Gutierre looked down his long aristocratic nose at the humble son of a humble father. He was eager to show these people that he, Knight Commander of the Order of Membrilla, scion of an ancient house, was quite determined not to listen to the babbling of upstarts, who were of humble origin and marranos at that.
“Give your father my regrets and wishes for his speedy recovery,” he said coldly.
“My father hopes you will call on him at the earliest time Your Excellency finds agreeable. He wishes me to say to you that this matter, which is the reason for your coming to England, is a very complicated one and, as the English are extremely shrewd, he would like to make you acquainted with all details as soon as possible.”
Gutierre bowed his head and murmured that he would bear the matter in mind.
He would make no appointment to call at the residence of his fellow ambassador, and the young man was forced to retire in some bewilderment.
When he had gone, Gutierre let his anger burst forth.
Does that Jew think that he can teach me Court manners? he asked himself. He would show Dr. de Puebla—and their master, Ferdinand—that the only ambassadors worthy of the name were those of noble blood.
THE NEWS WAS brought to Katharine that her father’s ambassador was in England, and she rejoiced. She was optimistic. Her father’s affairs were becoming prosperous once more and she knew that, on the rise and fall of her father’s power, her own future prospects would fluctuate.
She wept bitterly when she heard the news of Juana’s strange conduct and of how she kept the dead body of her husband with her and refused to relinquish it. She had become accustomed to hearing her sister referred to as the mad Queen; but she was still endeavoring to bring about a marriage between Juana and Henry because Henry so desired it and, she told herself, if Juana were to come to England, I could help to look after her; and surely she could not bring the body of her dead husband here. Katharine believed that once Juana could be persuaded to bury Philip, she would begin to regain her sanity.
She was not unconscious of the fact that, as a result of Juana’s madness, Ferdinand was a greater power in Spain than he would be if Juana were sound in mind and able to rule; and, since it was due to the rising power of Ferdinand that she herself was treated with more respect, she could not help reflecting sadly that they appeared to be a house divided against itself, since Juana’s misfortune could work to her, Katharine’s, good.
She was all eagerness to meet Gutierre Gomez de Fuensalida, for she would be delighted to dispense with the services of Puebla.
Her maids of honor—and Francesca de Carceres in particular—were continually complaining about the little man. They were sure it was due to his mismanagement of affairs that they were still living in this unsatisfactory way, while the years passed, they grew older, and no husbands were found for them.
Francesca was particularly bitter, as she loved gaiety more than did the others. Maria de Salinas and Inez de Veñegas were resigned, and she believed these two very dear friends of hers suffered more on her account than on their own.
Katharine lost no time in telling them of the arrival of the new ambassador.
Francesca was frankly delighted. “And Don Gutierre Gomez de Fuensalida!” she cried. “He is a very grand gentleman. He will know how to deal with your father-in-law, Highness.”
“I do not believe my father-in-law will care whether he has to deal with the nobleman or the lawyer Jew. His great concern will be the payment of the dowry.”
“I shall make our sad state known to the new ambassador,” declared Francesca. “Something must be done for us before we are too old to be married at all.”
Poor Francesca! thought Katharine. How she longed for marriage! She should be the mother of several children by now.
“I am a little anxious,” she said. “I am wondering what will happen when my plate and jewels are valued. The value will be found to be a great deal less than when I arrived. And these were to be part of the dowry.”
“But what could Your Highness do?” demanded Maria de Salinas. “You had to live.”
“There are times,” Katharine murmured, “when I believe that kings and ambassadors do not think that it is necessary for a princess and her household to eat. She is merely a figure to be used when the state needs her. She can marry. She can bear children. But eat! That is not considered at all necessary.”
Maria de Salinas was startled to hear the bitterness in Katharine’s voice. It was well, she reflected, that the new ambassador was here and that it was possible he would bring the negotiations, which had been going on for so many years, to a satisfactory end.
WHEN HENRY RECEIVED the Spanish Ambassador, the King was wrapped in a long robe and sat huddled near a blazing fire.
“My dear Ambassador,” said Henry with more warmth than he usually displayed. “You find me in ill health. I cannot move easily, so you must sit beside me and give me news of my dear brother, the King of Aragon.”
“My master sends his greetings to Your Grace,” answered Fuensalida, bowing with courtly grace.
“I pray you be seated,” said Henry; and, his alert eyes looking out from the wrinkles which pain had set about them, he summed up the character of the new ambassador. Here was one of the Spanish grandees, a man with a great opinion of himself. That was not displeasing. Henry liked weakness in the ambassadors of other countries.
When Fuensalida was seated, Henry said: “I know that you have come to see me on two matters of great importance and interest to me. They are also matters of great happiness: marriages. How much better it is for Kings to unite through such alliances than to quarrel together! What news do you bring me of Queen Juana?”
“There is no King to whom Ferdinand would rather see his daughter married than yourself.”
“Then why delay…why delay?”
“It is on account of the strangeness of the Queen of Castile.”
Henry frowned. “I have heard of this strangeness, but what does it mean? She has recently been brought to bed of a fine daughter. She has borne sons. I would ask nothing more of a wife than that.”
“It is said that the Queen of Castile is insane.”
“Insane! Bah! She is fertile. We in England would have no objection to a little insanity if a Queen were fertile, as I have already explained.”
“Then the negotiations should go forward.”
“And with speed,” cried the King. “You see me here…”
He did not finish, and Fuensalida spoke for him: “Your Grace is no longer in your first youth. A speedy marriage is a necessity for you that you might get sons before it is too late.”
Henry was astonished. No one had ever dared refer to the fact that it was possible he would not be long for this world. And here was this stranger calmly telling him so. He felt very angry, the more so because he knew the truth of the statement. Had they told Juana that he was an old man and that his eagerness for their marriage was not his regard for her but the immediate and desperate need to beget a son before the grave claimed him?
Surely this ambassador must be the most tactless man Ferdinand could possibly have sent him.
“And there is a matter of great importance to us both,” went on Fuensalida who, since he never considered the feelings of others, was never conscious of wounding them, “and that is the marriage of the Infanta and the Prince of Wales.”
Impudence! thought Henry. He dares to change the subject! Where are his manners? Or does he think that a Spanish grandee takes precedence over a King of England?