“He is not given to fancies.”
“Perhaps we all are at times.”
“I wish that I knew what it meant.”
“God’s ways are mysterious. People have strange fancies…all of us do at times. Let us pray that all will be well with the King and his son.”
I was ready to do that with fervor.
And after a while I ceased to worry. It had just been a fancy on Henry’s part. Such prophecies were meaningless. I had a strong and virile husband and a healthy baby.
I must rejoice.
The baptism of my son was carried out with the ceremony due to the heir to the throne. I said to Guillemote that it was difficult to imagine our little one with such a grand title.
Henry had chosen his godparents: his brother John, Duke of Bedford, and Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester, Henry’s father’s half-brother. They were both men who were held in high esteem. His godmother was Jacqueline of Bavaria, who was immensely delighted to be given this honor. She was sure that it meant Henry had her good at heart and in time might even help her to regain her lost provinces.
Little Henry, I am proud to say, behaved with impeccable decorum at his baptism and he was the object of much admiration.
The time was passing and I knew that change must come. The inevitable happened. It was a summons from Henry for me to join him in France.
At first I made wild plans for taking the baby with me. Then I thought of the unpredictable stretch of water between me and Henry. It would be May, I reminded myself; and that would be very different from February when I had crossed before. Then I remembered the rough going across country and I knew I was deluding myself. Of course the baby would have to stay in England.
The Council had decided these matters for me. I was a fool to have thought it possible. I should never have been allowed to take little Henry with me.
It was arranged that he should be left in the care of his uncle Humphrey, the Duke of Gloucester, while the King and I were in France, so I had to prepare myself to say farewell to my baby.
“Well,” said Joanna Troutbeck, “you won’t see the baby, but the King will make up for that.”
I wanted to say that nothing would make up for parting with my baby, but of course there would be some consolation in Henry’s company, though experience had taught me not to expect too much of that. There would be the usual battles, the partings, the reunions, and never knowing from one hour to the next when he would be gone.
Duke Humphrey came to see me and the child.
He was very charming and told me I need have no anxieties about my son. Everything could be safely left to him.
He did not appear to be the sort of man who would interest himself in nurseries. But he would not have to do so, of course—just make sure that the right people were about the child and did their work efficiently. I should insist on Guillemote’s staying with him.
Jacqueline was with me at this time. She showed an interest in her young godson, but I was never sure how deeply her feelings went. I imagined she gave more thought to her lost possessions than to her godmother’s vows.
She met Humphrey. After all, the boy was under his care and she was his godmother. It should make a common interest.
I could see that they were rather attracted to each other, and it was not long—as I had guessed would be the case—before Jacqueline was telling him of her wrongs.
He knew what had happened, of course, and why she was in England, but he listened with the utmost sympathy.
“My dear lady,” he soothed, “how you have suffered! That uncle of yours is indeed a wicked man. And your husband…he allowed it to happen!”
“My husband no more!” she cried. “We are divorced. The Pope has annulled our marriage.”
“The Pope has agreed to this?”
“The Spanish Benedict.”
“He whom some call the anti-Pope?”
“Anti-Pope or not, he has been a good friend to me.”
“Then I will say he is a good pope.”
They laughed together. I had never seen Jacqueline so merry before.
She talked to him about the importance of what she had lost. Hainault, Holland, Zealand and Friesland…all gone to the wicked uncle through treachery.
“But I do not despair,” she said. “One day some gallant and noble knight will come to my aid.”
Duke Humphrey was smiling at her.
“There can be no doubt of that,” he said. “Godspeed the day.”
At length he left, reluctantly, and I remarked to my ladies that he had talked more to Jacqueline than to me.
“He seemed taken with her,” said Agnes.
“In my opinion,” said Joanna Courcy, “he is taken with Hainault, Holland, Zealand and Friesland.”
We all laughed, and I set about getting on with my preparations to leave.
John, Duke of Bedford, was to escort me to France. I had said my farewells to my baby and left him in Guillemote’s careful hands. She had assured me that I had nothing to worry about. The Duke of Gloucester had given me his word that when the baby’s household was arranged Guillemote should remain with him.
The crossing was fairly calm, and on landing I was accompanied by Bedford and 20,000 men to Vincennes.
Henry was in the wood there with my parents, waiting to greet me.
What an emotional reunion that was! Henry embraced me with fervor. I had been a little worried as to what his reaction would be after I had disobeyed him regarding little Henry’s birthplace; but he did not seem to remember that in his joy at seeing me.
My father embraced me with tears on his cheeks. I was fearful that the deep emotion might bring on one of his periods of madness.
“My daughter…my Katherine …” he murmured. “I am so proud of you.”
My mother, plumper than ever, gloriously appareled, perfumed and sparkling, kissed me with an outward display of affection.
“My dear, dear daughter,” she cried. “How wonderful for us to be together again. It has been so long. And now there is the little one. How I wish I could see him! Later on he must come here to be with me.”
Never, I thought; but I smiled pleasantly.
I rode side by side with Henry to our lodging, and at last we were alone.
I thought he looked a little strained, and when the first passionate reunion was over I asked tentatively about his health.
“I’m well enough, Kate,” he said. “A soldier’s life is not an easy one. We go from place to place, and Meaux was an obstinate city. I did not think they could hold out so long.”
“I was hoping this fighting would be over.”
“I doubt we shall ever be completely at peace here. These people…they have too much resistance.”
“They resent the conqueror. That is natural.”
“I know. I’d have a poor opinion of them if they were otherwise. But it makes the going hard.”
“They will go on resisting forever,” I said.
He nodded grimly. “That may be so, but where they rise against me, they will be put down. Never fear. Now…tell me of our son.”
“He is wonderful and beginning to know us. Everyone dotes on him.”
“And strong…and healthy?”
“He is the son of his father!”
It was the wrong thing to have said, I knew, because I saw a shadow pass across his face. Is he as well as he pretends to be? I wondered.
I knew that sooner or later he would broach the subject of Henry’s birthplace and I decided to mention it first.
“I am sorry,” I said, “that I did not get away from Windsor in time for the birth.”
“What kept you?”
“It was the weather,” I said quickly, suppressing the impulse to tell the truth and say, my own inclination.