Luiza let her hand rest on her daughter’s shoulder.

“Little daughter,” she said tenderly, “you are happy, are you not? You are happy because there is now every likelihood that this marriage will come to pass?”

Catherine shivered. “Happy, dearest mother? I think so. But I am not sure. Sometimes I am a little frightened. I know that Charles is the most charming King in the world, and the kindest, but all my life I have been near you, able to come to you when I was in any difficulty. I am happy, yes. I am excited. But sometimes I am so terrified that I almost hope the arrangements will not be completed after all.”

“It is natural that you should feel so, Catalina, my dearest child. Everything you feel is natural. And however kind your husband is to you and however happy you are, you will sometimes long for your home in Lisbon.”

Catherine buried her face in the serge farthingale. “Dearest mother, how can I ever be completely happy away from you?”

“You will learn in time to give all your devotion to your husband and the children you will have. We shall regularly exchange letters, you and I. Perhaps there may be visits between us. But they would be infrequent; that is the fate of royal mothers and daughters.”

“I know. But Mother, do you think in the whole world there was ever such a happy family as ours has been?”

“It is given to few to know such happiness, it is true. Your father was deeply conscious of that. He would have lived peacefully in the Villa Viçosa and shut his eyes to his duty for the sake of the happiness he could have had with us. But he was a king, and kings, queens and princesses have their duties. They must not be forgotten for the sake of quiet family happiness.”

“No, Mother.”

“Your father agreed on that before he died. He lived nobly, and that is the way in which we must live. My dearest Catherine, it is not only that you will be marrying a very attractive King who will be a good husband to you, you will be making the best possible marriage for the sake of your country. England is one of the most important countries in Europe. You know our position. You know that our enemies, the Spaniards, are ever ready to snatch from us that which we have won. They will be less inclined to attack us if they know that our family is united in marriage with the royal family of England, that we are no longer alone, that we have a powerful ally at our side.”

“Yes, Mother.”

“So it is for the sake of Portugal that you will go to England; it is for your country’s sake that you will do there all that is expected of a queen.”

“I will do my best, dear Mother.”

“That brings me to one little matter with which I must acquaint you. The King is a young man who will soon be thirty-two years of age. Most men marry before they reach that age. The King is strong, healthy and fond of gay company. It is unnatural for such a man to live alone until he reaches that age.”

“To live alone, Mother?” said Catherine, puzzled.

“To live unmarried. He, like you, could only marry one who was royal, and therefore suitable to his state. It would have been unwise for him to marry while in exile. So … he consoled himself with one who cannot be his wife. He had a mistress.”

“Yes, Mother,” said Catherine. “I think I understand.”

“It is the way of most men,” said Luiza. “There is nothing unusual in this.”

“You mean there is a woman whom he loves as a wife?” “Exactly.”

“And that when he has a wife in truth he will no longer need her? She will not be very pleased to see me in England, will she?”

“No. But her feelings are of no account. It is the King’s which are all important. He might dismiss his mistress when he takes a wife, but it has come to my ears that there is one lady to whom he is deeply attached.”

“Oh …” breathed Catherine.

“You will not see her, for naturally he will not let her enter your presence, and you must avoid all mention of her. And eventually the King will cease to require her, and she will quietly disappear. Her name is Lady Castlemaine, and all you have to do is avoid mentioning her name to anyone—anyone whatsoever—and foremost of all to the King. It would be a grave breach of etiquette. If you hear rumors of her, ignore them. It is a very simple matter really. Many queens have found themselves similarly placed.”

“Lady Castlemaine,” repeated Catherine; then she suddenly stood up and threw herself into her mother’s arms. She was shivering violently, and Luiza could not soothe her for some time.

“There is nothing to fear, dearest,” she murmured again and again. “Little daughter, it happens to so many. All will be well. In time he will love you … only you, for you will be his wife.”

Every day the arrival of the Earl of Sandwich was expected. He was to come to Lisbon with ships so that he might conduct Catherine and her entourage to England.

Still he did not come.

Catherine, bewildered by the sudden change the last months had brought, wondered whether he ever would. She had not left the Palace more than ten times in the whole of her life, so determined had her mother been to keep her away from the world. Exercise had been taken in the Palace gardens and never had she been allowed to leave her duenna; now that she was Queen of England—for she had been proclaimed as such since the marriage treaty had been ratified in Lisbon—she had left the Palace on several occasions. It had been strange to ride out into the steep streets, to hear the loyal shouts of the people and to bow and smile as she had been taught. “Long life to the Queen of England!” they shouted. She was now allowed to visit churches, where she prayed to the saints that her marriage might be fruitful, and that long prosperity might come to the sister countries of Portugal and England.

When she was alone she took out the miniature which had been brought to her by Sir Richard Fanshawe who was in Portugal to help further the match, and she would feel that she already knew the man pictured there. He was as dark and swarthy as her own brothers, so that she felt he was no foreign prince; his features were heavy, but his eyes were so kindly. She thought of him as the man who had offered his life for the sake of his father and, although she was frightened of leaving her home and her mother, although she was fearfully perplexed at the thought of a woman named Lady Castlemaine, she longed to meet her husband face to face.

But still the Earl of Sandwich did not come.

Luiza, anxiously awaiting the arrival of the Earl, began to be afraid. This marriage with England meant so much to her. If it should fall through she could see that the honor and comparative security, which she and her husband had won for Portugal during the long years of endurance, might be lost.

The Spaniards were doing all in their power to prevent the marriage; that in itself showed how important it was. Already they were massing on the frontiers, ready for an attack, and she, being obliged to raise forces without delay, had been hard put to it to find the money to do this, so that it had been necessary to use some of that which she had set aside for her daughter’s dowry—that very dowry which had made Catherine so attractive to the English King. The thought of what she would do when the time came for Catherine’s embarkation and the handing over of the dowry gave her many a sleepless night; but she was a woman of strong character who had faced so many seemingly insurmountable difficulties in her life that she had learned to deal only with those which needed immediate attention, and trust in good fortune to help her overcome the others when it was absolutely necessary to do so.

There was another matter which gave her grave concern. She was sending her daughter into a strange country to a man she had never seen, without even the security of marriage by proxy.

“I send you my daughter the Infanta, unmarried,” she had written, “that you may see what confidence I have in your honor.”

But she doubted whether that would deceive the King of England and his ministers. They would know that the Papal See, which was still the vassal of Spain, had never acknowledged Catherine as the daughter of a king; the Pope, when he gave the dispensation for the Infanta to marry a prince of the Reformed Faith—and the marriage could not be performed in Portugal without such a dispensation—would give her title not as Infanta of the Royal House of Portugal, but merely as the daughter of the Duke of Braganza. And that, Luiza felt, was a greater shame than any which could befall her.

So she, a determined woman grappling with many problems, had decided to act boldly. But if the Earl of Sandwich did not come soon, the Spaniards would be marching on Lisbon.

So each day she waited, but in vain.

Had the English learned that she could not find the money for the dowry? How could she know what spies there were in her Court? The Spaniards were cunning; they had been conquerors for a long time; and she was a poor Queen fighting a lonely battle for the independence of her country and the glory of her royal house.

Soon news came to her. The Spaniards were on the march. They were forging ahead towards the unfortified towns on the Portuguese seaboard.

Luiza was in despair. This attack was to be stronger than any the Spaniards had ever launched against their neighbors. Their aim was to see that, by the time the King of England’s ambassadors came to claim the daughter of the royal house of Portugal, there would be no royal house. They were throwing great forces into the struggle; forever since the defeat of their “invincible” Armada in the reign of the great Elizabeth, the Spaniards had held the English in dread, and it was their endeavor to prevent at all costs the alliance between little Portugal and that country whose seamen they feared beyond any mortal beings.