“Do not speak of it.”
“Why?” Suddenly she was panicked, afraid.
“Because we were legally wed, Katherine, regardless of your other, forced marriage, and the pirate will hang. Ihave no intention of abandoning you now, in your time of need. What kind of man would I be?”
Katherine stared up at him, stunned.
“Do not mistake me,” he said grimly. “I am not pleased by any of this. But eventually, when the pirate is dead, we will be able to put all of this behind us. If I did not believe that, then perhaps I would abandon you as a lesser man would.”
Katherine was crying, shaking her head.
“Why do you weep?” John asked angrily. “For him? Do you love him?”
She pulled her arm from his and hugged herself again, uneasily, telling herself that she must not answer truthfully. “He is the father of my child. I do not wish to see him hang.”
“He will hang,” Hawke said firmly, “for the queen cannot show any leniency in this case. And it is for the best. It is best for everyone involved, and if you think carefully, if you think of the child, you will agree.”
Her child. A pirate-traitor’s babe. One the whole world would condemn as a bastard, and worse, condemn as Liam O’Neill’s son. Suddenly Katherine understood Liam completely, too late. Suddenly she understood what it had been like for him growing up, and what it was like for him living now, carrying the ugly burden of the fact of his paternity, unable ever to escape being Shane O’Neill’s son. Suddenly Katherine recalled every time she had taunted him, scorned him, and condemned him for being Shane O’Neill’s son. And she recalled their last vicious argument, when she had told him, untruthfully, that she could never love him because Shane O’Neill had been his father.
Katherine was sick, in her heart, in her soul. How could she have been so cold-hearted, so cruel?
And would her own child suffer as Liam had, for the sins and crimes of his father?
Katherine wiped her eyes, and looked up at John. “Will you raise my child?” she asked unevenly. “Will you be a good, kind father?” Her heart was breaking all over again.Oh, Liam. I am sorry, but now I protect our child—I do!
“Not only will I be a good father to your child, Katherine, I will give him my name,” Hawke stated. “Even if it is a boy.”
A huge sob burst from Katherine’s throat. She could not speak, and was blinded now by her tears.
“And you, of course, shall give me my own sons,” he said.
Katherine turned her head away, unable to stop crying, nodding. She was a mother, and like any mother, would do whatever had to be done to protect and nourish her child. But God, how hard it was to accept her fate, how hard, how painful. Yet there was no choice. Not anymore, not for her. Because even if a miracle occurred, even if Liam escaped or were freed, she could not return to him—no matter that she knew now that she still loved him with all of her heart.
But Katherine had to face the heartrending face of reality. It did not appear that Liam would be pardoned, and no one escaped from the Tower. Only a miracle, it seemed, would save him.
And Katherine had stopped believing in miracles long ago.
She must do everything in her power to save Liam, she realized, everything—anything—it would be her parting gift to him, a gift of eternal love—the gift of life.
Katherine decided to remain in her room rather than go down to supper in the dining hall. She needed time to think and to plan, and had no wish anyway to face the curious and lewd stares of the court at the dinner meal. She and John had also agreed to postpone their journey to Cornwall for another few days, because of Katherine’s obvious exhaustion. Katherine was relieved. She had some small amount of time, then, to find a powerful ally to aid her in her cause to save Liam’s life.
And Katherine was seized with more determination now as well. For she could not survive if she did not see him before she departed for Cornwall. She did not know what she would do, or what she would say, if she succeeded infinding a way to visit him secretly, she only knew that she must see him one more time. But how?
She did not dare turn to John.
A dark, handsome, saturnine image filled Katherine’s mind. His smile was seductive and dangerous, his intention bold, amoral, and amorous. Robert Dudley, the earl of Leicester. One of the most powerful men at court, nay, in all of England. He could help her—if he but chose to do so.
And Katherine knew exactly what price she would have to pay to gain his support. But pay it she would, in order to see Liam one more time—in order to save Liam’s life.
Katherine could not approach Leicester directly. She did not dare, recalling too well the queen’s threat to behead her should she ever slip into his bed. There was only one person Katherine trusted to serve as a messenger for her. She had already sent a message to Anne Hastings, asking her to come to her room.
Katherine jumped when she heard the knock upon her door. She was both relieved and terrified to espy Anne, who was smiling widely.
Anne entered her room; Katherine bolted the door behind her, and the two women hugged. “Katherine,” Anne exclaimed, “I am so glad to see you—how I worried about you this past year—how beautiful you are!”
“Thank you for coming to see me, Anne.”
“How could I not?” Anne was arch. “Katherine, you have spent close to a year with one of the most dangerous—and reputedly the most virile—of men! And you have followed him here despite your knowing the reception you would meet!”
