Katharine of Aragon (51 page)

Maria dried her eyes with her kerchief and Katharine, looking into the mirror, did not see her own reflection, but herself arriving in England, after saying an infinitely sorrowful farewell to her mother, with her the duenna Doña Elvira Manuel, who had proved treacherous, and her maids of honor who had all been chosen for their beauty. Maria had been one of the loveliest even of that lovely band. They were scattered now, most of them married.… Inez de Veñegas to Lord Mountjoy, and Francesca de Carceres, most unsuitably, to the banker Grimaldi.

“Maria, tell me, have you seen Francesca recently?”

“She still waits for an audience. Does Your Grace wish to see her? Perhaps, now that I am going.…”

Katharine's face hardened. “She left me once, because she felt it was to her advantage to do so. I would never take back one who has proved her disloyalty to me and to her family.”

“I have heard, Your Grace, that the banker loves her truly.”

“Then if she is so loved she should be content with that state of life which she deliberately chose. There will never be a place for her in my household.”

When Katharine spoke as firmly as that Maria knew that her mind was made up.

Katharine changed the subject. “I hope that you do not intend to leave me at once, Maria.”

Maria knelt once more at the Queen's feet and buried her face against Katharine's skirts.

“It is my only regret that I cannot be in constant attendance on Your Grace.”

There was sudden commotion outside the apartment. The door was flung open and the King stalked in. His face was a deeper red than usual and his anger was apparent from the manner in which he strutted. In his hand he carried papers, and a quick glance at those papers, as she swung round from the mirror, told Katharine that it was news from Spain which had angered her husband.

Maria rose to her feet and dropped a curtsey with the other women in the apartment. The King did not bestow his usual smile of appreciation on some particular beauty who caught his eye. Henry was always single-minded and now his thoughts were on the papers he carried.

He waved his hand in an imperious gesture. It was eloquent. It meant: “Leave us.” The women hastened to obey, and Maria's heart sank seeing those signs of anger in the King's face, because she, who was closer to Katharine than any of her companions, knew that the Queen was beginning to fear the King.

When they were alone Henry stood glaring at his wife, for the first few seconds too angry to speak. She waited, having learned from experience that when the King was in such a mood a carelessly spoken word could fan the flame of anger.

Henry waved the papers as though they were banners and he were advancing on an enemy.

“News from your father!” he spat out. “He seems determined to insult me.”

“But Henry, I am sure this cannot be so. He has the utmost regard for you.”

“So it would seem. He tells me here that my armies are useless. He is offering to fight my battles for me if I will pay him to provide mercenaries!”

“This cannot be so.”

“You have eyes. Read this,” he roared.

She took the papers and glanced at them. She could only see her father as her mother had taught her to look at him. Isabella had never complained to their children of Ferdinand's conduct; she had always represented him as the perfect King and father. Katharine had only heard by chance that her father had on many occasions been unfaithful to Isabella and that there were children to prove it. And even though she must accept him as an unfaithful husband—in her opinion to the greatest and most saintly woman who had ever lived—still she could not believe that he was anything but honorable; and she accepted in good faith what he had written.

“Well?” demanded Henry harshly.

“My father considered what happened to our men in Spain. He wishes to help you.”

“So he casts a sneer at me and my armies.”

“You read into this what is not intended, Henry.”

“I…I? I am a fool, I suppose, Madam. I lack your perception. There is something you and your father forget.” He came close to her, his eyes narrowed, and she shrank from the malice she saw in his face. “But for me, what would have happened to you? I brought you up to your present position. It would be wise not to forget that. There were many who were against our marriage. What were you then? A miserable outcast. Your father would not support you…you were living in poverty.” Henry folded his arms behind his back and scowled at her. “I was told that a monarch such as I might choose my wife from all the greatest heiresses in the world. And what did I do? I chose you. You, Madam, who had been the wife of my brother, who were neglected by your father, who was living in miserable poverty in Durham House. I raised you up. I set you on the throne. And this is my reward.…”

She tried to fight the terror which such words inspired. She had grown pale and her twitching fingers caught at the cloth of her gown.

“Henry,” she said, “this I know well. Even if I did not love you for your many qualities…I would be grateful and wish to serve you until the end of my life.”

He was slightly mollified. She thought: Oh God, how easy it is to placate him, how easy to anger him.

“‘Tis as well you are aware of your debts,” he growled. “And your father! What have you to say for him? He too should be grateful for what I did for you. This is an example of his gratitude!”

“Henry, he is offering to help you.…”

“With German mercenaries! Because we English are unable to fight our own battles!”

“He does not mean that, Henry. I am sure of this.”

“Not mean it! Then why does he say it?”

“Because he believes you to be suffering a keen disappointment, because he is sorry our army did not achieve its end.”

“He does not want English troops on Spanish soil! By God, would I had hanged the traitor Dorset. Would I had not listened to your woman's pleading for a worthless life.”

“Nay, Henry, you must not blame Dorset.” She was suddenly overwhelmed by her tenderness for this big man who, it seemed to her, at times had the heart and mind of a child. “Let us face the truth. We failed. We failed because we had not enough food for our men, and we sent them out illequipped. Certainly you cannot accept my father's offer—though he makes
it in friendship; I do assure you of that. But there is an answer to those who have jeered at our failure. There is an answer to my father.”

“What is this answer!”

“That you should prepare an army that will be invincible, that you should place yourself at the head of it and attack the French, not from the South but from the North. There you would find a climate not unlike our own; there would not be the same difficulties in feeding an army that was separated from England only by twenty-one miles of sea. And with you at the head of it…”

A slow smile was spreading across the King's face. He did not speak for a few seconds; then he burst out: “By God, Kate, we have the answer there. That is it. We shall start from Calais… and go on from there. And this time it will not be a Marquis who commands, but a King.”

All ill humor had disappeared. He seized her in his arms and hugged her, but already his thoughts were far away from her; he was leading his men into triumphant battle. This would be a masque to outdo those merry exercises that had charmed the courtiers and the people at Windsor, Richmond and Westminster.

He was content—content with life, content with Kate.

He danced round the apartment with her, lifting her in his arms, pausing so that she should marvel at his strength, which she did—running his fingers through her hair and over her body.

“There's one thing that will not please me. I shall be separated from my Kate. And what will she be doing while she awaits the return of the conqueror, eh?” The little eyes were alight with laughter and confidence. “Mayhap she will be nursing the heir of England… the heir to all those lands which I shall bring back to the English crown!”

Katharine was laughing in his arms. The danger was over for a while; the King was happy again.

SO IT WAS TO
be war. Katharine was eager to show Henry how she could work for him and that he could rely on his Queen's being always at his side.

Henry was in high spirits. He was certain that he was going to win fresh honors and was already regarding the coming war as a glorified masque. It was a comfort to know that he could safely leave those matters of minor importance to Katharine, and he was pleased with her because she was so eager to be made use of.

He spent all his nights with her.

“There is one thing only I long for, Kate, and that is to leave you pregnant on my departure. What joy for me! I go forth to win honor for England, knowing you are at home nursing my seed within this comely belly of yours.
I'll give England new dominions, Kate, and together we'll give her heirs. How's that?”

“Henry, if only it could be so I'd be the happiest woman on Earth.”

“Of course it shall be so.” He had no doubt.

Katharine summoned Thomas Wolsey to her presence; she was impressed by his efficient handling of his duties which now included the assembling of the materials to be used in the war.

She was glad one day when in conference with the almoner that the King joined them.

Henry's face glowed with bluff good humor.

“Ha, Master Wolsey,” he cried. “Her Grace tells me that you are of great use to us.”

“I do my humble best, Sire,” answered Wolsey. “My regret is that I have not four pairs of hands and four heads with which to serve Your Grace the better.”

Henry laughed and laid a great hand on Wolsey's shoulder. “We are well pleased with those two hands and that head, my friend. The Queen has shown me the value of your work. She regards you highly, and the Queen and I are of one mind on all matters.”

“There is great joy in serving such a master… and such a mistress.”

“And we are fortunate in our servant. Show me the list of supplies you have prepared.”

“They are here, Your Grace.”

“Fox tells me that you work with the vigor of two men. He too has a high opinion of you.”

“The Bishop has always been a good friend to me.”

“It pleases us. We like our ministers to work well together. Too often we hear of discord, so that it is pleasant to hear of harmony. Now, let me see. So many victuals, eh? So much conduct money. And you can raise it, Master Wolsey?”

“I have no doubt of it, Sire. I can explain in detail how I propose to make these arrangements.”

“Enough, enough. We trust you. Bother us not with the how and the why and the where. Let us find that we have what we need. That is all we ask of you.”

“It shall be so, Sire.”

Henry once more patted Wolsey's shoulder and the almoner, who had always been a man to seize his opportunities, said with an air of impulsiveness which concealed a perfected rehearsal: “Your Graces, have I your permission to speak to you on a… somewhat delicate matter?”

Henry tried to look shrewd; Katharine was faintly alarmed. She was
always afraid that someone whom she regarded highly would, by a carelessly spoken word, anger the King and so ruin a promising career.

“Speak,” said Henry.

Wolsey lowered his eyes. “This is bold of me, Your Grace, but I was bold in the service of your most noble and honored father, and thus found favor with him. I would serve Your Grace with all the zeal I gave to your father's cause.”

“Yes, yes,” said Henry impatiently.

“It concerns my lord of Surrey.”

“What of my lord of Surrey?”

“I have noticed of late that he is failing. He plans to go to France with Your Grace. This is rash of me… but I shall not think of my own recklessness in speaking my mind—only of the service I could do Your Grace. Sire, the Earl of Surrey is too old to accompany Your Grace to France, and such men can do much to impede an expedition. If it is Your Grace's wish that the Earl of Surrey should accompany you to France, then it is my wish also, but …”

Henry nodded. “He speaks truth,” he said. “Surrey is an old man. Do I want graybeards to march with me!”

The thought occurred to Katharine that the only reason he could want them would be to call attention to his own radiant youth.

But they were going into battle. Henry wanted young men beside him. He also wished to show this man that he appreciated what he had done. Bishop Fox, who looked upon Wolsey as his protégé, had informed the King that the energy of Wolsey astonished even him. He had taken control of tanneries and smithies, of bakeries and breweries; so that they were all working for the state to enable Master Wolsey to provide everything that was needed for the expedition. He worked all hours of the day and far into the night; he scarcely stopped to eat; he was determined to please the King by his diligence, determined that this time the war should not fail through lack of equipment.

I like this Thomas Wolsey, the King told himself.

To throw Surrey to him in exchange for all his labors was a small thing. Surrey was old and arrogant and had passed from the King's favor. And Wolsey asked it, Henry believed, not out of enmity towards the old man, but in his zeal for the success of the cause.

“When we leave for France,” said Henry, “Surrey shall stay behind.”

Wolsey bowed his head in such humble gratitude that he might have been receiving a great honor for himself.

“I am greatly relieved, Your Grace; I feared my importuning…”

Henry slapped the almoner's back with a blow which made him stagger a little.

“Have no fear, Master Wolsey. Serve us well and you will find us a good master.”

Wolsey took the King's hand and kissed it; there were tears in the eyes which he raised to Henry's face. “And the greatest, Sire,” he murmured. “A master whom all men must delight to serve.”

Henry's pleasure was apparent. He was thinking: When this war is won, I'll not forget Master Wolsey. Mayhap I'll keep him near me. He's a useful man, and a wise one.

WOLSEY, COMING FROM
the royal apartment, was smiling to himself.

This war was serving him well, for it had brought him closer to the King's notice. He was going to impress the young monarch with his worth, as he had his father on that occasion when the old King had believed he had not begun a mission and had then found it completed with efficiency and success.