I tried to talk to him about the future but he would not discuss it with me. I wondered whether he did with Kate for I knew that they were often together.
When Lord Remus paid us another visit Kate declared herself not in the least surprised. It was what she had expected, she said. He dined with us again and gave us more news of the Court. It seemed almost certain that the Cleves marriage would take place. The King was in excellent humor. He had walked up and down the nursery with young Prince Edward in his arms looking very pleased with the world. The Prince was a little pukey but his nurse, Mrs. Penn, guarded him like a dragon and wouldn’t allow the slightest wind to blow on him. The King had not been in such good spirits since the day he had married Anne Boleyn.
But it was not so much the King and Court which interested Lord Remus. It was Kate. When he had left she came to my bedroom and lay on the bed giggling.
“Methinks the hook is well into his lordship’s mouth,” she said. “Soon we shall haul him in.”
She was right. Within a week he was making a formal request to my father to pay court to Mistress Kate.
My father, so she told me, sent for her, and told her that Lord Remus was offering her marriage. He did not believe Kate would consider such a marriage, and she must not think that he would wish to force her into it.
“Force me, forsooth,” she cried to me. “As if I hadn’t angled for it! Think, Damask, a place at Court. I shall be there, right at the heart of things. I shall dance at Hampton and Greenwich. I shall ride at Windsor. Who knows, the King himself may look my way. I shall have jewels in plenty, fine gowns and servants to call my own.”
“And all you have to do is take Lord Remus as your husband.”
“I can do that, Damask.”
“You don’t love him, Kate.”
“I love what he has to offer.”
“You are mercenary.”
“If it is mercenary to be wise then mercenary I am.”
“So you will really marry this old man?”
“You will see, Damask.”
Kate was betrothed. She wore a big emerald on her finger and another at her throat. Her moods were startling. She was feverishly gay and suddenly melancholy. Sometimes she hinted that she might not marry after all and at others she laughed the idea of not doing so to scorn.
Once I went into her room and found her lying facedown on her bed staring straight before her.
“Kate,” I said, “you’re not happy.”
She studied the great emerald on her finger. “See how it glows, Damask. And it is just a beginning.”
“But happiness is not to be found in the glow of an emerald, Kate.”
“No? Tell me where then?”
“In the eyes of the one you love and who loves you.”
She threw back her head and laughed. But I saw the tears were near.
I was angry with her. Why should she do this? I hated the thought of her going to that old man; and since I had listened to Keziah’s ramblings images often forced themselves into my mind.
“Perhaps,” I said angrily, “it is of no consequence. You are incapable of love.”
“How dare you say that!”
“I dare,” I said, “because you are ready to sell yourself for emeralds.”
She was laughing again: “And rubies,” she said, “and sapphires, diamonds, and a place at Court.”
“It disgusts me.”
“Virtuous Damask, who has no need to sell herself but whose inheritance will choose a husband for her.”
But her smile was forced and her laughter brittle. I knew she was not as content as she wished me to believe.
Two months after Lord Remus first came to our house Kate and he were married. There was to be a grand celebration at the house and Clement and his scullions were working for days in the kitchens.
A disturbing thing happened on the night before the wedding. I went to Kate’s room because I was anxious to have a word with her. She was not there.
As the house had retired, I sat there waiting for her, but she did not come. I was afraid that she had run away, and I wondered whether to raise the household, but something within me warned me against that. It was four of the clock when she came in; her hair was streaming about her.
“Damask,” she cried, “what are you doing here?”
“I came here at midnight when the household retired to speak with you. I was anxious about you and you were not here. I thought of rousing the household.”
“You have not told anyone I was missing from my bedchamber, I hope.”
I shook my head. “No. I did not think you had run away on the eve of your wedding to the noble lord. Or if you had I thought that could wait until morning. Kate, where have you been?”
“You ask too many questions.”
“Kate, you have been with a lover.”
“Well, Mistress Prim. What have you to say to that?”
“Tomorrow is your wedding day.”
“And tonight I am free. And pry as much as you like tonight, cousin, for tonight is your last chance to do so.”
“You have forestalled your marriage vows.”
Kate laughed so much I thought she would have hysterics.
“Oh, what a wiseacre you are! Your hand has been asked in marriage by Rupert and Simon. That makes you so knowledgeable. But there is one you do not mention. Bruno. What of Bruno?”
“What…of Bruno?” I asked slowly.
“You do not know Bruno,” she said. “Who does? Think of him. A holy child and then to find he is the result of the sinful liaison between an erring monk and a serving girl whose life has been scarcely pure. Conceived on the Abbey grass…under a hedge. Oh, yes, surely they were discreet enough to take cover during the performance.”
“Kate,” I said, “what is the matter with you?”
“You do not know, Damask?” she said. “After all there is so little you know.”
“I know that you do not love the man you are going to marry. You have sold yourself for emeralds and a place at Court.”
“How dramatic we have become. How easy for you! Oh, yes, it is easy to say ‘All for love’ when you lose nothing by it.”
“Where have you been tonight? Are you playing fair with Lord Remus?”
“I don’t intend to satisfy your curiosity on that point. I think you are jealous of me, Damask. I have made my choice. I think it is a wise one. Tomorrow I shall go to Lord Remus and do what is expected of me.”
I went to my room. I could not sleep. I had thought I had understood Kate. But who understands any other human being?
The next day the wedding took place in our house chapel. Lord Remus was led in between two young bachelors whom he had brought in his suite and each of them wore the customary bridelace on branches of green broom attached to their arms. Kate looked beautiful. The seamstresses had been working for weeks on her gown of brocade and cloth of silver; her hair hung loose about her shoulders. Rupert carried the silver bridecup before her as they went in procession to the chapel and I walked behind her as her attendant. And all members of the household followed with the musicians playing sweet music and some of the maids carrying the big bridecake.
The ceremony was performed and as the bridecup was handed around Simon Caseman, who was standing behind me, whispered: “Your turn next.”
Bruno was with the party. He looked aloof and scornful and the day after Kate’s wedding he disappeared as mysteriously as he had appeared in the Christmas crib.
“I always knew,” said Clement, “that he was no ordinary being.”
A Child Is Born
THERE WAS NO TRACE of Bruno. Rumor was now certain that he was indeed the Holy Child, that Ambrose had lied under torture and had been killed for his blasphemy. As for Keziah there was evidence that she too had been submitted to torture. The wounds on her thighs would not heal and she had gone strange in the head since her “confession.” People were always ready to believe the fantastic.