AN: Thank you for the lovely reviews! :)

Chapter 11

Richard found it harder that week than he ever had before, to keep his mind off Catherine. Endlessly he seemed to be replaying the events of that evening in his mind. Her tears, their kisses, how she felt in his arms after she had trusted him with her heart, and they had shed their clothes. He tried not to allow himself to expect anything more from Catherine – indeed there was no reason why he should – but his heart continually betrayed him. He was clumsy in the simplest of tasks, distracted and absent-minded. If it hadn't been for the fact that the mood at French Court was particularly upbeat in preparation for a festival with lavish entertainments, he would surely have been on the receiving end of some aggravated responses from those annoyed by his distractedness.

Spring was in full bloom and, along with nature's rejoicing, the castle's occupants were thrilled to be relieved of the seemingly endless winter that had finally faded away. It was warm enough now to enjoy the castle grounds, though not yet to dine outside by the lake. Everybody looked forward to attending the festivities that week. The event was official in nature, so the formal announcement of important guests and members of the royal family was to be expected.

On the afternoon of the festival, large crowds gathered in the grounds, and the hum of laughter and conversation filled the air as the musicians took their places on the platform set up for them on the lawn. The King and Queen were announced and arrived, and shortly afterwards, to everyone's surprise, Henry arrived with Diane on his arm instead of Catherine. Richard did not know what to think! Was Catherine attending at all? Why would Henry arrive at an official event without his wife at his side?! Before he could think further on the matter, he heard Catherine's arrival being announced, and she appeared, elegant and beautiful, but alone. A hush fell over those attending at the realisation, but it seemed quickly forgotten as the music struck up a merry tune, and the noise of conversation picked up again.

Richard shot a glance at Catherine. She wore her mask of quiet dignity as always, and looked absolutely incredible in her gown of pale green with silver embroidery and pearl embellishments. Diane, tall and willowy, in a dark dress, could not even be compared to Catherine. Richard still could not understand it, how Henry could choose Diane over Catherine. Just to look at them, there was no comparison at all. He saw Diane give Catherine a snake-like look, and he hated her all the more. Catherine appeared unperturbed, and only Richard knew the almost imperceptible angle of her head as she lifted her chin, as a sign of her struggle to maintain her unaffected appearance.

As people dispersed to see the various entertainments around the gardens, Richard finally had an opportunity to cross paths with Catherine without it looking intentional.

"It's a fine afternoon for it!" he remarked cheerfully to her, as a small group walked past them.

"Yes, isn't it," responded Catherine absently. They waited, smiling politely at the passers-by, and when they were out of earshot, Catherine spoke in a much more animated tone. "If I have to endure much more of their stares and whispers, I shall go insane! Spring or no spring, I would rather be anywhere else than here at this moment!"

"I'm sorry. It hasn't been the best day for you, has it?"

She sighed. "No. That – that whore Diane, and her smugness! It's so humiliating!"

"I know. She reminds me of a snake." Richard shuddered. "I honestly don't know what Henry sees in her. You are quite fifty times as beautiful as she is, and not remotely reptilian!"

Catherine smiled, enjoying his humour. "You always seem to know the right words to say, Richard."

"Well, I'm glad that there's something I can do for you, m'lady." He would have winked, but he didn't want to be seen, and in any case, he felt it might be too roguish.

"Come to me tonight?" she suddenly whispered, looking off to the side at the floral displays with disinterest.

"Are you sure?"

"I wouldn't ask otherwise."

"I shall look forward to it." He bowed respectfully, and she turned to give him a brief smile of acknowledgement so that nobody would think anything of their interaction. Only Richard saw the sparkle in her eyes before she looked away again.

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

Richard knocked at Catherine's doors that evening, holding an important looking pile of papers and books, for the benefit of anybody passing who might see him in the vicinity of Catherine's chambers.

"Enter!" came the voice he would never tire of hearing, from within.

Richard opened the door, and exclaimed as he began to step through, "Henry has asked me to take you through these papers – I'm sorry for the late hour, but he insists…"

"That's quite alright, Richard. You'd better bring them here."

He closed the door behind him carefully. His lady was waiting for him, sitting on the edge of her bed, wearing the most exquisite nightgown Richard had ever seen, and an incredibly mischievous smile. He had never wanted her so badly. Dumping the pile on the desk, he half-ran to the bed. She giggled, watching him make his way to her.

He reached her, kissing her with passion as he laid her back onto the bed. Her hands came around his back and she pulled at his shirt, kissing him back feverishly. She had such a way with her tongue! He stroked her breast, toying with her erect nipple through the silk nightgown, and attempted to wriggle the shirt off his back as Catherine squirmed underneath him and pushed at his clothing. He was so aroused that he could barely see straight! He longed to get her out of that nightgown and have her skin against his again. The little gasp she made as he squeezed her nipple through the thin fabric was music to his ears. Suddenly, it was as though he had tunnel vision. All he could think about – all he wanted in life at this moment in time, was to bring this woman as much pleasure as he could possibly give her, to find out what sounds she might make, and to hear her ecstasy for himself. He could think of nothing more desirable.

Motioning for her to shift up the bed towards the pillows, he grasped her backside to help slide her along. How many years he had wanted to put his hands there, and now here he was. The reality was even better than the dream. They climbed between the sheets, and Catherine smiled at him. He paused, leaning on his elbow, taking in her beautiful face.

"What?" she asked him softly, eyes smiling with her lips.

"Just you," he replied. "You are so lovely. I can't believe I get to be here next to you, seeing you like this. It's like a dream, but it's really true. I must be the luckiest man alive!"

Catherine laughed and swatted him lightly with her hand. "Such flattery!" she protested mildly.

Richard leaned in and kissed her languidly, relishing every moment of the contact with her lips, before pulling back and reminding her, "I only speak the truth. I'm in love with you."

Her eyes seemed to soften with a look of fondness and, dare he hope it, a true realisation that she was loved – lovable, and treasured by someone. She pulled him in close for a kiss, and laying almost on top of her, he let his hands roam her body.

At that moment, footsteps could be heard outside the door to Catherine's chambers, and they parted in a fright. The handle of the door clicked briskly as the door was opened. Richard instinctively half-rolled, half-dove over the far side of Catherine's bed onto the floor, and edged himself underneath before staying perfectly still. He heard Catherine sit up in bed, and address the visitor.

"Henry. What can I do for you? I was just getting ready to go to sleep."

Her voice was remarkably calm and unaffected, and Richard marvelled at her ability to adapt to any situation. His blood ran cold. If he hadn't acted so quickly… or if Henry had arrived a few minutes sooner, when he wasn't in such a position to hide so fast... He shuddered at the thought. They had almost been caught. He was thankful that his shirt, though undone, was still on his shoulders, and not on the floor for Henry to discover. Now he would have to wait and hope to be silent enough until Henry left.

"I haven't visited your chambers in a while, and it seemed an opportune moment."

"Oh, well… Henry, I am rather tired tonight."

Henry sounded rather irritable in response. "Since you are so keen to conceive an heir, I would have thought you might put in the effort, since I have."

Richard wanted to leap up from his hiding place and punch Henry square in the face. But he stayed put. Would Catherine be able to get rid of him? Would she even want to? He waited, breathlessly.

"You're right, of course. Forgive me." Catherine rose from the bed, and Richard could see her bare feet walking across the decorative rug to her husband. She stood on tiptoe, and removed Henry's doublet and shirt, laying them on the chaise. When she returned to him, she stood up on her toes again, and Richard could not see any higher from his position, but he could hear them kissing. His heart sank. How long might he have to stay here, and what agony would he have to go through in listening to somebody else (somebody undeserving, corrected his heart) make love to the woman who had his heart?

Henry's hand came into view, slowly smoothing the silky fabric of Catherine's nightgown down over her hips and rear. He paused here to squeeze the delightful curve that Richard's own hands had so recently enjoyed, and his deep voice rumbled quietly, "I do like this nightgown on you." Steering his wife to the bed, he laid her onto it with a grinding of the mattress above Richard's head. Richard held his breath, though he knew it made no difference to breathe – he should not be heard if he just kept still. He could no longer see the couple above him, but he could hear them. He silently prayed that it would be a quick conjugal visit, and that Henry would leave immediately afterwards. He was grateful for the thick rug covering most of the floor in the bedchamber. The stone underneath would have been quite unforgiving against his thin layer of clothing for any length of time.

The sounds from the bed were becoming more heated already. Richard envied Henry his skill with women – this specific skill, at any rate. Catherine certainly sounded… very receptive and appreciative. It aroused Richard to hear her pleasured sighs turn to moans, but when she groaned out Henry's name as her pleasure mounted, his heart ached. Richard had to accept what he already knew. Catherine loved Henry, desired Henry – it was obvious in her voice. He couldn't hope for that to ever change, no matter how selfishly Henry behaved, nor how much he hurt her. It wasn't fair, it wasn't right! He felt angry and jealous of his friend as he lay there listening to their love-making.

The bedframe creaked as though it might come apart, rhythmically grinding as he assumed Henry grinded Catherine atop it. Faster their pace went, and harder Richard prayed that the bed would not collapse and crush him with their passion. He felt utterly depressed with his situation, and waiting for the pair to finish their race was painful. The gasps and soft cries that Catherine made were the silver lining. He longed for nothing more than to hear those sounds for him, caused by his own touch, perhaps one day. He was immensely aroused, despite his displeasure, and took comfort in the thought that he could take care of himself at a later time, replaying Catherine's sounds in his mind. At least that was something to look forward to.

Suddenly Henry grunted, and the bed stopped moving. Richard couldn't tell that Catherine had been fully satisfied, but the deed appeared to be done all the same. Now he just had to wait, and hope that Henry would leave. Did he normally stay the night after sleeping with Catherine? He didn't know.

There was quiet talking above him in mumbled voices, and a sleepy chuckle from Catherine, almost as though they were a happily married couple settling down for the night together. Richard nearly gave a sigh, but caught himself in time. Henry rose from the bed, and walked to put out the candles, and then – to Richard's dismay – returned to his wife!

It seemed an age before Catherine could be heard breathing deeply and rhythmically, though Richard could tell that Henry wasn't asleep by the way he tossed and turned. Eventually, he stepped quietly out of the bed, and dressed silently. Returning to tuck the covers around Catherine, he left the room. Richard waited a long while before he felt safe to climb out from underneath the bed. He buttoned up his shirt, and knelt at Catherine's side, watching her lovely face as she slept – so relaxed and contented. Impulsively, he whispered, "If you were mine, I would never leave you. And your pleasure would come first, always." He leaned in and kissed her cheek, and then left, clicking the door shut quietly behind him.