“I swear I will, by all that is holy” was his earnest response. He wrapped his arms around her, and they fell asleep, content in their closeness.
As the cock crowed, refreshed by their sleep, they again consummated their passion. Kate was delighted by Richard’s willingness to please her, and he brought her to pinnacles she could not have imagined in her daydreams about love and lust. How wrong Mother was, she thought. How sad she never knew how wonderful this could be.
While Richard was sorting out his clothes, Kate told him of Edward’s expression when George and Warwick had been so cosy the night before.
“’Tis strange you should notice, Kate, for that was the very subject Edward wished to discuss with me and which kept me from you. Edward fears the earl may influence George the wrong way, if the rift between them widens. He was anxious to know where I stand with Warwick, too. ’Twas a difficult conversation.”
“But how could any man turn against his brother? Surely you do not believe George would be disloyal to his brother—to his king?”
She was dismayed at the coldness in Richard’s voice when he answered her. “Oh, Kate, you are an innocent in the ways of ambitious men. They would turn against their mothers if it meant more power. If ever a man should turn his coat on me, I would dispatch him without pity, I swear to you,” he said vehemently. “Then there are those men who sit upon the fence and wait to see which way the wind blows. And those men I detest above all others.” Richard’s whisper had become a rasp. “For they are worse than cowards!”
“Richard! You frighten me, my love.” Kate got out of bed and went to his side. “Where did you learn such anger, such hate?”
“’Tis born in you when you are a member of the noble class, Kate. Cousin hating cousin, brother fighting brother. You hear of it at your mother’s breast, at your father’s knee. You can never forget it, for you know one day you will have to use it—and maybe against your own family.”
Muffled voices from the next room interrupted them, and Kate put her arms about Richard and calmed him. He moved away from her and hurriedly dressed. She was hurt when he left with only a curt bow. She sat down on the bed and tried to reconstruct the conversation that had taken such a wrong turn. Margaret’s cheerful voice from behind the curtain broke her reverie, and she bade her friend enter. Margaret’s smile faded when she saw Kate’s troubled face.
“Why, Kate. Is there something wrong? ’Twas hard not to notice Richard slipping from your chamber, but we pretended we saw nothing. Did you quarrel, and why?”
“Nay, Margaret, we did not quarrel. I think Richard has much to concern him, and he was reminded of it by something I said. ’Tis hard for me to see him so troubled and sometimes so angry, but fear not, it has naught to do with me,” Kate responded, with a small smile. “Tell me, what is in store for us today?”
THE COURT GATHERED in the field behind the abbey garden for an archery contest. Jousting and sword fights were to follow with rebated weapons, for no one wished for mortal combat during these merry celebrations. Kate watched proudly as Richard let fly shaft after shaft into the target at the other end of the field. George stood next to him, and a lively competition between the two brothers began to pique the interest of the spectactors. Soon wagers were being made, and Edward suggested his siblings next fight it out with short swords. George stood half a head taller than Richard and had the longer reach, so many of the spectators put their money on him. But in swordplay, speed and brute strength often counted more. Kate hardly recognized Richard in his armor: He looked imposing and warlike, not at all like the youthful figure who had lain with her the night before. But Kate had not failed to notice his well-developed sword arm, which made the other arm look like a boy’s in comparison, and she remembered Jack saying Richard could hold his own with a weapon. She was standing near the earl of Warwick, who was tossing a gold coin in the air as he spoke to another man.
“I have not seen Clarence fight, William, but I am putting my money on young Richard. There is a determination in the lad and a seriousness about his skill with a sword that has won praise from the marshal at Middleham. And the marshal is a hard-headed Scot who does not toss compliments lightly,” Warwick remarked to his companion.
As he turned slightly to catch a misjudged throw of the coin, he saw Kate looking at him. He sauntered over to her, and she effected a graceful enough curtsy on the uneven field.
“Good morrow, mistress. I beg pardon, I have forgot your name, but ’twas you who sang for us last night, was it not?”
“Aye, my lord, it was. And my name is Katherine Haute, sir.” She gave him an appraising look. The hawk nose had a few hairs sprouting from the end and one eyelid drooped lazily, but otherwise he was a handsome man, she thought. She waited for him to speak. This was not someone with whom she would dare to be bold.
“Have you placed your money yet, Kate Haute? If you will take my advice, you will wager on the duke of Gloucester,” he said amiably. “I have it on good authority he will beat his brother handily.” Kate understood Richard’s dilemma more than ever. The earl was cordial and not as arrogant as she had first supposed.
“If ’tis your advice, my lord, who am I to gainsay it. How do I place my wager?”
“Give it to me and I will place it for you, madam.” Kate removed a noble from her purse and gave it to him. “Now, stand here and watch our lad win.”
He strode off in the direction of the gaily festooned tent that had been set up in the corner of the field, and Kate edged forward in the crowd to see Richard fight.
“’Twill be an interesting match,” she overheard a man say to his wife. “’Tis said the two brothers have not met in combat before. I like not Gloucester’s chances. Clarence has the advantage.”
The two brothers circled each other cautiously, both heads covered in chain mail with bucklers on their left arms. Their swords glinted in the morning sun, and their armor clanked as they moved. Clarence suddenly charged and attempted to strike the first blow, but Richard’s sword went up and parried it neatly. Clarence was stepping back to regain his footing when Richard sprang forward and delivered a thrust that caught Clarence’s shield with a loud clang. Clarence laughed affably. “Nicely done, Dickon. I see you are no longer just my little brother, but I believe I must teach you a lesson.”
He came at Richard brandishing his sword fiercely, and soon their bodies were interlocked and weapons in a bind. With grim faces and loud grunts they grappled for several minutes, neither getting much leverage. Finally pushing Richard off, Clarence gave him a swift kick to the knee to unbalance him. Then he reversed his sword and grasped the blade with his gauntlet and attempted to punch Richard in the groin. Richard was fast and caught the blow on his buckler. The crowd let out a collective sigh of relief, and several men held a hand to their own codpiece in sympathy. When his blow was deflected, Clarence sprang back to reverse his sword again, and Richard’s riposte caught Clarence’s arm, who grimaced at the blow. Kate covered her eyes and peeked through her fingers, not wishing to miss anything but not wanting to see Richard hurt.
“God’s bones! I should have put my money on the younger,” a large man called from the other side of the circle. The crowd laughed and egged the fighters on. The brothers did not hear as they rushed at each other again and wrestled for the advantage. Their swords were locked at the hilt and each grimly tried to leverage the other away. This time, Richard pushed hard and then stood back, never taking his eyes from Clarence’s face, his feet dancing and ready to move forward again. Clarence was enjoying himself and the attention. He glanced over at the spectactors for a second, and that was all Richard needed. The younger man charged at vain Clarence, who was thrown off balance, his sword knocked from his hand. He landed with an ignominious thud on the ground and fumbled for his fallen weapon, but it was too late. Richard stood over him, grinning, his swordpoint at his brother’s throat.
“Teach me a lesson would you, brother?” he said, as he reached down to grasp George’s arm a
nd pull him to his feet. George was thunderstruck and embarrassed. He threw off the helping hand, picked up his sword and stalked away, the applause for Richard ringing in his ears. Richard stared after him, dismayed.
“Your winnings, madam.” Warwick reappeared beside Kate moments later with several nobles added to her original. “You made a good choice.”
“Certes, my lord,” Kate replied, smiling happily up at him. “Indeed I did.”
THE FAREWELL BANQUET that evening was even more lavish than the previous two. The diners spent four hours sampling the finest fare the royal cooks could concoct. King Edward was making sure his beloved little sister would never forget her last night with her family. Tomorrow she would process to Canterbury and on to Margate, where those sent to attend her would see her safely to Burgundy and her new husband. Jack was to be among them, Margaret told Kate. Kate drank in the scene, wanting to remember every face, every hue of every gown, each tasty morsel of every glorious dish. It was a feast for the eyes as well as for the stomach, she thought. She was convinced she would burst if she put one more crumb in her mouth. Margaret and Jack chattered to each other but did not forget to include her in their conversation, and her heart soared as she basked in their friendship. Across the room sat her lover, quietly enjoying his food and occasionally catching her eye. A thrill of pleasure went through her each time their eyes met, and she looked forward with anticipation to their tryst later that night.
“Good night, Sir John,” a broad-shouldered young man said, as the Howard party made its way to the staircase leading to the upper floors. Jack turned and greeted the man warmly.
“Rob! Rob Percy, by my troth! Why, I have not seen you these two days, sir. Where have you been hiding?” Jack responded, taking Margaret’s elbow and swinging her around. “Margaret, my dear, you have not met Sir Robert Percy of Scotton. Rob, I have the honor to present my wife, Lady Howard.”
Kate turned and smiled when she heard Rob’s name. As she watched the formalities of introduction, she wondered if Rob knew of Richard’s attachment to her. She was aware that in her elaborate hennin, which entirely concealed her hair, and her rich, green-and-gold damask gown, she looked very different from the wild girl in the woods. Rob cast a cursory glance in her direction, and she curtsied demurely. She was disappointed that he did not recognize her.
“And I must present our friend and neighbor, Dame Katherine Haute of Chelsworth.” Jack waved his hand in her direction. “Kate, this brave young man is Sir Robert Percy.”
“Certes!” Rob now exclaimed. “The lady of the forest! I did not know you, forgive me.” He took her hand to kiss. “I wonder if Dickon knows you are here. Richard of Gloucester, you know,” he said by way of explanation to Jack. “Let me see if I can find him. Oh, this is too good! He will not believe this.”
“I am sorry, Percy, but my charges are tired and have a long day on the road tomorrow. Perhaps you can tell his grace of Gloucester of your encounter later. But we are for bed.” Jack diplomatically ended Rob’s search for Richard by bidding him good night, taking the women’s arms and marching them to the stairs. Kate looked back over her shoulder and gave him a helpless smile. He bowed and stood on tiptoe to search over the many heads for Richard.
“I did not know you had made young Percy’s acquaintance, Kate,” Jack was saying as they reached the top of the staircase. “I thought it best not to arouse his suspicion with regard to Richard. His grace the duke has made it plain to me he wants no one to know of his attachment to you. He is the soul of discretion. In truth, I could wish his eldest brother would take a leaf from his book.” He finished his sentence in a whisper, for it was not politic to criticize Edward where ears might be pricked. “Rob Percy is Gloucester’s closest friend, I have heard tell. If anyone knows about you, Kate, ’tis Rob. But he does not. It does my heart good to know there is one royal prince we can trust.”
They were safely inside their small suite by this time, and Kate reached up and kissed Jack on the cheek. “I am certain Richard is happy to know he can trust you, too, Sir John. Thank you. Now a good night to you both.”
Kate and Margaret exchanged embraces, and Agnes followed Kate into the smaller room to help her disrobe, after which Kate dismissed her, saying she would prefer to attend to her own hair. She was still counting the strokes of her comb through the tangle when she felt Richard’s presence behind her. She ran into his arms.
“I was not sure you would come, Richard. I did not know if it was me you were angry with this morning or not. You left so abruptly.”
“A thousand pardons, Kate. Certes, ’twas not you. There is much you cannot understand, and I should not have railed at you so.” He stroked her hair.
“Maybe I understand more than you know,” Kate said, lifting her head and looking at him. “Jack and Margaret have told me much, in truth.”
The gray eyes looked pensive for a moment and then he smiled. “Get into bed and I will reveal all.”
“I hope so!” Kate said, coyly eyeing the length of him from the ground up and disarming him. “But first, let me tell you who I just saw. Your friend Rob Percy. At first, he knew me not. If anyone would know about us, ’twould be Rob. You kept your word, and I love you the more for it!”
Richard rid himself of the last remnant of clothing and pounced on her, causing her to squeak in protest. “Take care, Richard. The babe!” she chided, although her fingers were in his hair and pulling his head to her breasts. “I see conversation must wait a while. So be it.”
They lay talking for hours after satisfying each other’s physical needs. Kate dared to ask if she had really been the first girl he had lain with.
“I told you at Tendring you were, Kate. I did not lie. At Middleham, Rob used to make me go with him to the brothel, but I had no wish for that kind of bedding. I would wait for him in the tavern with my hood pulled over my face for fear of being recognized. Not that anyone would have known me, for I was a stranger in their midst, and they were too far gone in drink to care. Rob would tease me and call me Sir Sanctimonious, but it did seem to me wrong to go poking around when I did not even know the maid’s name.”
Kate chuckled. There was something earnest about Richard that was so endearing. “I am glad, Richard. For they say a man never forgets his first love. No matter how our lives turn out, I think I shall always have a piece of your heart.”
“More than that, Kate. I shall never abandon you or our child.” Richard tightened his arm around the soft body that nestled in it.
Kate had often flirted with the fantasy of being Richard’s wife in those moments before sleep or upon waking, when flights of fancy and private thoughts can attain the unattainable. But in reality, she knew her place and that marriage with a royal duke—if she were free herself—was an impossibility. The phantom woman was always hovering over them, she thought, and she felt bold enough to ask him if her nemesis had a name.
“Do you know who you might marry, Richard?” The tremor in Kate’s voice betrayed the fear behind the simple question. “You are the king’s brother. There can be only a few ladies worthy of you.”
The pause hung over them in the gloom. Kate could have kicked herself for spoiling the moment. Richard sighed and absently plucked at the sleeve of Kate’s chemise. He had hoped she would not be curious, that she would just accept what they had as beautiful but ephemeral. But he did not blame her for being curious. He loved her for her honesty.
“I pray God when the time comes I have some choice in the matter. I would rather a quiet English bride than a prating foreigner. I cannot lie to you, Kate, I have a lady in mind, but the friendship between her father and my brother is like to be broken, and so she may not be available.”
Kate frowned in the darkness. Who could this rival be? She was sure the lady was not among the guests at the abbey, for Richard would not have dared spend his nights with her. She waited to see if Richard would elaborate. He took his time, but then he told her.
“Warwick has two daughters, Isob
el and Anne. ’Tis true they are my cousins, for my mother and their grandfather were sister and brother. The earl told me many times during our conversations at Middleham that he would dearly love to see his daughters wed to George and me. The last time I saw Anne, she was still a child of eleven and was like a little sister to me. ’Twas hard for me to imagine her being my wife. I have a fondness for her, as any brother would, and should the time come, I would not be averse.” He felt her rigid body against his and was remorseful. “But whereas I hold her in some tender corner of my heart, ’tis you who has it wholly, I swear to you.”
“I understand, Richard, truly I do,” Kate said on a sob. Her tears had begun to fall as soon as Anne’s name was mentioned. An unknown was easier to deal with; a person already known to him and yet unknown to her became more real. She prayed that Edward would hate Warwick enough to banish him and his girls to the ends of the earth.
“See, I have hurt you, Kate. I am truly sorry. Come, do not spoil our last night together for something that might not come to pass. And if it does, have you not my word that I would never forget you? Is that good for nothing?” he said, lifting the hem of her chemise and using it to wipe away her tears. In the glow of a single candle he gazed in awe at the smooth skin taut across her swelling belly and rounded thighs.
“God’s love, but you are beautiful, my rose,” he said huskily, and he began to kiss each sweet curve and valley of her. Their passion penetrated her sadness, and soon she gave herself over to his gentle urgings.
For the moment, Anne Neville was forgotten.
15
Suffolk, Winter 1468 to July 1469
Ateam of workers toiled for months over the meticulous dismantling of Kate’s new house. Every timber was duly marked and carefully placed on a pile that would be carted to Tendring. The slates from the roof were passed from hand to hand down the ladders, and the beams taken apart to be built again at the new site. Kate liked to walk across the meadow beside the church to watch and often took the laborers refreshment of ale, cheese and bread. Before the work began, she had received permission from Sir Anthony Wingfield, the landowner, to visit the house. It had a large kitchen on the ground floor with a tiny enclosed staircase that led into the larger and sunnier of two rooms on the upper floor. In this solar, she decided, she would spend much of her day and sleep in her tester bed at night. The other room could be used for spinning and a dispensary.