to me. I stared stolidly before me, concentrating on the crumbs on the table as if they held some message. ‘Madness would be better than uncontrollable lust.’ A soft laugh drove the blade into my unsuspecting flesh.
The heads were together again. ‘It’s always a problem if the bride is foreign and of a managing disposition. She’ll want to introduce French ways. Pursue French policies.’ There was an inhalation of scandalised breath. ‘Will she expect us to speak French with her?’
‘Will she seduce our young courtiers, do you suppose, climbing into their beds when the King is away?’
By this time I was horror-struck. Was this what the English though of me, before the knot was barely tied? A dabbling French whore? And would I be expected to take these women as my damsels? Would I have no choice in the matter?
‘She doesn’t have much to say for herself. Barely two words.’
They are cruel
, a voice whispered in my head.
They don’t like you. They mean to hurt you
.
I knew it to be true. They had already damned me, dismissed me as inadequate for my new role. I tried to close my ears but a little interlude of quietness fell, while theminstrels quaffed ale and the musicians tucked into any passing platter they could waylay.
‘She doesn’t look like a managing woman. More a timid mouse.’
Resentment surged beneath my black and gold bodice. This should have been a moment of spectacular satisfaction for me, a celebratory feast. The Mayor of Paris had sent Henry wagons full to the brim with barrels of wine in grateful thanks that he had not razed their city walls to the ground. My mother’s lips might twist at their treacherous pandering as she drank the fine vintage, but the quality was beyond compare.
Above my head the banners of English leopards and Valois fleurs-de-lys hung heavy in the hot air. I should have been exultant. At my side sat the most powerful man in Europe, and to my mind the most handsome, so how could I be so foolish as to allow these English women to destroy my pleasure? The clear voices continued in inexhaustible complaint.
‘She looks cold.’
‘Do you suppose our Henry can thaw her?’
‘He’ll need to. He’ll expect a son before the year is out.’
‘But can he be sure that any child is his?’
I grew even colder, isolated on a little island in the midst of a sea of conversation that did not include me, any reply I might have sought to make frozen in my mouth. Momentarily I felt the urge to stretch out a hand to touch Henry’s sleeve, for him to come and rescue me from thisunkindness, and I almost did, but Henry was tearing a flat round of bread, placing the pieces at right angles to each other to represent—well, I wasn’t sure what.
‘There’s trouble brewing here,’ he pointed out. ‘And here.’
‘It’s not insoluble,’ Clarence stated. ‘If we can take the town of Sens.’
More warfare. Dismay was a hard knot in my belly. I drew my hand back.
‘Sens—that’s the fortress that’s the key to this.’ Henry nodded. ‘We can’t postpone it. Their defiance will only encourage others.’
‘There’s still time to celebrate your wedding, Hal.’ And I discovered that Henry’s brother, Lord John, was smiling at me. ‘You have a young bride to entertain.’
‘Of course.’ Henry turned his head, his eyes alight, his face animated, his smile quick and warm when he saw I had been listening. ‘But my wife will understand. I need to be at Sens. You do understand, don’t you, Katherine?’
‘Yes, my lord.’ I wasn’t sure what it was that he hoped I would understand, but it seemed to be the answer he required from me, for he began once more to reorganise the items on the table.
‘And after Sens has capitulated…’
I sighed and kept my eyes lowered to the gold plate before me. Where had
that
come from? I wondered. Any gold plate we had had been sold or pawned—or was in Isabeau’s personal treasury. So probably it was English,brought for
The heads were together again. ‘It’s always a problem if the bride is foreign and of a managing disposition. She’ll want to introduce French ways. Pursue French policies.’ There was an inhalation of scandalised breath. ‘Will she expect us to speak French with her?’
‘Will she seduce our young courtiers, do you suppose, climbing into their beds when the King is away?’
By this time I was horror-struck. Was this what the English though of me, before the knot was barely tied? A dabbling French whore? And would I be expected to take these women as my damsels? Would I have no choice in the matter?
‘She doesn’t have much to say for herself. Barely two words.’
They are cruel
, a voice whispered in my head.
They don’t like you. They mean to hurt you
.
I knew it to be true. They had already damned me, dismissed me as inadequate for my new role. I tried to close my ears but a little interlude of quietness fell, while theminstrels quaffed ale and the musicians tucked into any passing platter they could waylay.
‘She doesn’t look like a managing woman. More a timid mouse.’
Resentment surged beneath my black and gold bodice. This should have been a moment of spectacular satisfaction for me, a celebratory feast. The Mayor of Paris had sent Henry wagons full to the brim with barrels of wine in grateful thanks that he had not razed their city walls to the ground. My mother’s lips might twist at their treacherous pandering as she drank the fine vintage, but the quality was beyond compare.
Above my head the banners of English leopards and Valois fleurs-de-lys hung heavy in the hot air. I should have been exultant. At my side sat the most powerful man in Europe, and to my mind the most handsome, so how could I be so foolish as to allow these English women to destroy my pleasure? The clear voices continued in inexhaustible complaint.
‘She looks cold.’
‘Do you suppose our Henry can thaw her?’
‘He’ll need to. He’ll expect a son before the year is out.’
‘But can he be sure that any child is his?’
I grew even colder, isolated on a little island in the midst of a sea of conversation that did not include me, any reply I might have sought to make frozen in my mouth. Momentarily I felt the urge to stretch out a hand to touch Henry’s sleeve, for him to come and rescue me from thisunkindness, and I almost did, but Henry was tearing a flat round of bread, placing the pieces at right angles to each other to represent—well, I wasn’t sure what.
‘There’s trouble brewing here,’ he pointed out. ‘And here.’
‘It’s not insoluble,’ Clarence stated. ‘If we can take the town of Sens.’
More warfare. Dismay was a hard knot in my belly. I drew my hand back.
‘Sens—that’s the fortress that’s the key to this.’ Henry nodded. ‘We can’t postpone it. Their defiance will only encourage others.’
‘There’s still time to celebrate your wedding, Hal.’ And I discovered that Henry’s brother, Lord John, was smiling at me. ‘You have a young bride to entertain.’
‘Of course.’ Henry turned his head, his eyes alight, his face animated, his smile quick and warm when he saw I had been listening. ‘But my wife will understand. I need to be at Sens. You do understand, don’t you, Katherine?’
‘Yes, my lord.’ I wasn’t sure what it was that he hoped I would understand, but it seemed to be the answer he required from me, for he began once more to reorganise the items on the table.
‘And after Sens has capitulated…’
I sighed and kept my eyes lowered to the gold plate before me. Where had
that
come from? I wondered. Any gold plate we had had been sold or pawned—or was in Isabeau’s personal treasury. So probably it was English,brought for
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