choice.’
Catherine crosses to the window, with its splendid view of the River Thames, still bustling with boats despite the late hour. ‘I am tired of being treated like I have no mind of my own, with no opinions, as if I am of no consequence.’ She turns to face me. ‘I do have a choice—and I don’t think even Duke Humphrey cares what I do any more. Did he ask you if I have had any visitors?’
‘No. He seemed more interested in talking about himself.’
‘You see?’ Catherine holds both of my hands in hers and looks into my eyes. ‘He thinks he has made it impossible for me to marry. What if I marry someone who has no lands for him to confiscate?’
I feel a cold sense of foreboding. ‘What do you mean?’
Catherine laughs at my innocence. ‘If I were to marry you, what could they do?’
‘Well, they could have me hanged at Tyburn. Publicly flogged?’
‘Not while I still have breath left in me they won’t!’
There is new fire in her eyes and I realise she is serious. ‘Would you marry me?’ I hold my breath, waiting for her answer.
‘Are you asking me, Owen Tudor?’
I take her hand. ‘I love you, Catherine, as deeply as a man can love a woman.’ I kiss her softly on the lips and pull her closer so I can look into her beautiful blue eyes. ‘I will always love you, until the end of my days, as God is my witness. Will you be my wife, Catherine?’
‘I will.’ She hugs me so hard the old wound to my rib begins to hurt, and then whispers in my ear, as if we are likely to be overheard. ‘I love you, Owen. We must marry in secret, so by the time they find out it will be too late.’
‘ We cannot stay in Wallingford.’ My head is buzzing as I start thinking about the practical consequences. ‘It will be best if we find somewhere safe, as I dare not think what will happen when word gets out.’
‘Find us somewhere,’ she smiles, ‘if anyone can do it, you can.’
‘What do you think Duke Humphrey will say when he learns what we’ve done?’
Catherine laughs, her eyes shining with happiness. ‘Duke Humphrey and the cardinal—and all those who would have me locked away and forgotten—can say whatever they wish!’
Everything changes from that moment and all the things which were so important become irrelevant. The only person I dare to take into my confidence is Nathaniel. The former clerk is now responsible for the finances of the queen’s household and the two of us have become close friends over the years. I need Nathaniel’s help if our plan is to have any chance of success and arrange to meet in my study at Wallingford.
I see he knows me well enough to guess I am about to say something important. Once again I worry I am putting Nathaniel in danger by involving him, but this time I have no choice.
I take a deep breath. ‘Catherine has agreed to marry me.’ Even as I say the words the idea sounds absurdly reckless.
Nathaniel raises his eyebrows in surprise. ‘I must congratulate you... although I don’t see how they will ever allow such a thing.’
‘That is why I’m telling you first. They will never allow it, so it has to be done in secret—and kept secret until it’s too late for them to stop us.’
Nathaniel sits back in his chair and strokes his new beard which makes him look older. Eventually he speaks. ‘We need to find someone prepared to conduct the service.’
‘It doesn’t have to be a priest, although I know Catherine will want the marriage to be blessed, even if it has to be done in secret.’
Nathaniel agrees. ‘It will help if they have influence at the Council of Westminster, someone whose word will not be questioned.’
‘Such as a bishop?’ I see the sense of Nathaniel’s suggestion.
‘A bishop would be ideal, if you can find one who does not feel obliged to inform Cardinal Beaufort.’
‘Bishop Philip Morgan of Ely is a Welshman, wealthy enough not to need Cardinal Beaufort’s support—and influential enough not to worry about
Catherine crosses to the window, with its splendid view of the River Thames, still bustling with boats despite the late hour. ‘I am tired of being treated like I have no mind of my own, with no opinions, as if I am of no consequence.’ She turns to face me. ‘I do have a choice—and I don’t think even Duke Humphrey cares what I do any more. Did he ask you if I have had any visitors?’
‘No. He seemed more interested in talking about himself.’
‘You see?’ Catherine holds both of my hands in hers and looks into my eyes. ‘He thinks he has made it impossible for me to marry. What if I marry someone who has no lands for him to confiscate?’
I feel a cold sense of foreboding. ‘What do you mean?’
Catherine laughs at my innocence. ‘If I were to marry you, what could they do?’
‘Well, they could have me hanged at Tyburn. Publicly flogged?’
‘Not while I still have breath left in me they won’t!’
There is new fire in her eyes and I realise she is serious. ‘Would you marry me?’ I hold my breath, waiting for her answer.
‘Are you asking me, Owen Tudor?’
I take her hand. ‘I love you, Catherine, as deeply as a man can love a woman.’ I kiss her softly on the lips and pull her closer so I can look into her beautiful blue eyes. ‘I will always love you, until the end of my days, as God is my witness. Will you be my wife, Catherine?’
‘I will.’ She hugs me so hard the old wound to my rib begins to hurt, and then whispers in my ear, as if we are likely to be overheard. ‘I love you, Owen. We must marry in secret, so by the time they find out it will be too late.’
‘ We cannot stay in Wallingford.’ My head is buzzing as I start thinking about the practical consequences. ‘It will be best if we find somewhere safe, as I dare not think what will happen when word gets out.’
‘Find us somewhere,’ she smiles, ‘if anyone can do it, you can.’
‘What do you think Duke Humphrey will say when he learns what we’ve done?’
Catherine laughs, her eyes shining with happiness. ‘Duke Humphrey and the cardinal—and all those who would have me locked away and forgotten—can say whatever they wish!’
Everything changes from that moment and all the things which were so important become irrelevant. The only person I dare to take into my confidence is Nathaniel. The former clerk is now responsible for the finances of the queen’s household and the two of us have become close friends over the years. I need Nathaniel’s help if our plan is to have any chance of success and arrange to meet in my study at Wallingford.
I see he knows me well enough to guess I am about to say something important. Once again I worry I am putting Nathaniel in danger by involving him, but this time I have no choice.
I take a deep breath. ‘Catherine has agreed to marry me.’ Even as I say the words the idea sounds absurdly reckless.
Nathaniel raises his eyebrows in surprise. ‘I must congratulate you... although I don’t see how they will ever allow such a thing.’
‘That is why I’m telling you first. They will never allow it, so it has to be done in secret—and kept secret until it’s too late for them to stop us.’
Nathaniel sits back in his chair and strokes his new beard which makes him look older. Eventually he speaks. ‘We need to find someone prepared to conduct the service.’
‘It doesn’t have to be a priest, although I know Catherine will want the marriage to be blessed, even if it has to be done in secret.’
Nathaniel agrees. ‘It will help if they have influence at the Council of Westminster, someone whose word will not be questioned.’
‘Such as a bishop?’ I see the sense of Nathaniel’s suggestion.
‘A bishop would be ideal, if you can find one who does not feel obliged to inform Cardinal Beaufort.’
‘Bishop Philip Morgan of Ely is a Welshman, wealthy enough not to need Cardinal Beaufort’s support—and influential enough not to worry about
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