Ferdinand ignored such pleas. He had too many troubles of his own to think about his daughter’s chemises.

So the weeks passed.

Dr. Savage made little progress in Brussels; this was largely because of circumstances which were unknown to Henry. Since Isabella’s death there had arisen certain factions which were determined to oust Ferdinand from Castile; and at the Court of Brussels there were two rival factions from Spain, one working for Ferdinand, one for Philip, his son-in-law. The head of Philip’s faction was Juan Manuel, brother of Doña Elvira, who had worked for the Sovereigns when Isabella was alive because of his admiration for the Queen. He had never admired Ferdinand; and now that the Queen was dead he was determined to force him out of Castile by supporting his son-in-law, Philip. Ferdinand’s supporters were his ambassador to Brussels, Don Gutierre Gomez de Fuensalida, and Don Pedro de Ayala. Ayala, to whom Dr. Savage presented himself, was certainly not going to bring Philip and the doctor together, because an alliance between Philip and England would be to Ferdinand’s detriment.

Thus, although Ayala received Dr. Savage with a show of friendship, he was secretly working all the time to avoid bringing the doctor to Philip’s notice. Negotiations hung fire, and this was very irritating to the English King, who knew little of the intricacies of politics at the Brussels Court.

The delays did not endear his daughter-in-law to him, and as his rheumatism was growing gradually more painful he became more irascible than ever and quite indifferent to the hardship which Katharine was suffering.

Katharine began to pawn more and more of her jewels, and she knew that when the time came for them to be valued and handed over to the King, as part of her dowry, they would be very much depleted. But what could she do? Her household had to eat even if they had received no payment for many months.

The entire household was becoming fretful, and one day Katharine came upon Maria de Rojas sobbing in distress, so deep that it was some time before Katharine could understand what had happened.

At length the sad little story was wrung from Maria.

“I have had news that he has married someone else.”

“My poor Maria!” Katharine sought to comfort the forlorn maid of honor. “But since he could not remain faithful, surely he would have made a bad husband.”

“It was all the waiting,” cried Maria. “His family insisted. They believed we should never have the consent of the Sovereigns and that there would be no dowry. Why, only half of your own was paid, and consider the poverty in which your father allows you to live!”

Katharine sighed.

“Sometimes,” she said, “I wonder what will become of us all.”

Maria continued to weep.


* * *

IT WAS A FEW days later when Doña Elvira called Maria de Rojas to her.

Maria, who had been listless since she had heard the news of her lover’s marriage, was not apprehensive as she would ordinarily have been by a summons from Doña Elvira. She simply did not care. Whatever Doña Elvira did to her, she said to Maria de Salinas, whatever punishment she sought to inflict, she would not care. Nothing could hurt her now.

With Doña Elvira was her son, Iñigo, who looked sheepishly at Maria as she entered.

Maria ignored him.

“Ah, Maria,” said Doña Elvira smiling, “I have some good news for you.”

Maria lifted her leaden eyes to Elvira’s face, but she did not ask what the good news was.

“You poor girl!” went on Elvira. “If the Prince of Wales had not died, good matches would have been found for all of you. You must have suffered great anxiety as to your future.”

Maria was still silent.

“You however are going to be very fortunate. My son here wishes to marry you. His father and I are agreeable to this match. I see no reason to delay.”

Maria spoke then, recklessly, for the first time in her life not caring what Doña Elvira could do to her: “I do not wish to marry your son, Doña Elvira,” she said.

“What!” screeched the duenna. “Do you realize what you are saying?”

“I am perfectly aware of what I am saying. I mean it. I wished to marry but was prevented from doing so. Now I do not wish to marry.”

“You wished to marry!” cried Elvira. “You persuaded the Infanta to plead with the Sovereigns for their consent and a dowry. And what happened, eh? Did you get that consent? I have seen no dowry.”

Elvira was smiling so malevolently that Maria suddenly understood. Did not Elvira see all the letters which were dispatched to the Sovereigns? Katharine must have realized this, because that last letter she wrote—and she must have written it at the very time when Isabella lay dying—was to have been delivered by a secret messenger, which meant, of course, that it should not pass through Elvira’s hands.

Maria knew then that this woman had wrecked her hopes of happiness; she hated her, and made no attempt to control her emotion.

“So it was you,” she cried. “You have done this. They would have given what I asked. I should have married by now, but you…you…”

“I fear,” said Doña Elvira quietly, “that this cannot be Maria de Rojas, maid of honor to the Infanta. It must be some gipsy hoyden who looks like her.”

Iñigo was looking at Maria with big pleading eyes; his look was tender and he was imploring her: Maria be calm. Have you forgotten that this is my mother, whom everyone has to obey?

Maria gave him a scornful look and cried out in anguish: “How could you do this, you wicked woman? I hate you. I tell you I hate you and will never marry your stupid son.”

Doña Elvira, genuinely shocked, gripped Maria by the shoulders and forced her on to her knees. She took her long dark hair and, pulling it, jerked the girl’s head backwards.

“You insolent little fool,” she hissed. “I will show you what happens to those who defy me.” She turned to Iñigo. “Do not stand there staring. Go and get help. Call my servant. Tell them to come here at once.”

She shook Maria, whose sobs were now choking her and, when her servants came, Doña Elvira cried: “Take this girl into the anteroom. Lock the door on her. I will decide what is to be done with her.”

They carried the sobbing Maria away, and Elvira, her mouth firm, her eyes glittering, said to her son: “Have no fear. The girl shall be your wife. I know how to make her obedient.”

Iñigo was shaken. It had hurt him to see Maria so ill treated. He was certain that she would be his wife, because his mother had said she would, and whatever Doña Elvira decreed came to pass.


* * *

KATHARINE WAS deeply disturbed by what had happened to Maria de Rojas. Doña Elvira had kept her locked away from the other maids of honor, and they all knew that Doña Elvira was determined that Maria should be forced to accept Iñigo as her betrothed.

Katharine considered this matter and asked herself why she allowed her household to be dominated by Doña Elvira. Was she herself not its head?

She remembered her parting from her mother. She could almost hear that firm voice warning her: “Obey Doña Elvira in all things, my dearest. She is a strong woman and a wise one. Sometime she may seem harsh, but all that she does will be for your good. Always remember that I trust her and I chose her to be your duenna.”

Because of that Katharine had always sought to obey Doña Elvira, and whenever she had felt tempted to do otherwise she remembered her mother’s words. But what duplicity Elvira had used in not allowing Katharine’s requests on Maria’s behalf to reach Isabella!

Katharine asked Elvira to come to her apartment and, as soon as the duenna entered, saw that her mouth was set and determined and that she was going to do fierce battle in this matter of Maria’s marriage.

“You have removed my maid of honor from my service,” Katharine began.

“Because, Highness, she has behaved in a most undignified manner, a manner of which your dear mother would heartily disapprove.”

That was true. If Maria had sobbed and wept and declared her hatred of Elvira, as Katharine had heard she had, Isabella would certainly have disapproved.

“Doña Elvira, I wrote some letters to my mother and I believe she never received them.”

“Storms at sea,” murmured Elvira. “It invariably happens that some letters do not reach their destination. If I wish to send important news I send two couriers, and not together. Did you take this precaution?”

Katharine looked boldly into the face of her duenna. “I believe these letters never left this house.”

“That is an accusation, Highness.”

“I meant it to be.”

“Your mother put me in charge of your household, Highness. I never forget that. If I believe that I should sometimes act boldly on any matter, I do so.”

“Even to destroying letters which were meant for my mother?”

“Even to that, Highness.”

“So you were determined that Maria should marry Iñigo, and not the man of her choice.”

“Indeed that is so, Highness. She wished to marry an Englishman. There are many matters which are hidden from Your Highness. It is only seemly that it should be so. Your mother instructed me that I must be careful of those who would spy against you. I must not too readily trust the English. What an excellent opportunity for spying an Englishman would have if he were married to one of your own maids of honor!”

“But this was not a case of spying. They loved…”

“So dearly did he love her that he married someone else…not so long after plighting his troth to her.”