Chapter Five

The steady clash of swords rang out in the courtyard, as Henry and Richard leapt and lunged. Henry dodged behind a stone column and winced as his opponent's blade blunted against the unforgiving rock.

"You're improving!" he chuckled, leaping from behind the column to attack again.

A couple more minutes of impressive moves on both sides, and Richard's sword clattered to the ground, knocked from his hand by Henry's swordsmanship. Henry swaggered over and clapped his friend on the shoulder.

"A worthy opponent, Richard!"

"Well done. You have me beat – again!" Richard knew how much Henry liked to win. It was helpful that he was never going to be as skilled a swordsman as Henry, but he enjoyed the challenge nonetheless.

The two young men handed off their swords and protective outerwear to the waiting servant, and strolled out into the grounds to walk off the tension in their muscles.

Months had passed since Prince Francis had been taken ill and died, and Henry and Catherine were now quite the focus of French court. Richard knew that things were not going well for them. He had heard the rumours – the royal couple spending less time together, and Catherine was still not pregnant. Some of the rumours made his blood boil, being that they were rather unkind about Catherine and her inability to produce an heir for the throne of France. There had even been rumours of the Dauphin turning to other women instead of Catherine. There seemed an unspoken tension between the two of them, from what Richard had noticed. He didn't often bring up the subject of Henry's relationship with his wife, but on this afternoon he decided to.

"How goes it with Catherine?" he asked casually.

"Eh?" Henry was brought out of his contented thoughts rather abruptly. "Oh, you know." He gestured exasperatedly with his hand, and reached out with it to pluck a willow switch from the tree they were passing under. Sweeping it back and forth in front of him absent-mindedly, he stayed silent.

"Things don't seem easy for you these days…" ventured Richard, "Or for Catherine."

Henry sighed. "Richard, when you were courting Jeanette, did you ever feel as though she was the one in charge of your relationship?"

Richard thought back. His courtship with Jeanette had not lasted much longer than a year. She had begun to press him for more attention, but then he could hardly blame her, as his attention was very much elsewhere most of the time. He had ended their relationship, citing too great a focus on his duties as the reason behind it. It just wasn't fair to her. She would never measure up to Catherine, and she ought to be released to find a more attentive suitor, one who would make her happy and give her the attention she deserved. She had returned to Rouen not long afterwards.

"I suppose women are all the same," he sympathised, "Always wanting our time and attention, hey?"

"That's not the issue with Catherine, exactly. I just can't understand her!" He tossed his switch to the bushes in frustration. "She makes demands. She constantly presses me to do all these… things, just for the sake of producing an heir."

"She is anxious about not being pregnant yet?"

"Yes, but – Richard, she's obsessed! She is sending me mad! And she should NOT be the one making all the demands and decisions here, I mean, I am the man, am I not? And the Dauphin of France, no less!" Henry sat down heftily on the grassy bank they had come to, crossing his ankles and resting his forearms on his knees at his chest. He picked at the grass distractedly. "And Catherine doesn't submit to my authority. She ought to, but she doesn't!"

"She certainly does have a feisty side!" laughed Richard, hoping to break the tension. He himself loved this hot-blooded side of Catherine that had been revealing itself over the past year or two. She was so spirited and fiery when she wanted to be, and he wondered how he could ever have thought of her as mild and shy, as he did when she was new to French court. Seeing that spark, even in anger or irritation, made his blood course through his veins that bit faster. Her colour would rise, and her eyes would flash, and God help him, she was gorgeous when she was impassioned about something! He shook himself mentally, and returned his mind to the matter at hand.

"She is pushing me away, Richard. I don't believe she has feelings for me as such, not any more. All she cares about is having a child, and perhaps I am of no greater value to her now than to sire offspring! I can do no right where she's concerned!" He tossed a handful of plucked grass down the bank, and leaned back with a sigh. "I'm getting tired of it. She makes me wish… I don't know…"

Richard looked up sharply at his friend. "Makes you wish what? I've heard the rumours. Are they true?"

"A man has needs, you know? It's not sex she's withholding from me – no, she needs that to get the child she's longing for – but the companionship. I can't be in the room with her without having to wade through the bitter air that surrounds us. It becomes tiresome. Even the sex is little fun without the pressure to achieve something from it all the time. Sometimes – sometimes I want to seek a woman who will meet my needs without the tiresome atmosphere."

Richard did not know what to say. He could not believe his friend would seek any woman other than Catherine, although he heard and understood what he had said, that there was uncomfortable tension between them.

"I heard Diane de Poitiers is back at court," he said flatly, "Is that your doing?"

"Yes," Henry admitted, "To be honest with you Richard, I have been seeing Diane for some time, but it has been awkward having to leave court to travel and see her. So it made sense to bring her here."

"Officially, you mean? As your mistress?"

"Well, what am I to do?!" Henry slapped the ground and stood abruptly.

"I don't know. I didn't mean to accuse."

"I know you didn't. You don't know how Catherine's been lately. Diane is like – like a breath of fresh air. Perhaps I'll be a better husband for having her here – relieve the tension, you know?"

"What does Catherine say on the matter?"

"We haven't spoken of it yet. It's another conversation I'm rather dreading."

He sighed and the two of them began strolling back towards the castle. They walked in silence, with nothing much more to say. Richard felt shocked at the news. Not for his friend, but because he could not stop thinking about it from Catherine's point of view. She deserved so much better than to be betrayed in such a way. How could Henry not see what a treasure he had?! Anger began to bubble up inside him, and he bit it back. It would not do to let Henry see the strength of his feelings, because they could be traced back to Catherine. That would not do at all.

/-/-/-/-/-/-/

The next evening, a great banquet was held for some visiting dignitaries. Henry and Catherine arrived together, but quickly parted to greet and converse with groups of people on opposite sides of the room. Richard noticed the heads turn and the whispers begin amongst some of the less discrete nobles of French court.

When it came time for the meal, he discovered that Diane had been seated opposite Henry, where she exchanged glances and occasional smiles with him across the table throughout the meal. He could hardly bear it for poor Catherine, who looked at first as though she might like to reach across the table and behead the older woman with her butter knife, but as the evening wore on, she began to look more and more flushed and miserable, observing the exchanges between Diane and her husband, who was seated next to her. This was so unlike Catherine in a public setting, that it hurt Richard to see the depths of her unhappiness. He felt protective of her too, for he wished he could shield her pain from the prying, unkind eyes of all French Court. He wished too that he had been seated on Catherine's side of Henry, so that he could distract her with conversation, but alas, he was too far from her, and would have had to cut across Henry to talk to her in any case. At length, he managed to catch her eye, and gave her a warm smile. In response, Catherine smiled back, less brilliantly than usual, but she lifted her chin and seemed to clothe herself anew with an air of dignity despite her situation. Richard felt such admiration for her at that moment.

Greatly relieved at the evening finally drawing to a close, Richard began making his way through the crowded room, wanting to show some kindness to Catherine before retiring to his chambers. Beyond the groups of nobles, talking and laughing amongst themselves, he scanned the room for Catherine. He saw Henry, standing next to the lavish display of flowers at the side of the great hall they had been dining in. At his side was Diane de Poitiers, and Richard pushed down a swell of disgust at the sight of her somewhat covertly running her hand down the back of his upper arm, and lingering a moment at his elbow. Henry was greatly at ease, laughing and talking with friends and obviously comfortable with Diane's subtle display of intimacy.

Richard stopped short as he saw Catherine striding towards them, her eyes flashing and her arms tense. He held his breath, not knowing what would take place.

"A word, Henry!"

A hush fell over the group as Catherine's eyes locked angrily with Henry's, before she turned sharply and left the room. Henry, slightly embarrassed by his wife's brief display, made his apologies to the group of friends and followed her.