Chapter 23

The route to the farm house was over open land, but it was an easy ride, for it was situated up the hillside somewhat, and had escaped any flooding. The ground was wet, but not waterlogged, and Richard was thankful not to encounter any delays. He arrived at the farm house before too long, seeing the smoke rising from the chimney and the glow of firelight. He put up the hood of his cloak, just in case for some reason Catherine couldn't answer the door to him herself, or perhaps one of her ladies was watching from a window unseen. Tying his horse to the nearby shelter which was well supplied with fresh hay, Richard drew his cloak close around him and knocked at the door of the farm house, waiting for a response.

After some moments, a bolt was drawn back, and the door opened cautiously. There she stood – his Catherine. Her hair was loose around her shoulders and she wore thick chamber robes, swathed snugly around her, reaching to the floor. She didn't say a word or even smile at him, she simply put out a small hand from the layers of robes, and took Richard by the wrist, pulling him gently into the house, and closing and bolting the door after him. Then she turned and led him down a long passageway to a door which opened up into a cosy room. A fire burned merrily in the fireplace, and it was warm and inviting with candles recently lit in readiness for dusk, as the sun was beginning to set. There were comfortable armchairs around the room, but Catherine led him to the large bed in the corner of the room, piled with pillows and warm blankets. She pushed some of them aside to make space, before shedding her chamber robe and draping it over a nearby chair.

Now that she was wearing only a nightgown, Richard could plainly see that she was no longer with child, and he looked up at her, his mouth open with surprise, and his eyes questioning and concerned.

"Catherine, what - " he began, but she held up her hand, eyes closed, and he could see then that she was struggling to compose herself. He waited, worried for her. She sat beside him. She would not look at him, and she fidgeted constantly with the lace edging on the cuffs of her nightgown. Finally, she took a careful, steady breath.

"The child was born during the storm. There were no complications, and my ladies sent for Jaume Nostredame in any case. He was not at court at the time because of the storm, and he lives near the woods only a couple of hours ride from here, towards the castle. He is sworn to secrecy, of course, and I trust him."

She paused. Richard did not know what to say, so he kept silent and waited for Catherine to continue. He wished so badly that he could hold her. It was as though he knew she needed it. But she needed to speak first, to tell him what had happened.

"While I was in labour… I – I had a change of heart. I don't know what it was – the intensity of the situation, perhaps. Knowing the moment was almost upon me to meet the child and have it taken to the orphanage almost immediately. I just… couldn't do it." She began to wring her hands as she recounted her experience, staring out at the fire. "I thought perhaps there would be a way to have the baby brought to the castle, as though it had been found nearby." She gave a shaky laugh at herself. "I know that's ridiculous – the obvious thing would be to take such a child to an orphanage, even if it was brought to the castle. But I couldn't see that at the time…. I thought – I thought that I wouldn't need to show any connection to it. Nothing could tie the child to me, and the wet-nurses could care for it. We would not have to send our own child away."

For the first time since he had arrived, Catherine's eyes flicked to Richard, and she touched his hand softly with her fingertips. Then the moment passed, and she went back to twisting her fingers agitatedly in her lap.

"I had planned for Nostredame to take the child and pretend that he had discovered it, bringing it to the castle – even while I remained here. It would cast even less suspicion on me that way. He agreed. I felt so relieved about it." She picked at her cuticles. "I wished I had thought of it before."

"What happened?" Richard needed to know.

"I laboured overnight." Catherine stared miles beyond the fire that she was looking into. "Everything went very well. The wind howled and it seemed like the rain would fairly sweep the house away. And it hurt. More than I expected. I thought of you," her voice cracked slightly and Richard fought the urge to sweep her up in his arms and protect her from whatever was hurting her. "I thought of all these months and all the fear, and how it was nearly behind us. I thought of your love for me, and it kept me going through that long night. But when the child was finally born… Richard, she - "

"She? A girl?!" interrupted Richard, his voice filled with wonder and pride. At the sound of his awe and joy, Catherine began to cry, and he wished he had not spoken out of turn.

"She had a birthmark, Richard. Your birthmark – the one that runs in your family." She pushed fretfully at the tears as they ran down her cheeks, and swatted Richard's hands away when he tried to touch her, too overwhelmed for the moment, having not yet finished telling him everything.

"Where?" he asked.

Catherine took a shaky breath. "Above her lip on one side," she explained. "It ran up her cheek." She paused for a moment, her head bowed, tears falling onto the lap of her nightgown. "It was so conspicuous – anyone who knew you well enough would have known she was yours, especially Henry! I panicked." She gasped a sob, wiping at her face with her hands, her voice thick with emotion as she continued. "I – I told Nostredame to – to take the child, and - " she sobbed, crying freely now, "and fix her face."

Richard laid his hand on her knee. "Fix it? How?"

"I don't know! I didn't know! I just – he's the court surgeon. I don't know what I thought. I just thought if anyone could take the mark away, he could."

Richard could hardly bear it for her. He dared not even think of his child, and what became of her after that, but he did not blame Catherine for her choice. She was tormented enough by her decision, and he loved her too fiercely to think ill of her for any reason. He swallowed, steadying himself to ask the question he needed to ask.

"Catherine. What became of the child?"

She lifted her face, wet with tears. Her shoulders trembled, and her voice shook as she answered, but she did not look at Richard.

"Nostredame took her that very morning," she said. "I waited all these days – they seemed as though they stretched into months, and I had no way of contacting you with the storm and the flooding." Her tears began to fall again, and he took her hand, rubbing her fingers gently with his thumb. "I had no idea what was happening with the baby – Nostredame didn't send word."

"It's alright," Richard whispered, trying to reassure her.

"Then, this morning, he came." She went silent, her tears temporarily stemmed. "I knew. When I saw him without the child, I knew." She paused. "He told me that the baby had died of natural causes, and that he was very sorry."

"Oh Catherine. Oh my darling…" Richard wrapped his arm around her slender, still-trembling shoulders, pulling her into his embrace. She seemed wooden at first, unyielding to his efforts to comfort her, her breath coming fast and shallow as she fought within herself over something he could not understand. Then, as he kissed her soft hair and her tear-stained cheek, she melted into him. Sobs racked her body and he held her fast, as she clutched his shirt, burying her face into it to muffle her sounds. He wept too. Her grief was too much for him to bear, loving her as he did, and his child – their child… It was all such a shock.

"Richard," she wept, clinging to him, "I wish – I just keep thinking that, if I had only kept her here with me instead of sending her away! I could have enjoyed her for the few days that she lived, and the outcome would have been the same, except I would have loved her!"

"No, love. You can't think like that." She looked into his eyes at last, and Richard could see her fear. Her eyes widened in surprise at his tears. "I understand why you are dwelling on those thoughts, but Catherine, you didn't know. How could you have known any of this? You did what you thought best at the time."

Catherine's pain was evident in her eyes as she gazed into him. "Richard…" She sounded broken. "I'm so sorry. I know you must be angry with me…" She looked down at her lap. Richard took her by the shoulders, turning her to face him squarely.

"I am not." His voice was firm. "Your reasons were valid, and you had no-one to support you in your choices as you were giving birth! You must not think of yourself so badly, my love. I do not blame you, and I can't rest knowing that you are blaming yourself either. I love you!"

She relaxed, then, weeping more quietly, as though she was all but spent. Richard was sure that she must have been carrying anxiety about telling him all these days, and he was relieved for her that she could let go of that now. Letting go of their child, and the decisions she had made – that would take far longer, he thought to himself. He was determined to support her and love her to the best of his ability while she worked through her grief. He was more glad than ever that she was away from the castle, from Henry and from duty. She would have to return very soon, but this respite at least might afford her the space she needed to regain some strength to face the coming days and weeks.

He pulled her back against him, reclining on her bed, his arms around her holding her close. Kissing her forehead, he spoke softly.

"I have missed you so, Catherine – you have no idea how much! There seemed no point to anything without you at the castle. I nearly went mad for lack of your presence. Even Henry noticed."

Catherine's tears stopped flowing abruptly as she turned in his arms to see his face, worried by his words. Her voice was husky from crying as she asked him, "What did he say?!"

"Don't worry," Richard reassured her, "he suspected that I was lovesick, and I told him that I was pining for a lady who had not yet come to court – the same one that he thought was responsible for the notes and letters." Catherine sighed with relief, sniffling and settling back into his embrace, as Richard continued. "It was the perfect excuse in the end. I didn't have to hide my heartache, and eventually when I couldn't bear having no news of you after the storm passed, I told Henry that I needed to see if my lady was safe." He smiled at the memory. "You can't imagine my joy at being able to actually tell him the truth! He needn't know that the lady was you, of course." He kissed her hair and stroked it lovingly. "If I could have come to you sooner, I would have. I'm sorry I wasn't here when you needed me."

"It's alright. You couldn't have known what was happening, and with the storm… In any case, you're here now, and I didn't even expect you to come. I'm so grateful, Richard." She turned teary eyes up to his, and placed a kiss on his palm as he stroked her cheek.

"May I come to see you again tomorrow?"

"I don't know…" Catherine traced his knuckles and the shape of his fingers with her fingertips. "I do so want you – I need you by my side right now, but I – I just can't risk our being discovered."

Richard nodded, "I understand. You're wise to consider it so thoughtfully." He kissed her fingers, one by one. "I shall ride back to the castle tomorrow and report to Henry that my beloved is safe and that I hope she will be coming to court soon." He gave a short chuckle.

"My ladies and I will stay another day or two. I am recovering well, physically, but little longer to rest without the pressures of French court would do me good."

"Then I will leave you, my darling." He hesitated, and she looked up at him questioningly. "May I – can't I stay and hold you until you fall asleep, like we used to? I will let myself out, and wear my hood up so as not to be recognised. I just want to comfort you."

Catherine smiled up at him, nodding, her cheeks damp still, but her eyes brighter and more at peace. She settled into his arms, and he pulled the covers up, loving his lady until she slept, and leaving her with a kiss.