‘Reassurance?’ The attack was still dynamic, his jaw taut with annoyance at his inability to wear me down as he had hoped. ‘Is that what you want? You have it, Katherine. I never promised you more than what I give you now.’

‘You did not promise me anything.’ Oh, I was calm, if perhaps not altogether fair.

‘There is no more that I can promise you. What do you ask of me?’

‘Nothing that is not of your own volition,’ I replied bleakly, as I held out the book. ‘Take it. I am in no mood for love poetry.’

‘I never do anything not of my own volition.’ His arrogance was truly impressive.

‘I know. Nor do I question your authority.’ I lifted my eyes to his and held his dark stare and spoke the words that had lived with me for so long. ‘I also know, my lord, that not once in all the time we have been together have you ever said that you love me. You speak of need and desire. Of passion. But not of love.’ I touched my tongue to dry lips, appalled at my courage, yet I repeated the fear at the centre of my heart. ‘You lavish words of romance and yearning on me. You kiss me and cherish me, but never have you spoken of what is in your heart. I have never asked it of you, but never have you offered me love.’

The Duke looked as if I had doused him in icy water, the planes of his face flattening under the unexpected. He was certainly stuck dumb.

‘I expect that is because, for you, it does not exist.’

Then, when he took the book, frowning, rather than have me drop it onto the beautifully patterned tiles at his feet, I walked away, more despairing than I had ever been since I stood in my courtyard with flood-water lapping round my ankles. Nothing was settled between us. The emotion that I took to bed with me that night was one of raw distress that I had compromised my principles for nothing in the end, because he would send me away.

He has given his son into your keeping. He trusts you to educate his daughters and the heir to the great Lancaster inheritance. His physical desire for you is as strong as it ever was. You cannot doubt him.

But I did. He did not love me. I waited for formal dismissal: it might suit the ducal pair very well. My deliberate challenge to the Duke’s legendary sangfroid might just tip the balance.




Chapter Ten

‘To my fair wife who had given me an equally beautiful daughter. Today we celebrate them both, particularly Katalina on this first commemoration of the day of her birth a year ago.’ He smiled down at Constanza who had her eyes trained on her clasped hands. ‘We hope for a restoration of Castile for our daughter’s future dowry when we look for a husband for her.’ He smiled, as did the guests. ‘A little young as yet but one day…’

He drank and passed the cup to Constanza, who at last looked up and, inclining her head graciously at the Duke, she drank too. There was a glow in her eye.

‘And we hope for a son to become King of Castile in my name,’ she added, her voice vibrating with emotion. ‘Do we not, my lord?’

‘So we hope.’ He bowed gravely, raising her fingers to his lips, whilst I clenched mine against an all-too-recognisable bolt of pure envy. What a wearying emotion it was, but I could not shake myself free of it.

‘It is my life’s work to take back your kingdom, my lady.’

‘And to provide me with an heir,’ she reiterated.

‘We would both welcome the birth of a son.’

I sat, conscious of my magnificence in my new rose-pink sleeves, extravagantly embroidered and edged in thick sable, conscious also of Lady Alice’s warning to be wary, to keep my jealous inclinations under control. Consequently my nails dug painfully into my palms, until we were summoned to echo the toast, raising our cups to fill the room with an oscillating sheen of gold as the candles warmed the precious metals.

No sign of Lady Alice’s doom and gloom for the marriage here. At the same time my position was still secure in our removal to Kenilworth. The Duchess was more than content. I was no longer even sure that she saw me as a rival to the Duke’s affections. I began to relax with a cup of good Bordeaux at my elbow. As I sipped it, it seemed that she was not even aware, and that my suspicions of the night of the charade were misplaced.