Chapter 19

Passing near to the outer walkway as he talked with his friend Robert, Richard noticed little groups of people whispering to each other as their eyes were glued to the grounds outside the castle. As they came nearer to the archway leading out into the gardens, he became aware of voices in the distance, raised and angry-sounding.

"Someone's giving the gossips something to chew on!" remarked Robert with a chuckle.

Suddenly, Catherine's voice came clear on the breeze to where they were standing.

"I do not have to explain myself, nor shall I allow you to humiliate me any further by doing so!"

Richard's heart was suddenly in his mouth, and he made a quick excuse to Robert about Henry needing his support, and headed for the gardens, pushing his way past the gatherings of nosey servants and nobles alike.

He met Henry, striding angrily in his direction, practically kicking the very stones and shrubs out of the ground as he did so. The people scattered hastily. Richard could see Catherine walking briskly in the opposite direction across the garden, under the cover of tall trees deeper into the grounds. Her posture was stiff and angry, and he knew she would want to give the appearance of wanting to get some space to clear her head after a heated argument with her husband. He knew, of course, that she must be feeling terrible inside, given that it was all an act. She certainly could act well though, he thought to himself with surprise.

As Henry approached him, Richard shrugged slightly, holding up his hands in question. Henry was too angry to stop walking, but as he came level with Richard, he ground out harshly, "She's all yours! I don't know that I can stand to be near her another minute! Go, if you like. See if you can figure her out, and let me know if you can get to the bottom of this madness!" Then he was gone.

Richard set off immediately across the lawns in the direction that he'd seen Catherine heading. Making his way under the trees, he called out, "Catherine! Wait!"

Hearing no reply, he pressed on. Pushing through the thickening bushes into the central part of the grounds, he listened out over the sound of his own rapid breathing, for any sign of Catherine nearby.

Finally, he came upon her sitting on a log bench in a clearing, the ground around her a vibrantly coloured carpet of fallen leaves, and her burgundy dress matching the scene beautifully.

She was leaning forwards with her elbows on her knees, her face in her hands. At first, Richard thought she was crying, and it would not have been at all unexpected if she were, but when she heard his footsteps, she startled, lifting her face and giving an awkward little laugh as she saw him.

"Oh! You startled me, Richard! I thought it was Henry, come for another round."

Richard sat beside her cautiously, feeling concerned for her. "Are you alright? Henry went straight into the castle as though he might take the walls down with him – I'm sure you're safe from another round for a while."

"I'm fine. Thank you for your concern, though." The silence felt strained and unnatural between them, and she flipped her hand casually at non-existent flies.

Richard narrowed his eyes a little, looking at her carefully. She was being too cheerful, too closed, too polite.

"Catherine," he tried, putting his arm around her shoulders, "Aren't you upset?"

She pushed his arm away. "I said I'm fine. You don't have to be so overprotective!" And she stood abruptly.

"My love, you've always been able to talk to me about what's on your heart – you don't have to hide your feelings from me now."

Catherine glared at him, "Perhaps I don't want to talk! Perhaps I don't have any feelings! Hasn't Henry told you that one by now?!"

She turned and began walking furiously through the trees in the direction of the castle. Baffled, Richard got up and followed her, but she shouted over her shoulder for him to leave her alone. Perhaps it was one of the moods she had mentioned, related to her pregnancy? He wanted so much to catch up with her and talk like they used to, intimately and wholeheartedly, without holding anything back. He wished he could hold her and let her cry or shout or whatever she needed, so long as he was there and could make her feel secure and loved after she had let it all out. He hadn't considered that she wouldn't let him near her, and he did not know what to do. Perhaps it wasn't just an act? Maybe Henry really had angered her, and she was as annoyed with Henry as he was with her?

Over the weeks that followed, things between the Dauphin of France and his wife were very much back to the way they used to be. The couple were cold and distant, and rarely came together except for official appearances. Any time they were seen or heard together outside of those occasions, they were usually engaged in a heated argument.

Richard had expected Catherine to confide in him more once things were going badly with Henry, or even to seek him out for comfort as she had done in the past. But she seemed strangely distant from him too, and he couldn't understand why. He longed to be close to her during this difficult time for her, and tried many times to get past her walls that she seemed to have built around herself, offering friendship, company, meals to share, or gently coaxing her to talk. But she would not. She spent some time with Richard, but she seemed to have a mask on and was quick to become irritable and angry with him if he pressed the issue. He didn't want to back off and leave her without support, so he kept loving her as best he could, feeling somewhat hurt and confused that she should shun him like this. He felt sure that she was hurting underneath, and he would not leave her in pain, no matter how hard she pushed him away.

Then came a cold afternoon in early December, when the heavy clouds threatened the first snowfall of the season. The day when Henry brought Diane back to court. Richard had heard the carriage arrive, and glanced out of the nearest window (along with half the castle, who had been hearing rumours that she would be returning if Catherine didn't mend her ways for Henry), to see her stepping darkly from her carriage, her gloved hand held by Henry. He looked excessively pleased to see her, and kissed her cheek, confirming to all the spectators that his official mistress was officially back.

That evening there was a banquet to mark the birthday of Princess Margaret, and Richard watched Catherine arrive alone, instead of on the arm of her husband. He noticed that the formal gown she wore was not a corset-style dress like her others. It was beautiful, flowing, and ornate, and the change was subtle. He hoped it would be unnoticed by others, as anything more relevant than a slight change in style. She looked so lovely, her hair coiled elegantly up off her neck, while little wispy curls moved slightly in the air as she turned her head this way and that, sizing up the event. As the crowds of nobles took their seats at the banquet table, Richard saw Catherine's face harden for only a second, before the mask of elegant dignity replaced the look. Following her gaze, he saw that Henry and Diane had been seated next to each other, with Catherine's seat placed opposite, across the table, next to her celebrated sister-in-law.

He inwardly hated Henry for wasting no time after Diane's arrival, getting her right under Catherine's skin that very same day. He felt helpless, being seated further down the table from the royal couple, unable to be of any comfort to Catherine, should she need any. He hoped that she would manage to bear the evening tolerably, and determined to seek her out afterwards in case she was in need of a friend.

Richard admired Catherine more than ever as the evening went on. She barely even glanced across the table, not even allowing Henry or Diane the satisfaction of her attention. She engaged herself in very cheerful conversation with Princess Margaret for most the meal, and even talked with the King a couple of seats further down, giggling when he joked or complimented her. Richard felt so proud of her, and greatly enjoyed the sour looks Diane kept giving at her lack of success.

Towards the end of the evening, while Diane hung snake-like on Henry's arm, and Richard was engaged in an exceedingly dull conversation that he couldn't seem to escape with the Marquis-of-somewhere that Richard had forgotten less than one minute after their introduction, he saw Catherine cheerfully bidding the King and Queen goodnight, making ready to retire to her chambers. Before he could squirm away from his boring companion, she had already disappeared.

Between the dull Marquis and two other merry conversationalists who had interrupted his plans as he tried to make his way out of the party, it was at least twenty minutes before he was finally able to leave. Henry and Diane had retired together ten minutes earlier, and Richard had no doubt of their plans for the night, going by the looks they were giving each other. He could not bear the sight of either of them at this moment in time, and he only wanted to get to Catherine. Although by now, he was concerned that she would already have been dressed for bed and perhaps might even be asleep for the night. He hastened down the corridors to her chambers as quickly as he was able.

Pausing outside her doors, and hearing no sound of servants bustling inside, he knocked. There was no response from within. He knocked again, sensing that she was not asleep, but that she was choosing not to answer.

"Catherine? It's Richard."

The voice that came muffled through the closed doors sounded hollow and unhappy.

"Please go away."

He could not bear the unhappiness in her tone – it sounded to Richard as though her very heart was breaking, and he no longer cared if he incurred her wrath. He had to be near her, and nothing would incite him to go to bed and leave her alone in her sorrow. Taking a deep breath, he grasped the handle, opened the door and went in, closing it quickly behind him. He expected a tirade of indignant words for his intrusion, and spoke as soon as he entered the room, hoping to get in what he needed to say before she began.

"Catherine, I will not leave you when - " He stopped short.

The room was dimly lit by a few candles and the soft glow of the fire burning low in the fireplace, and he could see that Catherine had gone to bed. She was curled on her side, her back to Richard. One of the pillows from her bed was held tight to her chest, and her arms seemed to cling to it for dear life. When she heard Richard, she curled tighter around the pillow and buried her face in it. Her beautiful hair lay fanned out on the pillow behind her. He caught the tell-tale sound of a stifled sob, and his heart filled with compassion for her. She had been so prickly with him for weeks – he didn't know how he should approach her, even if she was at least showing her feelings now. He felt guilty for not pressing her harder before now. How many nights had she cried herself to sleep without anyone for comfort, without him even knowing about it? He felt angry at himself too, for not keeping the promise he made to be a comfort to Catherine whenever she needed it. Thank goodness he had decided to be bold and insist on seeing her tonight. He took a few tentative steps towards her bed.

"Catherine?" Another sob, a little louder this time. He reached the bed, and sat down behind her, reaching out to stroke her hair.

"Oh, my darling, don't cry…" At his words and his touch, Catherine lifted her face from the pillow, but she did not turn around, nor did she speak. Her sobs came faster, and she began to cry openly. Richard lay down next to her, curling his body around hers protectively as he tried his best to soothe her. He reached his arms around her body, searching for her hands to hold, which were buried in her pillow. When he found them, she was clutching the pearl necklace that Henry had given her before she had to push him away. He knew she had been broken-hearted over it, all this time.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered softly behind her ear, dropping gentle kisses into her hair.

For a moment, Catherine couldn't speak, she was so overcome by her tears. After a moment, she managed a hoarse voice. "It hurt too much to think about it," she sobbed, "Talking about it would have been worse. I'm s-sorry I pushed you away along with Henry. I didn't mean to hurt you! I – I suppose I was too busy pushing my feelings down, and everything attached to them went too." And she turned in his arms and buried her face in his chest.

"My poor love." Richard held her close, rubbing her back and stroking her hair, relieved beyond measure to have her in his arms again where he was quite sure she belonged, "What you've been going through… You ought to have had my arms around you every time you felt this way!"

Her arms around him gave a little squeeze. "I am so glad of them now."

Shifting her body so that she lay tucked in tightly against his side, he pulled her leg over his, cradling her head into his neck, his arms wrapped around her. He felt the warm curve of her growing belly against his hip, and an unexpected tenderness washed over him. She let out a shuddery sigh, a mixture of heartache and relief, as she relaxed into his embrace.

"Please stay with me. I don't want to be alone tonight."

Richard reached behind her and pulled her coverlet over them both. He kissed her forehead and breathed in her sweet strawberry blonde hair.

"If I had my way, I would stay with you forever, and never leave you. You'd grow sick of the sight of me!" His chuckle rumbled through his chest and made her hum. "I will stay with you as long as I am able. But we can't be caught together, Catherine."

"I know," she responded sadly, "Please just hold me for now."

He held her, the love of his life, in his arms until she fell asleep, and as long as he dared beyond that. There was no greater privilege than holding her, comforting her, feeling each breath she took against his chest, watching the soft rise and fall of her back under the covers. The intensity of his love for her made him ache. When he became anxious that he would fall asleep, he knew it was time to leave. Easing out gently from underneath her leg, and disentangling her arms from his body, he slid off the edge of the bed. Pulling his pillow down from its place, still warm from him lying against it, he lifted her arm and pushed it snugly to her chest, curling her arm back around it. She stirred slightly, squeezing the pillow a little and snuggling in tighter. Richard brushed the loose curls from her cheek, and kissed her there. He kissed her temple, and her forehead, and then tucked the coverlet around her cosily.

Pausing at the door reluctantly, he looked back at the lovely creature in the bed. How he hated leaving her.