Thank you to everyone who reviewed! They are so nice to read. Hopefully you all like this addition as well. I'm trying to build up to an "unmasking" of sorts.

Henry awoke the next morning feeling rejuvenated. He had the most wonderful, sensual, sweet dreams of Catherine and himself, a mixture of memories and fantasies. That woman he had met last night had been just what he needed. She was Catherine, or at least what Catherine used to be like before life got in the way.

He wondered who this woman was. Prior to last night he hadn't noticed any one woman that seemed to resemble Catherine in stature, then again he wasn't looking. Her height though should give her away, although maybe for the rest of her days at court she would wear heels. He couldn't quite remember her hair color, though it was definitely on the lighter shade, she'd had it wrapped so tightly and with a lot of pearls. Funny that, Catherine loved pearls.

Her dress was simple, that was the biggest deviation from Catherine, who always showed off her prestige with her wardrobe. The only characteristic he could recall was that the dress was red. Catherine though did always stun in red.

The woman was correct though, he did have it bad for Catherine. His thoughts kept circling back to Catherine. Perhaps the woman really didn't remind him of Catherine but rather he was just so obsessed he only saw the similarities.

But who was her husband too? Was he in constant meeting with a man who had no idea that his wife was wonderful? Did her husband know how much his wife cared for him? He had to. It was evident the woman was in love with him, and he didn't even know the woman.

Then again, was his love for Catherine that obvious? Was the whole court laughing behind his back at his misery? The mysterious woman picked up on it immediately. Or maybe both of them were more sensitive to love and the accompanying heartbreak when it didn't work out. He thought probably the latter.

On his way to the breakfast room Henry looked over every woman, not with seduction but with suspicion to whether or not she was the mysterious figure. He even found himself eyeing the Italian gentlemen, wondering which one could be such a fool to not appreciate her.

He wanted to figure out who she was just so he could see her. He'd built up this illusion of her being so similar to Catherine he had to find out. Plus he'd always loved a good intrigue. He combed his memory trying to remember the littlest of details about the woman. She wore rings but nothing that stuck out. She only wore one simple pearl necklace. The most ornate item she wore was her mask.

Rounding the corner and entering the breakfast room, Henry quickened his step. His favorites were being served this morning and after the action packed dreams he'd had last night he was quite hungry. But wait, nothing that he wanted was being presented before him. He'd wanted nothing but glorious spreads of food to show off France, but the bread and cheese being laid before him did not do that.

He beckoned a servant, "What is the meaning of this? Where is the feast?"

The servant looked as if he wanted the floor to eat him up, "Her majesty the Queen changed the menu yesterday afternoon, saying this was more in line with what the Venetians were used too."

As if one cue the devil herself walked into the room.

Henry was fuming at her, Catherine could feel it. She refused to look at him but knew, if she did she would see pure anger. Really though she was just playing the role of perfect hostess, it just so happened that Signor Bernardi, the leader of the Venetian party's favorite food was Henry's least favorite. Just a happy coincidence. She might also have learned this information and then after their fight yesterday changed the menu. Not seeing him at the party last night might have only made her surer of her decision. She had no regrets. Plus Signor Bernardi was overjoyed, making it impossible for Henry to cause a scene.

Looking elsewhere throughout the room Catherine started to try and figure out who was the mysterious gentleman. It would be hard to discern his identity because everything about him reminded her of Henry, she couldn't quite remember what was real and what she supposed he looked like. She did remember that while his Italian was slow to start he ended up being quite fluent. That meant he didn't use it often, so he couldn't have been in any of the previous meetings with any dignitaries. Who were some of the latecomer to the festivities? Or maybe they only spoke French in the meetings, she wouldn't know she was excluded.

Was there any one thing about him that stuck out? What about him made her think of Henry? She couldn't see his face so there wasn't an uncanny similar appearance. Plenty of men were around Henry's height. She couldn't tell what color his hair was since he'd worn a hat. She'd been drawn in by the red feather on the hat and by studying it she noticed he couldn't have had long hair. He danced with her the way Henry did, her hand fit into the gentleman's like hers did with Henry. But she couldn't go around placing her hand in every Frenchman's hand, as Queen she was allowed certain liberties but that might go too far.

How would she act if she found out his identity? She really wanted to continue talking to him. It was nice to have a confidant that understood what she was going through. Of course it's not like she could hope to pursue a friendship with him, she was a queen and she had kissed him! No perhaps it was for the best that his identity remain a mystery. Of course what were the chances of her figuring it out, she didn't have much to go off of.

Then again who was his wife? She must have been an awful woman, probably only self-concerned. How could she not see her husband was hopeless when it came to her? If only that woman knew what she had.

Looking over the women of the court that were present, Catherine could easily find women that she knew fit that description, however she knew that most of their husbands were equally retched beings. He must not be present currently that could be the only explanation. All of the men present that she recognized weren't capable of the honest emotions she and the gentleman had shared. No, all of these men would say and do anything just to stay in favor with Henry, shallow beings.

Thinking of Henry made her look in his direction. He had no problem sharing his emotions with her, currently he was exhibiting anger directed right at her. Good she thought. She wanted to get back at him for humiliating her in front of the court yesterday. Changing the menu overall wasn't a big deal, but she knew removing Henry's favorites would send a message.

Just wait until he found about the schedule changes she implemented.

Catherine clearly made her point in expressing her anger at Henry. She'd changed meals, schedules, and activities, all to make Henry look bad. Obviously she was still angry at their argument yesterday. She obviously wanted to show that she still had control. Funny, that woman mentioned doing the same exact behavior. Maybe that was a common way for wives to act out? At least now he was beginning to see the reason for her behavior.

Finding a block of free time after heavy discussions with his visiting guests, Henry stole off to the East garden for some alone time. After an afternoon of negotiations he wanted some quiet to reflect about his decisions. Noticing some courtiers milling about the garden as well Henry ducked into the maze. He had no plans to actually make his way through but just hide out long enough to let the men walk by.

Making his way to a dead end path that had a bench, Henry sat and allowed the sun to warm up his face. Sagging against bench he shut his eyes and allowed the tension to escape his body. The birds chirping in the tree behind him caused Henry to perk up on sounds. The courtiers he was hiding from were just over the hedge to his right, he couldn't quite make out what they were saying but he could tell they were gossiping. Hearing a noise directly in front of him, Henry slowly opened his eyes to see a squirrel running along the maze pathway before turning.

Smiling to himself he shut his eyes again and tuned into the noises around him. He could hear birds all over, normally the chirps vexed him, but right now they helped settle his tension. There was laughter at the fountain in front of him, though it was through a couple of hedges. Soon it seemed though like all the conversations around him had ended, everyone probably attending some activity Catherine had scheduled. All he knew was that he had no more meetings.

Starting to doze off he was awakened when directly behind him he heard some muttering. What was behind him? Another garden he thought trying to remember exactly where he was while waking up. That's right, it was a small garden that showcased some of their more expensive blooms. It was almost completely encased by hedges giving its occupant a lot of privacy. The small tree with the birds was in there. In the spring it would have the smallest blooms that would give off an overpowering floral smell. That garden was one of Catherine's favorite places.

Perking up to listen to some of the muttering, Henry could tell that the mutterer was a woman and that she was displeased with a servant. But wait she was muttering in Italian. Straining to hear her voice Henry turned to face the hedge. He couldn't see through the shrubbery at all, but he had to hear this woman's voice. Maybe she was the mysterious woman.

Heart pounding in his chest Henry listened with bated breath. The woman was speaking low, but the tone sounded very similar. The accent was there too, he knew, mostly due to his proximity with the Venetians over the past few days that his mystery woman was not originally from Venice. Her accent didn't quite match the rest, but he wasn't familiar enough to place a region.

What were the chances that the woman just on the other side of the hedge was the woman he danced with last evening, the very same woman who understood his pain.

Straining to hear every word Henry got closer, practically climbing up the hedge. The woman started again, only this time it wasn't about the servant it was about her husband! Henry almost fell off the bench with excitement. It had to be the same woman! She sounded so similar albeit in hushed tones, but she was complaining about her husband to herself. Or at least he assumed it was to herself, no other voice had chimed.

Did he dare make contact? What if it wasn't her? On the bright side the woman on the other side of the hedge wouldn't ever know his identity. But it had to be her, it sounded so similar. It also only seemed right that this woman would show up again under mysterious circumstances after a somewhat squabble with Catherine. Should he take a chance?

"Hello strange lady."

Catherine froze. She swore she actually felt her heart stop. The man must have figured out her identity. Hopefully he didn't try to blackmail her. She knew she shouldn't have gone last night.

Looking around she saw no one though. So the man was playing games.

"Don't panic, there is a hedge between us, if in fact you are the woman I danced with last night."

His voice was nervous sounding, so he was guessing. Catherine felt her heart slowly start back up. But it was the man from last night, the voice was the exact same.

"How did you know it was me?" She asked, she was dying to know how he found her in this secluded garden.

"I heard you muttering about your husband."

Ah, she actually had just been doing that. So the man hadn't known she was there for too long. Slowly she turned to look at the hedge. Her mysterious dance partner stood right there inches from her, but still hidden by branches, she'd never seen this man before in her life but now it seemed she couldn't shake him.

"Yes, you probably did hear me. We just had another argument." That wasn't quite true, but she knew one was brewing, she'd done enough in the past few hours to know that Henry was not happy. She heard him stifle a chuckle.

"My wife and I are in a similar situation, she has pulled antics just to pick a fight with me. Before approaching her I came out here to clear my head."

"Yes, I needed some space and stumbled upon this garden, which offers marvelous privacy from others."

"Minus the maze on the other side" he joked.

"Well you are welcome intrusion. It is nice to have someone to talk to, especially when one is feeling down. "There he went somehow able to get her to open up to him.

"I'm glad. I found your conversation very settling last night."

Catherine was flattered. They really did find solace with one another, if only they knew how to cure each other's marital problems.

"Do you think you will reconcile?" Catherine shouldn't ask, that should be information that he offers up. She really shouldn't pry. But the words were out there. Maybe if he and his wife could work through, maybe she and Henry could too?

She heard him inhale.

"I….." he trailed off, "I wish we could. There have just been years of anger and distrust that have built between us."

She understood completely.

"Have you tried? Would she be amenable to reconciliation?" When would she learn to stop? This gentleman was kind enough to open himself up to her and she wanted more, more of his story, his pain, and how it so reminded her of her own.

"I would give anything to know that she would be willing."

Henry had never uttered those words before. Outwardly he always acted like Catherine was a nuisance, but internally he always felt bad for the hand she'd been dealt by being married off to him. She deserved so much better. But a life without her seemed worse.

He would do anything to know Catherine still had any feelings towards him other than hatred. Despite his actions he did always think of her. She probably didn't realize that it was he who made sure that her favorite flowers were in every garden, or that her favorite pastries were always served. She especially didn't know that her portrait was in each of his bedrooms.

He didn't mind her not knowing that these little touches were his idea, rather he did them because he knew they would make her smile. Thinking further on it, he was glad Catherine didn't know, he didn't want her to feel like she owed him anything.

"Perhaps you should try. Are you forthcoming with your feelings?"

Henry had to stop himself from laughing out loud, "We are really only good at communicating our frustrations with each other." Plus he was sure if he just walked up to Catherine and said, "I love you" she would just give him a horrified expression.

"Then make your next encounter a more pleasant one. I hate when my husband walks in all angry, it immediately makes me feel on the defense." Her tone made him sound like she had lived through this on several occasions. "Give her a compliment, you needn't be over the top with it, perhaps tell her, her gown is lovely, or ask her opinion on something. I love when my husband seeks my counsel."

Henry digested everything the woman was saying, "And what of you? Would you want to reconcile?"

"I miss my husband, terribly, and I would love for us to be as we once were, but I'm not enough for him."

He understood her meaning. Her husband was similar to himself. Did his wandering hurt Catherine the way this woman was hurt. Why couldn't they appreciate what they had? Catherine was perfect and yet he allowed himself to be pulled in another direction.

"As a man who has strayed, please know that it's not that you are not enough. We aren't enough and are weak. It is us who are lacking." Henry had to say that. Catherine was not lacking in any way, he just had a weak character.

"Perhaps you should mention that to your wife." He loved that she used a sarcastic tone, trying to keep lighten up the otherwise heavy topic they were discussing, "Maybe then she will be more open to reconciliation."

If only it were that easy.

"Talking to you helps, it is therapeutic for me" he let slip. It was true. This woman was so similar to Catherine that it felt like he was talking to Catherine, and not some mysterious lady that would soon be back in Italy.

"I feel exactly the same."

Catherine did feel the same. She now also had no desire to seek Henry out to fight, maybe just to see him, but definitely not to argue. Perhaps as a sign of a truce she would make sure that dinner was to his liking.

Her companion didn't immediately comment back but it didn't feel awkward. Rather it felt like they were sitting side by side in companionable silence, like there wasn't a hedge and mysterious identities between them. Much like how she and Henry were at times when they'd stroll the gardens together.

"When do you leave for Italy?" his voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"Trying to figure out how many days you have to guess my identity?"

She heard him chuckle.

"Just trying to figure out how many more times we will bump into each other."

It was odd, this party had been going on for almost a week now, and it was only last night they met. Now here they were less than twenty-four hours later happening upon on one another in the garden.

"We leave at the end of the week" she made up a departure date. Most of the party was leaving then so it was a safe lie. She also needed him to know that it would be hopeless to try and ferret out her identity. That would not end well.

Noticing an arriving servant, Catherine immediately rose.

"I'm so sorry but I must be off." She did not need the servant to accidentally give away her name.

"Maybe I'll see you again, with or without a mask." She heard him call out causing her to smile. If only she and Henry could be so open with one another.