‘And why is that, Lady de Swynford?’ The line between the Duchess’s brows was sharp-etched. ‘Has your sojourn in London, the superior accommodations at The Savoy, made you dislike our life here at Hertford?’

‘No, my lady…I need to go home to Kettlethorpe. My husband’s estates in Lincolnshire,’ I added when she appeared not to understand. ‘And now my son’s.’

‘I see.’ Her brow wrinkled. ‘I understand that there might be matters of business for you to attend to in your son’s name. Then of course you must. But will you not return?’

‘No, my lady,’ I interrupted before she could say any more and my courage disintegrate. It seemed to me to be already in rags. ‘I need to leave your service.’

I heard the rustle of Philippa’s damask layers as she changed her stance. Mistress Elyot set down the stitching in her lap, making no pretence that she was occupied elsewhere. The damsels exchanged glances as the lute was discarded.

‘I wish to live permanently at Kettlethorpe,’ I explained. ‘It has become imperative that I do so.’ My lips were so dry that the words were hard to form.

‘Why would you wish to do that? I thought it was a poor way of life.’

‘Yes, my lady, but—’

‘Are you not satisfied with your position here?’ Constanza’s voice was suddenly harsh with accusation, and, I thought, astonishment.

‘I am more than satisfied, my lady. It is a position that I value.’

‘But I need you. To help with the child.’ Resentment was building fast and the Duchess flung out her arms as if it must be obvious to any person of sense. ‘You have only just settled into my household. I do not see that…’

Her glance suddenly landed on my face, searching, assessing, reminding me that this lady had a good supply of wit.

‘I am aware,’ she announced with a heavy dose of disapproval, ‘of the gift that my lord has made to you, in recognition of your services to me. And that is as it should be—I have no complaint. But such an increase in your annuity—I confess it is a surprise to me.’ Her tone had climbed a little higher than was her wont. ‘As I understand it, your annuity for service has risen from twenty to fifty marks. Some would say that is more than open-handed. Can you afford to dispense with such a sum? If your estates are so encumbered? I would say that fifty marks a year would make any woman content to remain in service to me. My lord has been extraordinarily generous. Some would say that you owe us your loyalty.’

I had not expected this level of attack, and felt a flush of uncomfortable hot blood mantle my neck as I heard the intake of breath from my sister. And yet I should have anticipated it, if I had not been so caught up in more pressing concerns. I wished with all my heart that Constanza had not seen fit to announce my annuity to the whole room.

‘I am grateful, more than I can express,’ I replied, mustering an air of acquiescence. ‘But I have a need to go to Kettlethorpe, my lady. The estates do not thrive. I had hoped that service in your household would enable me to remedy this.’ I took another breath to steady the nerves in my belly. ‘The truth is that I am faced with hostile voices from neighbours, and demands that I put into place improvement of the land drains. I am unable to ignore it. It is my son’s inheritance, and so it is my duty. It would be deplorable for me to allow him to inherit land of no worth, or with the burden of local opposition raised against him.’

It sounded plausible even to my ears. Behind me Philippa dug the toe of her shoe against the tiles.

‘I believe that I need to be there, to answer the complaints, and show that I am not unsympathetic to local problems. An absent landlord can sometimes stir up trouble simply by being absent.’

Constanza stared at me for a long moment. Would she refuse to release me? What would I do if she demanded that I remain? The Duchess raised her chin. I returned her gaze and prayed silently.

‘Very well. Perhaps one day you will return to us.’ Waving me aside, her displeasure was intense as she retired once more into formality, but all I felt was relief.

‘Thank you, my lady.’

My curtsy was heartfelt.

‘When is it that you wish to go?’

‘Tomorrow, my lady, if it please you.’

Relief was cold on my brow. I had known that to appeal to the importance of inheritance would sway the Duchess if nothing else would.

‘Then perhaps you must make arrangements.’

Constanza, gesturing to Mistress Elyot to take the child from my arms as if my hours in her employ were already numbered, walked away from me, her shoulder deliberately turned, to fall into conversation with one of her Castilian damsels. The lute player began to pick out a Castilian love song.

It hurt me.

But it did not hurt me as much as the impending consequences if I remained at Hertford.

I was surreptitiously blotting moisture from my cheeks with my sleeve when footsteps hurrying after me gave me warning, and there was Philippa at my side.

I marched on, even when she caught at my arm, conscious only of the chill rising from the stones that were no colder than my heart. Winter cold, I thought, with shards of ice to hurt and tear. Tears collected in my throat, only to be swallowed. I would not weep. I was free to go. That is what I had wanted, so what point in repining.

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘Why not? You know the problems with Kettlethorpe,’ I replied. ‘They get no better with time and my distance from them. And now there is a deluge of complaint to be answered…’ Which was not untrue. At least there was some element of truth in the whole episode, I thought bitterly.

‘I know all about that.’ Philippa gripped my sleeve so that I must perforce come to a standstill. ‘You came here to seek a position in the first place because you could not live without the money.’

I could not look at her. ‘There have been serious inundations on the land, in my absence,’ I said.

‘And your presence will make a difference?’

‘Yes.’

‘I don’t believe you. Why in heaven’s name do you need to go to Kettlethorpe? Why do you need to remain there permanently? You have a steward, don’t you?’

‘Yes, you know I do. Don’t be obtuse, Philippa.’ I shrugged her off with as much insouciance as I could muster. ‘I simply feel that I should be there. And with the legal settlement of the estate still not made…’

Philippa waved this aside in typical fashion. ‘And what about the children? Will you disrupt their lives again? Are you so selfish?’

‘Thomas and Margaret will come with me. Blanche will stay here.’

Before I could stop her she grabbed hold of my hands, forcing me to face her when I would rather not.

‘To take yourself off to the wilds of Lincolnshire when you fought so hard in the first place to have this position…’ She frowned, refusing to be reassured. ‘There’s something untoward here and you’re not telling me.’

‘It is nothing. Just the usual matter of a dilapidated estate and a steward who is growing old.’

‘So appoint a new one. The Duke will appoint him for you if you lack the confidence to do it yourself.’

‘Of course I don’t lack confidence. Just the money to pay some bright young man—’

‘And you never will have the money unless you stay in the Duke’s employ.’

I saw the trench I had dug for myself but by now had no choice but to leap into it, for good or ill. ‘Well, I cannot…Now, if you will let me go.’

She released me, but her tone no less amenable. It had acquired an edge. ‘By the by. I did not know of your vast importance, Kate! Fifty marks for your annuity, by the Virgin!’

‘For my service to Blanche, I expect.’

‘Didn’t we all serve her? I do not receive fifty marks!’

I pulled away and left her to her ill-temper.

Next day, our belongings packed onto a pair of sumpter horses, Thomas and Margaret ensconced in a borrowed litter while Agnes and I rode, I left Hertford with little in the way of farewells. There was not much to say between us. Constanza was not pleased, Lady Alice regretful and Philippa, lapsed into a furious silence, essentially disbelieving of any explanation I might give.

Of one fact only I was certain as I looked to the north and the towers of Hertford fell away behind. Discovering my absence, precipitate and without warning, the Duke would be hot foot after me, to demand an explanation. I imagined that he would think that I had lost my wits.

He would follow me to Kettlethorpe.

To slight a Plantagenet prince was to play with fire. I might play hazard with the truth for Philippa and the Duchess. I could not lie to the Duke.




Chapter Seven

What was it I hoped to achieve? What outcome of this confrontation did I envisage? In all honesty I had no idea. I simply knew that I must show no weakness. My heart raced as the door opened. At the very least I expected the Duke to be marvellously furious. What I did not expect was the freezing, excruciating, perfectly executed politeness.