Katharine, The Virgin Widow - Plaidy Jean (книга регистрации .txt) 📗

“An insular people,” murmured Duque. “I pity our Infanta.”

“Why should you? Do you not carry orders from their Highnesses that she is to return to Spain?”

“I brought three documents with me. You have seen the first…that which commanded you to obey me in all matters concerning this affair. The second and third are for the eyes of the King. But he will not see the third until he has digested the second. Nor shall he know at this stage that it exists.”

“And the second?” asked Puebla.

“It demands the return of the hundred thousand crowns, the first half of the dowry, which has already been paid.”

“Do you wish to break the heart of the King of England?” demanded Ayala.

“He will not relish this, I know.”

“Relish it!” screamed Ayala. “The King loves those hundred thousand crowns more than he loved his son. You cannot deal him another blow—one so close on the other.”

“I shall do more. I shall demand those revenues which the Prince of Wales promised to his wife on the day of their marriage.”

“The King will never consent to that.”

“I shall then ask for the return of the Infanta to Spain.”

“With the spoils,” put in Ayala, laughing. “Not so bad—the dowry, one third of the revenues of Wales, Chester and Cornwall, and our Infanta, virginity intact. A pleasant little adventure for the Infanta, and a remunerative one for the Sovereigns. Ah, do you think the King of England will agree?”

“He will not like this, I know,” said Duque. “He will refuse, for I doubt not that he will never be induced to part with the money. Yet what alternative has he except to incur the displeasure of the Sovereigns of Spain? That is why the third document is of such great importance.”

“And this third document?” Puebla asked eagerly.

Duque looked once more over his shoulder. “The King has a second son,” he said quietly.

“Ah!” whispered Ayala.

“Dangerous!” Puebla put in. “He is her brother by marriage. Are we not told in Leviticus that a man is forbidden to marry his brother’s widow?”

“The Pope would give the dispensation. He gave it to Emanuel of Portugal when he married the Infanta Maria on the death of her sister Isabella.”

“That was the dead wife’s sister.”

“The situation is similar. There will be no difficulty if the Pope will give the necessary dispensation. And as it is said that the marriage was never consummated, that should simplify matters.”

“I should like to make sure on that point,” said Puebla. “It is important.” Ayala looked scornfully at the Jew. “Your lawyer’s mind boggles at unimportant details. Rest assured that if the Sovereigns want the dispensation they will get it. Spain is great enough to make sure of that.”

“At first I shall say nothing of this suggested marriage. I wish to alarm the King by demanding the return of the dowry and the transfer of the goods which the Infanta has inherited by her marriage. That will put him into a mood to agree to this second marriage—and it is the wish of the Sovereigns that it should take place.”

“I thought,” said Ayala, “that the Queen would have wished to have her daughter back.”

“She wishes it most fervently, but duty comes before her own personal desires as always. There is another matter. Her health has declined rapidly during the last months. You, who have not seen her for so long, would scarcely know her. I do not think Isabella of Castile is long for this world. She knows it, and she wishes to see her youngest daughter happily settled, with a crown in view, before she departs this life.”

“She need have no fear. Henry will agree to this marriage,” smiled Ayala. “It is the way out for him. He would never allow anyone to take one hundred thousand crowns from him.”

They had reached the gates of the Palace.

With Puebla on one side and Ayala on the other, Hernan Duque rode in; and shortly afterwards Puebla and Ayala presented him to the King, who was very ready to conduct him to a small chamber where they might discuss this matter of the Infanta’s future in private.

* * *

IN THE SECLUSION of Durham House, Katharine had no idea that her parents’ envoy had arrived in England with such important documents affecting her future.

She felt at peace, for she was certain that very soon now she would be preparing to make the journey back to Spain. In her apartments, the windows of which overlooked the Thames, she could almost believe she was back in Spain. Here she sat with three of her maids of honor, all of whom were dear to her, and they stitched at their embroidery as they would in their own country.

She could almost believe that at any moment there would be a summons for her to go to her mother’s apartment in this very palace, and that if she looked from the window she would not see the lively London river with its barges, its ferries, its watermen all shouting to each other in the English tongue, but the distant Sierras of Guadarrama or the crystal-clear waters of the Darro.

In the meantime she could live in Durham House as though she were in a Spanish Alcazar and wait for the summons to return home.

Maria de Rojas had grown even prettier in recent weeks. Maria was in love with an Englishman. Francesca de Carceres was only pretending to sew, because she hated to sit quietly and was not fond of the needle; she found life at Durham House irksome, longed for gaiety, and it was only the thought that soon they would be returning to Spain that made it possible for her to endure it. Maria de Salinas worked quietly. She too was happy because she believed they would soon be leaving for Spain.

Francesca, who could never contain her thoughts for long, suddenly burst out: “Maria de Rojas wishes to talk to Your Highness.”

Maria de Rojas flushed slightly, and Maria de Salinas said in her quiet way: “You should not hesitate. Her Highness will help you, I am sure.”

“What is this?” asked Katharine. “Come along, Maria, tell me.”

“She is in love,” cried Francesca.

“With Don Inigo?” Katharine asked.

Maria de Rojas flushed hotly. “Indeed no.”

“Ah, then it is with the Englishman,” said Katharine. “He returns your affection?”

“He does indeed, Highness.”

“And you wish to marry him?”

“I do, Highness; and his grandfather is willing that we should marry.”

“The consent of the King of England would be necessary,” said Katharine, “and of my parents.”

“Maria is thinking,” Maria de Salinas said, “that if Your Highness wrote to the King and Queen of Spain, telling them that the Earl of Derby is a great English nobleman and his grandson worthy of our Maria, they would readily give their consent.”

“And her dowry also,” put in Katharine. “You may depend upon it, Maria, that I shall write immediately to my parents and ask them to do what is necessary in the matter.”

“Your Highness is good to me,” murmured Maria gratefully. “But it will then be necessary to have the consent of the King of England as well.”

“That will easily be obtained,” answered Francesca, “if the Countess of Richmond is approached first. Her opinion carries more weight with the King of England than anyone else’s.”

“You must ask your lover to arrange the English side of the project,” said Katharine. “As for myself, I will write to my parents without delay.”

Maria de Rojas sank to her knees and taking Katharine’s hand kissed it dramatically.

Francesca laughed and Maria de Salinas smiled.

“What a wonderful thing it is to be in love,” cried Francesca. “How I wish it would happen to me! But there is one thing I should welcome more.”

“And that?” asked Katharine, although she already knew the answer.

“To return home, Highness. To leave this country and go home to Spain.”

“Ah yes,” sighed Katharine. “Which of us does not feel the same—except Maria, who has a very good reason for wishing to stay here. Prepare my writing table. I will write at once to my parents and ask for their consent.”