The Queen's Mistake (19 page)

Ah, what games mice did play while their well-placed husbands were away! Lord Lisle was lord deputy of Calais, giving his bored wife free rein to do as she pleased.

Catherine watched Thomas’s glance move from Lady Lisle to her, then back again, as he extended the lance to Lady Lisle so she could tie her embroidered scarf onto its tip for good luck. The crowd politely applauded the custom. As he nodded to her, Catherine felt an odd twist deep within her solar plexus. It felt, strangely enough, like jealousy, but she sat up a little straighter and shrugged off the sensation as the king advanced.

The king rode a grand black bay caparisoned in tooled silver, and his new suit of armor flashed in the sunlight. Henry nodded to the queen, but just as he took Anne’s scarf, embroidered with the letters H and A, his gaze slid across to Catherine and their eyes met. Henry nodded slightly but clearly to her. The royal acknowledgment felt flattering yet strange at the same time.

She glanced over and noticed that her grandmother had seen it and was smiling approvingly. It was a rare sight, particularly for Catherine, and though she was happy to see it, her only thought was that the king might be more inclined to show favor for her budding friendship with Thomas if he knew who she was. As the sovereign, he could destroy a relationship between his most intimate servants just as easily as he could sanction it.

And Catherine meant for him to sanction it.

Breaking the awkward moment, Henry made a show of nodding to the queen and accepting her colors on the tip of his lance, as Thomas had done with Lady Lisle. The crowd cheered. Everyone wanted to believe the fairy tale—that after three complicated marriages, Henry VIII had at last found happiness.

The contests went on into the late afternoon. Thomas had ridden twice and won both matches. In the third, he had wisely surrendered when his opponent was the king, applauding at his own loss in favor of the sovereign. Now, in his second match with the king, he seemed distracted.

Catherine wondered if this, too, was intentional to flatter the king.

Unexpectedly, Thomas’s horse reared up on its powerful hind haunches just as the king launched a blow at him with his long, pointed lance. Thomas held tightly to the reins, but the big warrior bay was too powerful. Thomas tumbled to the ground with a clatter of armor and an audible groan. Lady Lisle lurched forward against the balustrade amid gasps and whispers. Jousting could be a brutal sport.

Catherine felt her heart seize as her fingers splayed across her mouth. She waited for Thomas to move, but he showed no signs of consciousness. After another moment, she saw the field aides and servants dash to Thomas’s side as he struggled to sit up in his heavy
suit of armor. She was overwhelmed with relief, followed closely by another pang of jealousy as Lady Lisle sent a servant to check on Thomas’s injuries. Catherine was not certain of much in life, but she knew that Lady Lisle did not deserve to know anything before anyone else. And she did not deserve Thomas.

“He will be fine. Just a few bruises,” Jane informed Catherine an hour later, after she had gone to the king’s apartments herself. Culpeper had been examined by the royal physicians by order of His Majesty shortly before her arrival.

“Is he well enough to attend the queen’s special masque this evening?” Catherine asked, trying to hide the relief on her face.

“He appeared fine to me,” Jane said, casting a sideways glance at Catherine’s expression.

“You saw Thomas yourself?”

“Of course. The only visible evidence of his mishap is a small gash on his temple where the visor was hinged.” She gave a little smile of amusement. “You really could not be more obvious, you know.”

“Obvious?” Catherine said, feigning innocence.

“Neither of you could. Only take care; the people of this court are not always what they seem.”

“Is someone a danger to me?” she asked. This time she didn’t need to feign anything.

Jane tilted her head and paused. “Just take care. That’s all I’m saying.” She hesitated before continuing. “I saw the way the king looked at you. So did everyone else.”

“The king?” Catherine gasped. “Nothing was meant by that. He is married.”

“Unhappily. Why else do you think you were brought here by your uncle?”

“To m-make an important match,” Catherine stammered. “A match that will elevate my family’s standing once again.”

“Precisely,” Jane gently said.

“But not with the king!” Catherine could not believe what she was hearing.

“Why not? There is no one more ambitious in this world than your uncle, and now the dowager duchess is here as well. The entire court is abuzz about her arrival.”

“She is here because of me?” Catherine asked, the pieces finally falling into place.

“Is not everything about you?” Jane said in a matter-of-fact tone.

Anne Basset and Lady Frances entered the room just then to help Jane and Catherine change for the banquet, and the conversation came to an abrupt end. But not without Catherine’s having a vague premonition of something dark and very dangerous working its way into her soul as Anne placed a new pair of dancing slippers before her.

The king’s mummers worked hard to entertain the court in the great hall, and the musicians played one lively tune after another from the gallery above. The din was topped by laughter and spirited conversation. Catherine laughed and conversed along with the others as she took small sips of the very strong spiced wine.

She had not met Wil Somers before, but the king’s trusted fool was also a guest that evening. The thin little man with wide green eyes and an unruly mop of fawn brown hair sat on one side of the king, while the queen sat on the other. Anne seemed so carefree and unaware of the king’s discontent. If he was discontent at all
,
Catherine thought. Perhaps it was just a rumor. More gossip.

Catherine could not help but look up when Thomas at last strode in.

In spite of Jane’s words of warning, she had been hoping to see
him. He looked magnificent as ever in dun velvet with gold slashings in his wide, fashionable sleeves. As he neared, she saw that he was with Lady Lisle at the center of a group of courtiers. Jealousy quickly overtook surprise, and Catherine took a larger swallow of wine than she intended, causing her to choke. Thomas was near enough to hear her, and when he turned to see her his bright smile faded to one of curiosity at her reaction. Catherine recovered, averted her own gaze and pretended to say something to Lady Margaret. To her embarrassment, the king’s niece was neither looking at nor listening to her, and Thomas laughed, infuriating her. She shot him another glance, this time full of petulant anger.

She stiffened in her chair and looked away.
Lady Lisle indeed!

Suddenly, Gregory Cromwell was behind her with a hand on her shoulder. “Where have you been hiding yourself?” he asked affably, smelling lightly of perspiration and horseflesh, as if he had been riding. “I haven’t seen you since—”

“I serve the queen. I am at Her Grace’s disposal at all times,” Catherine coolly replied before he could finish. She was completely uninterested in Gregory at that moment.

“But you are here now, which is my great fortune, since my wife is not. Come save a poor old married man and dance with me.”

She glanced up almost automatically to where Thomas was standing, hoping he would see Gregory’s interest in her. To her surprise, he was watching her.
Good
, she thought.

“I would be delighted to dance with you, Master Cromwell,” she said. She wanted Thomas to feel the jealousy that she was feeling as Lady Lisle continued to cling to his side.

“Ah, they are doing a tourdion.”

“Your favorite dance?”

“Precisely, because it is the one I am best at.”

Catherine could not help but laugh at his comment full of more
self-effacement than bragging. She pushed back her chair, stood and haughtily strode to the center of the hall with Gregory.

“I wanted to see you again,” he said, as they passed each other, then dipped and twirled in time to the music, their jewels and ornaments glittering in the flaming torchlight.

“I am not surprised.”

“Not only because of that,” he said with a chuckle, “although I would consider that as an added benefit, most definitely.”

“I did not know you were married when we met.”

“I did not know
you
were not just beautiful, but clever as well. Yet I refuse to hold
that
against you.”

Catherine laughed. She could not help it. She liked men, and she liked the game.

“I
am
surprised by how charmingly you dance.” She smiled intentionally when she saw Thomas still watching her.

“I am flattered you would think so,” Gregory replied as they moved through another tune. “But I did warn you the tourdion was my best dance. I positively have two left feet when it comes to the volte.”

“That’s probably a good thing, since it is the volte at which the king excels.”

“You have learned quickly for how briefly you have been at court.”

“I am a Howard,” she declared with a widening, flirtatious smile.

“That you are.” They bowed to each other as the music and the dance came to an end. Gregory leaned over and whispered to her, “Let’s steal away from this miserably warm corridor and do something wild. Let’s go wading in the king’s Neptune fountain.”

“We would be caught for certain!” Catherine exclaimed.

“Is danger not the true thrill of adventure?”

“I wouldn’t know. I didn’t have many adventures at Horsham.”

“Well, then it’s high time you start having them here,” Gregory said with a smile.

He led her with his slightly sweaty hand through a crowd of people so thick and drunk that they passed unnoticed beneath the Roman arch and through the open doors, where liveried guardsmen stood as still as toy soldiers. They continued down a long, carpeted corridor, then out into the moonlit night and beneath a sky peppered with brilliant stars. The cool night air came at her swiftly, reviving all of her senses.

The Neptune fountain was a massive stone pond encircled by trimmed plants and five brick pathways that led in five directions. Gregory sank onto the edge of the fountain, removed his shoes, and waited for Catherine to do the same.

“I feel so naughty,” she said with a tinkling, girlish laugh.

“Splendid. So shall we have a go?”

“It
was
awfully warm in there just now . . .” Catherine admitted.

As she held up her wide skirts, he helped her step into the ankle-deep fountain, and they both began to laugh again. It was so fun to do something so shocking, and possibly even get caught. The night air was crisp as she moved deeper into the cool water.

“Do you like the feel of the moss between your toes?” he asked. “I find it rather erotic.”

“It is,” she said, playing willingly into Gregory’s little game.

“Then we shall have to think of our next adventure before this one is over.”

He pulled her toward him, touching her, running a hand up her arm. It was a familiar game, one she could play easily and well. Just as he pressed his mouth against the column of her throat, she sensed another presence nearby. When she drew away to look, the
last person Catherine expected to see was Thomas Culpeper. He stood beside the fountain, hand on the dress scabbard at his side, his expression one of challenge.

“A pleasant evening,” he said. His words were cordial, but his tone was not.

“Yes,” she replied, feeling strangely embarrassed.

“Cromwell.” Thomas nodded.

“Culpeper.” Gregory nodded in return.

Catherine glanced from one man to the other. The tension grew in the silence, and the distant strains of music and laughter felt farther and farther away.

“Have you had enough?” Thomas asked her, his expression strained and angry now. “If so, I shall escort you back to the banquet.”

“Should you not be escorting Lady Lisle?” Catherine asked in a petulant tone that surprised even her. She had not meant to sound so churlish, but the words escaped her lips before she could take them back.

Catherine watched his eyes narrow slightly. “That would be the portion of gossip that I recommended you disregard.”

She tipped up her chin just slightly, challenging him. “I believe what I have seen for myself.”

“Your eyes deceive you,” he said quietly.

“Do they deceive the rest of us?” Gregory asked.

Catherine watched Thomas’s jaw clench. He did not reply. Two heartbeats passed before his eyes cut away from her and settled on Gregory Cromwell. A moment later, Thomas turned to walk away. He took only two long strides on the brick path before Catherine leaped from the fountain and snatched up her shoes. Thomas paused and turned very slowly to meet the sound of wet, padding feet on the bricks. Her choice was implicit as she stood before him and let down the skirts of her dress.