Katharine, The Virgin Widow - Plaidy Jean (книга регистрации .txt) 📗
It was true, a storm was rising. The hazards of the sea were all about her. What if she should never reach England?
She gripped the rail and thought of Isabella and Juan, both of whom had finished with earthly trials. How long would it be before her mother joined them?
Such thoughts were wicked. She, not yet sixteen, to long for death!
Only in that moment had she realized the depth of her fear.
This is cowardice, she told herself sharply. How do I know what awaits me in England?
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SICK FROM THE ROCKING of the ship, cold and drenched with sea water, Katharine stood on deck watching the land which grew more and more distinct as she stood there.
England! The land in which she was destined to be Queen.
Elvira was at her side. “Highness, you should prepare yourself to meet the King.”
“Do you think he will be at Plymouth to greet me?”
“Surely he will, and the Prince with him. Come! We must make you ready to receive them.”
They went to her cabin where her maids of honor clustered round her. All so much prettier than I, she thought; and she imagined Arthur, looking at them and being disappointed because she was the Infanta and his bride.
“We are far from London,” said Elvira. “I have heard that the journey to the capital will last three weeks.”
Katharine thought: Three weeks! What did it matter what discomfort she had to endure if it meant postponing the ceremony for three weeks!
When she was ready to go on deck the ship already lay at anchor. A beautiful sight met her eyes; the sun had come out and was discovering brilliants on the blue water. Stretched before her was the lovely coast of Devon, the grass of which was greener than any she had ever seen; and the gorse was golden.
Before her was Plymouth Hoe, and she saw that many people had gathered there and that they carried banners on which were the words—she knew little English but they were translated for her: “Welcome to the Princess of Wales!” “God bless the Infanta of Spain!”
There was the sound of cheering as she came on deck with her ladies, and she found that her spirits were lifted. Then she heard the bells ringing out and she saw a small boat approaching the ship; in it was a company of splendidly dressed men.
The English pilot who had brought them safely to England came to Katharine’s side and bowing to the veiled figure said: “Your Highness, you are safe from the sea. This is Plymouth Sound and the people of Devon are eager to show you how glad they are to have you with them. Here come the Mayor and his aldermen to give you formal welcome.”
She turned to an interpreter who stood beside her and told him to ask whether the King and Prince of Wales were in Plymouth.
“I doubt they could make the journey to Plymouth, Your Highness,” was the answer. “We are three weeks’ journey from London. But they will have sent orders that all are to welcome you right royally until they can do so themselves.”
She had a feeling that this was an apology for the absence of his King and Prince. It need not have been made to her. She was relieved that she could have a little respite before she met them.
She received the Mayor and his aldermen as graciously as even her mother could have wished.
“Tell them I am happy to be with them,” she said. “I am grateful that I have escaped the perils of the sea. I see a church steeple there. I would first like to go to church and give thanks for my safe arrival.”
“It shall be as Her Highness commands,” was the Mayor’s answer.
Then Katharine came ashore and the people of Plymouth crowded about her.
“Why,” they said, “she is naught but a child.” For although her face was veiled there was no doubt that she was young, and there was many a mother in the crowd who wiped her eyes to think of a young girl’s leaving her home and going to a strange land.
How brave she was! She gave no sign of her disquiet. “She’s a Princess,” they said, “every inch a Princess. God bless her.”
Thus Katharine of Aragon rode through the streets of Plymouth to give thanks for her safe arrival in England and to pray that she might give no offence to the people of her new country, but please them in every way.
Her spirits rose a little as she went through those streets in which the tang of the sea was evident. She smiled at the fresh faces which pressed forward to glimpse her. Their free and easy manners were strange to her; but they were showing her that they were pleased to see her, and that gave infinite comfort to a lonely girl.
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THE JOURNEY TOWARDS LONDON had begun; it was inevitably a slow one, for the people of England had been commanded by their King to show a hearty welcome to the Princess from Spain. They needed no such injunctions; they were ever ready to accept an excuse for gaiety.
In the villages and towns through which the cavalcade passed the people halted its progress. The Princess must see their folk dances, must admire the floral decorations and the bonfires which were all in her honor.
They were attracted by this quiet Princess. She was such a child, such a shy, dignified young girl.
It was a pleasant journey indeed from Plymouth to Exeter, and Katharine was astonished by the warmth and brilliance of the sun. She had been told to expect mists and fog, but this was as pleasant as the Spanish sunshine; and never before had she seen such cool green grass.
At Exeter the nature of the journey changed. In that noble city she found more ceremony awaiting her than she had received in Plymouth, and she realized that thus it would be as she drew nearer to the capital.
Waiting to receive her was Lord Willoughby de Broke, who told her that he was High Steward of the King’s household and that it was the express command of His Majesty that all should be done for her comfort.
She assured him that nothing more could be done for her than had been done already; but he bowed and smiled gravely as though he believed she could have no notion of the extent of English hospitality.
Now about her lodgings were ranged the men at arms and yeomen, all in the royal green and white liveries—and a pleasant sight they were.
She made the acquaintance of her father’s ambassador to England and Scotland, Don Pedro de Ayala, an amusing and very witty man, whose stay in England seemed to have robbed him of his Spanish dignity. There was also Dr. de Puebla, a man whom she had been most anxious to meet because Ferdinand had warned her that if she had any secret matter to impart to him she might do it through Puebla.
Both these men, she realized, were to some extent her father’s spies, as most ambassadors were for their own countries. And how different were these two: Don Pedro de Ayala was an aristocrat who had received the title of Bishop of the Canaries. Handsome, elegant, he knew how to charm Katharine with his courtly manners. Puebla was of humble origin, a lawyer who had reached his present position through his own ingenuity. He was highly educated and despised all those who were not; and Ayala he put into this category, for the Bishop had spent his youth in riotous living and, since he came of a noble family, had not thought it necessary to achieve scholarship.
Puebla’s manner was a little sullen, for he told himself that if all had gone as he had wished he should have greeted the Infanta without the help of Ayala. As for Ayala, he was fully aware of Puebla’s feelings towards him and did everything he could to aggravate them.
As they left Exeter, Don Pedro de Ayala rode beside Katharine, and Lord Willoughby de Broke was on her other side, while Puebla was jostled into the background and fumed with rage because of this.
Ayala talked to Katharine in rapid Castilian which he knew Willoughby de Broke could not understand.
