Maybe she'd decided to go looking for him. Huffing under his breath, the Doctor headed back towards the traveling players, hoping rather desperately to find his wayward companion before she got herself into any trouble.
Rose made her way back to the garden, just missing seeing the Doctor turn and stride off in another direction. She found Catherine seated daintily on a small stone bench, demurely petting the kitten, yards and yards of heavy brocade skirts settled neatly around her.
"That's a beautiful dress," Rose remarked, wondering how on Earth Catherine could stand to wear all that. The sleeves alone looked to have almost as much material as a winter coat. She passed the other girl the plate of cakes and sank gratefully onto the grass, happy to be able to move so freely.
"It was made over from one of my cousin's, but the trim was a gift when I joined the royal household," Catherine told her. "It did turn out rather nice, though." Grinning, she slid down off the bench to sit on the grass, a move that Rose suspected would not be considered quite proper behavior for a lady.
"Less chance of being seen," Catherine muttered.
"Why'd you want to hide?" Rose asked curiously. "I mean, if you're meant to be with the Queen an' all?"
"It's so boring and stuffy up there! Everyone's older than me, and all they do is sit around and play cards and do needlework all day. What about you? If you don't work at the palace, how did you come to be here?"
"Like I said, I'm travelin.' We just happened to end up here."
"'We?'"
"The Doctor an' me. He was meanin' to take me to see a play, but he got a bit turned around. Happens a lot, actually."
"Doctor? A physician, then?" Catherine asked.
"Sort of."
"And are you and he…?"
"No!" Rose exclaimed. "I mean…sometimes…I'm not sure, exactly," she finished up lamely.
Catherine gave her a knowing little smile, cuddling the kitten under her chin. "It must be nice. To have the freedom to choose, I mean."
"Don't you?" Rose asked curiously.
"Heavens, no. I'm a Howard; I do what the family tells me. But every time a man glances at me, I never know if he's seeing me, or the family." She selected a cake and nibbled it absently. "This Doctor that you travel with, was he your choice, or your family's?"
"Mine. My Mum's not too keen on him." Rose stifled a giggle, recalling a certain slap, and its aftermath.
"And does he care for you?"
"Yes," Rose replied, instantly and emphatically.
Catherine smiled wistfully.
"But if you could choose…if you could do anything you want…what would it be?" Rose asked softly.
"I'd like to marry a man of my own age, or at least, my own choosing. Someone who just loved…me."
"But couldn't you just…I dunno…run off? If you actually met the someone and fell in love an' all that?"
"Not so simple when you're part of the royal household. And besides, how would we live? We're poor by the family's standards, but still, I've never had to do things, and I'm not at all clever."
"Is there someone?" Rose asked gently.
Catherine smiled with an eager gleam in her eye. "One of the King's gentlemen, Thomas Culpeper."
"What's he like, then?"
"Dashing. Handsome…really handsome."
"An' does he like you, too?"
"I think so. I hope so. It's just…even if he didn't feel exactly the same about me, I don't want to be married off to someone twice my age, just because it's good for the family."
"Hasn't there ever been anyone that you chose for yourself?"
"Once, sort of, when I lived in my grandmother's household, but then I was placed here, and everything changed. His name was Francis," Catherine confided with a wicked little smirk.
"Rose! There you are!" the Doctor exclaimed in relief, coming around the low stone wall.
"That's him?" Catherine whispered to Rose.
"Yeah. Lookin' out for me, as usual." Rose waved cheerfully as she scrambled to her feet.
"Come on, Rose, we really need to be going," the Doctor said briskly, glancing back over his shoulder and seeing a group of richly garbed gentlemen headed their way.
"Aren't you going to introduce me?" Catherine asked mischievously.
"Doctor, this is Lady Catherine Howard. Lady Catherine, the Doctor."
A strange expression crossed the Doctor's face as he looked down at the young girl seated on the grass. "But thy eternal summer shall not fade…" he said quietly.
"Poetry," Catherine said, with a sidewise glance at Rose. "You speak very well for an itinerant physician."
"Rose, we really need to be -"
"Lady Catherine!" a deep voice boomed. "We are delighted to find you here."
The Doctor quickly dropped to one knee, catching Rose's sleeve and dragging her down with him.
"Your Majesty," Catherine murmured, bowing her head demurely.
"Culpeper, assist the Lady."
A handsome, richly dressed young man stepped forward and carefully helped Catherine to her feet.
"And who is your charming little pet?" the King asked, indicating the black and white kitten that Catherine still held.
"I thought to call him Domino, your Majesty," Catherine said softly. "If I am allowed to keep him, that is."
"Of course you may," the King said genially. "Such a little thing to bring such a smile to the face of so lovely a lady. Such a radiant English rose, is she not, gentlemen? A rose without a thorn. Dismiss your maid and manservant and walk with us," the King instructed.
Catherine flicked her hand at Rose and the Doctor dismissively. Her eyes caught Rose's for just a moment though, and something in her glance reminded Rose of a small animal, caught in a trap.
"Doctor?" Rose asked with a sudden foreboding. "What's going to happen to her?"
"Let's get home," the Doctor replied, taking her hand. The grip of his hand was as comforting as ever, but there was a grim set to his mouth that added to her unease.
The Doctor found Rose in the library, a ponderous volume on the kings and queens of England balanced open on her lap.
"So, she died. She was younger than me, and she died."
"Yes. I'm sorry, Rose, but she did."
"But that's not fair!" Rose said brokenly, tears starting to leak from her eyes as she shut the book and pushed it away. "I mean, sure, she was a bit silly and boy crazy, but that's not a good enough reason to kill her!"
"No, it isn't," the Doctor agreed.
"All she wanted was to be in love. Is that so wrong?"
"'Course not. It's what makes you human."
"We've got a time machine. Couldn't we…?"
"No, Rose," the Doctor said firmly. "Catherine Howard's death is part of a very complex web of historical events. Touch one thing and it could all topple. It has to happen." He slipped his arm around Rose's shoulders, pulling her close.
"Reapers," Rose mumbled.
"Yeah, reapers. But also, Rose, just think of what comes next! Shakespeare, the great age of exploration, Elizabeth I…"
"Still not fair…"
He gently tipped her face up. "Look at me, Rose. It's like we were talkin' about before, about your dad, remember? Well, Catherine's like that, too. You remember her, as a person, not just a name in a history book, so she'll always live on, in your memory."
"S'not the same, and you know it." Rose's face crumpled and she pounded her fist against his leather-jacketed chest as she sobbed.
"No, I suppose it's not," the Doctor admitted regretfully. Not to Rose. A nine-hundred year old Time Lord might take these things in stride, but all she could see was a girl of her own age who'd been denied the life she wanted, and died far too young. He wrapped his other arm around her and held her tightly, weathering the storm. It was so human - so Rose - to latch onto someone, somewhen, whose death was a necessary part of history and want to save her. It ate at his soul, too, truth be told.
The Doctor only hoped that he'd never find himself facing a moment when the universe dictated the sacrifice of the girl in his arms. He wasn't at all sure that he wouldn't just let the rest of creation go to hell, rather than lose her.
Author's notes: Where did this one come from? Well, a couple of weeks ago, we got in a book at work, a novel about Catherine Howard. The girl in the cover art looked a bit like Billie Piper, which got me to thinking how Rose and Catherine Howard were about the same age…and the rest, as they say…
The quotes are from Shakespeare's Sonnet 18.