Authors: Brenda Joyce
Elizabeth’s gaze was piercing, her laugh was cold. “If I choose to spare that rogue, my reason will have naught to do with his bastard babe.” Then her gaze narrowed. “Is it a son? Have the astrologers said so?”
“I have not tried to determine the babe’s sex,” Katherine said slowly.
“You will see an astrologer immediately,” Elizabeth said. “I want to know if your bear Liam a son.”
Katherine tried to fathom why. The queen was devious, what did she plan? Katherine could not decide.
Then the queen said, “Does John Hawke know yet?”
Katherine grew rigid. “No.”
The queen smiled again. “Then we must summon him. For he must be told.”
Dismay swept through Katherine. John Hawke had been the very last of her concerns—but suddenly he was the most immediate.
“Enter, Sir John,” the queen commanded.
Katherine stiffened as Hawke walked into the chamber, his gaze not on Elizabeth, but on her. He stared at her swollen stomach, which she made no attempt to hide. His own healthy color had faded.
Katherine desperately wished that she had had time to meet with him privately, to break the news gently, to learn what his real thoughts were. This time she refused to meet his gaze. She stared at his buckled shoes. Her pulse raced so forcefully that she felt faint.
“Look at me, Katherine,” Sir John said.
Katherine had no choice but to obey. His mouth was turned down, in bitterness and distaste. “I am sorry,” she said unsteadily. She did not think her fragile nerves could stand too much more.
“Tell me one thing,” John said as shakily. “Tell me that you regret every moment you have spent in his arms—in his bed.”
Katherine’s gaze flew to his. Her breath escaped. She opened her mouth to respond—to lie—but could not manage a single sound.
His jaw ground down. He looked away. “’Twas a foolish question, was it not?” he said to the room at large, or perhaps to himself.
And Katherine almost hated herself. Hawke was a good, noble man. He did not deserve this. He did not deserve her. He deserved someone who would love him, someone sweet and good, someone loyal. Yet she could not lie about what she had shared with Liam. She felt trapped in an impossible place—one with no escape.
The queen snapped. “A very foolish question, John. It makes no difference what Katherine felt then. What mat
ters is that she is here, now, carrying another man’s seed—but she is your wife.”
Katherine began to shake. But she said not a word. Surely he would divorce her soon enough, now that he knew the truth.
Hawke inclined his head, then turned to Katherine, his mouth tight. “Are you well, Katherine? Considering the circumstances?”
Katherine wet her lips. “I…I am distressed.”
“A not surprising state,” Hawke said. “The child—when is it due?”
“In July.”
He nodded, staring again at her stomach. He turned his head away.
“Sir John,” Elizabeth said sharply. “What do you intend to do with Katherine?”
Hawke’s expression was sardonic. “What would you have me do, Your Majesty? Divorce her? So she can take to the streets, perhaps as a strumpet—in order to feed her babe?”
“The lesson would serve her well,” the queen said.
Katherine was frozen. “I will go to my father,” she whispered.
John turned toward her. “FitzGerald is no better than a pauper. He can hardly feed his wife and son—but you would go to him? I think not.”
“She can be sent to France, from whence she came,” Elizabeth remarked. “We do not object should you send her to a nunnery to have her child, or should you wish to keep her there for her lifetime. We will gladly find a foster home for the babe.”
Katherine cried out. She faced John, seeking his gaze, a desperate plea in her green eyes. “No.”
“She will go to Hawkehurst,” John stated, staring at her, his jaw tight. “Where she belongs.”
Katherine gasped. She could not believe what she had heard. He did not intend to cast her aside? Surely she misunderstood him!
His brow lifted. “What did you expect, Katherine? For me to divorce you and allow you to beg for—or steal—
your bread? You are my wife. You may have enjoyed the damned pirate’s seduction, but you did not plan to be abducted by him—and had I not been so negligent that day, had I posted proper guards—the abduction would not have succeeded—and it would be my child you now bear.”
Katherine clasped her hands together. “You will not divorce me?” she gasped.
“The one thing I understand is duty, madam,” John said harshly. “My duty is to you—and to your child, as well.”
In spite of her shock, Katherine knew she was a lucky woman because even if Liam did not hang, she would never return to him—and she had a child to raise. A child she must feed, clothe, and rear at all costs. But, dear God, she did not feel lucky; she felt shameless and amoral, desperate and confused. She felt dismayed.
And her traitorous mind whispered,
How can you live without Liam?
Katherine sucked in a sob, refusing to listen to such madness.
The queen was applauding John’s words. “Well said, Sir John. But then, you are a very noble man.”
Hawke bowed his head again. “I wish to take my wife to Hawkehurst myself, on the morrow, with Your Majesty’s permission,” he said.
“Granted,” Elizabeth replied. “But with one condition.”
Both Hawke and Katherine turned to the queen, Katherine still stunned with disbelief.
Elizabeth smiled. “She is to remain far from London, in Cornwall. I do not wish to see hide nor hair of her, Sir John. I am most displeased with her conduct, and have no wish to set a contagion amongst my other good ladies of the court. Do you understand?”
Hawke nodded grimly.
Katherine stared. Exile. She was being condemned to an exile in Cornwall as punishment for her sins. She would reside there—as Hawke’s wife.
Hawke held out his hand. Katherine saw it but couldn’t touch it. Comprehension finally filled her. If she remained
with Hawke now, she would be breaking God’s law. No woman could have two husbands.
His mouth tightened and, very firmly, he took her arm. “And now I will take you to your lodgings,” he said. “I think it best if you stay in your chamber, Katherine, until we leave tomorrow.”
And as John led her away, Katherine flung a last, desperate glance over her shoulder, and met the queen’s triumphant and hostile gaze.
The queen had won. Yet Katherine had never dreamed that the outcome of their battle would be a forsaken exile for herself in Cornwall as Hawke’s wife. And it was Liam she thought of, disheveled and foul, bound in manacles, imprisoned in the Tower. Panic filled her breast.
How could she go with Hawke, when she was married to Liam? And if she left the court, how could she help Liam?
Outside the queen’s doors Katherine balked, spinning to face John, gripping his uniform. “John! There is something I must tell you,” she cried. “I…I am married to O’Neill—and I have the signed documents to prove it.”
H
awke stared at her, frozen.
Katherine realized what she had said. Her heart raced wildly, and she tried to think, but logic failed to come to her now. She did not know if she should have told him the truth, especially here and now, just outside the Queen’s Privy Chamber, with the ladies and gentlemen of the court staring at them and whispering to one another about them. But it was too late to take back her words, and somehow, she was relieved that she had declared the truth.
Hawke gripped her arm. “We will not talk here,” he ground out, and he moved her forward. Almost miraculously, the crowd parted to make way for them, and just before they exited the antechamber, Katherine’s glance found Anne’s. The baroness appeared genuinely sympathetic to her plight.
Then Katherine stumbled as she realized who stood behind Anne. Leicester stared at her.
Hawke held her firmly so she did not fall, saying, “Do those two belong to you?”
Katherine saw that Macgregor and Guy were following them. “Yes.” She hesitated. “I am fond of the boy, and Macgregor escorted me here. I was afraid to come alone.”
Hawke sent a quelling glance at Macgregor. “I have no need of pirates, and neither does Katherine. Not anymore.”
Katherine began to shake, realizing that she was going
to be truly alone now. “It’s all right,” she said softly to Guy and Macgregor. “I will be all right.”
Hawke said nothing as they hurried down a long corridor, leaving Macgregor and Guy behind. Once through the hall, Hawke’s grip upon her eased somewhat. They paused at the entrance to one of the covered walkways that led to other parts of the palace. His stare was impossible to read, but his blue gaze was powerful, immobilizing hers. Katherine could not look away from him. A lump seemed to have wedged itself in her throat.
“Tell me if I am wrong. You were as shocked as I was by O’Neill’s abduction of you on our wedding night.”
Katherine nodded slowly.
His stare was angry. “So he seduced you with his handsome face and ready smile.”
Katherine did not dare agree. She did not dare speak.
“And when he asked you to marry him, you eagerly agreed.”
Tears blurred her vision. “No, John,” she said softly. “’Twas not like that at all.”
“Then how was it?” he demanded.
“He dragged me to the church, ignoring my protests. He claimed that in all likelihood you had already divorced me. The Catholic priest there married us immediately.” Katherine did not continue. She hugged herself. She would never tell John that she had already been half in love with her captor, and had readily accepted their marriage once it was done.
“He forced you to marry him?” Hawke asked sharply.
She bit her lip. Hawke did not understand—and she could not explain. She blinked back tears. “Do I have two husbands? What shall I do?” she cried.
John took her arm again. When he spoke, his tone was soothing, kind—firm. “Does anyone else know of this marriage?”
She shook her head.
“Do not speak of it.”
“Why?” Suddenly she was panicked, afraid.
“Because we were legally wed, Katherine, regardless of your other, forced marriage, and the pirate will hang. I
have no intention of abandoning you now, in your time of need. What kind of man would I be?”
Katherine stared up at him, stunned.
“Do not mistake me,” he said grimly. “I am not pleased by any of this. But eventually, when the pirate is dead, we will be able to put all of this behind us. If I did not believe that, then perhaps I would abandon you as a lesser man would.”
Katherine was crying, shaking her head.
“Why do you weep?” John asked angrily. “For him? Do you love him?”
She pulled her arm from his and hugged herself again, uneasily, telling herself that she must not answer truthfully. “He is the father of my child. I do not wish to see him hang.”
“He will hang,” Hawke said firmly, “for the queen cannot show any leniency in this case. And it is for the best. It is best for everyone involved, and if you think carefully, if you think of the child, you will agree.”
Her child. A pirate-traitor’s babe. One the whole world would condemn as a bastard, and worse, condemn as Liam O’Neill’s son. Suddenly Katherine understood Liam completely, too late. Suddenly she understood what it had been like for him growing up, and what it was like for him living now, carrying the ugly burden of the fact of his paternity, unable ever to escape being Shane O’Neill’s son. Suddenly Katherine recalled every time she had taunted him, scorned him, and condemned him for being Shane O’Neill’s son. And she recalled their last vicious argument, when she had told him, untruthfully, that she could never love him because Shane O’Neill had been his father.
Katherine was sick, in her heart, in her soul. How could she have been so cold-hearted, so cruel?
And would her own child suffer as Liam had, for the sins and crimes of his father?
Katherine wiped her eyes, and looked up at John. “Will you raise my child?” she asked unevenly. “Will you be a good, kind father?” Her heart was breaking all over again.
Oh, Liam. I am sorry, but now I protect our child—I do!
“Not only will I be a good father to your child, Katherine, I will give him my name,” Hawke stated. “Even if it is a boy.”
A huge sob burst from Katherine’s throat. She could not speak, and was blinded now by her tears.
“And you, of course, shall give me my own sons,” he said.
Katherine turned her head away, unable to stop crying, nodding. She was a mother, and like any mother, would do whatever had to be done to protect and nourish her child. But God, how hard it was to accept her fate, how hard, how painful. Yet there was no choice. Not anymore, not for her. Because even if a miracle occurred, even if Liam escaped or were freed, she could not return to him—no matter that she knew now that she still loved him with all of her heart.
But Katherine had to face the heartrending face of reality. It did not appear that Liam would be pardoned, and no one escaped from the Tower. Only a miracle, it seemed, would save him.
And Katherine had stopped believing in miracles long ago.
She must do everything in her power to save Liam, she realized, everything—anything—it would be her parting gift to him, a gift of eternal love—the gift of life.
Katherine decided to remain in her room rather than go down to supper in the dining hall. She needed time to think and to plan, and had no wish anyway to face the curious and lewd stares of the court at the dinner meal. She and John had also agreed to postpone their journey to Cornwall for another few days, because of Katherine’s obvious exhaustion. Katherine was relieved. She had some small amount of time, then, to find a powerful ally to aid her in her cause to save Liam’s life.
And Katherine was seized with more determination now as well. For she could not survive if she did not see him before she departed for Cornwall. She did not know what she would do, or what she would say, if she succeeded in
finding a way to visit him secretly, she only knew that she must see him one more time. But how?
She did not dare turn to John.
A dark, handsome, saturnine image filled Katherine’s mind. His smile was seductive and dangerous, his intention bold, amoral, and amorous. Robert Dudley, the earl of Leicester. One of the most powerful men at court, nay, in all of England. He could help her—if he but chose to do so.
And Katherine knew exactly what price she would have to pay to gain his support. But pay it she would, in order to see Liam one more time—in order to save Liam’s life.
Katherine could not approach Leicester directly. She did not dare, recalling too well the queen’s threat to behead her should she ever slip into his bed. There was only one person Katherine trusted to serve as a messenger for her. She had already sent a message to Anne Hastings, asking her to come to her room.
Katherine jumped when she heard the knock upon her door. She was both relieved and terrified to espy Anne, who was smiling widely.
Anne entered her room; Katherine bolted the door behind her, and the two women hugged. “Katherine,” Anne exclaimed, “I am so glad to see you—how I worried about you this past year—how beautiful you are!”
“Thank you for coming to see me, Anne.”
“How could I not?” Anne was arch. “Katherine, you have spent close to a year with one of the most dangerous—and reputedly the most virile—of men! And you have followed him here despite your knowing the reception you would meet!”
Katherine sat down on the bed, staring at her friend.
Anne studied her. “Well? Is he as virile as it is said? Is he unsurpassable? Insatiable? You do not seem the worse for wear. And soon you will have his child.”
Katherine was disappointed with her friend. “Perhaps you should find out for yourself, Anne.”
“Oh! I have upset you! But can you blame me for imagining what he is like? My husband is old and fat and a lecher as well. There, there, dear, you are distraught. I
am happy for you, Katherine—to have enjoyed such a man. How I wish the pirate had abducted me.”
Katherine’s disappointment faded. Anne meant no harm. “I am afraid he will hang.”
“You have cause to fear. The queen detests traitors, and on principle will hang the most petty conspirator.”
“You are not soothing me.”
“I do not wish to soothe you. If you love your pirate, then you must be as clever as your mother was—you must politick for your cause, my dear. I can tell you this. Her advisors are divided. Cecil does not wish to see O’Neill hang.”
Katherine felt hope spark in her breast. “Lord Burghley often sways the queen!”
Anne held up a hand. “But Leicester despises O’Neill. He is pleased with this turn of events. He is advising Elizabeth to try him immediately, and he reminds her at every turn of the anarchy elsewhere in the world, and of the rebels plotting against her here in England—knowing that her fear of conspiracy will lead her to use Liam as an example to deter those others.”
Katherine’s heart lurched.
Leicester
. How right she was to have conceived of this plot. “Anne—I beg a single boon of you.”
Anne patted her hand. “If it is in my power, you know that I shall do it.”
“I wish for you to deliver a message to Leicester for me, immediately.”
Anne started, then stared. “Katherine!” Her eyes widened, filled with comprehension. “You know not what you do!”
“To the contrary. Anne, I know exactly what must be done.”
The chapel bells tolled the midnight hour. Nervously Katherine counted each ring. Her palms wet with sweat, her mouth dry, she sat upon a bench in the Privy garden, wrapped in her fur-lined cloak, shivering.
She saw him coming through the bare trees a moment later, the garden walls behind him. He was a tall, powerful,
black-cloaked figure, moving swiftly toward the arbor where she sat. Katherine’s nails curled into her palms. “My lord,” she called.
He changed direction and strode to her. Katherine rose to her feet. He stopped before her. She wore her hood and now she held the neck of it tightly at her throat.
Leicester smiled slightly. “Do you know what it did to me, to receive word that you wished to meet me—clandestinely?”
Katherine trembled. She did not speak. Moonlight spilled from the parting clouds, and she could see his handsome face quite clearly.
He reached out. Katherine stood still, not flinching no matter how she wished to move away, and he pushed back her hood. “God, you are so lovely,” he said harshly. His hand touched her cheek.
Katherine forced herself to stand utterly still. “I am fat now.”
Leicester’s dark gaze held hers. “You bear his child. ’Tis no surprise. I always knew you were made for taking a man’s seed, for bearing a man’s children.”
Katherine did not respond.
Leicester’s gaze roamed slowly over her face. “Did you think of me, sweetheart? When the pirate sheathed his cock inside your lovely body—did you think of me?”
Katherine tensed.
“I have thought of you often,” Leicester said. “I still want you. More now than before.” He smiled slightly, took her hand, pressed it against his groin. He was rock-hard.
Katherine pulled her palm away. “I am with child!”
“Some women enjoy a man more in such a state.”
Katherine was shocked and afraid. She had not thought he would be ardent, not now, not while she was so heavily pregnant. “Not I.”
“I do not believe you.” Leicester pulled her close. Katherine stiffened but did not resist, and was acutely aware of his manhood against her hip. “You are a woman of passion. I knew it from the first. But the proof is that O’Neill did not tire of you, that he kept you on that island
for almost an entire year. I imagine he has taught you many interesting ways to please a man.” Leicester’s mouth brushed hers. “But he has been imprisoned now for several weeks. Your body must be hot. I intend to take his place, Katherine.”
Katherine twisted to remove her mouth from further contact with his. She was short of breath. “Stop. Please.”
“But you summoned me,” he said too lightly. Then his gaze pierced hers. “What do you want of me, Katherine?”
Her hands pressed against his chest, a futile effort to put some small distance between their bodies. “I need your help.”
“I know. And I can guess in what manner you wish me to help you.”
Katherine stared at him.
He smiled at her. “The queen told me you begged quite prettily, quite capably, for your pirate lover’s life. Katherine, you are right to come to me. I alone can help you gain what you seek. The queen cannot refuse me.”
“Then you will convince her to spare Liam his life?” Katherine managed hoarsely.
“Are you prepared to pay the price I will demand?”
She nodded, her heart sinking with dread.
He smiled and rocked against her. “Tonight?”
“No!” She pushed away from him, consumed with panic.
He let her go, watching with interest. He was cool and confident, a predator stalking easy prey.
Panting, Katherine faced him. “First you must succeed in gaining Liam’s release. Afterward I will come to you. After my child is born.”