Falling For Henry (24 page)

“Katherine!” called Doña Elvira finally after an hour had passed. “Prince Henry has summoned you and you'd best get up and wash your face.”

“I don't care,” she muttered. “I'm not going to see him today.”

“Katherine!” Doña Elvira came in and sat on the side of the bed. “I'm not sure what game you think you are playing, but your job is to make Henry happy. Your only job. His good friend has just died and he needs you now more than ever. Please, my dear, show some compassion and go to him.”

Kate woodenly did as she was told and went out to meet the Prince. Side by side, they silently walked through the castle gates and westward along the Thames. Kate could tell that William's death had touched Henry deeply.

At the water's edge, they saw oarsmen in their green Tudor livery, rowing Princess Mary in one of the state barges. Beyond that, they could see tall masted ships putting out to sea. An ache in Kate's throat prevented her from speaking and, finally, it was the Prince who broke the silence.

“My brother Arthur died when I was eleven,” he said, “and then my mother when I was twelve. It sometimes feels as if people I get close to are only meant to leave me.”

Kate looked at him and saw that his eyes were full of tears.

“And, of course, my little brother Edmund who died when I was nine. I used to carry him around in a sling. He was only a year old. He had the most cunning white-blond curls. I used to wind them around my finger. And then Edward, the baby who died with Mother. All around me, death. Death,” he whispered.

There was nothing Kate could say. Her heart was suddenly cold. She understood his grief but she couldn't give him the comfort he wanted.

“My Father the King chooses that I should ride from here tomorrow,” the Prince continued. “If others become sick, you shall go to Fulham, and Doña Elvira and your ladies shall accompany you.”

Kate nodded.

“I loved him well, old William,” the Prince said bitterly. “He was a good friend, a loyal companion. True until the last.”

I loved him, too! Kate wanted to cry. What had begun as friendship had deepened, although she hadn't let herself pay attention. Now it was too late. William would never know how she felt. Hard as it was to lose him, she knew with certainty that it would have been better to realize her love while there was still time to share it. Not that she was free to make any choices regarding her life. The road ahead unfolded according to plan, and she shivered at the knowledge of what her life held. The hints Henry had given her about the Tower and what happened to people who crossed the Crown had not gone unnoticed. In fact, she had been dwelling on them often of late, as she had been dwelling on his quick temper and the unjust way he sometimes treated others.

An idea suddenly came to her that brought some comfort. She couldn't bring William back, just as she could not bring back her own father, but maybe she could intervene with the Prince about William's father. She swallowed hard and very carefully chose her words.

“I am aware that the one thing William wanted was to free his father,” she began slowly, “who he was certain had committed no treason but was unjustly imprisoned. Do you think there's a chance of his father's release?”

The Prince looked at her in surprise.

“Well, it's just been a matter of time,” he said. “My father the King now believes there was little wrongdoing and he has been waiting for the right moment to free the prisoner.”

“I think the right moment is now,” said Kate. “This is how you could show your love for William, if you gave his father the freedom he deserves!”

“Perhaps,” said the Prince, touching a hand to his head as if in deep thought. “Perhaps some good could come out of this, if only the release of an old man who is sure to die within the year.”

“Think of the blessing for his family,” said Kate. “To have their father back at a time when they're grieving the loss of a son and brother. Oh, please, if you ever loved your friend, now is the time to show your great compassion and mercy!”

“By St. George! I did love him!” cried the Prince, and Kate saw that he was rising to the bait. “And I could see that the old man is released …” He stepped toward her as if planning an embrace and then stepped back, but for a moment, she saw his eyes glitter as they had before in times of triumph. Everything in his life was a step toward mastery of things: a marriage to further cement England and Spain, a way to show his image as a strong and compassionate monarch. He didn't really care about her or William at all.

“It might be time to show our great power and compassion,” Henry mused. “The people do appreciate sensitivity in the face of death.”

Kate turned away from him. He was not the person with whom she wanted to spend her life. His temper, his ego, his willful nature were faults she had tried to ignore in light of the qualities that had made Katherine love him. Yet she, Kate, pitied him for his failings. How could he help but be anything except what he had been groomed to be—a willful and competent ruler? She pitied him with all her heart but did not love him. Powerless in the face of past, present, and future, she closed her eyes. What was there here for her? What kind of life could she expect?

“The people will appreciate our sensitivity to one of our dearest companions,” Henry repeated, as if trying to convince himself. Kate steeled herself and when she spoke, her voice did not tremble.

“You are wise beyond your years,” she said. “If he had voice to speak his thanks, your friend would be most grateful.”

If William could have seen his father freed, he would have felt such joy. It was what he had set his heart on. A rush of pride carried Kate forward. She no longer felt small and insignificant. She had done something useful for someone else, at last.
The best any of us can wish for is to make good use of the time we have
. A tear spilled onto her cheek and she fervently brushed it off.
And to create joy for others
. It wasn't so hard after all. And for her, it wasn't the end. It was only the beginning. She thought of Willow and of Gran. As if pushing through the dark veil of Katherine's presence, Kate considered all she had left behind and knew it was time to go home. A current of determination ran through her veins.

“I shall not kiss you goodbye,” the Prince went on. “In case any sickness should pass between us.”

Kate nodded again, trying to keep her mind blank so that he could detect nothing from her tone.

“I feel quite well,” she said, trying to sound light. “And I hope that this afternoon we might take the horses and go for a ride, to pass the time until evening when you must make your final preparations for leaving. A ride in the fresh air would be good for us both.”

The Prince contemplated the idea.

“Yes,” he said finally. “A ride this afternoon would be a fine idea. I will meet you at the stables after luncheon. The grooms will have the horses ready.” He seemed to regain his composure and Kate thought he seemed older; she could detect lines around his mouth that signaled an accumulation of more years than he had known. Grief does that to a person, she thought, if you let it.

They returned to the palace and the Prince continued on to his chambers, but Kate turned back toward the old farmyard. It was now or never, she thought, shivering in the sharp wind that had stirred up out of nowhere to sprinkle thin flakes of snow. Kate picked up her pace. It was now or never.

24
Freedom

THE YOUNG WOLF, she saw when she opened the door of the shed, was excited, sensing something new on the breeze. Kate hurriedly led it outside and toward the open country. The fields stretched into woodland and the wolf sniffed at the scents that were wafting on the wind. Kate predicted that it would find rabbits somewhere nearby. Easy prey. She wondered if it would pick up the scent of man and recognize it as the danger it truly was.

Kate shut the door to the coop and when the wolf turned back, sensing a change in atmosphere, it discovered the obstacle. It looked at her for guidance and she beckoned toward the fields and forest.

“Go,” she said. “It's time for you to go!”

Uncomprehending, it took a few steps toward her and then wheeled back toward the coop.

“Go, now!” she said, waving her arms. Then she turned and started walking away. The wolf began to follow but she turned and sent a kick in its direction, an action whose novelty was startling but not fully effective. The wolf retreated for a few steps and then circled back. She turned and continued walking, and once again it followed.

“Get!” she cried, breaking into a run. Then she stopped and picked up a rock, throwing with surprisingly good aim. This time the wolf got the message and pelted through the tall grass toward the distant trees. As it ran, a bolt of energy thrummed through Kate as if she were picking up some frequency usually tuned to the wild things of the forest. She shivered as she reached her arms skyward, sending out words intended as a prayer, although she was unused to such offerings. With the open sky above and unexplored territory stretching ahead, she believed that anything was possible—for herself as well as the wolf. Sweet freedom beckoned! It was time.

Back in her own rooms, Kate excitedly put on the old blue dress and made sure she was wearing the jeans and shoes underneath. She didn't know if she needed these items, but it was better to be safe than sorry. If life were like algebra, you needed to add to one side of the equation exactly what you added to the other. She scratched absentmindedly at the rash that had developed on her back from the nights sleeping on dusty straw ticking and laid out her warm gloves and fur cloak.

There were small loaves of bread for lunch as well as rich turkey soup. Out of necessity, Kate had learned to eat without considering the cleanliness of the kitchen, but she dined in moderation, not wanting to take any more chances than she had to with the possibility of consuming human sweat. Every little while, Doña Elvira rang a dainty bell she kept at her elbow to chase away the large brown rats that edged closer to the table, discolored teeth protruding over their thin lips.

As they were leaving the hall, the Prince appeared and offered to walk Kate to the stables. Doña Elvira nodded approvingly. “Go, have a pleasant ride,” she said.

The black stallion was glad to see the Prince, and joyfully nuzzled at his arm. Henry gave Kate an apple and she knew better than to take a bite. Instead, wondering when in history people had changed their minds about eating raw apples, she fed it to the horse, who whickered gratefully in return.

“We'll ride now,” Henry decided, calling the grooms to ready both steeds. Playing right into my plan, Kate thought steadily.

“All right,” she said. “Maybe we could see that deer you spoke of killing the other day. Is it hanging near the clearing where first we met? After I returned from Fulham Palace, I mean, some weeks ago?”

“The one from last day's hunt has not been hanging nearly long enough,” said Henry. “But I don't doubt that poachers may have interfered with it. It would be wise to go and have a look. It is indeed in my favorite clearing.”

Kate mounted Katherine's dappled pony and it tossed its head anxiously at her touch. Horses are smarter than people, Kate thought, realizing that the gray pony did not sense Katherine any more, now that she had made her final decision. She could feel Katherine's memories trying to thread their way back into favor but she brushed them away. No more dual personalities. It was just her, Kate, that she was fighting for.

The air was chill and mists rose from the ground like great ghosts, making Kate draw her cloak tighter around herself. As they rode along, she all at once thought she saw a shadowy shape slink through the trees, but although she turned quickly, she couldn't catch more than a glimpse of it. Was it the wolf cub? She hoped it would stay out of their way.

Kate didn't say anything to Henry about the wolf; in a flash, however, she knew he must have seen it, too, for as he reached down to grip his bow and quiver, his jaw was tightly clenched. Her heart leaped into her throat and she tried to call out with small talk.

“How big is the deer?” she asked and, after a moment, prattled on. “Was it quite easy to kill? What I mean is, did it put up a fight? You have hunted a lot of deer in these woods.” She was saying anything that came into her head, trying desperately to distract him. “How many have you killed? A hundred? I would guess at least a hundred!”

Before long, they stopped at MacQueen's, the cottage a blurry shadow against a surprisingly white sky. Kate felt a shiver run down her spine when she saw the little man.

“There are still wolves in these woods!” Henry bellowed, and spat at MacQueen's feet. “Ride out with us and you will see, man!”

“I dunnae ken,” whined MacQueen, shifting from foot to foot. “I was sure I'd had them all. But bad luck in these parts has brought back the creeshie bastards.” He cast a bloodshot eye at Kate but said no more.

“Saddle up and ride,” commanded the Prince. “And bring the hounds with you.”

They wheeled around and headed back down the path, and soon MacQueen and six dogs caught up with them. He, too, had a bow and arrow, and Kate could see a knife holstered at his hip. This wasn't part of her plan at all. If she attempted to escape both riders, she'd be an easy mark.

It wasn't long until they found the deer, hung by its heels from the bare branch of a large oak. Its lifeless body gave Kate the chills, so similar was it to the first deer she had seen hanging there—the deer she had seen Henry kill in cold blood. She couldn't help but register discomfort at Henry's glee as he spied it hanging there.
That could be me
, she thought,
hung as a witch
! One of the ropes was loose, and Henry dismounted and stepped around the dead creature, talking quietly to himself as he admired its size, distracted for the moment from any thoughts of wolves.