A Rose for the Crown (29 page)

Philippa finished giving the guests proper directions for the three-league ride, and then she rose from her chair and graciously advised them to take their leave if they wanted to arrive back at their lodging before dark. The two men jumped to their feet, bowed low over her hand and thanked her for her hospitality. They turned their attention to Kate, and Rob executed a bow, grinning ruefully at her.

“This savage northerner thanks you for rescuing us and hopes you will forgive his rudeness!”

Kate went forward and kissed him on his cheek. “Aye, Rob, you are forgiven. Am I?” He nodded, blushing. “And thank you again, Dickon, for warming me with your cloak.”

She did not attempt to kiss him; something in his bearing caused her to curtsy instead. Richard bowed low in response, keeping his gray eyes on her as he did. It was her turn to blush. The awkward moment was ended by Philippa’s innocent question.

“Sirs, in my excitement of seeing you well refreshed and counting you already acquainted with Kate, I forgot to ask your names. Perhaps my husband, Martin Haute, will know your families when I tell him of your visit.”

Rob looked questioningly at Richard. He sighed. “Mistress, by your
leave, I am Richard of Gloucester and this is Robert Percy of Scotton. We did not mean to deceive you by not revealing ourselves earlier, but I confess I do tire of all the pother that is given the brother of the king!”

Philippa’s mouth dropped open, and she executed a low and unsteady curtsy, but Kate surprised them all by clapping her hands and laughing. “I knew it was you, my lord, I knew it!” Richard’s eyebrow lifted in puzzlement, and she responded, “You asked if we had met, and I did not answer because we have not—exactly. But we have seen each other before, albeit fleetingly, at your brother’s coronation.”

A smile of recognition lit up Richard’s face. “I remember! You are the harper, and you have a voice like an angel!” He turned to Rob. “Do you recall, Rob? We escaped Mother’s eagle eye and found the voice in an antechamber. It is indeed a pleasure to have met you today, Mistress Haute.”

He looked at her appraisingly, eliciting a curtsy. Then they were gone in a flurry of hoofs and excited dogs.

“Richard of Gloucester in our home! Oh, Kate, what excitement! And so personable. Whatever will Martin say?” Philippa went around the room, straightening things out as if she was expecting visitors rather than having just hosted them, and prayed they had not noticed the dust and the children’s playthings left on the floor. “George should have been here. It might have helped his career to have made an impression on such a great lord.”

Kate sniffed scornfully, but Philippa did not hear her.

“Where is George? I do have to confess, I went to sleep with the children for a spell this afternoon and heard nothing. And where were you that you met with his grace? In the woods, they said. Why?”

Kate laughed. “Certes, Mother, you are full of questions. George has gone to Lavenham, I know not why. I took a ride on Cornflower and went further than I ought. I was afraid the gentlemen were robbers or worse. When I left, I did not think clearly where I was going. I will not stray that far again, I promise.”

Philippa clicked her tongue in disapproval. She was privately shocked by Kate’s lack of deference to Richard of Gloucester after he had revealed his identity, but she was beginning to know Kate and admire her spirit. She was a sensible, stoic woman, devoted to her husband and children—
even to George, who puzzled and frightened her at times. She hoped he would treat Kate well, though it seemed that Kate was a woman who would stand up to George’s moodiness and fits of anger. In addition to her ample dowry, Kate brought to Chelsworth experience in all aspects of keeping a house. It mattered not if she was outspoken and high-spirited, Philippa thought. She was a breath of fresh air.

G
EORGE
ARRIVED
BACK
at Haute Manor in time for the evening supper, noticeably the worse for drink. It was not the first time he had stayed away for hours and returned inebriated and sullen. Once, Philippa had tried to talk to him about it, but he was abusive and shut himself in his chamber. Well before the scene that morning, Kate, too, had tried to reason with him and understand what made him drink himself into a stupor. Now, armed with new information, she knew it was a device for forgetting he had a wife at home. In this state, he would fall into bed and start snoring immediately, thus avoiding intimacy.

Tonight, as she saw him attempt to carry a spoonful of pottage to his mouth and fail, she looked at him with a hardening heart. He avoided her eyes and paid the two children more attention than usual. Philippa chose to ignore his state and chattered on about the unexpected visit that afternoon. George’s interest was vaguely piqued, but he could hardly believe the duke of Gloucester had been in the house, and he stared bleary-eyed at his mother. “Gloucester? Here? Nonsense, Mother. You must have been dreaming. What would he want with us?” His two siblings, noting his slurred speech, sniggered.

Philippa hurried on, telling him of Kate’s meeting in the wood and that she had brought the men back to the house.

“What were you doing in the forest by yourself, madam?” George spat, though he could not look her in the face. “I forbid you to go out alone again! You might have been violated or worse!”

Kate kept her eyes on her food as she thought, What would you care! Slowly, though, she raised her eyes to his. “I needed a place to think by myself. Cornflower took me where she wanted. Pray do not ask me what I had to think about. You know all too well.”

She knew George would halt the conversation there, and she proved correct. Philippa looked anxious but decided it must relate to the lovers’
tiff of the morning and changed the subject. “Children, ’tis time for bed. Say good night, and I shall be up soon to pray with you.” As Robert and Maud went up the stairs, Philippa turned to Kate and George. “We shall say prayers in the solar as usual when I return.” She thought George could use some heavenly guidance.

George slumped sulkily in his chair, a tilted goblet dripping wine onto the rushes. He did not look so beautiful now, Kate thought sadly, as she removed the fine linen cloth and folded it. Philippa disappeared into the kitchen hallway.

“We have to talk together, husband. Therefore I need you to be awake when we are alone in our room. You have much to answer for.”

George stood up unsteadily, set his cup on the table and grumbled, “Aye, Kate, we will talk, have no fear.” He stumbled through the door on his way to the solar to wait for Philippa. The servants followed at a discreet distance, while Kate extinguished some of the rushlights.

After prayers, when the house was dark and quieted, Kate drew the curtains around their bed and began to speak. George lay sprawled, his face buried in the mattress and turned from her. She spoke slowly and deliberately. “I never want to talk about what I saw here this afternoon again. ’Tis unnatural, and I feel betrayed by you. But you must answer me two questions, and then I will think on how we are going to live our lives. Are you listening?”

Kate was in control. She was seeing George for what he was—immature and troubled. But this still did not help answer her first question, which now came at him with vehemence. “I pray you why did you marry me when you knew the way you are? How could you be so cruel? You knew I loved you to distraction. How could you use me thus? You could have waited for someone of your father’s choice if you needed a wife.” She pulled him over onto his back and made him look at her. He was sobering up fast, and his mouth was hard.

“Have you not guessed, rich widow?” he mocked her. “Have you really not guessed, you innocent?”

Kate sagged back on to her heels, the obvious finally seeping into her brain. “My money! You married me for my money? Mother of God, how addle-pated I am!” she cried, forgetting Molly was asleep in the truckle bed on the other side of the room. “You let me swear to be your wedded
wife, to be ‘bonny and buxom in bed and board,’ when you knew you would never bed me! You . . . you swine!” was all she could think of saying as she slapped him hard.

George’s nerve endings were dulled from drink, so he only winced. “I am the second son of a poor soldier, Kate. I have no means of my own to allow me to live the life I enjoy. With your dowry, I foresaw happier times for me.” He was more watchful of her than she knew. He was concerned she would give the secret away to his family—to his father, whom he feared above all.

“Why should my money be so important to you?” She was still puzzled. “You have a future assured with Sir John, do you not? I heard his grace, the duke of Gloucester, say Sir John is in high favor with the king. And here is another question. Have you kept your marriage secret from Sir John? I would find that peculiar. Are you ashamed of me? I cannot think why. I am fair enough and rich.” She rolled the
r
for emphasis. “It so happens I know Sir John, and I believe he would be right glad you have taken me to wife.”

“You know him? How?” George raised himself up on one elbow, trying to divert the conversation. Kate ignored him.

“Answer my question, George! Have you kept our marriage a secret from your lord?”

George slumped down on his back and stared moodily at the canopy. “If you want the truth, I will tell you. But only if you swear not to tell my mother and father of my . . . my . . .”

“Fondness for men?” Kate finished for him.

George shot her an angry look. “Aye. If that is the way you think of it.”

“There are no other words for it. Have you not avoided me in bed since the day we wed? You seem to forget I am not an innocent. I have been married before. No matter that Thomas was old and dried up, he knew his duty in bed!”

She made it sound as though she had welcomed Thomas’s advances. She was not about to tell George how much she had hated the old man’s attempts at lovemaking. She did not need his mockery at this moment. “I pray you, answer my question before my patience runs out.”

George closed his eyes and sighed. “Very well. Sir John was displeased
with me before he left for his voyage on the
Mary Grace.
He threatened to dismiss me from his household if I did not perform my duties better.” He turned his eyes beseechingly on her. “But Kate, I hate them. They are too taxing—swordplay, jousting, wrestling—I cannot abide all the horseplay.” He was whining now.

“So, you are on Sir John’s bad slate?” The sarcasm dripped. “And marrying in haste and without the required permission would further anger him, is that it?”

George acquiesced with a grunt. But Kate was not finished. “Tell me, why did you tempt the fates and his possible anger by marrying me?” She was relentless.

George did not answer. He climbed between the covers and turned away from her.

There has to be more to it than this, Kate thought, but as George was evidently not about to divulge anything further, she gave up. She in turn got under the covers, leaving a physical and emotional gulf a league wide between them.

“I will tell you tomorrow what I intend to do about this, husband, as I see you are in no more mood to talk. I pray you sleep well and have pleasant dreams. God knows I shall not. May He keep you until tomorrow, when you shall know my answer to our dilemma.” She was curt and dismissive. She did not want him to know she had not quite thought that far ahead. Any planning she might have done that afternoon in the clearing had been interrupted by the arrival of the huntsmen.

“A
NNULMENT
! No, I will never agree to an annulment!” George yelled at the top of his lungs. “How dare you even ask!”

He and Kate were sitting on the riverbank, well out of earshot of the house. Kate had purposely dressed as plainly as possible, hoping her more matronly appearance would make her seem older and wiser. She was calm, her nervousness showing only as she tore a reed into thinner and thinner strips on her lap.

George jumped up, railing at her. “Where did you come up with such a ridiculous notion, wife! We have only been married these three weeks. No one would grant an annulment after only three weeks. And no one will believe your story—if that is the story you are going to use. I could
just have been too tired or ill to consummate the marriage, which is the story
I
am going to use!” He shook his fist.

Kate let him rant. She had lain awake for several hours, wondering how she could get out of this loveless marriage. Divorce was complicated, she knew, and would mean certain hellfire. Then she remembered an easier route: annulment. She would only have to get dispensation from somebody—probably the pope, she thought—and she would be free again without any stigma and could find a husband who would give her babies.

She knew that love from a man was not always a part of marriage. Yet she had hoped for more than Thomas’s gropings in future intimacy with a husband. She knew she had much love to give someone—and she had dared to dream it would be George. Now that dream was dead. But it was the thought of not being able to have children that was anathema to her.

By the time she fell asleep, she had made up her mind to ask for an annulment. The grounds would simply have to be revealed. She hated to hurt Philippa, for she was truly fond of her mother-in-law and knew her for a pious woman who would be horrified by her son’s behavior.