The King’s Sister (22 page)

His gaze never left my face. Was this to be the end? Nothing but a court flirtation falling to its death on the sword of a military expedition? I did not believe it. He was playing with me. I kept my tone as sweet as honey in the comb. ‘Have you truly no desire to kiss me, sir?’

At which John laughed, that infectious laugh that stirred all my senses as it lifted the gulls from the parapet into raucous flight.

‘I would fall at your feet and kiss them as a token of my regard, except that it would be blasted all over the garrison within an hour and your father would be hunting me for my blood for trifling with his daughter.’

‘Are you trifling?’

‘Not I!’

‘Then you should know.’ I caught his gaze with mine, lavish with anxiety. ‘I carry your child.’

His laughing face stilled, all fine planes and angles as he absorbed the news. The laughter was gone. I spread my fingers against the heavy material over my belly, my eyes dropped from his.

‘A child, John.’

‘Ah!’

He was thinking. I could almost sense the rumble and jostle of his thoughts.

‘I am filled with trepidation,’ I murmured. ‘What do we do?’ I bit my lip.

‘Have you told anyone?’

‘No. Only Philippa.’

‘And what does she say?’

‘That I was a fool.’

‘What do you say?’

‘I think she is right.’

Every part of me was tense, waiting as I felt his eyes narrowed on my profile.

‘Do you regret our love?’ he asked.

‘I might regret the results of it,’ I said sorrowfully. ‘You speak of vile reputation. What of mine? I can hear Walsingham sharpening his quill and his tongue from here. What a gift I have tossed into his lap if he wishes to continue his campaign against the Duke. Or against you,’ I added.

‘No, he’s forgiven the Duke. He is now hailing the Duke as a saviour of England and the perfect royal counsellor. Walsingham hates de Vere more than he hates Lancaster. But that’s not important.’ He looked at me, his eyes agate-bright, and I looked back.

‘I think I am in despair.’ I summoned a beautifully melancholy smile. ‘We could make a secret match of it, of course …’ I suggested.

‘What? Abscond on the eve of the expedition? Wed in secret?’ His eyes bore into mine, until I broke the connection.

‘No. We could not, of course.’ I bowed my head again in a parody of shame. ‘It would be a great sin, to live as man
and wife without the church’s blessing. Would we burden this child with the bar of illegitimacy?’

‘Of course we would not. What are you thinking?’

‘I am thinking that I do not have much courage. That perhaps my choice must be a convent where my shame can be born in secret. That is what the Duke will suggest. Philippa thinks so.’ And when there was no reply: ‘The Duke will do all he can to protect the family name. Why would he listen to a daughter who has flouted the mores of society as I have? Such ignominy.’ I felt, with some satisfaction, the dampness of a tear on my cheek.

I thought he might offer comfort. Instead he turned his back, hands fisted on hips, shoulders rigid, leaving me to regroup my resources.

Until he turned his head to look back at me. ‘You were not made for the convent. We both know that.’

‘I know,’ I whispered. ‘But it may be that I must, to hide the shame. How can I not regret …’

‘No time for regrets,’ he announced curtly to a pair of passing kittiwakes. ‘My son and heir is growing larger with every passing day, until all the world will see the results of our lack of control. I do not want him born with all the disadvantages of bastardy. Nor do I want him born in holy disgrace in a convent.’

‘But what can we do? Will you help me? I have no one to turn to …’

Abandoning the gulls, Sir John’s regard became undeniably speculative, his mouth compressed and unsmiling. I held my breath.

‘You have me, dear Elizabeth.’ He was controlling his breathing. ‘And I will have a true heir from you.’

‘So do we abscond?’

All I received was a lift of his brows.

‘I still see the convent doors opening to receive me …’ I pursued.

‘Not they! I doubt they would have you. Are you certain of this child? I see no despair in you.’

‘I am certain, and well practised at masking my despair by now.’ I flattened my palms, one on the other on my breast where my heart bounded with a solemn beat. ‘I am desperately in need.’

‘Then who better to answer that need than I? Come with me, Countess.’

And he bowed me from our windswept platform. I was none the wiser of what he would do, but if anyone could take the initiative and drive our path through thicket and swamp, it was John Holland. Without another word, forbidding in his silence, John led me back down the stairs and then in the wake of my father and Philippa until we came to the door to what proved to be Constanza’s chamber.

‘Stop!’ I urged, pulling on his arm before he could raise a fist to the door as if I was in fear of the consequences. ‘What are you doing?’

‘Something we should have done weeks ago.’

So, on the eve of the campaign, when all was focused on events to take back Constanza’s birthright, John intended to challenge the Duke. It would take courage, but if there was one man with courage and enough it was John Holland.

‘I don’t think I can do this,’ I said in anguish, shrinking back as his hand closed on the latch, swallowing the fast leap of victory in my throat.

‘What do you suggest? A fast coupling with Pembroke and a child born—how soon before full term?’ Releasing the latch he cradled my face in his hands and kissed my lips. ‘Better that it is ended and you wed me.’

I took a breath that caught slightly, but raised my chin. ‘Then I think I should tell the Duke myself. I cannot imagine what he will say. A Plantagenet daughter with royal blood bearing a child outside of wedlock.’

His smile was wry. ‘And you think I will allow you to face him alone?’

Pray God you don’t!
‘It might be better.’

‘It would be a slight on my pride.’

‘You will fight for me?’

‘How could you doubt it? We will stand together. And then we will face the world.’ He ran his knuckles down my cheek, then rapped them smartly against my temple. ‘And you, my dear vixen, need play the distraught and helpless ravaged maiden no longer.’

Catching his hand in mine so that he could not rap again, I raised my brows.

‘I don’t know what you mean.’

His face was alive, a little devious and supremely beautiful, and I loved him for it.

My heart began to sing, even as I preserved my sanctimonious disapproval.

‘You know exactly what I mean,’ he murmured against my lips. ‘When were you ever helpless and tearful? I have
been reading you like a book. I know exactly how your mind is working.’

‘And how is that?’ allowing puzzlement to colour my voice.

‘It was a tour de force, to play the distraught female to my dominant masculinity and desire to protect you.’

‘You have been laughing at me!’

‘Would I do that?’ he asked briskly. ‘Don’t overplay your hand, Countess! Your father knows you too well. Leave it to me.’

He rapped on the door, while I allowed a light sigh of relief.

All heads turned as we entered. Not in surprise, but in welcome, although perhaps they had not expected John to be there with me.

At least he had released my hand.

‘Come and talk with me about armaments, John. The women have immersed themselves into what they might wear in Portugal.’ The Duke’s eyes were keen, the beginning of a new campaign that might bring him his heart’s desire. It touched my thoughts that my news would destroy all his satisfaction, all his immediate pleasure and fierce concentration in what he saw as the fulfilment of a long-held dream, to rule as King of Castile. Had not Richard already presented the Duke and Constanza with golden diadems? There they were, carefully packed for the journey. And here was I, preparing to coat the dream in dross. For that I was sorry, but what choice had I?

‘Before I talk stores and weapons, sir. There is a matter …’

‘What’s gone wrong now?’

The Duke was pouring a cup of wine, holding it out to John, but instead of taking it, John stretched out his hand to me and I placed mine there.

‘I love your daughter, sir. And she loves me. We have consummated our love and she is carrying my child. It is my wish to wed her, so that this child comes into the world with all the advantages of legitimacy as my heir. We need your blessing, and Elizabeth needs an annulment.’

There it was, stated in as short a time as it took to breathe in and out.

The room shimmered into stunned silence that could be felt on the ear. Constanza looked up, her needlework abandoned in her lap. Philippa had anxiety writ large on her face. My father looked baffled at a piece of news he could never have envisaged, then astounded. Finally bright with anger. His gaze moved from John to me and back again. With a brusque gesture, he drank the contents of the cup, placing the vessel at his side with a careful exactitude. To me he said with similar control:

‘Is this true?’

‘Yes.’

‘How long? How long have you been lovers?’

‘Since the King pardoned John last year.’

‘I told you it must not be.’

‘I know, sir.’ Bearing John’s warning in mind, I kept my answers brief but regretful.

‘I did not expect such dishonesty from a daughter of mine.’

‘I did not willingly deceive, sir.’

‘And yet you did. How could you put yourself in so reprehensible a position? As for you …’ He wheeled to face John. ‘I have supported you, promoted your interests. And you repay me by seducing my daughter.’

There was a grey shade around the Duke’s mouth. This was worse than I thought. Rage was there, tight held, but for how long? The Duke of Lancaster held up to ridicule by an errant daughter. A vital alliance with Pembroke destroyed by wilful passion. I knew his anger was rightly justified, but now was not the moment to retreat if I hoped to achieve anything from this clash of wills.

‘Who is to say which man will take a woman’s eye?’ I ventured. ‘This man took mine.’

‘You are held by sacred marriage vows.’

‘I have been held by them for eight years.’ What use in dissimulation? ‘How can I be expected to remain loyal to a child in an unconsummated marriage? I love John Holland.’

‘It is a deplorable situation.’

John must have felt the trembling in my limbs for he drew me closer to his side. ‘I cannot allow Elizabeth to take all the blame.’

‘Oh, I agree. Your immorality has led my daughter to the brink of shame. Beyond the brink, by God!’

‘It was no seduction, sir. I saw it as a wooing. I love your daughter and want her for my wife. She is the greatest prize I could ever win. I am honoured that she should give herself into my keeping. I can only ask for your forgiveness, and hope that you will lend your aid in ending a marriage that is no marriage.’

No regret, no apology. I held my breath.

The Duke expelled his in a grunt of disgust. ‘It is a sacred contract, made with holy vows and not to be broken. It is an alliance that I value. Do I destroy that alliance for the sake of your misdemeanours?’ He was cold, icily furious.

‘Yes. That is what I am asking,’ replied John. ‘That you have the marriage annulled. It is not consummated. I see no difficulty. Then I will wed your daughter before there is any talk of the conception of this child.’

‘No. I will not.’

‘Please, Father …’ I had known it would be bad, but not as bad as this.

‘Be silent!’

‘It is,’ John remarked as lightly as if discussing some familiar aspect of the forthcoming campaign, ‘as I see it, the only way to eradicate the promise of malicious talk at court. And it is what I want, to protect Elizabeth’s good name. As I know you will wish also. Out of this debacle, for which I take full blame, Elizabeth is the one we must protect. I don’t like the situation, but we can come out of it without wounding her or your own reputation, sir. Allow me to do what is right by your daughter.’

Constanza and Philippa simply sat, rigidly held. I had to admire John’s silken words, the clever way he allied himself with the Duke to protect me. But would the Duke reject the alliance?

‘It is not how I would have chosen to make my claim for Elizabeth’s hand, but I want her, and I want this child.’

‘I wish it too,’ I said. The strangest way to accept a proposal
of marriage, when I had done nothing but refuse for so long.

‘God in Heaven!’ The Duke flung himself into the only vacant chair in the room. ‘I could do without this.’

And I knew that this was the moment to speak out.

‘I repudiate my marriage to John Hastings,’ I said, as if I stood before a man of law. ‘I have no pleasure in a marriage that only exists in legal words.’

‘And I would wed Elizabeth, with or without your consent.’ John’s hand was firm around mine as if he would anchor my thoughts and my words. There was no room for drama here, even though for me there was one final step in the drama. ‘We are both of an age to make that decision. This child merely pre-empts the marriage vows we would have taken. The only problem is …’

‘The problem is the existence of John Hastings and all his powerful connections. You hold my hand over a blazing fire, Holland. What a shattering dilemma you’ve created between the pair of you.’ In what seemed a moment of despair, the Duke rubbed his hands over his face. ‘Do I have a choice? To give in to a situation that appals me, or have my daughter’s name dragged through the sewers by every common gossip in the land.’ Surging to his feet once more, he strode to stand with his back to the window, head and shoulders illuminated in bands of golden light that came through the narrow aperture. ‘I have been there. I know what it can do. I have felt the pain that it can bring. Do I throw my daughter to the monkish wolves, or do I undermine my integrity by breaking an alliance that has stood for all of those eight years?’

The tension in the room had built massively. We waited for his pronouncement. There was nothing more for any of us to say.

‘By God, you are irresponsible, Holland. It’s not as if you were young and thoughtless, like Henry in the first flush of youthful amours. You knew exactly what the repercussions of an illicit roll between the sheets could be. At least Mary was his wife …’