by Anne Herries
‘I thought you married me because you were commanded to do so,’ Catherine confessed. ‘I wished it had not happened that way, even though I was happy to be your wife. But then I decided that I would make you fall in love with me somehow.’
‘I was yours from the first,’ he told her, and touched her cheek softly. ‘Go to bed now, my love. I shall come to say goodnight, even if you sleep, and I shall be nearby all night. However, there are men patrolling the courtyards. No one can enter this house tonight.’
‘God did not bring us together to have us part so soon,’ Catherine said. ‘Even if that evil man is loitering nearby, we shall be safe. It was my destiny to marry you, Andrew. If love can keep us safe, we shall live in peace until we are both old and our grandchildren play at out feet.’
Catherine kissed him on the lips, then turned and went upstairs to her bedchamber. She was singing a folk song to herself, her heart bursting with happiness—after Andrew’s confession nothing could mar her joy. He loved her as she had hoped he must for so long. He loved her as she loved him, with all her heart and soul. It was a perfect match. Surely it had been destined that they should meet and fall in love? So much had been against it at the start, but they had come through it all—and they would come through whatever lay ahead, because they loved each other.
Catherine was smiling as she opened her bedroom door and entered, but the smile drained from her face as she saw that Tilda was lying on the floor; she was bleeding from a blow to the back of her head. Catherine gave a little cry and ran to her faithful serving woman, dropping to her knees beside her.
‘Tilda,’ she said, lifting the woman’s head to examine the wound. ‘Dearest Tilda, do not be dead, I pray you.’
‘My lady…’ Tilda’s eyelids flickered as she opened her eyes and a little moan escaped her. ‘I do not know what happened. I came in to turn back the bedcovers and make sure that the fire was safe—and then something struck me on the head.’ She struggled to sit up and gave another moan. ‘I sensed someone was there, but I did not turn quickly enough to see who it was.’
‘What made you think someone was there?’ Catherine asked. ‘No, do not try to get up just yet, Tilda. I shall bring water and tend your wound and then I shall send for Sarah. She will help you to your room and bring you something to help with the pain.’
‘But, my lady…’ Tilda hesitated, then, ‘Why was someone here? It was not me they meant to harm but you, for had I not been late coming to turn the covers I should not have been here.’
‘Wait there,’ Catherine commanded. She pulled on the bell-rope to summon a servant, and then fetched water from the ewer, kneeling down to bathe the back of Tilda’s head.
It was a nasty wound as the skin had been broken. Tilda was lucky that it had not been delivered with sufficient force to kill her, but she would have a terrible headache. Catherine bathed her, washing away the blood. She was just getting up from her ministrations when Sarah entered the room.
‘My lady!’ Sarah cried in distress. ‘What has happened here?’
‘Tilda was struck on the back of the head as she came to turn back the covers—which means that someone is able to enter my chamber despite—’ Catherine broke off as her eye was drawn to a bed curtain, which was moving slightly, as if blown by a breeze. The next moment, she saw that one of the wall tapestries was also moving. She went to it and held it back, revealing a crack in the wall. Clearly there was a secret opening, which the intruder had failed to close in his hurry to escape. ‘Send for the marquis. My husband must see this!’
Catherine had hardly uttered the words before Andrew walked in. He took in the situation and frowned, walking to join Catherine at the wall opening.
‘Somehow an intruder came in through this secret way and hit Tilda.’ Catherine looked at the two serving women. ‘Sarah, take Tilda to her chamber and see that she has something to help her rest.’
‘Afterwards come back here, for we must move your mistress’s things,’ Andrew said as the two women went out.
‘Yes, my lord,’ Sarah replied.
‘I do not wish to move, Andrew,’ Catherine said. ‘Is there no way we can make this safe? Perhaps a heavy chest could be moved in front so that it cannot be opened from the other side?’
‘It will be made safe before this night is out,’ Andrew said grimly. ‘Our enemy has made a mistake, Catherine. I suspected there might be another way in, but I wasn’t sure. I shall take one of my men and we will discover where the other entrance is—but in the meantime, you are not safe here, Catherine. It was possible that the log fell and the strap on your saddle could have frayed, but your serving woman did not hit herself.’
‘Very well—where would you have me sleep?’
‘In my bed,’ Andrew told her. ‘I shall lock the door between the two chambers and keep the key about me. No one will be able to enter from this room until I return.’
‘Yes, perhaps that is for the best,’ Catherine said. ‘Whoever is doing this is ruthless, Andrew. Poor Tilda might have died.’
‘And so might you had you not stayed to talk a few moments longer,’ he said grimly. ‘We must get to the bottom of this mystery. I intend to make sure that this secret entrance is never used again.’ He reached out to touch her cheek with his fingers. ‘Go to my chamber now. You will be safe enough until I return for you may lock the door to the hall.’
‘Please take care,’ Catherine said. ‘I could not bear it if you were killed, Andrew.’
His features tightened. ‘Whoever planned this campaign against you is a coward of the worst kind, Catherine. If he hates me, he should have tried to kill me rather than harm you. I shall not rest until he is brought to justice.’
Catherine nodded, because she understood how he felt. This intrusion into their home, into Catherine’s bedchamber, where they lay together, was intolerable. They could neither of them feel easy until the culprit was caught and punished.
Chapter Twelve
C atherine locked the door after Sarah left her. She sat propped up against some pillows, sipping the tisane slowly, feeling that she would not be able to sleep until her husband returned. However, after some hours had passed she found her eyelids growing heavy and slipped into an uneasy sleep in which her dreams were troubled.
It was morning when Catherine woke. She stretched and yawned, opening her eyes to strange surroundings. For a few seconds she could not think why she was in Andrew’s bed, and then it all came flooding back. Jumping out of bed, she went to the door of the dressing chamber and found it unlocked. She went through to her own chamber, where she discovered Tilda tidying the bed.
‘Tilda, you should be resting,’ Catherine said. ‘Why are you here? Did my husband permit you to come?’
‘Sarah told me that the secret entrance has been blocked from inside,’ Tilda replied. ‘The marquis has had iron bars nailed across it from inside, and the mechanism is broken so that it cannot be opened. He did not wake you because you were sleeping, my lady.’
‘Yes, I did fall asleep in the early hours,’ Catherine said. ‘Do you know where my husband is this morning, Tilda?’
‘I have not seen him,’ Tilda replied. ‘Would you like me to help you dress, my lady?’
‘Thank you, Tilda. I shall wash and then I would like my gown of green cloth with the gold braiding—but are you sure you feel well enough? I could ask one of the other servants to help me for a day or two if you wish to rest.’
‘Oh, no, my lady, that would not be right,’ Tilda said. ‘They would not know how you like your hair dressed—and they might not care for your things as I do.’
‘Very well, but I do not like you to work when you are unwell,’ Catherine said. ‘You may help me to dress, but then you must rest for a while.’
‘Yes, my lady, if you wish it,’ Tilda said. She gave a little shiver and glanced round the chamber. ‘I am glad you were not here alone when that terrible man got in here, mistress. He hit me a glancing blow, but he might have killed you.’
‘Yes, he might, but I am sorry you were hurt.’ Catherine frowned. ‘Did you not tell me that you felt someone was here, but did not turn soon enough?’
‘I remember thinking something, but I cannot quite remember what,’ Tilda told her. ‘It is there at the back of my mind. It will come back to me soon.’
‘Yes, perhaps,’ Catherine said. ‘Do not trouble yourself, Tilda, for I dare say it does not matter so very much. At least we can rest easy in our beds, for it is unlikely that there was more than one secret way into the house. Sarah thought this chamber might be haunted, for she had heard strange noises here at times, but it is obvious now that someone knew about the secret way, and has used it before this.’
‘I pray there are no more such entrances,’ Tilda said with a shiver. ‘I do not like to think of that evil man at liberty to come and go as he pleases.’
‘No…’ Catherine was silent, thoughtful. Andrew believed he knew who had made at least two attempts on her life, but she wasn’t quite sure. Something at the back of her mind was bothering her, though she could not have said what it was, but she knew she had sensed it when she came into her chamber the previous night. ‘No, it is not a pleasant thought, but I am sure that my husband will have increased the guards just to be certain.’
After she had changed into her gown, Catherine went downstairs. She wanted to visit the stillroom, because she needed to check what preserves they had, so she could make some preparations herself. Her mother had always made various sauces to accompany the festive food, and she was not sure if they had all the special ingredients required.
It was an hour or so later, when Catherine was just preparing to visit the kitchens, that Sarah came to find her. There was a flush in her cheeks and she was looking excited as she informed Catherine that she had a visitor.
‘Who is it, Sarah?’ Catherine asked, looking down at her gown. ‘I am not dressed for visitors.’
‘I think you will see this one,’ Sarah said. ‘He says he is your brother, and he looks much like you, my lady.’
‘Harry?’ Catherine’s face lit up with pleasure. ‘My brother is here? I did not expect him for some weeks. Where is he?’
‘In the parlour at the back of the house, my lady. I asked him to wait, though he wanted to come and look for you.’
‘I shall go to him at once,’ Catherine said. Leaving the stillroom, she ran through the house, arriving at the parlour she liked for private use a little breathless. Her brother was standing by the window, looking out at the courtyard garden. ‘Harry! My dearest brother! I was not expecting you so soon.’
‘Catherine…’ He turned to her, his eyes bright with affection. ‘I came to bring you news that must please you, Cat. You may rest easier in your mind—the Earl of Ronchester has been arrested. I was able to send him back to London in chains. I came here to tell you, but I cannot stay more than a few hours as the King is waiting for important news I carry.’
‘You cannot spend Christ’s Mass with us?’ Catherine asked.
‘Unfortunately not,’ Harry told her. ‘But perhaps in the New Year I may return to spend a little time with you…but you frown, Catherine. I thought you would be pleased with the news?’
‘Yes, I am pleased,’ she replied. ‘Tell me, where did you capture Ronchester—and when?’
‘He was caught some thirty leagues from here two days ago,’ her twin replied. His gaze narrowed as he saw that she was bothered by his news. ‘Why does that distress you?’
‘Andrew thought it was Ronchester who tried to—’ She shook her head as her husband walked in. ‘Harry brings us news, Andrew—the Earl of Ronchester was captured two days ago some thirty leagues from here.’
‘Ronchester was captured?’ Andrew stared at the younger man, his gaze narrowed and intent. ‘You are certain of this?’
‘It was my men who captured him,’ Harry replied, looking from one to the other. ‘Pray tell me what is going on? I know that something is wrong.’
‘Someone has made attempts on Catherine’s life, and her serving woman was knocked on the head in her chamber last night,’ Andrew said, his expression grim. ‘I have made certain it cannot happen again, for the secret way in is blocked and will never be used again, but this changes things. I was sure it was Ronchester who had made these attacks, but if he was far from here and is on his way to the Tower…’
‘What attacks? Tell me at once!’ Harry demanded.
Andrew explained in a few words, causing Harry to curse loudly. ‘What is going on here? I thought my sister would be safe in your care, Gifford. If you cannot protect her properly…’
‘Hush, my dearest brother,’ Catherine said. ‘You must not blame Andrew. At first we could hardly believe that the fire was set deliberately—and then no one realised what was happening with my palfrey until the strap gave and I fell. Andrew has done all he can to protect me, but we believed it must be the Earl of Ronchester.’ She wrinkled her brow in thought. ‘If it was not him, I do not know who would wish me dead.’
‘It is more likely that Gifford has an enemy,’ Harry growled. He looked daggers at Andrew. ‘I shall hold you responsible if anything happens to her!’
‘Please do not quarrel with Andrew,’ Catherine begged. ‘He loves me and would protect me with his life. Now that we know Ronchester is in the King’s custody, we must think again. I promise I shall be very careful, Harry.’ She smiled at him. ‘Will you dine with us?’
‘Yes, I shall stay to dine,’ Harry said, looking at her anxiously. ‘Would to God I could stay longer, but I am compelled to continue on to London.’
‘You must not worry too much,’ Catherine said. ‘I shall have the meal brought forward. Stay here and talk to Andrew, and I shall return soon.’
Harry looked at the other man as she hurried away. ‘This is a confounded business, Gifford. Forgive me if I spoke hastily, but Cat means the world to me. If anything happened to her, I should feel that I had lost a part of myself.’
‘You are not the only one who loves Catherine,’ Andrew said. ‘I wish that you could stay, because I am concerned for her safety—the more so now that I know it was not Ronchester who attacked her…’ His gaze narrowed, intensified. ‘I can only think of one other who might harm her—though it seems impossible.’
‘Tell me what is in your mind,’ Harry demanded. ‘If it is someone here, I shall seek him out and challenge him to a duel.’
‘If it isn’t Ronchester, there is only one other it can be, and unfortunately you cannot challenge her to a duel of honour.’
‘You are saying it is a woman?’ Harry said. ‘Surely it cannot be?’
‘I am afraid it is the only person I can think of,’ Andrew said. ‘Unless your sister has an enemy I do not know of, I think I know who has been doing these things. I have had my suspicions, but I did not think her capable of such perfidy. I know she hath a temper and can be spiteful at times, but to do such things…’ He shook his head. ‘It pains me to tell you, but I fear this business is my fault.’
‘I wish that you could stay longer,’ Catherine said as she hugged her brother some hours later. ‘I thank you for the gift you brought me, but I would rather have your company, Harry.’
‘I shall return as soon as possible,’ Harry told her. ‘Take great care of yourself, Cat. You must do whatever Andrew tells you. He has your best interests at heart, and will protect you with his life.’
‘Yes, I know,’ Catherine said. ‘Take care on your journey home, Harry.’
‘I shall be safe enough now that Ronchester is in the Tower,’ Harry reassured her. ‘It was my intention to return to Melford for a brief visit if I could, but I have told Andrew that I shall return here as soon as the King releases me.’
‘You must do whatever suits you,’ Catherine told him with a smile. ‘I am sure I shall be well protected.’ She gave her brother another hug and stood back, watching as he rode away. When he had disappeared from view, she turned to go in, then spun round as she felt that some
one was watching her. However, she could see no one but a groom leading one of the horses through the courtyard. She shook her head, because it would be foolish to let herself become nervous for no reason. Her husband had people watching over her, and perhaps it was one of them that she felt somewhere near.
It was unpleasant to know that someone wished her dead. She had been able to accept it when she believed it was the Earl of Ronchester, but it was unsettling to think that she had an unknown enemy.
After her twin’s visit the days seemed to pass very quickly. Catherine spent some hours in her stillroom every day, preparing sweetmeats and special cordials for the feast she meant to serve her guests at Christ’s Mass. By the day before the eve of Christ’s Mass, everything was ready. The house had been decked with greenery and ribbons, and the silver was gleaming, in its place.
She decided that she would spend the day preparing some gifts she had gathered for her household. All the servants would be given the usual cloth, food and money, but Catherine had some small personal gifts for Sarah, Tilda and the other servants. She had prepared scented soaps and creams for the women, and the men had a gift of a barrel of ale they would share to enhance their own celebrations.
She had a beautiful fan of bone and silk for Lady Gifford, and for Andrew she had a sash that she had embroidered with the Malchester crest. Her personal gifts were wrapped in delicate packages of silk tied with ribbon, and Catherine carried them down to the small parlour at the back of the house, placing them on a table where a silver sweet dish had been filled with marchpane and walnut treats.
She had finished arranging the gifts to her satisfaction when the door opened behind her. Catherine thought it must be her mother-in-law, for she knew that Andrew was busy with his steward and one of the tenants. They were arranging a new lease, which would take some hours to draw up to everyone’s satisfaction.
