Katharine of Aragon (41 page)

“That I will do, Your Grace.”

“And now, Fray Diego, I will join my ladies. And remember I have not even told Doña Maria de Salinas or Lady Elizabeth Fitzwalter of my hopes.”

“I shall treat it as a secret of the confessional, Your Grace; and I shall pray that ere long the whole Court will be praying with me that this time there may be an heir who lives.”

FRANCESCA DE CARCERES
was furiously angry as she left the Palace. She had always hated Fray Diego Fernandez but never quite so much as she
did at this time. She had persuaded herself that it was due to his influence that Katharine would not receive her; and she decided to seek the help of the Spanish ambassador, Don Luis Caroz.

This was not difficult to arrange, because her husband transacted business for Caroz as he had done for Fuensalida, and the ambassador was a frequent visitor to the Grimaldi household.

So on his very next visit Francesca detained him and told him that she had news of an intrigue which was taking place at Court and of which she felt he should not be kept in ignorance.

She then told him that she believed that the King was either conducting, or preparing to conduct, a love affair with Lady Huntingdon.

The ambassador was horrified. It was essential to Spanish interests that Katharine should keep her influence with the King, and a mistress could mean considerable harm to those interests.

“The affair must be stopped,” he said.

“I doubt whether it has begun,” answered Francesca. “The King has been a faithful husband so far, in spite of temptations; but I think he is eager to subdue his conscience and take a mistress. I believe therefore that we should take some action… quickly. The Queen will not see me. Could you approach her, tell her that
I
have discovered this and am sending the news to her through you? You might hint that if she would see me I could tell her more.”

The ambassador shook his head. “It would be dangerous to approach the Queen. We cannot be sure what action she would take. She might reproach the King, which could have disastrous results. Nay, this woman has a sister who is in the service of the Queen. We will approach the sister, Lady Fitzwalter. She will almost certainly call in the help of her brother the Duke and I am sure that the proud Staffords would not wish their sister to become the mistress even of the King. They will doubtless realize that the relationship with this rather foolish woman would be of short duration.”

Francesca was silent. She did not see how this was going to help her win the Queen's favor, which was her sole object; but she had grown wise since making her fatal mistake. Her most powerful friend was the ambassador, and if she wished to keep his friendship she must fall in with his wishes.

“You are right,” she said at length. “The important thing is to prevent the Queen from losing her influence over the King.”

Caroz smiled slowly. “I think you might ask for an audience with Lady Fitzwalter. Tell her what you know. We will then watch how the Staffords receive the news. If things do not work out as we wish, we might take other action.”

“I shall do exactly as you say,” Francesca assured him.

He answered: “You are a good friend to Spain, Doña Francesca.”

She felt more hopeful than she had for a long time. Perhaps previously she had been wrong to count so much on getting an audience with the Queen. She must work her way back through more devious paths. The Spanish ambassador might even report to Ferdinand her usefulness. It was possible that Katharine's father would command his daughter to take such a useful servant of Spain back into her service.

EDWARD STAFFORD
, third Duke of Buckingham, looked at his elder sister in dismay which was quickly turning to anger.

Buckingham's dignity was great. Secretly he believed that he was more royal than the King himself, for the Tudor ancestry could not bear too close a scrutiny; but the Staffords had royal blood in their veins and the present Duke could never forget that he was directly descended from Edward III.

Buckingham was a member of the King's most intimate circle, but Henry had the Tudor's suspicion of any who had too close a connection with the throne, and would never have the same affection for the Duke as he had for men like Sir William Compton.

In spite of his ambition Buckingham could not overcome his pride. Because he himself could never forget his royal descent he could not help making others aware of it on every conceivable occasion. Often his friends had warned him to beware; but Buckingham, although being fully conscious of possible danger, could not curb his arrogance.

As yet the danger was not acute. Henry was young with a boy's delight in sport and pageantry. He enjoyed perfect health and his bursts of ill temper, although liable to occur suddenly, were quickly over and forgotten. So far he was sure of his popularity with his people and therefore inclined to be a little careless of the ambitions of others. But there were times when those suspicions, which had been so much a part of his father's character, made themselves apparent.

Buckingham's reactions to the news his sister was telling him were so fierce that he forgot that the King was involved in this matter.

He burst out: “Has the woman no family pride! Does she forget she is a Stafford?”

“It would seem so,” answered Elizabeth Fitzwalter. “I am informed that it can only be a matter of days before she surrenders.”

“She is such a fool that she would not hold the King's attention more than a night or so,” growled Buckingham. “Moreover, the King is still too enamored of the Queen for a mistress to have any chance of making her position really secure.”

Elizabeth bowed her head. She was deeply shocked that a sister of hers
should be ready to indulge in such immorality, but she was after all an ambitious Stafford and did know that the families of King's mistresses rarely suffered from their connection with royalty. But she, like her brother, realized that Anne's triumph would be short-lived; therefore it was advisable to stop the affair before it went too far.

“I suppose the whole Court is gossiping of this matter!” said Buckingham.

“I do not think it is widely known as yet; but of course as soon as she has shared the King's bed for one night it will be known throughout the Court. So far Compton is acting as go-between, and the final arrangements have not yet been made. Our sister is behaving like a simpering village girl—clinging to her chastity with reluctant fingers.”

“And likely to let go at any moment. Well, she shall not do so. I trust that we may rely on our informants.”

“I am sure of it. You remember Francesca de Carceres? She is a clever woman and very eager to return to Court. She is anxious to show the Queen that she is still her humble servant. Anne—the little fool—allowed this woman to wheedle her secret from her; and I believe that Carceres feels that if she can prevent our sister's becoming the King's mistress she will have earned the Queen's gratitude. She makes a good spy, that woman.”

The Duke nodded. “There is one thing to be done. I will send immediately for Huntingdon. He shall take his wife away to the country with all speed.”

“I was sure you would know what should best be done, Edward.” She looked anxious. “And the King? I am a little worried concerning his feelings when he knows that she has been whisked away from him.”

“He will have to understand,” said Buckingham haughtily, “that if he wants to take a mistress he must not look for her among the Staffords, whose blood is as royal as his own.”

“Edward, do not let anyone hear you say that.”

Buckingham shrugged his shoulders. “It does not need to be said. It is known for the truth by any who care to look into the matter.”

“Still, have a care, Edward. I shall be so pleased when her husband has taken her out of danger.”

ANNE'S MAID CAME
to tell her that Sir William Compton was begging an audience.

“Then bring him to me,” said Anne, “and do not forget to remain in the room.”

He came in and once again the maid set about tidying the sewing box.

“I declare you grow more beautiful every time I have the pleasure of seeing you.”

“You are gracious, sir.”

“I come to tell you that impatience is growing strong in a certain breast.”

“And what should
I
do about that?”

“It is only yourself who can appease it. I come to ask you if you will allow me to arrange a meeting between you and this impatient one.”

“It would depend.…”

“On what, Madam?”

“On when and where this meeting should take place?”

Compton came closer and whispered: “In one of the royal apartments. None would see you come to it. It should be a matter between you and him who bids me tell you of his impatience.”

“Then it seems this would be a command rather than a request.”

“It could seem so,” agreed Compton.

She smiled, her eyes gleaming. “Then I have no alternative but to say, Tell me when… tell me where.…”

The door opened suddenly. The Countess of Huntingdon gave a little cry of alarm, and the maid dropped her sewing box as the Duke of Buckingham strode into the room.

“Why, brother, is it indeed you?” stammered Anne.

“Whom else did you expect? Your lover! Or is this one he? By the saints, Madam, you forget who you are! This is conduct worthy of a serving wench.”

“My lord Buckingham,” began Compton sternly, “I come on the King's business.”

“Neither the King nor anyone else has business in the private apartment of a married woman of my family.”

“The King, I had always believed, might have business with any subject, an he wished it.”

“No, sir, you are mistaken. This is my sister, and if she has forgotten the dignity due to her name, then she must be reminded of it.” He turned to Anne. “Get your cloak at once.”

“But why?”

“You will understand later, though it is not necessary for one so foolish to understand, but only to obey.”

Anne stamped her foot. “Edward, leave me alone.”

Buckingham strode forward and seized her by the arm. “You little fool! How long do you think it would last for you? Tonight? Tomorrow night? Disgrace to your name.
That
you are ready to bear. But, by God and all the saints, I'll not suffer disgrace to mine. Come, you would-be harlot, your cloak.” He turned to the maid. “Get it,” he shouted, and the girl hurried to obey.

Compton stood looking at the Duke. He wondered how long such arrogance could survive at Court. But Buckingham was no youngster; he was
well past his thirtieth birthday; he should be able to look after himself, and if he valued his family pride more than his life, that was his affair.

Compton shrugged. He was faintly amused. It would be interesting to see how the spoiled golden boy responded to this.

Buckingham snatched the cloak from the maid's trembling hands and roughly threw it about his sister's shoulders.

“Where are you taking me?” she asked.

“To your husband who, if he takes my advice, will place you this night in a convent. A pallet in a cell for you, sister; that is what your lust shall bring you.”

Compton plucked the sleeve of the Duke's doublet.

“Do you realize that His Grace will not be pleased with you?”

“I,” retorted Buckingham haughtily, “am far from pleased with His Grace's attempt to seduce my sister. Nor do I care for pimps—even though they be the King's own—to lay hands on me.”

“Buckingham,” murmured Compton, “you fool, Buckingham.”

But Buckingham was not listening; he had taken his sister by the shoulders and pushed her before him from the room.

“
AND SO, YOUR GRACE
,” said Compton, “the Duke burst into his sister's apartment, bade her maid bring her cloak, and thereupon hustled her from the apartment with threats that he was taking her to her husband, and that the pair of them would see that this night she would lie in a convent.”

The King's eyes were narrow and through the slits shone like pieces of blue glass; his fresh color was heightened.

“By God and our Holy Mother!” he cried.

“Yes, Sire,” went on Compton. “I warned the Duke. I told him of Your Grace's pleasure.”

“And what said he?”

“He cared only for his sister's honor.”

“I planned to honor the woman.”

“‘Tis so, Sire. The Duke has another meaning for the word.”

“By God and his Holy Mother!” repeated the King.

Anything can happen now, thought Compton. The frisky cub is a young lion uncertain of his strength. He will not be uncertain long. Soon he will know its extent, and then it will go ill for any who oppose him.

Compton tried to read the thoughts behind those pieces of blue flint.

Frustrated desire! Now the lady seemed infinitely desirable. Out of reach in a convent! Could he demand her release? Could he have her brought to his apartments, laid on his bed? But what of the people, the people who adored him, who shouted their approval of their golden boy? They had seen him
embrace his wife whom he had married because he said he loved her more than any woman. The people wanted their handsome King to be a virtuous husband. What would they say if they heard the story of the King and Buckingham's sister? They would laugh; they would snigger. They might say: Well, he is a King, but he is a man as well. They would forgive him his frailty; but he wished to have no frailty in their eyes. He wished to be perfect.

His eyes widened and Compton saw that they were the eyes of a bewildered boy. The cub was not yet certain of his strength; he had not yet grown into the young lion.

Now there was anger on the flushed face…vindictive anger. He would not send for the woman and there would be no scandal. Yet he would not lightly forgive those who had frustrated him.

He turned on Compton. “How did Buckingham discover this?”

“It was through his sister—Your Grace may recollect that the Duke has two sisters—Anne, your Grace's… friend, and Elizabeth, Lady Fitzwalter.”

“I know her,” growled Henry. “She is with the Queen.”

“A lady of high virtue, Your Grace. And much pride, like her brother.”