Katharine, The Virgin Widow - Plaidy Jean - Страница 8

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She went to Katharine and told her that the King would make an attempt to see her, and that on no account must he succeed.

Katharine was disturbed. She was afraid that the King of England might consider her extremely discourteous if she refused to receive him.

* * *

* * *

* * *

WHEN ARTHUR JOINED his father at East Hampstead, Henry noticed that his son looked wan and worried.

No, the King decided, the marriage shall not be consummated for a year. In any case I doubt whether Arthur would be capable of consummating it.

“Put your shoulders back, boy,” he said. “You stoop too much.”

Arthur obediently straightened his shoulders. There was no resentment. How differently young Henry would have behaved! But of course there would have been no necessity to criticize Henry’s deportment.

We should get more sons, thought the King anxiously.

“Well, my son,” he said, “very soon now you will be face to face with your bride.”

“Yes, Father.”

“You must not let her think that you are a child, you know. She is almost a year older than you are.”

“I know it, Father.”

“Very well. Prepare yourself to meet her.”

Arthur asked leave to retire and was glad when he reached his own apartment. He felt sick with anxiety. What should he say to his bride? What must he do with her? His brother Henry had talked slyly of these matters. Henry knew a great deal about them already. Henry ought to have been the elder son.

He would have made a good king, thought Arthur. I should have done better in the Church.

He let himself brood on the peace of monastic life. What relief! To be alone, to read, to meditate, not to have to take a prominent part in ceremonies, not to have to suffer continual reproach because a few hours in the saddle tired him, because he could never learn to joust and play the games at which Henry excelled.

“If only,” he murmured to himself, “I were not the first-born. If only I could miraculously change places with my brother Henry, how happy I could be!”

* * *

* * *

* * *

THE NEXT MORNING the King, with the Prince beside him, set out on the journey to Dogmersfield.

Almost immediately it began to rain, and the King looked uneasily at his son while Arthur squirmed in the saddle. His cough would almost certainly come back if he suffered a wetting, and although the rain was fine it was penetrating.

Arthur always felt that it was his fault that he had not been born strong. He tried to smile and look as though there was nothing he enjoyed so much as a ride in the rain.

When they were within a few miles of the Bishop’s Palace the King saw a rider galloping towards his party, and in a very short time he recognized the Spanish Ambassador Ayala.

Ayala drew up before Henry and sweeping off his hat bowed gracefully.

“News has been brought to me that Your Grace is on the way to see the Infanta.”

“That news is now confirmed,” answered the King. “So impatient was our young bridegroom that, having heard that the Infanta was at Dogmersfield, he could wait no longer. He himself has come hot-foot from Wales. He yearns to see his bride.”

Arthur tried to force his wet face into an expression which would confirm his father’s words as the Spanish Ambassador threw a sly smile in his direction which clearly conveyed his knowledge of the boy’s nervousness.

“Alas,” said Ayala, “Your Grace will be unable to see the bride.”

“I…unable to see the bride!” said the King in a cold, quiet voice.

“The King and Queen of Spain insist that their daughter should observe the customs of a high-born Spanish lady. She will be veiled until after the ceremony, and not even her bridegroom may see her face until then.”

The King was silent. A terrible suspicion had come into his mind; he was the most suspicious of men. Why should he not look on the face of the Infanta? What had the Spanish Sovereigns to hide? Was this some deformed creature they were sending him? “Not until after the ceremony.” The words sounded ominous.

“This seems a strange condition,” said Henry slowly.

“Sire, it is a Spanish custom.”

“I like it not.”

He turned his head slightly and said over his shoulder: “We will form a council, my lords. Here is an urgent matter to discuss. Ambassador, you will excuse us. It will take us but a short time to come to a decision, I imagine.”

Ayala bowed his head and drew his horse to the side of the road while the King waved a hand towards a nearby field.

“Come with us, Arthur,” he said. “You must join our council.”

Henry placed himself and his son in the center of the field and his followers ranged themselves about him. Then he addressed them:

“I like this not. I am denied admittance to my son’s bride although she is in my territory. I would not wish to go against the law in this matter. Therefore, the council must decide what should be done. The Infanta has been married to the Prince by proxy. What we must decide is whether she is now my subject; and, if she is my subject, what law could prevent my seeing her if I wished. I pray you, gentlemen, consider this matter, but make it quick for the rain shows no sign of abating and we shall be wet to the skin by the time we reach Dogmersfield.”

There was whispering among those gathered in the field. Henry watched them covertly. He had as usual conveyed his wishes and he expected his councillors to obey them. If any one of them raised objections to what he wished, that man would doubtless find himself guilty of some offence later on; he would not be sent to prison; he would merely have to pay a handsome fine.

All knew this. Many of them had paid their fines for small offences. The King thought no worse of them, once they had paid. It was their money which placated him.

In a few seconds the council had made its decision.

“In the King’s realm the King is absolute master. He need not consider any foreign law or customs. All the King’s subjects should obey his wishes, and the Infanta, having married the Prince of Wales, albeit by proxy, is the King’s subject.”

Henry’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction which held a faint tinge of regret. He could not, with justice, extract a fine from one of them.

“Your answer is the only one I expected from you,” he said. “It is not to be thought of that the King should be denied access to any of his subjects.”

He led the way out of the field to where Ayala was waiting for him.

“The decision is made,” he said. Then he turned to Arthur. “You may ride on to Dogmersfield at the head of the cavalcade. I go on ahead.”

He spurred his horse and galloped off; and Ayala, laughing inwardly, closely followed him.

The Sovereigns of Spain would learn that this Henry of England was not a man to take orders, thought the ambassador. He wondered what Dona Elvira was going to say when she was confronted by the King of England.

* * *

* * *

* * *

KATHARINE WAS SITTING with her maids of honor when they heard the commotion in the hall below. It had been too miserable a day for them to leave the Bishop’s Palace and it had been decided that they should remain there until the rain stopped.

Elvira burst on them, and never had Katharine seen her so agitated.

“The King is below,” she said. Katharine stood up in alarm.

“He insists on seeing you. He declares he will see you. I cannot imagine what their Highnesses will say when this reaches their ears.”

“But does not the King of England know of my parents’ wishes?”

“It would seem there is only one whose wishes are considered in this place and that is the King of England.”

“What is happening below?”

“The Count of Cabra is telling the King that you are not to be seen until after the wedding, and the King is saying that he will not wait.”

“There is only one thing to be done,” said Katharine quietly. “This is England and when we are in the King’s country we must obey the King. Let there be no more protests. We must forget our own customs and learn theirs. Go and tell them that I am ready to receive the King.”

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