Katherine stood, took a deep breath, and shoved her thoughts aside. The queen was waiting. “Helen, I must hurry, please button my gown and help me with my hair.”
As Helen obeyed, Katherine stared at the folded white lace. Helen finished with her gown and quickly combed and pinned up her hair. Finally she was coiffed, and Helen went and opened the door for her.
But Katherine did not follow. Instead, she picked up a small, old-fashioned ivory-handled dagger, one meant to be worn on her girdle as decoration rather than to be used for eating, and she cut off a long, narrow strip of the material. Facing a looking glass above the table, she tucked the lace into her bodice, so it peeked over the neckline of her gown. Then she turned and moved past Helen, her stride quickening as she went to meet the queen.
Katherine’s heart sank when the queen glowered at her and ordered everyone out of the antechamber. In a flash, Katherine recalled Leicester dancing with her, then forcing her from the dining hall and into a secluded alcove so he could proposition her. Her face grew hot. Her stomach churned with fear and dread. “Come here,” the queen snapped when they were alone.
Katherine approached, feeling faint.
“Have you become a wanton, Mistress FitzGerald?”
Her eyes widened. “I…I beg your pardon?”
“Is not the attention of a single male enough?”
Katherine swallowed. “Your Majesty, I am not quite sure…”
“I saw you with Lord Robert last night!” The queen was standing and in a rage.
“We…only danced,” Katherine cringed.
“So it was to dance that he took you from Our presence?”
Katherine could not respond, recalling Leicester’s mouth upon her throat, his hands within her bodice. “I do n-not want his attentions, Your Majesty,” she said, her voice shaking.
“No? Is it Sir John Hawke, then, that you prefer—or Liam O’Neill?”
Katherine felt faint. “I…what…”
“Did the pirate visit you last night or not?” the queen demanded.
Katherine inhaled. How could the queen know?Helen. Helen must have seen them. Her father had been right—Helen was a spy. Somehow, she managed to lift her chin high. “Yes.”
The queen’s brows rose. “So you confess to a clandestine meeting in your chamber?”
Katherine nodded.
The queen’s hand smacked sharply across Katherine’s cheek. Katherine cried out in pain, for the queen wore numerous rings, and one of them had grazed her. She dared not retreat, however, or even touch her throbbing, scratched cheek. “How dare you carry on like a strumpet in Our court!”
Katherine said nothing, tears filling her eyes. But she would not cry. This was the price one paid for sinful, wanton behavior.
“Your mother would be ashamed of you,” Elizabeth said. “And at leastshehad the sense to cavort with the heir to an earldom!”
Katherine bowed her head. There was not a single word she could speak in her own defense.
“Do you really think to marry, girl—or to be a slut?” When Katherine did not answer, the queen barked, “Well?”
Katherine looked up. “I w-want to marry.”
“So Ormond says.” The queen stared at her, less furious now. “We took you in because We loved your mother, and We feel somewhat responsible for you. Ormond has apparently decided to champion your cause, as well. He has petitioned Us to allow you to marry despite your father’s disgrace. We have been thinking on it, but now…We do not know.”
Katherine was frozen with horror. Suddenly it seemed that she might gain all that she dreamed of—and she dared not lose the chance she wished for now. “Your Majesty…”
“Silence! How can We find you a decent husband if you have not a whit of value left—if you have not even your chastity—if you carry another man’s child?”
Katherine licked her lips. “I do not c-carry his ch-child.”
“Liam O’Neill is an expert cocksman. Do not tell me he is impotent! Do not dissemble now!”
