The Forbidden Queen

‘Stay, Katherine. I will be with you.’

There is more urgency in his voice now, and his arms band tighter round me. So he knows.

‘I am afraid,’ I say.

‘No need. I love you more than life. I’ll let no harm come to you.’

‘But you cannot stop it. How can you stand before the approaching storm and will it to disperse, my dear love? How can you scatter the winds that will destroy all we have together?’

‘Stay with me,’ he insists, lips warm and persuasive. ‘With our children.’

And I allow myself, for that one brief day, to be persuaded. His love is as potent as strong wine. Of course he will keep me safe.

‘I will stay,’ I promise.

His mouth demands, his body possesses with all the old energy and he enfolds me in love.

‘We will live for ever, Katherine. We will grow old and see our children grow strong and wed.’ And then the softest of whispers. ‘I cannot live without you.’

I hear the desperation in his voice.

‘Or I you,’ I reply. How will I exist without him?

Next morning he is gone, on some weighty errand of business, and my thoughts run clear again.

‘I will return by noon,’ he says, his hand on mine. ‘I will return as soon as I can.’

‘Yes,’ I reply. I fashion a smile and return his clasp.

As soon as he is gone, my eyes blind with tears, I order up my litter. I will need no belongings so I pack nothing. While I have my wits, I will determine my future: I will impose no unnecessary grief on those I love. My mind skitters back to that terrible time when I took the decision to set Owen free because I could not contemplate the anguish of his death, only to return to him when we found a way out together, a solution that our minds could fathom and apply.

But now there is no solution for me. Madness strips away all solutions. Death cancels all loyalties. I know I must free Owen to live his own life without the burden of my slow disintegration. There is no going back for me this time.

And yet, when the litter arrives at the door, for a moment still I hesitate. Will this be the greatest mistake of my life? I feel well, strong, in control of my actions. Perhaps I am misled after all. I should dismiss the litter and wait at the door to welcome him home, take his hands and kiss his dear face.

How will you tolerate the pity in his eyes? How will you tolerate it when passion dies and he cares for you out of duty? When he sits beside your bed, rather than carrying you to his own, when you no longer even recognise him and he turns from you in grief that is too great to bear?

I dress as a widow in sombre state, my still golden hair hidden, my still beautiful face veiled. I leave no written note. What to say? He will know. We said all that was needed without words when his body loved mine and my responses were of my own volition. I will remember that final moment until I can remember no more.

One final task. I visit the nursery and kiss my children: Edmund and Jasper and Owen. They do not understand. I hold them close and kiss them.

‘Be good. Be brave and strong. Obey your father and remember your mother.’

I touch Alice’s hand. She is weeping.

I am ready.

I leave my ring and the dragon brooch on the coffer beside his bed. The ring he gave me when we flouted all law and decency and wed, the brooch I took when I first loved him. I leave them for him, and I step into my litter.

I stand at the door of the great Abbey at Bermondsey. How cold my hands are. The door swings open because they expect me—I have sent word. They will take me in for my own sake with as much compassion as my money can buy for me. I will bear Owen’s final child here, in the care of the nuns.

I take one step forward.

If I go in, I will never step back into the world.

No, I cannot! Owen, my love, my love.

His promise, made to me in the chapel at Windsor, slams into my mind. I will never allow us to be parted, this side of the grave.

But it cannot be. My heart is breaking, my face is wet with tears that I cannot stop. Almost I step back, to be with him until I have no more breath in my body. Then my father stands before me. The capering halfwit, the vague, gibbering remnant of the king he had once been. The pain sets up a flutter in my head, behind my eyes. I know that soon it will become intense.

Goodbye, Owen. Goodbye. God keep you. Always know that I love you. Know that I have given you your freedom because I love you too much to tie you to a mindless ghost.

I take a breath.