Virginia Henley (46 page)

Catherine left before her mother emerged from her bedchamber. She had a good idea where she would find Patrick. He had a man’s healthy appetite and would be seeking food at this early hour. When she spotted his tall figure in the Great Hall, her heart did a somersault and she wondered if it would always be so. He was talking with the Lord Chamberlain, who usually displayed a haughty manner because of his supreme power in allocating lodgings at Court. Today, however, his manner was ingratiating toward Hepburn. She watched Patrick nod and the Lord Chamberlain bow deeply.

“Good morning, sweetheart.” He took her hand to his lips and smiled intimately into her golden eyes. “I have just been offered one of the most commodious apartments in the palace.”

“That’s amazing. The chamberlain is not known to be generous.”

“Not amazing.” He grinned. “He is aware I am cousin to the king and is bribing me to put in a good word for him with James.”

Her eyes widened. “All will now depend on James’s pleasure. Everyone at Court will be filled with hope and fear and uncertainty about the offices they hold, and even their palace accommodation. Nothing will remain the same.”

“Many of the English nobles are wondering if they will be ousted by favorites from Scotland.” He led her to a seat and immediately servers rushed up to offer them breakfast. He gazed about the Great Hall, where the courtiers dined and which opened into the Presence Chamber. “Once the king arrives, this place will be like a circus. There will be the equivalent of performing dogs, clowns, trick ponies, tumblers and even fire-eaters, all juggling for position.”

She slanted him a sly glance. “And which will you be?”

He winked at her. “I shall be the magician, of course.”

Cat nibbled her bread and honey and sipped some rose water, and then she simply sat and gazed at him. “I love to watch you eat.”

“You’ll have the rest of your life to watch me. If you are finished eating, I want you to go upstairs and change. Today is not a day of mourning; it is a day of celebration. James won’t take kindly to those subjects wearing black. You have such beautiful clothes, Cat. I don’t want you looking like a nun on our wedding day. I would feel as if I were robbing a convent.”

She drew in a swift breath, “Mother—”

“Ah, yes. Mother. She is the next item on my agenda.”

Patrick escorted Catherine to her chambers. He remained at the door. “Tell your mother I would like a word with her.”

Isobel, draped in black, came listlessly to the door.

“Lady Spencer, would you do me the honor of walking with me? No one is more familiar with Whitehall, and I would appreciate your help in learning the layout of the palace.” He offered his arm.

“Why, of course, Lord Stewart.” She was mildly surprised yet flattered at his request. She looked with approval at his black doublet, took his arm and walked at his side. “I am in deepest mourning, and my heart is heavy with sorrow. The loss of my queen fills me with a melancholy I cannot shake. I know not what will become of me now that my position at Court has been lost.”

He covered her fingers that lay on his arm with his own large hand. “My dear Lady Spencer, whatever makes you think your position has been lost? You are a Scot. With all your dedication and experience as head of the Wardrobe Department, who better to take charge of Queen Anne’s wardrobe? She is a young, attractive woman with a keen interest in clothes. She will need a knowing hand to guide her in matters pertaining to a wardrobe that is fitting for a Queen of England. One door has been closed, but another threshold beckons you to step into a new golden era.”

“But ... but I have never even met Queen Anne ...”

“My dear Lady Spencer, that is easily remedied. I myself will present you and sing your praises. I have an idea!” he declared as if it had just occurred to him. He led her out into the gardens. “The queen and her household, her children and ladies, will have to travel in short stages with many stops along the way. Why don’t you and Lady Catherine offer them the hospitality of Spencer Park? Hertfordshire could be their last stop before they arrive in the capital. I know that planning for a royal visit would take a great deal of skill and know-how, but for a lady with your ability it could be a triumph.”

Isobel gave him her full attention. “You think she’d accept?”

“Not only would Queen Anne accept, she would be eternally grateful for your generous hospitality. She has already asked Liz Carey to take charge of her youngest son, Prince Charles.”

“Really? Since you are second cousin to King James, I imagine you have a great deal of influence with the royal family.”

“A certain influence,” he admitted modestly.

“Spencer Park belongs to Catherine, but I’m sure I can persuade her to invite Queen Anne and her Court.” Her face was animated.

“With my voice added to yours, I am
sure
we can persuade her. I have asked Lady Catherine to be my wife, Isobel.”

She looked stunned. “You wish to marry my daughter?”

“I do,” he said firmly. “Your father, Lord Winton, as well as King James have approved the match. Do we have your blessing?”

She blinked rapidly as her mind quickly grasped the advantages of uniting her family with a Stewart. “I think it a splendid match, my lord. Catherine will need a firm hand if she is to become a worthy Lady Stewart. She is impulsive and willful.”

“I appreciate your advice, Isobel,” Hepburn said solemnly. “I expect the king to arrive this afternoon. I’m sure you will want to change your gown before you greet His Majesty. I believe blue is your special color, Lady Spencer. It’s Anne’s favorite too.”

She threw him a coy look. “I believe you can maneuver your way about the Court of Whitehall extremely well, without any help from me, your lordship.”

The woman who returned to the apartment bore little resemblance to the Isobel Spencer who had left with Patrick Hepburn. Gone was the air of tragedy that had made her seem as if she were in a trance. Vanished was the melancholy mood that made her droop like a wilted flower. In their place was an air of purpose and resolve.

“Maggie, is my blue gown here or at Richmond Palace?”

“Ye have two or three; I’m sure there’s one in yer wardrobe.”

“Good! We must put away our mourning and prepare ourselves to welcome James Stuart, our new King of England. There is no time to waste. He’s coming this afternoon. He could be here now!”

Surprised but pleased at Isobel’s attitude, Maggie searched the back of the wardrobe until she found a blue dress.

“Catherine!” Isobel took the gown from Maggie and gestured toward Cat’s chamber. “Tell her she must change out of black.”

Maggie opened the door, slipped inside and found Catherine standing before her mirror fastening a lavender-colored ruff about her neck. It set off her cream silk gown embroidered with tiny purple thistles. “I’ll get yer amethyst combs for yer hair and Audra’s jeweled knife.” She unlocked the jewel casket. “I don’t know what’s come o’er yer mother. She’s actually changing into a blue gown to meet the new king, begod!”

Catherine’s eyes sparkled. “Patrick Hepburn has come over her. He’s a magician!”

“Well, he’s certainly waved his magic wand over Isobel!”

Cat couldn’t suppress her laughter. “That sounds risqué.”

“I warrant his lordship’s wand is a formidable tool that no woman can resist.”

Fortunately, I don’t have to.
Cat blushed at her own thoughts.

“Maggie, I need help with my hair.” Isobel opened the door and stopped on the threshold. “What a clever minx you are to choose a gown with a Scottish emblem. Lord Stewart told me he had asked you to become his wife and that you had accepted him.”

Catherine was hesitant.
Is it possible that she isn’t going to make a scene?
“I did accept, Mother.” She held out her hand. “This is my betrothal ring.”

Isobel took her hand and gaped at the large emerald surrounded by diamonds. “Do you know, I believe you are like me, after all, Catherine. How very shrewd of you to snare a husband who will have power at Court. This marriage will elevate not only you but your family as well. We must make wedding plans. Who would have thought the Seton name would carry more weight than Spencer?”

Catherine was so relieved that her mother was not furious about her pledge to Hepburn that she decided it would be politic to agree with everything Isobel said. “Do I hear someone knocking?”

Maggie opened the door and held it wide.

“Surprise!” Arbella entered with a flourish and did a little pirouette to show off her traveling outfit. “No more ghastly white dresses for me. Oh, Cat, I’m deliriously happy to be back!”

“Arbella! Everything at Court is changing so quickly.”

“I am now extremely high in the pecking order. How fortuitous that my dear father and King James’s father were brothers.”

“I, too, am Scottish, Lady Arbella,” Isobel said importantly.

Cat and Maggie rolled their eyes at each other.

“The chamberlain has given me new rooms. I’m no longer confined to the ladies’ quarters under the hateful eye of that dragon, Throckmorton. I intend to find myself a husband.”

“My daughter, Catherine, is to be married to Lord Stewart.”

“You’re to marry Hepburn?” Arbella’s lips tightened with chagrin. “I met him at Leicester, and the devious devil never gave me a hint! When is the wedding to be?”

“Arbella, why don’t you show me your new chambers?” Catherine changed the subject quickly. Hepburn had his own ideas about when they would be wed, and it was Patrick who would make the decision.

“My maid is unpacking for me. Come and help me choose a gown and we can go down and welcome my cousin Jamie together.”

“Where on earth can she be?” Patrick didn’t expect Robert Carey to know; he was simply voicing his frustration. James Stuart had arrived at Whitehall accompanied by Cecil, his Secretary of State, more than an hour ago. Dozens of noble Scots, as well as the multitude of English courtiers who had ridden out to welcome their new king, were arriving by the minute.

“Take it from a man with a wife and sisters; females take an inordinate amount of time dressing and primping so they will look lovely in our eyes when there is a special occasion.”

Hepburn laughed. “Don’t delude yourself. Women dress for other women. They love to outdo one another.”

“You are a cynical devil, Patrick.”

“Mea culpa!”
He was too cynical to believe in love, and yet the feelings that Catherine stirred in him were profound. He was highly attracted to everything about her ... her beauty, her elegance, her wit, her impulsiveness and her deep passion for life. He felt both possessive and protective of her and admitted to a towering pride that the exquisite lady was his and his alone. He wanted her on his arm so that he could show off his great marriage prize to this throng that composed the Court of King James.

“The Great Hall, Guard Chamber and Presence Chamber have never been this crowded. I think James is enjoying the attention.”

“I went to the kitchens for food before daybreak and found it a hive of activity with preparations for special dishes for tonight’s reception. I warrant there could be no better time for a wedding.”

It took Carey a moment to comprehend Hepburn’s meaning. “You intend to wed Catherine this afternoon?”

Patrick nodded. “If the lady in question ever deigns to put in an appearance.”

Robert frowned. “Cat has agreed? She wishes to marry you?”
Only a short time ago, this marriage would have been out of the question. Both the queen and Isobel would have forbidden it. Now Hepburn is in a position to take whatever he desires.

His grin was wolfish. “Lady Catherine wants what I want.”

“Patrick! It’s a good thing you are so tall or I would never have found you in this crowd.” Cat reached out to touch him.

Hepburn took possession of her hands and drew them to his lips. His dark eyes devoured her. “My sweetheart, the wait was worth it.”

Robert saw the intimate look they exchanged and knew that any witnessing it would recognize they were bound lovers.
When was it that Catherine stopped being a child and became a woman?
He answered his own question.
When she laid eyes on Hepburn.

“Oh, hello, Robert, I didn’t see you,” she said breathlessly and gave him a radiant smile. “Is Liz here with you?”

“No, she will be traveling with Queen Anne.”

Patrick took Cat’s arm possessively. “Come, I will tell you about Liz’s royal appointment as we walk.”

Arbella looked at Robert. “Hepburn has swept her off her feet.” She watched the crowd part for them. He was wearing a deep purple doublet, the same shade as the thistles embroidered on Catherine’s cream-colored silk. “They look like actors on a stage.”

Robert agreed.
Catherine has given him her heart. I pray Hepburn is not merely playing a part.

 

“Queen Anne put Liz in charge of three-year-old Prince Charles and his household as a reward for Robert’s services to the Crown.”

“What services?” Cat asked Hepburn.

“It’s not for me to say. You’ll have to ask Robert. Anne is clever. By this appointment she demonstrates that she places complete confidence in an English lady, which will endear her to her new subjects.”

“You suggest the queen did it for political expedience.”

“Don’t look down your beautiful nose at expedience, Cat. It is a powerful motivator. I suggested to your mother that if she wants to be in charge of Queen Anne’s Wardrobe, she must get your permission to offer the hospitality of Spencer Park to the queen and her entourage on their long trek to London. Isobel instantly saw it was expedient and miraculously cast off her mourning.”

So, Mother was not mourning Elizabeth; she was mourning her position at Court.
“You found her weakness and manipulated her!”