Arthur always felt that it was his fault that he had not been born strong. He tried to smile and look as though there was nothing he enjoyed so much as a ride in the rain.

When they were within a few miles of the Bishop’s Palace the King saw a rider galloping towards his party, and in a very short time he recognized the Spanish Ambassador Ayala.

Ayala drew up before Henry and sweeping off his hat bowed gracefully.

“News has been brought to me that Your Grace is on the way to see the Infanta.”

“That news is now confirmed,” answered the King. “So impatient was our young bridegroom that, having heard that the Infanta was at Dogmersfield, he could wait no longer. He himself has come hot-foot from Wales. He yearns to see his bride.”

Arthur tried to force his wet face into an expression which would confirm his father’s words as the Spanish Ambassador threw a sly smile in his direction which clearly conveyed his knowledge of the boy’s nervousness.

“Alas,” said Ayala, “Your Grace will be unable to see the bride.”

“I…unable to see the bride!” said the King in a cold, quiet voice.

“The King and Queen of Spain insist that their daughter should observe the customs of a high-born Spanish lady. She will be veiled until after the ceremony, and not even her bridegroom may see her face until then.”

The King was silent. A terrible suspicion had come into his mind; he was the most suspicious of men. Why should he not look on the face of the Infanta? What had the Spanish Sovereigns to hide? Was this some deformed creature they were sending him? “Not until after the ceremony.” The words sounded ominous.

“This seems a strange condition,” said Henry slowly.

“Sire, it is a Spanish custom.”

“I like it not.”

He turned his head slightly and said over his shoulder: “We will form a council, my lords. Here is an urgent matter to discuss. Ambassador, you will excuse us. It will take us but a short time to come to a decision, I imagine.”

Ayala bowed his head and drew his horse to the side of the road while the King waved a hand towards a nearby field.

“Come with us, Arthur,” he said. “You must join our council.”

Henry placed himself and his son in the center of the field and his followers ranged themselves about him. Then he addressed them:

“I like this not. I am denied admittance to my son’s bride although she is in my territory. I would not wish to go against the law in this matter. Therefore, the council must decide what should be done. The Infanta has been married to the Prince by proxy. What we must decide is whether she is now my subject; and, if she is my subject, what law could prevent my seeing her if I wished. I pray you, gentlemen, consider this matter, but make it quick for the rain shows no sign of abating and we shall be wet to the skin by the time we reach Dogmersfield.”

There was whispering among those gathered in the field. Henry watched them covertly. He had as usual conveyed his wishes and he expected his councillors to obey them. If any one of them raised objections to what he wished, that man would doubtless find himself guilty of some offence later on; he would not be sent to prison; he would merely have to pay a handsome fine.

All knew this. Many of them had paid their fines for small offences. The King thought no worse of them, once they had paid. It was their money which placated him.

In a few seconds the council had made its decision.

“In the King’s realm the King is absolute master. He need not consider any foreign law or customs. All the King’s subjects should obey his wishes, and the Infanta, having married the Prince of Wales, albeit by proxy, is the King’s subject.”

Henry’s eyes gleamed with satisfaction which held a faint tinge of regret. He could not, with justice, extract a fine from one of them.

“Your answer is the only one I expected from you,” he said. “It is not to be thought of that the King should be denied access to any of his subjects.”

He led the way out of the field to where Ayala was waiting for him.

“The decision is made,” he said. Then he turned to Arthur. “You may ride on to Dogmersfield at the head of the cavalcade. I go on ahead.”

He spurred his horse and galloped off; and Ayala, laughing inwardly, closely followed him.

The Sovereigns of Spain would learn that this Henry of England was not a man to take orders, thought the ambassador. He wondered what Doña Elvira was going to say when she was confronted by the King of England.


* * *
* * *
* * *

KATHARINE WAS SITTING with her maids of honor when they heard the commotion in the hall below. It had been too miserable a day for them to leave the Bishop’s Palace and it had been decided that they should remain there until the rain stopped.

Elvira burst on them, and never had Katharine seen her so agitated.

“The King is below,” she said. Katharine stood up in alarm.

“He insists on seeing you. He declares he will see you. I cannot imagine what their Highnesses will say when this reaches their ears.”

“But does not the King of England know of my parents’ wishes?”

“It would seem there is only one whose wishes are considered in this place and that is the King of England.”

“What is happening below?”

“The Count of Cabra is telling the King that you are not to be seen until after the wedding, and the King is saying that he will not wait.”

“There is only one thing to be done,” said Katharine quietly. “This is England and when we are in the King’s country we must obey the King. Let there be no more protests. We must forget our own customs and learn theirs. Go and tell them that I am ready to receive the King.”

Elvira stared at her in astonishment; in that moment Katharine looked very like her mother, and it was as impossible for even Elvira to disobey her as it would have been to disobey Isabella of Castile.


* * *
* * *
* * *

SHE STOOD FACING the light, her veil thrown back.

She saw her father-in-law, a man a little above medium height, so thin that his somewhat sombre garments hung loosely on him; his sparse fair hair, which fell almost to his shoulders, was lank and wet; his long gown which covered his doublet was trimmed with ermine about the neck and wide sleeves. There was mud on his clothes and even on his face. He had clearly travelled far on horseback in this inclement weather and had not thought it necessary to remove the stains of travel before confronting her.

Katharine smiled and the alert, crafty eyes studied her intently, looking for some defect, some deformity which would make her parents desirous of hiding her from him; he could see none.

Henry could not speak Spanish and he had no Latin. Katharine had learned a little French from her brother Juan’s wife, Margaret of Austria, but Margaret’s stay in Spain had been short and, when she had gone, there had been no one with whom Katharine could converse in that language. Henry spoke in English: “Welcome to England, my lady Infanta. My son and I have eagerly awaited your coming these many months. If we have rudely thrust aside the customs of your country we ask pardon. You must understand that it was our great desire to welcome you that made us do so.”

Katharine attempted to reply in French but slipped into Spanish. She curtseyed before the King while his little eyes took in the details of her figure. She was healthy, this Spanish Infanta, more so than his frail Arthur. She was a good deal taller than Arthur; her eyes were clear; so was her skin. Her body was sturdy, and if not voluptuous it was strong. She was no beauty, but she was healthy and she was young; it was merely custom which had made her parents wish to hide her from him. Her only real claim to beauty was that abundant hair—thick, healthy hair with a touch of red in its color.

Henry was well satisfied.

She was talking to him now in her own tongue, and, although he could not understand her, he knew that she was replying to his welcome with grace and charm.

He took her hand and led her to the window.

Then he signed to Ayala who had at that moment entered the apartment.

“Tell the Infanta,” said Henry, “that I am a happy man this day.”

Ayala translated, and Katharine replied that the King’s kindness made her very happy too.

“Tell her,” said the King, “that in a few minutes her bridegroom will be riding to the palace at the head of a cavalcade. They cannot be much more than half an hour after me.”

Ayala told Katharine this; and she smiled.

She was standing between the King and Ayala, they in their wet garments, when she first saw her bridegroom.

He looked very small, riding at the head of that cavalcade, and her first feeling for him was: He is so young—he is younger than I am. He looks frightened. He is more frightened than I am.

And in that moment she felt less resentful of her fate.

She determined that she and Arthur were going to be happy together.


* * *
* * *
* * *

IT WAS LATER that evening. Katharine looked almost pretty in candlelight; her cheeks were faintly flushed; her gray eyes alight with excitement. Her maids of honor, all chosen for their beauty, were very lovely indeed. Only Doña Elvira Manuel sat aloof, displeased. She could not forget that the wishes of her Sovereigns had been ignored.