Chapter Six

Doing his best to pretend he was diverting inquisitive people from the walled garden on behalf of his friend, Richard knew he was doing it entirely for Catherine's sake. Standing in the crisp November air in front of the archway, it seemed that at every moment, somebody appeared who just happened to be wondering if they had left their cloak, or who felt they might just want to take a stroll in the very location where everybody knew the Dauphin and Dauphine had removed themselves to, after they had exited the banquet with such an air of animosity.

After a few minutes of fending these people off, they stopped appearing. Richard was able to attend to his own anxious thoughts at last. He had never seen Catherine so incensed before – not just hurt, but angry too. He knew she must have seen Diane's attention to her husband, just as Richard had seen himself. And now they were in the garden, arguing. He felt anguished and helpless, catching the sound of their raised voices. He moved through the archway into the garden, and leaned against a tree whose leaves lay darkly against the soil in the flickering light of the torches attached to the stone walls. He could not see Henry and Catherine, but he could hear their conversation more clearly from where he was. He had not meant to eavesdrop, but he couldn't bear the waiting and not knowing whether Catherine was alright.

"Treat her well, Henry, treat her well…" was all he could think in his mind as he kept as still as possible.

A pause had taken place in the heated discussion between the young royals, but now it resumed once more.

"How do you think it makes me feel, Henry?!"

"You're making your feelings fairly obvious, so this must be a trick question."

"SHE WAS FLIRTING WITH YOU! IN FRONT OF EVERYBODY!" A huff of frustration. "And you didn't think to show disdain, or distance yourself from her, at such an occasion?!"

"Catherine, Diane is here for me. I summoned her to court for me."

Richard heard Catherine breathe in sharply. There was a silence, and then she spoke in an odd, throaty tone; deeper, heavier, and quieter than before.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that I have taken Diane as my mistress, and I intend for her to stay at court permanently."

Catherine gave a hollow laugh, and commented sarcastically, "Well this will really help us in our efforts to provide France with an heir! Good thinking, Henry!"

Henry responded in an instant, angry at her mocking remark. "IT'S YOUR OBSESSION WITH AN HEIR THAT HAS BROUGHT US TO THIS PLACE!" he shouted. "You have changed, Catherine." He sighed. "You have pushed me away. You have pushed me into the arms of someone who would find no fault in me."

Richard seethed at the selfishness of his best friend. How could he say such a thing to Catherine, who must feel so betrayed and alone right now?! He held his breath, anxious for a sound from his favourite. He couldn't bear for her heart to be broken, and it undoubtedly had been. She did not speak, and it was Henry who spoke again next.

"I feel – I think it would be wise for us to live separately, for a time at least. Still husband and wife, of course, in as much as our royal duties demand it of us. That will include continuing to try to have a child. I'm sorry it has come to this, Catherine, but I feel it is for the best."

"For the best?!" Catherine's voice sounded ragged and hoarse, "For the best?! You cannot be serious about this! You would throw away all that we have, just to have some - some WHORE stroke your ego?!" Her anger was back. "Is this truly for the good of France, or just something to satisfy your selfish desires?! What am I to do with this situation?!"

"Don't speak to me of selfish desires, Catherine!" Henry's deep voice cut the cold air angrily. "What do you desire these days other than to satisfy your own needs?! There is no affection, no companionship – all you want from me is a child, and I am weary of such a marriage! Let me find solace in the arms of someone who desires to meet MY needs."

Catherine sounded hurt and confused as she chose her reply carefully. "I – I do desire to meet your needs…"

"No, you don't. You are deceiving yourself if you believe that. You desire offspring, for your own protection, and little else. If that isn't an antidote to a happy marriage, I don't know what is."

Richard stiffened as he heard shuffling movements – one of the two of them was undoubtedly getting up to leave, and he did not want to be caught listening in the archway. But before anything could happen, Catherine spoke up sharply.

"Fine. Let your whore meet your needs, since I clearly have no further say in the matter." Her tone was angry and laced with sarcasm, as she added, "You know where I am if you want to fulfil your duty at any point in the future."

Richard scurried hastily through the archway and into the covered entrance of the castle, where he tried to look unconcerned and casual, in time for Henry to stride tempestuously out of the walled garden and spot his friend.

"Richard," he muttered darkly, "Come. Drink with me."

And Richard was swept along to the dining hall where the wine still flowed, though longing to remain at the garden to see if he could comfort Catherine. He hated leaving her alone after such an upsetting fight with Henry, and after the things that his friend had revealed to her, but he must not arouse suspicion, so he went willingly with Henry, and rounded up a few lively noblemen along with the wine to help his friend in his drinking quest.

It was a full half hour later that he was able to excuse himself from the party of laughing, significantly more merry men, and attempt to find out what had become of Catherine.

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Where on earth could she be?! And should he even be pursuing her like this?! He felt as though his feet were propelled against his will, by some sort of insanity. He had done his best to give the appearance of drinking as much as the others in the dining hall, without actually doing so. He wanted his wits about him. Richard had enquired at Catherine's chambers already, but was told that she had not returned from the banquet. It did not occur to him at first that she may perhaps have remained at the walled garden, but, having eliminated all the other locations where he had thought she might be, he decided to return to the garden.

Passing through the archway where he had overheard the unhappy conversation between Henry and Catherine, he entered the garden. The light was dim, being that it was long past sunset, but torches flickered here and there along the castle walls to give a little light. He stood still, wondering which way to go first. Perhaps to the water fountain? His breath came fast and foggy on the cold night air. Picking up his pace a little, he padded softly in the direction of the fountain. Approaching it, he could already see that Catherine wasn't there. The sense of urgency to find her increasing, he turned left through some flower beds, heading for the row of young fruit trees that had been planted in the year of her marriage to Henry. But he stopped short, still a fair way from the trees, when he heard something beyond the bushes to his right. Stepping up close, and parting the leaves gently, he peered through.

There, sitting on the stone bench in front of the beautiful autumnal tones of the reddened ivy that climbed the walls of the garden here, he saw Catherine. She was crying and, going by the evidence of her puffy eyes and pink cheeks, she had been crying for some time. She looked broken, to Richard, as though she had begun angry, and the tears had gradually drained away all her fire and spark, and left her empty. His heart broke with hers, and he longed to hold her. Thankfully she was not alone – one of her ladies-in-waiting must have been alerted and come to meet her needs – she had draped Catherine with a fur robe, and was hovering anxiously over her. Irritated, Catherine shooed her away with a wave of her hand, and the lady retreated back to the castle.

Without another thought, Richard made his way around the bushes to Catherine. She didn't even look up, but simply uttered, "I said leave me, Beatrice."

Richard cleared his throat, standing a little way in front of her. She looked up sharply, and when she saw him, her expression softened into one of tired curiosity at his presence, her sweet mouth forming a little 'o', silently questioning why he was there. Her eyes followed him as he walked towards her and sat beside her on the bench, tears marking her cheeks still, but no longer falling.

He didn't know what to say to her. He felt suddenly as though he had a reason to be guilty, not only for invading her privacy, but as though for being Henry's closest friend, he was as guilty as Henry, and that she would feel that he too had betrayed her heart. As though sensing his thoughts, Catherine looked down at her hands.

"You knew? About Henry and Diane?"

"Yes." Richard's voice barely broke a whisper. Catherine sighed, a long, shuddery, weary sound. She didn't say anything.

"I'm so sorry."

Catherine's eyes snapped to Richard. "You're sorry? For what?"

"For – because… I don't mean to be disloyal to Henry, but I can't stand to see him treat you like this. I'm sorry he has hurt you. You don't deserve that."

Catherine observed him with wide eyes in the silence. They were so close to each other that even in the flickering light, Richard could see the rich honey tone of her eyes, and the way her wet eyelashes clung to one-another. He longed to reach up and use the soft pad of his thumb to wipe away the remnant tears that still wetted her cheeks beneath those beautiful eyes, but he did not. She was waiting for him to explain himself, and he knew that if he didn't pull himself together, he might lose the ability to speak to her ever again, such was the effect she had on him.

Richard looked down, and picked up her hand, cold from resting on the stone bench, and spoke softly.

"I just wanted to let you know that, although I'm Henry's friend, I am also yours. I do not share Henry's perspective. I – I am here for you, if you need a friend."

Catherine looked at his hand wrapped protectively around her smaller one, and then back at his face.

"Thank you Richard," she said with gratitude, and gave him a watery smile. Richard smiled back at her, raising her hand to his lips to kiss it briefly, before standing.

"Now, may I escort you to your chambers, m'lady?" He bowed graciously.

The breathiest of laughs from his treasure. "Yes, you may, kind sir."

She stood and, looping her hand over his forearm, they walked back through the empty corridors to Catherine's chambers. Richard hated the idea of Catherine's reputation being tarnished by Henry's hurtfulness, or that people would talk unkindly about her unhappiness that evening. He had wanted to escort her in order to protect her from prying eyes, and he was thankful that they came across nobody on their route except for a servant girl bustling along with her head down.

At the doors to her chambers, Catherine turned to face Richard. She looked tired and flushed, but stronger, somehow.

"Thank you," she said, and smiled a real smile that lit Richard's heart. "I appreciate your kindness this evening."

"Any time." Richard responded. And he meant it. Day or night, any hour, he would gladly drop everything, miss sleep, incur consequences for tardiness, ANYTHING for Catherine. He watched her door close behind her, and rubbed his face with his hand.