A Rose for the Crown (89 page)

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Authors: Anne Easter Smith

Tags: #Fiction, #Historical, #Biographical, #Romance, #General

BOOK: A Rose for the Crown
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“Richard, you must stop torturing yourself. Anyone with half a brain and knowledge of the law accepts you as their sovereign. You are twice the man Edward was, for all he was a head taller, because you have compassion along with your intelligence and a willingness to serve your subjects. I know not much about politics, but it seems no king can escape making enemies. By your good example, you will draw people to you as you have always done. I know your qualities, and unless you have changed beyond belief in these past dozen years, there is no doubt in my mind you will be one of England’s greatest kings.”
Richard stared at her. Her few simply expressed words pierced the dark cloak of uncertainty that threatened to smother him and reached through to his heart. They were what he needed to encourage him to soldier on. Anne had expressed almost the same sentiments to him before the coronation, and to hear them reiterated now by someone else so dear to him quickened his pulse and lifted the heavy weight from his shoulders.
“I thank you with all my heart, Kate. You have helped me immeasurably.” He jumped up and strode to the window, running a hand through his hair. He gave a sigh of relief. “Is there anything else you would like to say to me before we have to be public again? I do not believe we shall have another such chance.”
She took the offer. “’Tis none of my business, in truth, but I am curious about your reliance on Henry Stafford, his grace of Buckingham. I trust there are no splinters in his rump. His star is certainly on the rise, thanks to you. It does seem strange that he should appear on the scene now when he was so conspicuously absent from Edward’s court. I learned from Jack Howard that Edward did not care for him. Perhaps there was a reason, and you should be cautious.”
Richard frowned. “Methinks my lord of Norfolk prattles too much. He should be content with his own title and keep his own counsel close. But since you ask, Kate, my cousin of Buckingham has been a true friend to me in this morass. He has supported me and been at my side every step of the way. He is my blood kin, and I am sorely lacking those, especially on the male side of the family. He is an equal, and I am grateful for
his presence and his loyalty. For that I have rewarded him, and, aye, I let him manage the coronation. He discharged his duty well, you must agree. Oh, he is a bit of a buffoon sometimes, certes, but I believe he is good-hearted and loves me true.”
“How well do you know him, Richard? I do not remember you talking about this cousin when we—” she broke off, not finding an apt word to describe their liaison.
“’Tis true, Kate. I never knew the man before he sent me loving letters of support upon Edward’s death, and I do believe our first meeting as adults was on the road to Stony Stratford. But no mind, he is my friend and good counselor now.”
“I hope so, Richard. I truly hope so.” She took his arm and changed the subject. “And now, sir, may I meet our future son-in-law? Your letter, though gratefully received, lacked much a mother needs to know.”
Richard laughed. How was it Kate always put him such good humor? He felt more lighthearted than he had in many weeks. As if the usher on the other side of the door instinctively knew his sovereign’s mind, the door swung open before Richard could put a hand on it. The palace corridors were alive with people hurrying back and forth, but all stopped in their tracks to give obeisance to Richard as he passed. Kate had a brief moment of glory walking with the king as Richard led her to his private apartments.
The first person they encountered in the receiving area was the duke of Buckingham himself, his florid face framed by a profusion of curls and feathers. The hat that held the feathers was jammed down on his head, giving him a clownish appearance. One might mistake him for the king instead of Richard, Kate mused, so rich was his apparel and so covered in jewels his person. He bowed as low as his girth would allow and eyed Kate with interest.
Richard clapped the duke on the shoulder. “Harry, I would present Dame Haute to you. Kate and I are old friends. Kate, this is my friend and cousin Harry Stafford.”
“My lord.” Kate dropped a low curtsy.
“Aha! Richard, you devil. So, this is the mother of your bastards! Where have you been hiding her? I am enchanted to meet you, madam. Kate—you will allow me to call you Kate?”
He took her hand and squeezed it between his heavy yet surprisingly silky hands. Kate was almost tempted to wipe hers on her gown when he let it go. His unctuous manner repelled her, though he was certainly eloquent.
“If it please you, my lord,” she answered him.
“Do not let this costume fool you, Harry. There is naught of the chastened widow about Kate, once you get to know her.” Then Richard said behind his hand, “The first time I met her she told Rob Percy he was a beast.”
“My lord!” a voice called from the other side of the room. “Will you not bring Mistress Haute to see us?”
The bulky Buckingham had blocked Kate’s view, and she had not known the queen was also present. She put her hand to her mouth, hoping Anne had not overheard their conversation, and curtsied low.
“Certes, my dear. Harry here had not yet had the good fortune to make Kate’s acquaintance, but I believe that has now been remedied, would you not agree, Harry?”
Harry grinned. “Aye, sire, it has indeed. Kate, ’twas a pleasure.” He bowed to Richard and left the room.
Kate was unprepared for an audience with Anne. She wondered if Anne had told Richard of their frosty meeting at Baynard’s Castle. She assumed not or he would have mentioned it, she thought. She walked stiffly to the queen and sank into a curtsy.
“Mother!” Katherine glided across the floor to raise Kate up and kiss her warmly on both cheeks. Kate’s apprehension lifted at the unaffected greeting. “I like him very much,” the girl whispered. “He is handsome and kind, you shall see.”
She curtsied to her father, then bounced up and hugged him. Richard kissed her cheek and called her his poppet. He greeted Anne fondly, taking her hand and kissing its palm. He waved Kate to a seat facing them and perched on the arm of Anne’s chair. Katherine sat on a footstool at Anne’s feet as though they were a family. For the first time, Kate was able to observe the resemblance between father and grown-up daughter. Their deep gray eyes held the same expression: alert, intelligent and yet tempered by a hint of cynicism.
“Herbert is happy to accept Katherine. He has been a widower these
past three years and with only a daughter as heir, is looking to Katherine to give him a son,” Richard began.
Katherine blushed. “Father, please!” she said, looking to Kate for sympathy.
Kate smiled at her and put her finger to her lips. “I am not familiar with the gentleman, Richard. Is he a young man?”
“He is seasoned but not old.” Richard chuckled. “More important, he seems to have no qualms about marrying the king’s daughter, does he, Katherine?”
Katherine’s cheeks flamed red again and she bent her head to hide them, playing with the big signet ring William Herbert had given her.
Kate saved her daughter an answer. “I see. What are the arrangements for the dowry? I would like to offer to do my share—”
“’Tis all arranged, I thank you, Kate. Katherine will have her wedding, and William will receive lands and grants that will more than compensate him for his forbearance in taking such a willful wench off our hands.”
“Father!” Katherine’s head jerked up, and she shot him an indignant look that made them all laugh.
“If Katherine is half as happy with her William as I am with my Richard, then she will be a lucky girl,” Anne said suddenly.
The silence was palpable. Kate could not be sure the speech was not meant to hurt her, and her stomach turned over. She looked down at Richard’s filigree ring on her clenched hand and took a deep breath.
“Oh, Richard . . . my dear . . . my pardon. I spoke without thinking. Forgive me.” Anne wrung her hands, her eyes flooding with tears.
“I am sure you did not mean to upset anyone, my dear. Calm yourself.” Richard put his arm about her shoulders and at the same time gave Kate a look of apology. “Katherine, run along and find your betrothed. We would see him here. Go, poppet.”
The scene bewildered Katherine, and she ran gratefully from the room. Anne appeared distraught to have embarrassed Richard, and the stress brought on a spasm of coughing. Richard gently rubbed her back until she stopped.
Kate waited until Anne had regained her composure. “Please do not fret, your grace.” She leveled her gaze at Anne, determined to show her
mettle and be understanding. “’Twas so long ago now. I do assure you I am content to know you are among the fortunate few who are happy with their husband. I pray you, think no more on it.”
Anne looked surprised but gave Kate a wan smile. Richard, however, was quite aware that Anne’s careless remark had hit home. His gaze spoke of gratitude and love, and Kate was satisfied. She took charge of the moment and turned the conversation to a subject she presumed was dear to Anne’s heart.
“Your grace, you have the advantage over me. You know my children, but I regret I do not know your son. Will he accompany you on your progress?”
Anne’s face lit up at the mention of her child, and the question cleared the air. “Ned is the apple of our eye, is he not Richard? But, nay, we regret he is not able to withstand the rigors of a progress. He is not ill, you understand, but he is . . . frail. He thrives in the bracing air of the dales.”
Bracing? Kate thought. I have heard it is damp, chilly and better suited to long-haired cattle and sheep than man, and certainly not a frail child. “I am sorry to hear he cannot travel with you, madam,” she said instead. “John tells me he is a sweet boy.”
“He dotes on your John, and for good reason. You should be proud of your son. He has excelled in his training, has he not, Richard?” Anne was desperately trying to return to Richard’s good graces.
Richard nodded. “She speaks true, Kate. John more than meets expectations and will make a fine captain one day. He is well liked, and I am pleased with him.”
There was a knock on the door. Richard called, “Come,” and Katherine entered on the arm of a small, dark-haired man with a clipped beard. William Herbert bowed low to the king and queen. “I give you good day, your grace,” he said with his pleasant Welsh cadence.
“Come in, William. Well met.” Richard went forward and grasped the man’s shoulder in friendship. He was about Richard’s age with a broad, intelligent forehead and dark, flashing eyes. He almost could be mistaken for Spanish, Kate thought, eyeing her future son-in-law critically. Richard took him to her and she put out her hand for him to kiss. She
was unnerved to see him eyeing her just as critically, though there was humor behind his eyes.
“Dame Haute, I give you God’s greeting,” he murmured politely.
She inclined her head. “My lord, well met. I understand you will be taking Katherine as wife, and you have her father’s consent. Not that it matters, but you have mine also.” She gave Richard a mischievous smile over Herbert’s head. “I would warn you, sir, Katherine is much more like me than her father. You will not have a simpering miss to contend with, I can promise you.”
“So it would seem, madam.” William stood straight and grinned. “My hope is that she will bring fire to my Welsh ice. She is already half way to melting me.”
Katherine blushed scarlet as William lifted her hand to his lips.
Richard laughed. “Well said, William. Katherine, my dear, I believe you shall not have your will of him as often as you have with some broken-hearted young men I could mention. Our Welsh friends have minds of their own. You will have to learn to be at least a little dutiful.”
They all laughed, and Katherine and William sat down together on the window seat. Anne rose to pour wine for her guests. As she handed Kate a glass, she pressed her hand and whispered, “I thank you, madam. You are indeed gracious.”
Kate was warmed by the simple apology and spoke her acceptance with a nod. Then Richard and Anne took their leave, allowing Kate a quiet moment with Katherine and William. Richard gave her his peculiarly sweet smile. “We were pleased to see you again, Kate. Farewell.”
“Farewell, sire. May God keep you both. And Richard,” she added after Anne had preceded him through the doorway, “thank you for this meeting.”
The earl of Huntingdon averted his eyes when he saw the king blow Kate a kiss.
A
LTHOUGH
J
ACK AND
M
ARGARET
would always consider Tendring Hall their home, as duke and duchess of Norfolk, they had taken up residence at Framlingham Castle, some twenty miles to the east. Kate missed Margaret’s company, but raising her flock of sheep in the pastures rented to
her by Jack occupied much of her time upon her return to Dog Kennel House. Now she had her own wool to sell, still enjoying her loom for the household needs. She loved the walk to the distant field, stopping along the way to talk to the ploughmen, shepherds and peasants who toiled on the rich Suffolk earth. She had grown to appreciate the region and rarely thought of her native Kent. When she did, her daydreams invariably turned to her son Dickon.
In a recent letter, Geoff wrote of the boy’s progress in his lessons, “. . .
although I think book learning is not his strong suit, sister. In that way he must be more like you than his father.”
Kate grimaced and muttered, “Toad-spotted villain!” Almost as an afterthought, Geoff had written,
“Jane and I will soon be parents. We hope you will rejoice with us.”

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