s cause, Fray Diego. I see it as friendship between our two countries. I would have perfect harmony between them, and I believe we are working towards it.’

‘If Caroz does not ruin everything, it may well be. He is such an arrogant man that he does not know that Your Grace’s father sent him to England because he had sufficient wealth to pay his own way.’

‘Ah, my father was always careful with the gold. He had to be. There were so many calls upon it.’

‘He and the late King of England were a pair. The King, your husband, is of a different calibre.’

Katharine did not say that her husband’s extravagance sometimes gave her anxiety; she scarcely admitted it to herself. Henry VII had amassed a great fortune, and once his successor had had a surfeit of pleasure he would shoulder his responsibilities and turn his back on it. Katharine often remembered his behaviour when the people had robbed him of his jewellery so unexpectedly; and she believed that when he was in danger he would always know how to act. He was a boy as yet – a boy who had escaped from a parsimonious
upbringing. He would soon grow tired of the glitter and the gold.

Fray Diego went on: ‘Your Grace, Francesca de Carceres was at the Palace today, hoping for an audience.’

‘Did she ask it?’

‘She did and I told her that Your Grace had expressed no desire to see her. She abused me, telling me that it was due to me that you had refused, that I had carried evil tales about her. She is a dangerous woman.’

‘I fear so. She is one who will always scheme. I do not wish to see her. Tell her I regret her marriage as much as she evidently does; but since she made it of her own free will I should admire her more if she were content with the station in life which she herself chose.’

‘That I will do, Your Grace.’

‘And now, Fray Diego, I will join my ladies. And remember I have not even told Doña Maria de Salinas or Lady Elizabeth Fitzwalter of my hopes.’

‘I shall treat it as a secret of the confessional, Your Grace; and I shall pray that ere long the whole Court will be praying with me that this time there may be an heir who lives.’

Francesca de Carceres was furiously angry as she left the Palace. She had always hated Fray Diego Fernandez but never quite so much as she did at this time. She had persuaded herself that it was due to his influence that Katharine would not receive her; and she decided to seek the help of the Spanish ambassador, Don Luis Caroz.

This was not difficult to arrange, because her husband transacted business for Caroz as he had done for Fuensalida,
and the ambassador was a frequent visitor to the Grimaldi household.

So on his very next visit Francesca detained him and told him that she had news of an intrigue which was taking place at Court and of which she felt he should not be kept in ignorance.

She then told him that she believed that the King was either conducting, or preparing to conduct, a love affair with Lady Huntingdon.

The ambassador was horrified. It was essential to Spanish interests that Katharine should keep her influence with the King, and a mistress could mean considerable harm to those interests.

‘The affair must be stopped,’ he said.

‘I doubt whether it has begun,’ answered Francesca. ‘The King has been a faithful husband so far, in spite of temptations; but I think he is eager to subdue his conscience and take a mistress. I believe therefore that we should take some action . . . quickly. The Queen will not see me. Could you approach her, tell her that I have discovered this and am sending the news to her through you? You might hint that if she would see me I could tell her more.’

The ambassador shook his head. ‘It would be dangerous to approach the Queen. We cannot be sure what action she would take. She might reproach the King, which could have disastrous results. Nay, this woman has a sister who is in the service of the Queen. We will approach the sister, Lady Fitzwalter. She will almost certainly call in the help of her brother the Duke and I am sure that the proud Staffords would not wish their sister to become the mistress even of the King. They will doubtless realise that the relationship with this rather foolish woman would be of short duration.’

Francesca was silent. She did not see how this was going to help her win the Queen’s favour, which was her sole object; but she had grown wise since making her fatal mistake. Her most powerful friend was the ambassador, and if she wished to keep his friendship she must fall in with his wishes.

‘You are right,’ she said at length. ‘The important thing is to prevent the Queen from losing her influence over the King.’

Caroz smiled slowly. ‘I think you might ask for an audience with Lady Fitzwalter. Tell her what you know. We will then watch how the Staffords receive the news. If things do not work out as we wish, we might take other action.’

‘I shall do exactly as you say,’ Francesca assured him.

He answered: ‘You are a good friend to Spain, Doña Francesca.’

She felt more hopeful than she had for a long time. Perhaps previously she had been wrong to count so much on getting an audience with the Queen. She must work her way back through more devious paths. The Spanish ambassador might even report to Ferdinand her usefulness. It was possible that Katharine’s father would command his daughter to take such a useful servant of Spain back into her service.

Edward Stafford, third Duke of Buckingham, looked at his elder sister in dismay which was quickly turning to anger.

Buckingham’s dignity was great. Secretly he believed that he was more royal than the King himself, for the Tudor ancestry could not bear too close a scrutiny; but the Staffords had royal blood in their veins and the present Duke could never forget that he was directly descended from Edward III.

Buckingham was a member of the King’s most intimate
circle, but Henry had the Tudor’s suspicion of any who had too close a connection with the throne, and would never have the same affection for the Duke as he had for men like Sir William Compton.

In spite of his ambition Buckingham could not overcome his pride. Because he himself could never forget his royal descent he could not help making others aware of it on every conceivable occasion. Often his friends had warned him to beware; but Buckingham, although being fully conscious of possible danger, could not curb his arrogance.