“All these anxieties come with the first,” she told me. “Wait until you have your second. You will not be half as fearful.”
My baby flourished. She was the joy of my life. I marveled at her tiny hands and feet; her eyes were blue and wondering; when she first smiled at me my heart filled with an overflowing love and I cared for nothing that had gone before since it had brought me my child.
The world outside began to intrude on the little paradise I shared with my baby.
There was a letter from Kate.
“I am coming to see you. I must have a glimpse of my…what is she? Cousin of some sort, I suppose.”
I smiled. How typical of Kate to think of the child’s connection with her!
“According to you she is the most wonderful child who ever existed but a mother’s testimonial is rarely accurate. So I must come and see this model of perfection for myself. Remus is going to Scotland on the King’s business. So while he is away, why should I not visit St. Bruno’s Abbey?”
I was delighted as always at the prospect of seeing Kate, but a little uneasy for she had a penetrating eye and she was particularly interested in the relationship between Bruno and myself, which had not grown closer since Catherine’s birth. Moreover I was perfectly content with my child.
Kate arrived in due course, full of vitality and as beautiful as ever.
“How convenient that we should not be too far away!” she announced. “What if I had married a Scottish lord? It would not have been so easy for us to meet.” She scrutinized me. “Damask! The Mother! It suits you, Damask. You are more plump. Quite the matron. No, scarcely that. But different. And where is this paragon who is named after me?”
“I call her my little Cat,” I said fondly.
She admired the baby. “Yes, a little beauty. Well, Cat, what do you think of Cousin Kate?”
My baby gave Kate that beautiful smile and Kate bent over and kissed her.
“There, sweetheart,” she said, “we are to be good friends.”
I could see that she was not so much interested in the child as intensely curious about the state of affairs between Bruno and myself. She talked openly about Remus. She was patronizing in a tolerant way, but she was certainly grateful for the life of luxury which she owed to him.
Carey came with her—a lovely boy nearly two years old, curious, mischievous and with a look of Kate.
He was interested in little Cat and would stand by her cot gazing at her. She liked him too, it seemed. And there was of course Honey whom I had been particularly careful not to neglect since the arrival of my baby. I wanted them to grow up as sisters but I suppose it was inevitable that she should be a little jealous, for try as I might I could not entirely hide my absorption with my own child.
I washed and fed Catherine myself but I would make sure to always have Honey by to help. “She is only little, Honey,” I would say. “Not a big girl like you. She has much to learn.”
That cheered her a little.
“She is your little sister,” I said; and I thought then that if Keziah’s story was true Honey was in fact my baby’s aunt.
But now Kate was with us and life naturally changed. She was curious about everything that was going on in the Abbey. She watched it with a sort of envy which told me that she was imagining herself here in my place.
When Bruno joined us I was aware of her feelings for him. His feelings for her were more guarded, but I knew that he was not indifferent to her.
She was of course knowledgeable about what was going on at Court and loved to show off her superiority in that respect.
The King was looking for a new wife.
“Poor man, he is so unlucky with his wives! And now no woman is very anxious for the greatest honor in the land. Girls tremble when the King casts a lascivious eye in their direction. They are inclined to say Anne Boleyn’s famous remark in reverse as it were, ‘Nay, Sire, your wife I cannot be. I would liefer be your mistress.’ ”
“I pity the poor woman he chooses next,” I said.
“She will be a woman who has married before, you may be sure of it. This new statute would terrify an unmarried girl. You know it has now been declared high treason for anyone not a virgin to many the King. Parents are afraid to send their young daughters to Court.”
“Perhaps he will not marry at all for he is no longer young.”
“He is nearly fifty years of age, and overweight. He has an ulcer on his leg which is quite offensive. But he is a King withal and his courtiers wait upon his smiles and scurry from his frowns. So he has great attraction left.”
“Is power more important than handsome looks and youth?” I asked.
“Power is the very essence of masculine charm, I do assure you. I could never love the most beautiful cowherd in the world but I might easily feel affection for an aging King.”
“How cynical you have become!”
“I have not become so. Come now, you know I have always been so.”
“Well, pray do not cast your eyes upon the King for strange as it may seem I should suffer a pang or two of sorrow if your head was severed from your shoulders.”
“It has always been firmly planted thereon and there I intend it to remain. My dear cousin, what pleasure it gives me to be with you! Forget you not that I am married to Remus and unless he meets a gory end in Scotland, which is not unlikely since he carries arms there for the King and the battles have been fierce, I am in no position to take another husband.”
“Oh, Kate, do not talk so!”
“You are still the same sentimental Damask. Nay, have no fear for me. I shall know how to take care of myself if I should become a widow.”
“I had no idea that it was in order to fight that Lord Remus was in Scotland.”
“The young mother sees not beyond her nest. Did you not know that our King, having lost his wife to the executioner’s ax, has turned his attention—temporarily—to other matters? He wished to be proclaimed King of Scotland. So, Remus in the company of His Grace of Norfolk has now marched over the border. I hear that the Scots have been thoroughly routed and I do believe that His Majesty the King is preparing to join his forces there. So you see, my Remus, between His Grace of Norfolk—uncle of two Queens—and the King himself, will be in the best of company. As I am, for I do declare, my sweet Damask, that little gives me as much pleasure as my discourse with you.”
And so we talked of matters at Court and we went over the past and recalled incidents from our childhood as one does with those who have shared it.
She was very content to leave Carey with the children and I saw less of my little daughter during Kate’s stay than I had since her birth. But much as I enjoyed Kate’s company I longed to assure myself continually that my child was not in some danger.
Kate might laugh at me as my mother did but I could not help this. The child was dearer to me than anything on earth.
We dined at eleven in the morning and supped at six o’clock. Meals were taken in the big hall and all came to table. It meant very little opportunity of intimate conversation. I sat on one side of Bruno, Kate on the other and often I would catch her eyes sparkling with a mischief of which I could not quite understand. I could not discover their feelings toward each other. Kate’s was light and bantering; he was inclined to be quiet, but he was watchful of her, I know.
Clement excelled himself during Kate’s visit. There were big joints of beef and mutton succulently cooked; there were enormous pies and he often decorated these with the Remus coat of arms in honor of Kate. There was bacon, fowls, butter and cheese in plenty. And Bruno was anxious for us to try the carrots and turnips which he had recently brought in and which were fast becoming very popular.
There was often talk about the work of the farm and those whose duty it was to fish and prepare what they caught for our table or to sell it would talk of the day’s catch in their places below the salt cellar.