Kitty Howard/Francis Dereham to Ghost of a Rose by Blackmore's Night. Please review!

The valley green was so serene
In the middle ran a stream so blue...
A maiden fair, in despair, once had met her true love there and she told him...

Katherine Howard, known to many of her friends as Kitty, curtsied and hurried out of her Grandmother's study the moment she was allowed to. She had a grin splitting her face from ear to ear and, when the other girls in the household commented on it, she shrieked "I'm going to Court! I'm going to Court! I'm going to be a Maid of Honour to her Majesty!"

Twirling away down the corridor, she laughed out loud at the thought of the envy on the other girls' faces.

However, it was a forced laugh and, the moment she was alone, the grin vanished from her face as though it had been torn away. Picking up her skirts, she ran in search of the one person she would really miss from Lambeth.

Her beloved Francis Dereham.

She found him by the stables, talking to a number of the other pages and secretaries, but a touch to his sleeve soon pulled him away from them. He drew her back behind the barn and kissed her, alarmed when she didn't smile into his kisses as she always had before.

"Kathy? Kathy, darling, what is it?" Pulling away, Francis cupped his precious Kathy's chin in his hand, tilting her head up so that she was looking him in the eye.

Biting her lip, she glanced away. "I need to tell you something. Something that changes everything."

A weight lifted from Francis's shoulders as she spoke. She was almost making it easy for him.

"So do I, Kathy, to be honest. Come on; let's go down to the stream. We'll talk there."

She would say...
"Promise me , when you see, a white rose you'll think of me
I love you so,
Never let go,
I will be your ghost of a rose..."

The two of them strolled along the bank of the stream until they reached their tree; the tree under which they had kissed for the first time. It was there that Francis sank down to the ground, pulling Kitty with him. They sat, his arm around her waist, until, unable to bear the uncomfortable silence any longer, Kitty blurted her news out first.

"My Grandmother's sending me to Court! I'm to be a maid to Her Majesty Queen Anne when she comes from Cleves!"

"Then why aren't you happy? It's what you always wanted, isn't it? A place at Court?"

"Not if it means I have to leave you! Francis, I love you! I've only ever loved you! I'll miss you so much!" Suddenly, she threw herself against him, eyes wide and glistening with tears.

"Well…actually…Kathy, it's probably a good thing that you're going to Court…because…" The time had come. He was leaving in a fortnight. It was time to tell her.

"What?" Alert to the hesitation in his voice, Kitty sat up abruptly. "Francis, what's going on? Tell me! Tell me!"

"Your Grandmother is also sending me away. She wants me to go to Ireland. Administer the family lands there. Act as a steward of sorts. So I wouldn't be here anyway, even if you weren't going to Court."

At first, Francis wasn't sure if Kathy had understood what he'd said to her, but then she looked at him with such pain in her eyes that it almost broke his heart.

"So you're leaving? Leaving Lambeth? Leaving the country? Leaving me? You can't! You can't! I love you, Francis! I love you more than you will ever know. You can't just leave!"

Crying, she leaped up as though she would run from him, but when he followed and took her back into his arms, she clung to him as though she would never let him go.

"I have to. You know that, Kathy. But that doesn't mean we can't think of each other. You're my rose, my Tudor Rose. I'll always think of you. Always."

Her eyes believed in mysteries
She would lay amongst the leaves of amber
Her spirit wild, heart of a child, yet gentle still and quiet and mild and he loved her...

"Promise? Will you think of me every day? Every day as long as you live?"

She drew back from him and lay back on the dewy grass, the early morning sunshine peeping through the leaves on the tree above her and turning her luxurious chestnut hair the most delicious shade of amber. Looking down on her, Francis realised what a child she still was. She still loved and hated as passionately as a child. She still needed the reassurance of a child. She still believed in the mysteries of true love, just as a child did.

But she was hischild. His wildly innocent child. His Kathy. And, though he had never thought it possible, he loved her. Loved her almost more than life itself. If reassurance was what she needed, then he would give it to her.

Kneeling down and leaning over her to find her beautiful rosebud mouth with his, he whispered "Every day, Kathy. And every single time I see a rose. I promise."

Her answer was little more than a thread of sound, reaching his ears like the sweetest of music.

"Good. That means I'll be your ghost of a rose. And you'll be mine. Always."

"Always." he repeated, twining her hair around his hands and caressing it as he pressed his lips to hers, then rained passionate kisses down all over her face and hands, inhaling her scent for the last time.

When she would say...
"Promise me , when you see, a white rose you'll think of me
I love you so,
Never let go,
I will be your ghost of a rose..."

When all was done, she turned to run
Dancing to the setting sun as he watched her

At last, she sat up and pushed him away from her. "I'll have to go. People will be looking for me, Francis."

"Kathy…"he started, but she shook her head.

"Don't make this any harder than it already is. Please. Just remember your promise. I'm to be your ghost of a rose."

"Forever." he swore and she leaned in and brushed her lips against his in a final ghost of a caressing kiss before she rose and turned to run back to the house.

He watched her out of sight and a wave of anger suddenly overcame him as she vanished.

"Damn it! Damn it! Damn it all to Hell!"

Picking up broken branches, he flung them wildly in all directions, giving vent to his frustrations in the only way he could; with violence and curses.

And ever more he thought he saw
A glimpse of her upon the moors forever
He'd hear her say...

Three months later, Francis was staring vacantly out of the window of an Irish manor house when, for one brief second, he thought he saw her in the gardens below. It was her hair, her figure, her lithe movements.

He almost ran down from the room to join her, but then the girl, who had been picking flowers, turned. It wasn't Katherine. It wasn't his Kathy at all. It was just a girl who looked like her. A girl who had been picking roses for the dining table that evening. White roses.

It wasn't Katherine and all he, Francis, was left with were the memories. The memories of the halcyon days he had spent with her, his golden ghost of a rose.

"Promise me , when you see, a white rose you'll think of me
I love you so,
Never let go,
I will be your ghost of a rose..."