Katharine, The Virgin Widow - Plaidy Jean (книга регистрации .txt) 📗
“He must accept it,” said Puebla. “It was part of the marriage treaty.”
“But Don Gutierre says that the Council refuse to admit this.”
“Then they must be made to admit it. I fear he has offended the Council with his quick temper and high-handed manners. He forgets that he is in England; and he will never bring matters to a satisfactory conclusion if he is going to offend the people whom it is necessary to placate.”
“You think that they can be made to accept the plate and jewels?”
“I am sure they will. But the jewels and plate are much depleted, I believe.”
“I have found it necessary to have some money to live, and I have pawned or sold a considerable amount of the plate and jewels.”
“Highness, if your father will make up the discrepancy I feel sure we can come to an arrangement with the King.”
“Then you must see Fuensalida and make him understand this.”
“I will. And Your Highness should have no fear. The King will wish to come to this arrangement. He is eager for a match between your nephew, Charles, and the Princess Mary. He is even more eager to enter into marriage with your sister, Her Highness Queen Juana. I believe that a little diplomacy will settle these matters amicably.”
“Then I pray you go to Fuensalida with all speed. And, Dr. de Puebla, I am concerned for your health. I am going to send my physician to see you. You must act on his advice.”
“Your Highness is gracious,” murmured Puebla.
He felt resigned. He knew that Fuensalida was the last man to handle this delicate situation with the right amount of tact and shrewdness. He knew also that when Katharine’s physician saw him, he would be told to keep to his bed. That he knew was tantamount to receiving his death warrant.
* * *
KATHARINE WAS FRUSTRATED. She was aware the King disliked the Spanish ambassador and made continual excuses not to grant the interviews he asked.
Puebla, who alone might have made some progress now that Ferdinand really seemed desirous of settling his daughter’s affairs, had now taken to his bed. Too late Fuensalida learned how useful the little man could be.
The matter dragged on. Henry, who was beginning to see that he would never get Juana, was growing angry. He did not trust Ferdinand. Henry was becoming increasingly difficult to deal with because he was now in acute pain and the calmness which had been characteristic of him was deserting him. His skin was turning yellow and he was rapidly losing weight. There were whole days when he was invisible to any but his doctors.
Katharine was so eagerly watching the progress of her own affairs that she failed to notice the change in one of her maids of honor. Francesca had seemed to grow younger; she had come into possession of some beautiful pieces of jewellery. She did not flaunt these before the eyes of the others, it was true, but on one occasion when Maria de Rojas had called attention to a handsome ruby ring which she was wearing, Francesca had shrugged her shoulders, murmured, “Have you not seen it before?” and hastily changed the subject.
Francesca was the only member of the Infanta’s household who was not depressed by the way things were going; each day she contrived to slip away, and remained absent for several hours.
Fuensalida was making himself unpleasant to various members of the Infanta’s household. He had quarrelled with Puebla many times, and only the little man’s humility and desire to bring about a successful solution of the troublesome matter of the dowry made their association possible. His chief enemy in the household was Fray Diego Fernandez, who was Katharine’s confessor and whose position gave him especial influence over her. This friar seemed to Fuensalida an arrogant young man because he did not show sufficient respect to the ambassador, and he had threatened to write to Ferdinand to the effect that Fernandez was not only incompetent but dangerous, as the Infanta placed too much trust in him.
Katharine was desperate, realizing that when she needed as much support as she could get, her affairs were continually being obstructed by strife within her own circle.
One day Fernandez came to her in a state of great indignation. He had had a narrow escape, he told her. Fuensalida had made an attempt to have him arrested and shipped out of the country.
Katharine was angry, but there was nothing she could do. Puebla was confined to his bed and clearly was dying; now she reproached herself for not appreciating that little man before. It was only now that she could compare him with Fuensalida that she realized how admirable he had been. She could not ask her father to recall Fuensalida and send her another ambassador. The situation was too involved and, by the time a new man arrived, who could say what might have happened?
So she prayed constantly that her ill luck would change and that soon her affairs might be put in order.
* * *
WHAT JOY IT WAS to escape to the house of the Genoese banker! thought Francesca. How merry that man was, and how delighted that Francesca de Carceres should deign to visit him. It was true, of course, that she was of a most noble family and he was merely a banker; but how much more extravagantly he lived, and what great comfort he enjoyed!
She could not recall how many times she had been to his house, ostensibly to visit the ambassador, and how she arranged her visits to fall at those times when she knew Fuensalida would not be present.
She had meant to implore him to do something for Katharine’s maids of honor, who should have marriages arranged for them, but she had found no opportunity of speaking of this matter to the ambassador.
There was so much of interest to see in the house, and her banker delighted in showing her. She had only to admire something, and he implored her to accept it. He was surely the most generous man in the world!
So it was fun to slip on her cloak and hasten to his lodgings.
On this occasion he was waiting for her, and he seemed more serious; as it was unusual to see him serious, she wondered what had happened.
They took wine together with some of those excellent cakes which his cooks made especially for her, and as they sat together he said suddenly: “How strange that I should be Francesco, and you Francesca. It seems yet another link between us.”
“Yes,” she smiled, “it is certainly strange.”
Then he became even more serious and said: “How long can this continue?”
“You mean my visits? Oh, until the Court moves, or until I am discovered and forbidden to come.”
“That would stop you…if you were forbidden?”
“I might be tempted to disobey.”
He leaned towards her and took one of her hands. “Francesca,” he said, “would you consider becoming mistress of this house?”
She grew a little pale, realizing the enormity of what he was suggesting. She…marry him! But her marriage was one which would have to be approved by the Infanta, by the Queen of Castile or by Ferdinand, and by the King of England. Did he not understand that she was not a little seamstress or some such creature to make a match on the spur of the moment?
“The suggestion is repulsive to you?” he said wistfully.
“No…no!” She was emphatic. She was thinking of how dull her life had been before these visits; and how it would seem even more dull if she were forced to give them up. She went on: “Marriages are arranged for people in my position. I should never be allowed to marry you.”
“You have been neglected,” he argued. “To whom do you owe loyalty? As for myself, I am no subject of the King of England. If I wish to marry, I marry. If you decided you did not want to go back to the palace one day, I would have a priest here who should marry us. I would place all my possessions and myself at your service. I love you, Francesca. You are young, you are beautiful, you are of noble birth, but you are a prisoner; and the only one of these attributes which can remain to you is your noble birth. Francesca, do not allow them to bury you alive. Marry me. Have we not been happy together? I will make you happy for the rest of your life.”
