The Forbidden Queen (92 page)

Alice sniffed and wiped away her tears. ‘What if Gloucester insists that you dismiss him?’

The answer was there, before me. I had never fought for anything in my life, but I would fight for my right to be fulfilled at the side of the man I loved. For the first time in my life I felt a surge of power. In this one crucial battle I would not be dictated to or manipulated by the ambitions of another.

‘I will not dismiss him,’ I said quietly, startled to hear the pride in my voice. ‘He is an exceptional man. I will not give him up. I am Queen Dowager. I am Queen Mother: how can Gloucester force me to dismiss servants from my own household? I will not. I will not live without him.’

Alice scowled, then smiled bleakly through the tears. ‘If I were young again and unwed, neither would I.’

Not once had we mentioned his name between us, but it lay like a blessing in my heart.

Alone again, with Alice’s words stark in my mind—
I see no happiness for you in this
—as was unfortunately my nature I was not so sanguine.

I am carrying your child
.

I imagined saying it to Owen, and quailed.

‘What will we do?’ I had asked Alice before she had left me, but she had lifted her hands helplessly.

‘I don’t know. I have no advice to give.’

A liaison with a servant of your own household. A man who has no breeding, no income, no status…

My throat was dry with apprehension but I rose, dressed in a favourite emerald velvet with miniver cuffs, all worked with gold knot-work, and sent Thomas off to arrange a meeting with Owen in the audience chamber, the scene of our first charged acknowledgement of what we meant to each other.

With Guille in attendance to give me decorous company, I was there before he arrived, seated on one of the stools generally occupied by petitioners who came to ask for royal intervention, aware of the same watchful audience of stitched feral eyes. I stood as he entered and waved Guille to the far side of the room to stand against the leafy forest. Even if she overheard, it would not matter. She would know soon enough.

I thought he looked more than a little severe, formally and richly clad as he was, complete with chain of office, for Young Henry was expected to dine with me. But when
he saw me, when he stood from his habitual show of courtesy, his mouth was soft. I resisted blurting out my news but held my tongue, heart thudding against my ribs. What would he say? What would any man say, receiving this awkward confession? All my inner certainty was in danger of leaching away.

‘You have a request, my lady?’

‘Merely to speak with you. Don’t mind Guille,’ as he glanced in her direction. ‘Her loyalty is not to be questioned.’

He moved to stand before me, not to touch me but to survey my face as if he might read all he wished to know there. And he smiled at last, as if a weight had fallen from him.

‘You look restored.’

His beautiful voice washed over me, calming me, restoring my earlier knowledge of what I wanted, what was right. ‘I am.’

‘Before you fell I thought you looked strained and sad.’ His voice was suddenly ragged. ‘Before God, Katherine, I have been torn apart, not knowing, not being able to come to you.’

‘I was sad, but no longer.’ I touched his sleeve. ‘I heard that it was you who carried me to my room. I did not know what was real and what was in my mind.’

He lifted my hand and kissed it. ‘You fell at my feet.’

‘Then that was fortunate.’

‘I hope your maid is discreet. I can no longer be discreet.’

Before he could take me into his arms, for that was clearly his intent, I stopped him, my hand pressed against his chest.

‘Owen…’ I arranged and rearranged the simple words. And finally I stated them baldly. ‘I am carrying your child. That is why I fell.’

His face paled, eyes darkened, all movement suspended. And then he slowly allowed his arms to fall.

‘Owen…’ I whispered.

But he swung away from me, to stride to the windows that ran along one side, away from the vivid forest, the hunted and the huntsmen. He did not stare down into the Inner Ward, as I expected. Instead, he turned his back to the fast-scudding clouds that heralded an approaching storm and looked at me. Still silent, thoughts masked, emotions impossible to read, he simply stood. As I walked slowly forward I could see how shallow his breathing was, how rigid his chain of office lay on his chest so that the gems were dark and opaque. His hands were splayed against the stones of the wall at his back.

‘Are you angry?’ I asked.

‘Yes.’ And as if all his emotions had suddenly re-ignited, he spun from me to drive his fist into the carved window surround. Owen Tudor was no longer my impassive Master of Household. When I placed my hand on his shoulder, I could feel the vibration of his heart beating as hard as mine.

‘Are you angry with me?’ I asked.

‘How could I be?’

But still he did not turn, so I stepped round so that I could witness his profile.

‘You’re scowling,’ I said, hearing the tremble in my voice.

‘I should be whipped for this. I should have known.’ His expression was savage, his tone no less so. ‘What was I thinking, to put my own physical gratification before your safety? Before your reputation?’

‘I am in no danger.’

‘Only from the filth that will be flung at you by the court scandalmongers.’

‘They will fling it at both of us.’

‘You don’t deserve it.’ Now he looked at me, eyes wide, jaw hard clenched. ‘Forgive me, Katherine. Forgive me, forgive me for my wretched selfishness. If I had loved you less, it would never have come to this. If I had loved you more, I would never have touched you.’

I had no difficulty in replying. ‘But if you had never touched me, I would have died from longing.’ I tried to smile as I leaned to kiss his cheek, but he stepped back, away, hands raised against me.

‘How much I have hurt you.’

‘But do you not want this child?’ I asked. ‘A child born out of our love?’

He inhaled sharply, so that now the gems deep set in his chain gleamed balefully in the stormy light.

‘Can you ask me that? How would I not desire a child of your blood and mine? But this is no perfect world where we can choose. I have cast you into a maelstrom.’ His gaze pierced mine, precise as a dagger. ‘And do you know the worst thing?’ he demanded. ‘I don’t know how to put it right for you.’

But I did. There it was, newborn in my mind, as clear and tempting as a sparkling pool for a thirsty traveller, sweeping away all my irresolution.

‘I do,’ I said. ‘I
know
.’ I was so certain, I who had never been certain in her life. ‘I know how to put it right for both of us.’

‘Nothing I can do will.’

I did not hesitate. ‘Wed me, Owen.’

If the air had been charged before, now it screamed with tension.

‘Wed me, Owen.’ I repeated, my words crossing the divide.

‘Wed you?’

‘Is marriage so distasteful to you?’ His thoughts were awry so I drove on, even if it would increase the pain of his refusal if he could not tolerate it. ‘Or is it marriage to me that you balk at?’

And as he flung wide his arms, I saw the blood, along the knuckles of his right hand, beginning to drip to the floor, the skin scraped from flesh along the stonework. Showing me, if I was not already aware, just how close to the edge of control he was.

‘Your hand,’ I said in distress, reaching out to him.

‘To Hell with my hand!’ He took another step back from me. ‘You consider that marriage to me would solve all your problems? To shackle a Valois princess to a penniless servant will make a bad situation even more sordid.’

‘Sordid? I won’t accept that. I do not consider my situation—as you describe it—to be sordid. Do I not love you? Your position in my household can be redeemed instantly.’

‘But my race cannot. God’s Blood! Do you know what it is like for a man to be branded
Welsh
?’

‘No.’ How would I? I was ignorant of all Welshmen, apart from Owen.

‘Of course you don’t. It is a monstrosity of injustice, of bloody vengeance that has wilfully brought about the destruction of Welsh pride, of all our heritage and tradition. Of our rights before the law.’

It still meant little to me. Why would this deter him from marriage? I could not understand the rage that lit his face with such rampant power. In spite of everything, all I could think was that he was magnificent in his anger.

‘I have nothing to offer you, Katherine,’ he continued. ‘Nothing at all.’

‘Why would you need to offer me anything? I don’t need material things. I have my own properties—’

‘Katherine!’ He silenced me, one hand raised, his voice dropping to make a harsh, even statement. ‘That’s what makes it so much worse. You have a queen’s dower, while I…’ He scrubbed his hands over his face, leaving a smear
of blood along his jaw. ‘I have too much pride to take you with nothing to give in return.’

My heart wept for this proud man, but I summoned all my courage to reply as evenly as I could. ‘Why is pride so important? Is it stronger than love?’ I asked. ‘I want to be with you. If we were wed, then there would be no impediment. Will you allow pride to stand in our way?’ And I was astounded when my question rekindled the wrath.

‘By God, I will. I am a servant under your command, and yet I have the blood of Llewellyn the Great in my veins. I lay claim to the same blood as the mighty Owain Glyn Dwr. Yes, I am a proud man.’

‘Is that good? The blood of these men?’ I had never heard of Llewellyn or of Owain Glyn Dwr. I could barely pronounce them.

‘You don’t even know!’ His answering laugh was savage but he did not mock me. ‘They are the best, the finest names. Princes of our people, leading the Welsh to glory in battle, until defeat at the hands of the damned English.’

His impassioned words puzzled me. ‘If you are so well born, connected to this Llewellyn the Great, why do you serve me?’

‘Because the law has robbed me of all hope of making anything other of my life. God forgive me, Katherine—but I should never have taken you to my bed so thoughtlessly.’

‘I thank God that you did.’ My mind was already racing along, abandoning this Welsh hero Glyn Dwr and my
lover’s pride. One thought—one thought alone—clung with sharp claws. ‘You say that you are without any means at all.’

‘Exactly that. Do you know what you pay me?’

‘No.’

‘Forty pounds a year. And the provision of clothing so that I might make a good impression on your guests. That would be the value of your husband, Katherine. It is not to be thought of.’

‘I think it is perfect. The perfect choice for me.’

‘It is a travesty.’

This time it was I who called a halt by the simple expedient of stepping forward two paces and placing my fingers across his lips.

‘Any man who risks marriage with me will suffer the confiscation of everything he owns. No man of wealth or land will look at me. But you do.’ I smiled at him, willing him to understand. ‘You look at me and you have nothing to be stripped from you. You have nothing. You cannot be punished.’ I held out my hands to him, my mind suddenly full of the possibilities. If only I could persuade this obstinate man. ‘Do you not see, Owen? There will be no retribution, because you have nothing.’

He did not respond enough to take my hands, but I watched as he followed my line of argument.

‘I cannot do it, Katherine.’

‘Why not? I love you. We have made a child together. Here we have a chance of being together. The only reason
I can see for you not wanting me is if you do not love me enough. And if that is so, then you must tell me now.’

I waited, my heart in my mouth. I had not considered that, faced with marriage, he might retract his words of commitment to me. Had I misread the depths of his love?

‘If you wait before you tell me,’ I warned him, ‘it will break my heart so much more. Do you not love me, Owen? Was this idyll merely a product of lust on your part? I can accept that but I won’t accept that your pride should stand between us.’

No, I could not accept it at all.

‘Lust? By the Rood, Katherine! Is that what you think of me?’

‘I might, unless you tell me otherwise.’

Still I waited. The decision was his and he must make it alone. At last the air moved between us, and Owen took my hands lightly in his, breathing deeply to disperse his wrath.

‘You know that I love you,’ he stated, every contour of his face finely etched in the strange glimmering light. ‘You are with me until I fall asleep. While I sleep you never leave me. And when I awake I see your face in my mind before even I see the light of day.’ His lips curved a little. ‘You are a surprisingly calculating woman, Katherine.’

‘No, I am not,’ I said seriously. ‘But I have learned that I must fight for what I want. And I want this so much. If I have to be calculating and wilful and manipulative,
then I will. Wed me, Owen. Give my child your name, as he deserves.’

‘Gloucester might punish you. Have you thought about that?’

‘I have. We might both be punished. But if we are wed in the sight of God, what can Gloucester and the Council do to us? I defy Gloucester to make scandal where the Queen Dowager is concerned, and I think if I appealed to Bedford, he would not stand against us.’ Confidence blossomed as Owen finally drew me into his arms. He was still thinking, still stubborn, but I was now sure of my ground.

I spoke, my fingers spread wide on his breast. ‘If you do not marry me, Owen, they will make me take the veil and my child—our child—will be taken from me.’ And I used the last weapon in my armoury. ‘I don’t think I could forgive you if you allowed your pride to enclose me in a nunnery for the rest of my life and cause our child to be brought up without knowledge of either of us.’

His mouth twisted in bitter self-deprecation. ‘Who am I but a disenfranchised Welshman, beaten and despised by his English victors? Who am I to wed a Queen?’

I did not understand ‘disenfranchised’ so ignored it. ‘A Queen who has never known love. If you love me, you will wed me.’

The planes of his face flattened in near despair. ‘Oh, Katherine! Unfair!’