The Forbidden Queen

I recalled my sister and I, mocking and fearing my father in equal measure. Would my children mock me, fleeing from me in terror?

God help me. I prayed that this madness would not come to me.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

‘Where do we go now?’ I fretted, nerves jumping at every footfall, every shadow. ‘I need to be here. I need to know what they are doing.’

We were standing outside the Council Chamber, in the courtyard that seemed to attract every blast of cold air. I shivered, thinking that, despite my reluctance, we would have to go to my old rooms in Westminster after all. Edmund was almost asleep on his feet. Jasper had already succumbed in Joan Asteley’s arms, head heavy on her shoulder. I smoothed Edmund’s hair as he clung to my hand.

‘It’s wicked,’ Alice muttered, as anxious as I, ‘that a good man’s freedom should be so circumscribed. I say we should go.’ I could feel her eyes on my face. ‘But we must find shelter soon.’

‘And it won’t make any difference to the Lords’ decision-making whether we are here or not.’ On the surface Owen was far more sanguine than I as he lifted Edmund up into his arms. ‘They’ll do what they will in their own good time, but you can’t travel, Katherine. We stay at Westminster.’ I did not think he was sanguine at all, simply more intent on soothing me. I would not be soothed, for my mind was full of Gloucester’s outrage. At every stir in the icy air I expected to see a group of armed men in Gloucester’s livery appear, sent to lay hands on Owen with some trumped-up charge that would put him in a cell.

The decision was taken out of our hands.

‘Owen!’ I clutched his arm, clinging with one hand as I spread the other across my belly. I felt him stiffen, brace himself against my weight, but before he could ask me if I was in pain, my waters broke, splattering on the paving. I clutched harder as the familiar pains gripped me, almost forcing me to my knees.

Passing Edmund to Alice, Owen was supporting me. ‘Well, fy nghariad

. It’s decided. We’re staying at Westminster.’ His arm was around my waist, holding me firmly against him. When I tried to concentrate on his face it was stern and set, but he managed not to say ‘I told you so’. ‘We’ll make use of the chambers you used to occupy.’

‘Too far,’ I gasped, the wave of pain refusing to release me. I knew this rabbit warren of a palace well, knew how long it would take us to reach my accommodations. The pains ebbed, giving me respite, but I tensed for their renewed onset. Edmund and Jasper had taken their time in sliding into the world but now—Another wave gripped me. ‘This child is in a hurry.’

Still holding Edmund, Alice was there, clasping my other hand, searching my face where perspiration was already gathering on temple and upper lip. I groaned as the familiar agony washed over me. ‘She’s right, sir. There’s no time. Somewhere close.’

Owen held me upright with what might have been the ghost of a laugh. ‘There is one possibility, which could solve all our problems. Can you walk?’ When I nodded, with his arm clamped firmly around my waist he led me up steps, over cold paving, through one doorway after another until it seemed that I was surrounded by arches. When I looked up I could glimpse the early glimmer of stars in the winter sky but I was sheltered from the wind. Our slow footsteps echoed hollowly.

‘Where are we?’ The pain was intense again.

‘The Abbey cloisters.’ Owen settled me on the stone ledge that ran round the edge, where monks would sit to read and study. ‘It may be the answer—even if it does put the fear of Almighty God into the holy brothers!’ He turned to Father Benedict. ‘Go and—’ He saw the dazed look in my chaplain’s eyes. ‘I’ll go myself. Wait here.’ He pressed down on my shoulder, as if I could do any other.

‘Don’t go.’ It was too much to let him out of my sight. What if Gloucester’s men snatched him up and I did not know?

‘I’ll come to no harm.’

‘How can you say that?’ I panted.

‘I have an idea. I don’t know why I did not think of this earlier. Look after her,’ he ordered Alice, and strode off.

‘Where is he going?’ I was beyond ideas, feeling panic rise as his footsteps faded into the distance. Suddenly, although I had Alice and Joan and Guille and even Father Benedict fussing in the background, I felt very alone.

‘I don’t know.’ Alice patted my hand, helpless in this situation. ‘Hold this child,’ she ordered Father Benedict, handing Edmund over, and turned back to me. ‘Don’t fret. It will be some time yet.’

‘I don’t think so,’ I cried out in renewed distress.

The clip of footsteps crept back into my consciousness as I clung hard to Alice’s hands.

‘Thank God,’ Father Benedict muttered.

When I opened my eyes, there was Owen, flanked by two black-robed men. Old monks, dry as dust, cautious in their words, but compassionate in their way as they peered at me in the light of a lantern that one carried and held above my head.

‘My lady. You need our charity.’