The princess smiled. “I am pleased to know that your household is a good Christian one, Sir Owein.” Then she turned to Dona Elvira, saying, “Fetch some refreshment for us. Would you have Sir Owein say I am a poor hostess when he has come so far to see me?”
“And leave you alone with a man?” the duenna said furiously in their native Spanish. “Are you mad?”
“Maria is with us, duenna,” the princess replied in the same tongue. “Now go and do as I have instructed you.”
With a swish of her black skirts Dona Elvira stamped from the room.
“She pretends to have no knowledge of English,” the princess said, “but she understands the language perfectly even if she does not speak it any better than I. First I would thank you for the purse. I will not dissemble with you. I am in desperate need.”
“We wish it could be more, your highness,” Owein said, noting that the princess’ sleeve cuffs were badly worn. “If I would not offend you, could you send one of your people to us in the autumn? If you do, we will see he returns with another small purse for your highness.”
“Maria, see it is so, and do not tell the old dragon,” Katherine of Aragon said.
“I will arrange it, your highness,” Maria de Salinas, the princess’ close companion, responded.
“Poor Maria,” the princess told Sir Owein. “Her family had arranged a marriage for her with a wealthy Fleming, but it was my responsibility to dower her, and I could not. I hope one day to be able to make it up to her.” She sighed deeply. “Tell me what you hear, Sir Owein.”
“Madame, I live in Cumbria. I hear little of the court,” he replied.
“You have friends, and they write, I know. What is being said about my marriage to Prince Henry? I have not seen him in many months now, though we both live at court.” Her fingers nervously plucked at her dark claret silk skirts.
He hesitated, but then decided that the truth was best in this difficult situation. “There is a rumor come to my ears in the north, and mind you, as far as I know it is just a rumor. It is said that the king considers another alliance for his son.”
“With whom?” she queried.
“Your niece, Princess Eleanor,” he replied.
Katherine of Aragon shook her head in despair. “She is a child, God help her. But how like my brother-in-law to even involve himself in such a negotiation. I knew he hated my father, but I did not think he hated him enough to harm me. And Juana! My poor mad sister! She is so jealous of Philip that she has driven him away with her suspicions. A wife must overlook her husband’s peccadilloes no matter her own pride. My sister does not understand that being the archduke’s wife makes her important, and no mistress can take that away from her. Do you know if anything has been signed?”
“Not to my knowledge, your highness, but they can sign nothing unless your own betrothal to Prince Henry is repudiated,” Owein reminded her hopefully.
Katherine shook her head sadly. “I am in such difficult straits,” she said. “King Henry regards me as bound, but his son as free. I do not know what I shall do if I am cast off.”
“You will not be!” Owein Meredith said strongly. “It is your sister who inherited Aragon, not Archduke Philip, your highness. Your father will find a way to make this satisfactory. He can surely reason with Queen Juana in this matter. Everything will be all right, your highness. I am certain of it! We pray for you at Friarsgate, and we will continue to pray for you.”
“How odd,” the princess said softly, “that an unimportant girl from Cumbria and her knightly husband should be my champions. I have few friends here, Sir Owein. I am content to know that you are on my side, though you be far away.”
“You will be Queen of England one day, your highness,” he told her quietly. “A Tudor queen. From the age of six I have served the Tudors, and I will serve you, too, as will Rosamund.” He knelt and kissed her hand once again. “King Henry can be hard, and I know from my friends that he is not well. But he is no fool. The match he made with your parents will stand in the end, your highness. Of that I am certain.” He arose. “With your permission I will withdraw from you now. I have had a long journey, and I should like to see some of my friends before I must return home to Friarsgate.” He bowed to her.
“See me one more time before you go,” she said, and he nodded.
He left the princess’ apartments and sought out some of his former companions. They were pleased to see him, and teased him that he had sired only daughters so far. Over their wine cups, however, they were filled with gossip, and Owein learned it was even worse for the poor princess than he had imagined. Katherine of Aragon was virtually destitute. The king had stopped her allowance entirely. She lived with the court because she could no longer afford to live at Durham House, which belonged to the Bishop of London.
Before she had been forced to give up her house she had been driven to economize to such an extent that her servants had to buy day-old fish, bread, and vegetables in the market. Many of the young women who had come with her from Spain in hopes of making good English marriages had been sent home because the princess could not afford to keep them, let alone dower them. Maria de Salinas had refused to leave her friend, however. Katherine was in debt to several London merchants who were not in the least shy of dunning her. Katherine, it was said, disliked Dr. de Puebla, the Spanish ambassador. She preferred the other envoy from Spain, Hernan Duque de Estrada, who wassimpaticotoward the princess and wrote the king on her behalf, though it did absolutely no good.
The princess, Owein’s friends told him, was constantly ill now with one complaint or another. She suffered from tertian fevers, an irregular flux, and headaches that left her so weak she was often unable to arise from her bed or leave her chamber for days at a time. Her nerves were not good, and she was suffering depression. Feeling alone and virtually friendless, she was frequently near collapse. Owein’s friends wondered aloud to him if she were indeed the right wife for Prince Henry.
“Will a girl of such delicate sensibilities be able to make princes for England?” one said bluntly. “And she is no spring chicken any longer at nineteen. Perhaps the king is correct when he seeks a younger girl.”
“Princess Katherine will make England a fine queen one day,” Owein said loyally. “She is yet young enough, and I suspect the prince will do better with a wife a bit older than he.”
“You should see him,” another knight said. “He has grown from a big boy into a large man. Why, Owein, he stands at least six feet four inches in height, and has limbs like tree trunks. He has a man’s body, but yet a boy’s mind. The king hardly allows him any chance to rule. At least they sent poor Arthur, God assoil his soul, to Wales to learn kingship. The king will not part with Prince Hal though. He keeps a tight rein upon the lad.”
“Not so tight that the prince doesn’t get to lift a few skirts now and again,” said a third man with a chuckle. “He’s got a satyr’s appetite for female flesh, he does. If the princess does wed him, she’ll have to look the other way when his highness’ eye begins to roam, as it undoubtedly will.”
“It is to be hoped that Prince Hal will not make a public spectacle,” Owein noted. “The princess is a proud girl.”
He remained drinking and learning the court gossip with his friends until they all bedded down in the king’s hall for the night. In the morning, his head a bit the worse for wear, he again sought out Princess Katherine and bid her farewell.
