So Henry had passed out of his babyhood. He must no longer stay under his mother’s influence. She should be grateful, she supposed, that they had allowed him to stay so long.
She thought: It will be easier now. There will be less attention focused on me. Perhaps I can live now like a humble country lady. That would suit her very well, for the most important part of her life was those hours she spent with Owen.
What an ecstatic relationship was theirs! Perhaps the more so because it was to be carried on with secrecy. Now that the King had left, important people had left with him. If she could go on living in obscurity in the country she must be thankful for this. She had contrived that Owen visit her bedchamber when the household was asleep, and he had climbed up and in at her window. But that could not go on for ever. It had been the happiest night of her life. Then she had been able to cast aside all pretence – for they had both pretended for many years; she that he was just a good squire; he that he was not in love with the Queen.
‘I love you,’ she told him twenty times during that first romantic night; and he had left her in no doubt that he shared her feelings.
She had come alive at last – alive as she had never been before. A fervent passion possessed her and she knew that it would be deep and abiding. She was not a girl any more to love romantically and this emotion had built up between them over the years. They had both tried to deny it, knowing that it would present difficulties, insurpassable difficulties they had seemed, but nothing was insurpassable before this torrent of love. It swept all aside. What cared she if he were a humble squire? What cared he if she were a Queen? They were lovers, meant for each other from the first moment they had been together. Now this love would not be denied. Her love for Henry had existed. But it was not to be compared with what she felt for Owen Tudor.
It was inevitable that those about her should notice the change in her. They saw the expression in her eyes when they alighted on the Tudor; they heard the inflection of her voice when she spoke of him.
Dame Alice and Joan Astley shook their heads together. They would not remain long, they knew, for their task was done. Their little one had been taken from their care and they were two sad women. When they were not talking of him and hoping that the Earl of Warwick would not be too harsh with him, they were wondering about the web the Queen was weaving about herself.
They were wistful. It had not been like a royal household. How pleasant it would have been to contemplate the arrival of more little ones who would be delivered to their care.
Dame Alice wondered whether she should warn the Queen that people were whispering about her and Owen Tudor.
Eleanor Cobham picked up the news. She prided herself on having what she called ‘her ear to the ground’.
She was greatly amused and lost no time in telling her lover of the rumours she had heard.
‘The Queen has a lover, eh?’ said Gloucester. ‘Well, are you surprised? Did you imagine the dear creature was living the life of a nun down there in the country? How did you think she spent her days?’
‘She was devoted to her son. But now he has gone she is following her own inclination it seems.’
‘I hope it is a worthy inclination.’
‘I have heard it is some humble squire. A Welshman at that.’
‘Is that so? Lucky squire! Katherine must be very loving to have chosen someone from the stables.’
‘They say they are deeply in love. That the Queen has always lived most virtuously before.’
Humphrey was thoughtful.
‘It is at such times that there is danger,’ he said. ‘She must not be allowed to forget that she is the Queen.’
It was a somewhat delicate subject. Eleanor had never suggested that Humphrey marry her, but he did wonder whether it was in her mind. He wondered how he would act if she started to bargain for marriage. Therefore he did not wish to discuss this passion of the Queen’s too closely. It could open up that other subject.
But he did think that the Queen’s future was a matter he should take up with the Council and he would do so without delay.
He must tread very carefully where his own affairs were concerned. As though to remind him of this there was more news of Jacqueline. Burgundy had defeated her completely and she had realised that she had no chance against him. She had signed a treaty at Delft in which she submitted to Philip’s wishes. She recognised him as her heir and co-Regent of her territories. By this she did not lose everything. But she had to promise that she would never marry without his consent for the form of marriage she had gone through with Gloucester was declared null and void. She renounced him utterly and accepted the fact that she had never been married to him.
The realisation had come to Katherine that she was to have a child. At first she was overwhelmed with joy. This seemed the perfect outcome of her love for Owen. Then she began to consider what this would mean.
She was a King’s widow. Where could she go while her child was born? Some women might be in a position to hide themselves away for a few months. It was difficult with a queen.
Moreover she was unmarried. Would it be possible for her and Owen to go through a ceremony of marriage? Why not? Her priest could marry them. This must be so now that there was to be a child. She would marry Owen and then proclaim to the world what she had done. The Council couldn’t stop her once the ceremony was over. Moreover what affair was it of any but herself and Owen? They had their work to do governing the country. What could the marriage of a late King’s widow mean to them? They could now concern themselves with the young King. They had taken him from her.
No, she was of no importance. She had been once, of course; and they had made full use of her to help bring about the peace between England and France. That was over. Henry was dead and she had been free for six years.
She was longing to tell Owen. How delighted he would be … and yet afraid. Only for her, of course. That was why he felt fear, as she did for him. For themselves each was ready to face whatever storm they had to, for the sake of what they had been to one another.
He came to her during the afternoon. Those who lived close to her could not help but know of the relationship between them, for it had been impossible to keep it secret from them. So Owen came and went frequently to her apartment and they were used to seeing him there.
She clung to him and then she told him. He was silent and she dared not look into his face.
When she did she saw that he was overjoyed and yet fearful, as she had known he would be, but the wonder of it was too great at the moment for him to give full vent to his fears.
‘Our child,’ he could only murmur. ‘Oh Katherine … my Queen … to think that you and I are to have a child.’
Then he was all concern for her. She must take care of herself. She would have to have special attendants … He stopped, remembering. Then he looked at her, fear uppermost now. ‘Katherine … how … ?’
‘I shall arrange it,’ she said. ‘I have faithful friends who will help me.’
He took her hand and kissed it. ‘We should marry,’ he said, ‘for the sake of the child.’
She nodded.
‘I could find a priest who would do it,’ she said. ‘And we will … simply … and speedily.’
‘Before the child …’
‘Oh yes, before the child is born. Owen, I shall send for Dame Alice and for Joan. They have been unhappy since Henry was taken from us. They will help me.’