“So,” he said, “how goes it with you, Kate? How feels it to be my wife?”
“My lord,” I replied, “it makes me wondrous happy.”
“That is what I wanted to hear…and truth it is…is it not?”
“It is the truth, my lord.”
“Then I am the happiest man…not only in France but in the whole world. There will be a feast today. It must be so. In truth, Kate, I think these feasts a waste of time.”
I nodded, smiling.
How wonderful it was to be together. There was an intimacy between us, but I felt there was much of him which I had yet to know.
I was able to meet his two brothers during that morning. I warmed toward them because it was clear that they both admired him.
There was Thomas, Duke of Clarence, and the younger Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester. I should not have wanted to marry either of them. Thomas looked rather delicate and Henry told me afterward that he had sent him home after the fall of Harfleur because he was anxious about his health. Humphrey was different. I could see he had great vitality. He was very handsome and—said Henry—aware of it.
After the meeting Henry talked a little of them.
He said: “You will get to know my brothers very well in time. They are my good friends all of them.”
I said that I had seen by their expressions that they honored him and were very proud of him.
He smiled at that, well pleased that I had noticed or that they had betrayed their feelings.
“Then there is John,” he went on, “the Duke of Bedford. He is younger than Thomas. Humphrey is, of course, the youngest.”
I had guessed that that was a sore point with Humphrey. I felt he must be rather vain—although he had been very gracious and charming…perhaps a little too charming? The idea occurred to me that I might have to be a little wary of Humphrey.
But this was no time for misgivings. I had been married but one day and I had every hope that a happy future lay before me. I thought there would be weeks ahead when Henry and I would get to know each other really well; I was sure that the more I knew of him, the more attractive I would find him.
I had a rather rude awakening at the banquet that afternoon. We were side by side on the royal dais, contentedly listening to the musicians. It was a great delight to find that Henry was fond of music. He played the harp, as I did. He would play to me, he said. I should play to him; and we should play together.
One of the courtiers was talking to Henry, saying what a happy occasion this was, with which Henry agreed.
“We must celebrate it, Sire, so that the French do not forget.”
“I promise you this is something which will never be forgotten,” replied Henry.
“But there must be celebrations, my lord.”
“What do you suggest?” asked Henry.
“Well, in the first place, we should stage a tournament. We should show the French our skill.”
Henry was silent for a few seconds. Then he said coolly: “Tomorrow we lay siege to Sens.”
“My lord! So soon!”
“It is not soon. It is late. And there you may tourney to your heart’s content…not in play, sir, but in very truth. I do not anticipate great resistance. But we do not dally here celebrating my wedding…while there is work to be done.”
The man looked crestfallen and moved away.
I said: “Is this true? Are you going to fight tomorrow?”
“Yes,” he said. “I shall begin to take Sens tomorrow.”
“But,” I began, “it is so soon after …”
“War waits for no man, Kate. I have you. You are mine now. We shall be near. I shall keep you with me. Have no fear. You will be safe…and when there is time, I shall come to you that you may console and comfort me.”
He smiled at me tenderly. I wanted to protest, but I knew him well enough to understand that nothing would deter him.
So…two days after our wedding, he was planning to continue to beat down any resistance in the country he had already won.
Well, I had married a soldier…a conqueror. I should have to remember what was important to him. He loved me…in his way, but nothing could prevent his going to war when he thought it necessary. Conquest…marriage…they came in that order.
I did wonder then if it was plain Kate of whom he was enamored or was it the Princess of France?
We had been married such a short time and already he was planning to go to war.
So two days after my wedding day I was alone. He had girded on his armor and gone, though not far.
He had said: “This will take but a short time. Soon I shall be back with you.”
“And then?” I asked.
He stood looking at me, raising his eyebrows questioningly.
“And then,” I went on, “there will still be war.”
He came toward me and took me roughly into his arms. He planted a rather noisy kiss on my lips.
“You’re a soldier’s wife, Kate. And a soldier follows the fortunes of war.”
I was lodged with my mother, close to the town of Sens.
Henry’s brother, the Duke of Bedford, had joined him. Each day I wondered whether he would come.
I did not enjoy my mother’s company, although she treated me with some respect nowadays. The Queen of England was of more importance to her than the Princess of France had been. I was gratified when I remembered that I was of higher rank than she was; she the wife of the deposed monarch, while I was that of the conqueror.
She was very fat now. She would lie about, nibbling her sweetmeats, and would not be parted from her dogs. I wondered how many lovers there were nowadays. Was she still as eager for them? One thing she had not lost was her love of intrigue.
It seemed a long time before Sens surrendered, but it was only six days. Then Henry came to me. I thought he would be exhausted, but quite the contrary; he was elated.
There was a passionate reunion, but a short one, and I sensed that most of the time his main preoccupation was with his captains. He told me his next objective would be Montereau, which was in the hands of the Armagnacs.
He said: “Young Burgundy is eager for the fight. There he is in his elaborate mourning, vowing vengeance on his father’s murderers. I’ll swear he cares more for his father in death than he ever did in life. He cannot wait to get to Montereau. Now I have a plan. I want you to be near…but not too near. I want to be able to come and see you when there is a chance. So I am moving you to Bray-sur-Seine…you and your household…with your mother, of course.”
“I hope that you can come often,” I said.
“I hope so, too. Now prepare for the move. But first there will be our triumphant entry into Sens.”
“Shall I be there?”
“But of course. Are you not the Queen of England?”
So I prepared myself for the entry into the city. I often thought of it afterward and how incongruous it was that I, who belonged to the defeated House of Valois, should enter into the fallen city in the role of conqueror. But such was Henry’s personality that I felt I belonged with him and not with my family.
The Archbishop of Sens, who had performed the ceremony at our wedding, led us into the city. He was overjoyed because, after having been expelled by the Armagnacs, he was now reinstated by Henry.
We entered the great cathedral to the sound of a glorious anthem, and Henry turned to the Archbishop and said: “Recently you gave me my wife. Now, my lord Archbishop, I restore yours to you this day.” Which was a way of telling him that the archbishopric was given back to him.
What a happy day that was! But it was disappointing that war must go on. Henry was busy preparing, and when a battle was imminent I could see that he had no thought for anything else; and as soon as one town had fallen to him, he was preparing to take the next.
We moved to Bray-sur-Seine and settled in to await the fall of Montereau. My father, who had recovered a little, joined us there.