A Rose for the Crown (61 page)

Once she was in the kitchen, Molly fussed around her, and Katherine
cried to be let out of her restraining device. Wat had carved a hole in the end of a plank, through which he had slotted an iron rod, the ends of which were attached to the ceiling and the floor. Katherine straddled the plank in a harness. Her legs could reach the ground, and she was able to toddle around the central rod, strengthening her legs and staying out of Janet’s and Molly’s way. It kept her happy for hours, though it made Kate dizzy just to watch her. Kate stood for a moment, supporting her aching back with one hand, and then waddled over to release Katherine. The child flung her arms around her mother’s neck as Kate bent down to greet her, but she was not picked up.

“Nay, Katherine. You are too heavy for your mother just now. But come and sit on my lap, sweeting.” She laughed at her daughter, who was looking mutinous. “Tell me what words you have learned today.”

“Boy!” crowed Katherine, perching herself precariously on her mother’s knees. “Boy, boy, boy, boy!” she repeated, liking the sound.

“Oh, dear. And you so young.”

“Ma-ma,” Katherine said almost poking Kate in the eye. “Moy.” She indicated Molly.

“And who is that?” Kate pointed at Janet.

“Cook!” cried Katherine proudly. The women laughed.

“Certes, she is our cook. But she has a name. Can you say Ja-net.” Kate pronounced it slowly. “Now you try, sweeting.”

“’Nit!”

Molly guffawed. “’Nit. ’Tis a fine name, bain’t it, mistress.” She winked at Kate. Janet was not sure how to take this. She was a simple woman, not accustomed to being teased. Kate took pity on her.

“I think Janet is much nicer, Molly. Now, Katherine, try again . . . Ahhh!” The cry left her lips suddenly and frightened Katherine onto the floor. Kate clutched her stomach, her face tense. “I think the name game must wait, my dearest child. Molly, prepare my chamber. Is the fire still alive? ’Tis time for this baby to enter the world.” Kate ordered her servants calmly. “Janet, go and tell Wat to fetch the midwife.” Janet knocked over her stool in her hurry to obey, and Kate smiled. “Do not be alarmed, woman. I have done this before.”

She replaced the squirming Katherine in her harness. “I am sorry, sweetheart. I will stay with you until Janet returns, but then Mother
needs to go upstairs to bed. And before you know it, you will have a baby brother . . . or a sister.” She had been so sure since its conception that this child would be a boy, but now she wondered.

“Brudder,” repeated Katherine, much to her mother’s delight. “Baby!”

“Aye, child. Baby brother.”

Later the midwife arrived in time to deliver Kate of a large, solemn boy. He gave a lusty cry at the outset but then preferred to take in his surroundings. Kate was astonished at the difference in her two children. Thick dark hair, fine white skin, gray eyes and a prominent chin proclaimed him for all the world the son of Richard Plantagenet. How would she explain this to Philippa was all she could think as she gazed at her baby. It was as though a miniature Richard stared back at her. She laughed and kissed him.

“His name shall be John, in honor of my father,” Kate told the women.

“Mistress, you be so lucky,” the midwife said as she wiped her hands and looked proudly down at her handiwork. “Molly tells me this birthing was even easier than the first. You were made for mothering, ’tis sure.”

Kate smiled. “Aye, I think so. And for all he was so big.”

“’Tis true. Be your husband big like this?”

Kate gulped and was caught off guard. Molly came to her rescue. “John’s father be not tall but not short either,” she answered ambiguously. “He be just right for my mistress.”

The midwife accepted the explanation and asked to be dismissed. “There is nowt more for me to do here, mistress. Molly can help you now.”

“I knew not what to say to her, Molly,” Kate chuckled when the midwife left. “This child is the image of his father, and there is nothing of my husband about him. Oh, dear!”

“Pay it no mind just now, mistress. The babe has need of his mother’s milk, poor little mite.”

Molly’s eyes were full of envious tears as she watched Kate feed John for the first time. Her baby would have been two months old that very day.

*   *   *

A
WEEK OR SO
after the birth, Kate took a letter addressed to Richard up to Tendring Hall. She had been cooped up inside for too long, and despite the threatening clouds, she was determined to try her legs and breathe fresh air again. Tom Moleyns let her into the Hall, congratulating her and inquiring about the baby’s health. “’Tis a great pity his father will never know him, Dame Katherine.”

Kate was so taken aback that she almost gave herself away by asking, “Why, what has happened to Richard?” but checked herself in time.

“Aye, Tom, although Master Haute did not care too much about being a father.” She was truthful but tried to sound sad. Before Tom could answer, they were at the office door, and Tom showed her in.

“Thank you, Tom. I shall not need you for a time,” Jack told the young man.

Several gentlemen of the household were gathered in the room, but when they saw Kate, they bowed to Jack and left.

Jack’s face was all smiles. “Why, Kate! ’Tis good to see you looking so hale after your birthing ordeal. Margaret tells me you were delivered of a fine boy. I am well pleased, my dear, and I am sure young Dickon will be, too. Is that a letter for him I see?”

He gave her a bear hug and a wet kiss on the mouth. His mustache tickled her, and she laughed. “It is, Sir John—I mean, my lord. Will you see Richard receives it, if you please?”

Jack took the letter, went back to the table and poured them both a cup of wine. “’Tis time you dispensed with ‘my lord,’ Kate. Those near to me call me Jack. Now, sit, sit! I have some news that should please you, although it will not bring Richard any closer to Suffolk, I fear.” Jack waved her to the bench on the other side of the table, and she arranged herself upon it. “The very day your baby was born, Kate, the king fought a battle against the rebels in Lincolnshire and routed them. No, no, Richard was not there, I promise you, he was safe in Wales. It became clear after the battle that ’twas again those traitors Warwick and Clarence who had incited the rebels. Edward is now moving north to quell any others who might be ready to join them, and he has commanded me to array more than a thousand men and put to sea with my fleet. He fears Warwick will flee the country.”

“Good riddance!” Kate’s vehemence caused Jack to raise an eyebrow.

“Does Gloucester hate the earl that much?”

Kate looked startled. “Nay, my lord . . . Jack. Richard has been caught between his guardian and Edward this twelvemonth. He owes much to the earl, as you know, and has been faithful to him always. But now he owes his brother his fealty, and it grieves him to turn his back on the earl. ’Tis my opinion only that the earl has caused this land much blood for his own greedy gain. I spoke rashly. I beg your pardon. I am but a simple woman, who knows little of politics.”

Jack held up his hand in protest. “Richard of Gloucester is not a man to form an attachment to a simpering miss, beauty or no. I would not be telling you this if I did not know you understand its import.”

Kate was flattered. Jack’s opinion meant almost as much to her as Richard’s. Although Kate’s children, her daily routine and the management of the house were her principal concerns, she was passionate about Richard the man, not Richard the prince, and she took pride in learning all she could of the world outside Tendring.

“When must you leave, Jack? Margaret will sorely miss you. And I shall, too.”

“With you to keep Margaret company, I doubt either of you will give me a thought or a prayer.” He downed his wine and smiled at her. “Now I must return to my work. I have many letters to dispatch, including this one to Richard. I wonder where the devil Bliant is?”

K
ATE AND
M
ARGARET
spent many hours together replenishing the large herb garden at Tendring in the early summer months. Cat and Katherine amused themselves under Edith’s watchful eye, while Molly cradled John on her lap. Colors fascinated Katherine, and several plants were already flowering, affording her tempting targets. Cat was a year older, but she followed Katherine around like a shadow as the younger child grew sturdier on her legs.

“She reminds me of Anne Haute,” Kate remarked to Margaret one day in June as they sat down to rest under an apple tree and watched the two children. “Obedient, gentle and intelligent. My Katherine might take heed of those qualities.”

Margaret was flattered by the description of Cat. “Pshaw, Kate. Your daughter will settle down, just see if she doesn’t.”

Kate did not voice the opinion that she would rather have willful, curious Katherine than a hundred obedient Cats. “Aye, I expect she will,” she said instead. “No, Katherine. We do not eat stones.”

Katherine looked at the stone and then at her mother and promptly stuck it in her mouth. Kate jumped up and ran to her daughter. “Naughty girl!” she admonished her. Katherine spat out the stone quickly. “’Tis wise to obey your mother, Katherine, or you will get a hiding, you know that.”

It would not be the first time, Margaret supposed, watching the scene with a smile. She turned to where Cat was patiently picking daisies around Edith’s skirts and nodded smugly. She had admitted to Kate this child was her favorite. She had not loved her previous husbands and had considered bringing Lettice and William into the world a duty more than an act of love, although she was fond of the pair. With Jack it was different. She adored his generous spirit, quiet ambition and the fact that he was not above showing her affection or lauding her intellectual capability. An unusual man of his time, Jack Howard, she told Kate. The child they shared was a special gift of their love. As if her thoughts had spirited him there, Jack’s voice carried over the wall.

“Margaret! Are you there, wife?”

“Jack, you are home!” Margaret scrambled to her feet, untucked her overskirt from her belt and put on her straw hat.

“Stay there, I will come to you,” he answered.

The iron door swung open and Jack strode in, sweating in his kersey cote. Kate had yet to see Jack in a fashionable short jacket and multicolored hose, and Margaret told her she never would. Her husband thought he was too old to expose the length of his bandy legs to the world and besides, he disapproved of men showing off their private parts in mixed company. Instead he favored the shorter houppeland that revealed only his muscled calves. Although he was not tall, he was burly. With his charm, distinctive mustache and booming voice, he was unable to slip in anywhere unnoticed. Margaret ran to him, and he picked her up and swung her around in a circle. “Really, Jack! Put me down. I am no child,” she protested, but she was laughing.

“No, you are my heart’s delight and I am right glad to see you again, my dearest wife.” Jack set her down, and with no modesty at all kissed her full on the lips, running his hands up and down her back. They were interrupted by little Cat, who, upon spotting her father, ran full tilt along the path and threw her arms around his knees.

“God’s bones, what’s this! Why, Cat, you greet your father well, my poppet!” Letting Margaret go, he picked up his daughter and set her on his shoulder. She clutched onto his head for dear life, not relishing her high perch at all.

“Good day to you, Kate,” he greeted Kate cheerily. “How pleasant when the nursery can move out of doors.”

“God’s welcome my lord. ’Tis good to see you home again. Aye, ’tis pleasant indeed.”

Kate dropped a curtsy then went forward for Jack’s customary kiss. Katherine toddled behind her mother.

“The fresh air sends Katherine to bed with little complaint, in truth. But I do not wish to intrude. Would you prefer that I leave, sir?” she asked, picking up her daughter.

“Nay, Kate, what I have to tell Margaret will be of interest to you, too. Come, ladies, and walk with me. Edith, watch the two maids for a few minutes, if you will,” he said, setting Cat down.

Kate relinquished her daughter, and Edith took the hand of both girls and walked with them to the other side of the garden. Kate confirmed that John was still asleep in Molly’s lap and turned back to the Howards.

“Warwick and Clarence gave us a merry race in the Channel,” Jack began, closing the door of the garden behind them and walking them into the apple orchard. “We chased them from Devon, but our ships were scattered. By the time we reached Calais, where we were certain they had fled, they were gone. By some miracle, they were refused entry to Calais.”

“But I thought Warwick was captain of the garrison there, Jack,” Margaret said. “Why would he be refused?”

“The garrison was for Edward, my dear, and what is more, Duke Charles of Burgundy was willing to support them against Warwick, for the Warwick had captured some of Burgundy’s ships and so did not endear himself to the duke. Warwick had no choice. He moved along the
coast of Normandy—with his wife and daughters and Clarence. ’Tis said the Duchess of Clarence was in childbirth on board at Calais and lost the child.”