Page 93 of The Knight’s Reward

And although he’d vowed to act based on his success or failure in the training yard, he’d decided he could not allow such an important decision to rest on a silently spoken vow during training. Instead, he’d concluded he must consider what his brothers would do in his situation. What Adam would do. The answer, he and Aylmer had agreed, was to speak with the woman who’d been named in the king’s damnable request, Lady Alina. In doing so, he hoped he might free himself without causing an uproar.

Except Kathryn was gone.

On the eve before she knew he would be forced to answer the king.

Which meant . . .

Which meant she had made the decision for him. They would look for her, but Neill had little hope she would be found.

Without Kathryn, there was only one answer he could give the king.

He would have to marry Lady Alina.

* * *

Eleanor of Castile.

Daughter of Ferdinand III, king of Castile, and Joan, the Countess of Ponthieu, whom Kathryn had met on two separate occasions while Edward was in Acre.

Some said, secretly of course, the queen had nearly as much power as her husband.

The queen had received her earlier, briefly, before a young page burst into the chamber begging the queen to attend her husband, who’d requested her presence. Before Kathryn could say a word, Eleanor had been escorted away. She’d never had a chance to ask the question she’d come to ask.

Kathryn fretted that she’d not have another opportunity to speak with her despite Rosalind’s assurances otherwise. At least the queen had appeared pleased to see her. Whatever reservations her father had felt about Kathryn returning to court, she did not believe they extended to this woman who had always been so kind to her.

“I’ve word from Your Grace,” Rosalind had finally said some time later. “She will receive you in the morn. The king, it seems, has taken ill.”

She left the rest unsaid. While their marriage had, of course, been arranged, everyone at court knew it was nonetheless a love match. If Edward was sick, his queen would remain by his side, of that she had no doubt.

When Rosalind had Kathryn escorted to a private bedchamber, Kathryn began to panic. Neill would return to the inn soon, and even though she’d left a cryptic message for him, he would no doubt worry. She could ask Rosalind to have a message brought to the inn, but Kathryn didn’t know what to say.

Should she tell Neill she was here, at court? Her worry, of course, had been that he would prevent her from coming. But now that she was already here, could she tell him so? Surely he could not force her to leave before she spoke with the queen?

In the end, she decided to say nothing other than to assure him, once again, that she was safe and not to worry. After giving Rosalind the parchment, she’d returned to the bedchamber, one of a few reserved for the queen’s attendants. It was smaller than the one she’d lived in at the castle, yet no less opulent. The bed covering gleamed in the candlelight, the gold thread a testament to the wealth that the English monarch enjoyed.

A lone window with a seat below looked down on a garden, one of many. More importantly, a wooden tub filled with hot water sat in the center of the room. Silently thanking Rosalind both for the bath and for the gown, which lay on her bed, Kathryn cleaned herself. She was in the bath when the door flew open, startling her.

“Pardon, my lady,” a young chambermaid said as she scurried into the room. “Mistress Rosalind bid me assist you to supper.”

Feeling very much like the queen herself, Kathryn dressed in the deep purple velvet gown, smiling at Rosalind’s accurate assessment of her measurements. If not for her worry about Neill and her audience with the queen, Kathryn could almost feel as if she’d returned home. This was, at least, as close to a home as she’d ever had.

Except for Kenshire.

Pushing the thought aside, Kathryn allowed the maid to style her hair and then followed her down to the hall where supper was already underway. More than one hundred men and women were crowded inside, and yet this was only one of three great halls within the Tower serving a meal now. The queen’s ladies, the king’s officers, and their children could be found here, while the other retainers, including the royal men-at-arms, would dine separately. The king and queen often ate privately, in their own chamber, but occasionally graced one of the three halls with their presence.

Though not this eve.

The dais remained empty as Kathryn made her way to the table where Rosalind sat with the other ladies-in-waiting. Some were new, while others Kathryn knew well.

“Good eve,” she said as she came close.

“Lady Kathryn,” said Lysa, a tall blonde-haired daughter of an earl whom Kathryn had always found most endearing. Sweet and conversable, Lysa was the oldest of Eleanor’s ladies. Widowed young, Lysa claimed she had no need of another husband again, and true to her word, she remained unwed.

“I’m so pleased you can join us.”

She sat next to Lysa, aware the others watched them carefully.

“’Tis nice to be back.” She arranged her gown under her, her back straight, chin held high. Kathryn was being judged, and she knew it well.