“Could we?”
“We shall be the King and the Queen. They do not have to ask if they may.”
For the first time in his life he wanted to be king. He was amazed. Katharine had done that for him.
As the evening wore on and the feasting was over it was time for dancing. The minstrels were there and Don Pedro de Ayala whispered to Katharine that she should show the King some of their Spanish dances.
Katharine loved to dance and summoning some of her ladies she commanded them to dance with her. The King watched her. She was strong and healthy enough. He had nothing of which to complain and he was glad he had shown the Spaniards that he would have none of their Moorish customs in England.
He was anxious though, for as the Infanta had danced, this meant that the Prince would have to do the same. Not together. That would not be discreet until they were married. It was a good thing. The little Spaniard was too agile for Arthur.
He beckoned to Lady Guildford, one of the ladies of the royal nurseries, a motherly woman who had always shown concern for the children.
“Take the Prince in the dance,” he said. He looked at her steadily. “Do not keep him at it too long. Something short and not too lively . . .”
She understood.
So she and Arthur showed the Spanish Princess an English dance. The Prince was grateful and would have done well if he were not so short of breath.
He was greatly relieved to sit down and tried not to show how fatigued he was.
But Katharine noticed. It made her feel very tender toward him.
Prince Henry was delighted. Although he resented the fact that this was not his wedding, he was to play a big part in it. His father had chosen him to lead the Spanish Infanta first into the city and later to the altar.
He was smiling happily as his attendants gathered round him as he was dressed. He looked complacently down at his well-shaped legs in their close-fitting hose. His shirt and pourpoint were of the finest but what pleased him most was the coat—lined with ermine—and the gold chain which was placed about his neck. He would be recognized at once as a Prince.
So royally clad he mounted his horse, which was as grand as he was. Even his gold stirrups were decorated with jewels. He looked magnificent—older than his ten years for he was tall and broad and as he still possessed a very youthful-looking face he was certain to attract the admiration of the crowd. His usually pink cheeks were a shade deeper, and as the sun shone on the thick reddish curls which framed his face he was indeed a handsome sight.
His father himself had told him of what was expected of him. He had warned him that he must please the people. He had meant of course that he must not push himself too much to the fore, the people would not be so much interested in him as in the bride and bridegroom. He must remember to conduct himself with decorum as a prince and knight must always do.
Henry implied that he was well aware of this and added that his father would have no need to be ashamed of him.
And now here he was seated on his horse, waiting for the approach of the Spanish Princess. He had crossed London Bridge and was in St. George’s Field close to Lambeth Palace from which Katharine would emerge.
He was impatient to see her. He had heard that she was handsome and not ill-formed as had been feared because at first she was reluctant to show her face. Lucky Arthur to marry the daughter of Spain! Her mother was very rich and powerful and Katharine had brought many treasures with her from Spain.
Henry’s eyes sparkled at the thought of riches. Not that he would want to hoard them as it was rumored his father did. If he had the money he would spend it on grand occasions, jousting, feasting, fine clothes and riding among the people, giving them amusements, tournaments, baiting of animals and royal pageantry, so pleasing the people.
Alas, that fate had seen fit to make him a second son.
Now he could hear the music coming from Lambeth Palace—music which had a foreign flavor—Spanish, of course. The trumpets thrilled him; he was fond of music, which gave great satisfaction to those who tutored him in that subject. So he listened with pleasure, leaning forward a little in his saddle, eager to catch a first glimpse of her.
And there she was—in the midst of the knights and squires and Spanish gentlemen—a girl on a brilliantly caparisoned mule, which glittered and shone.
Her hair flowed about her shoulders—thick and auburn colored; he could not see her face clearly for she wore a hat which reminded him of the ones Cardinals wore.
His heart beat fast as she approached and he spurred his horse forward. They were face-to-face. He swept off his hat and bowed and said the words he had prepared.
She replied rather stumblingly and her smile told him at once that she liked him.
He was enchanted. He thought he had never seen anyone as beautiful as the Spanish Princess.
He placed himself on her right and prepared to escort her into the city.
How proud he was to be her escort, how conscious of the side-long glances she gave him! He guessed she was admiring him as he was admiring her.
“You will see how the city is determined to welcome you,” he said.
She lifted her shoulders and shook her head. She did not understand. He was angry with his tutors for not teaching him Spanish. Could she understand Latin? She could.
“It will be so helpful to us,” he said, and smiled.
He was able to tell her that he thought her beautiful and that her hat amused him. “It is like those worn by cardinals,” he said.
She smiled with him.
She was not very old really. She seemed almost his own age.
“I will be your friend,” he said. “You have nothing to fear.”
She murmured: “Thank you.”
He felt elated. This he thought is the happiest moment of my life: and then he remembered that she was to be Arthur’s bride and that Arthur would have not only herself but the crown. His happiness was immediately clouded; he forced his mouth to smile; the irrepressible Skelton had said that when he was angry his mouth betrayed him. “That mouth will send people to the block when . . . I mean if you are ever king.”
So he smiled and he wondered why Skelton often talked as though he would be the King one day. If Arthur died . . . but then Arthur was going to be married and married people had sons . . . If Arthur had a son that would be the end of his hopes. And this beautiful girl would help him to get one. She was really an enemy. But he could not think of her as such.
So he smiled at the people and he was sure they had almost as much interest in him as they had in the Spanish Princess. There were wonderful pageants in the streets. Virgins and saints greeted them but what Henry liked best was the castle, which had been set up near the Falcon Inn; it was so lifelike; it was a most exhilarating experience riding down Cornhill. The conduits in Chepeside were running with free wine to which the people helped themselves most liberally. Everywhere there were tributes to Arthur and his bride.
So Henry took her to the Bishop’s Palace, close to the Cathedral, where she was to rest a few days before the marriage ceremony.
Then again it was Henry’s turn to take her from the Bishop’s Palace to St. Paul’s.
He was delighted by her and could not take his eyes from her.
There was something so strange and exotic about her that made her different from any woman he had ever known. He thought of her spending her childhood in strange Moorish palaces; he thought of all the rich articles she had brought with her to England. He knew that they made his father’s eyes gleam with pleasure and rub his hands together in an anticipation of touching them. The daughter of the Sovereigns of Spain! How truly exciting. He had heard that the wagons which had come with her were full of priceless treasure—carpets of exquisite design; beds, intricately carved; cloths of the finest texture to say nothing of jewels and plate. And all this for Arthur!