“It would be an honor.” William was surprised by how normal his voice sounded.
“Only one night?” Catherine asked.
“I am sorry, my dear Kate,” Prince Harry said, patting her hand on his arm, “but you know my time is not my own.”
My dear Kate?The prince was talking to him again, but William could barely take in the words.My dear Kate?
“The king wishes to know whether there have been rebel attacks in the area since your arrival at Ross Castle.”
He must have mumbled something appropriate, for the prince seemed satisfied.
William narrowed his eyes at Catherine. She was looking radiant in a close-fitting, rose-colored silk gown that flowed gracefully as she walked. Had she dressed with particular care today? The prince had given no advance warning of his visit. At least not to William.
Once inside the keep, Catherine sent servants scurrying in every direction to prepare rooms and refreshments. As soon as the prince excused himself to change, William took his wife by the arm. He marched her into a passage just outside the hall, where he could speak with her in private.
“You appear to know the prince quite well,” he said in a harsh whisper.
“We have known each other all our lives,” Catherine said, surprise in her voice. “You must know he spent his early years close by, at Monmouth Castle. Our mothers were close friends.”
“Yes, of course,” he said, feeling foolish.
“William, I must speak with the cook now,” she said, clearly anxious to get back to her duties.
He could think of nothing else to say, so he let her go. At least she had called him “William” for once.
At supper, the prince chose to sit between William and his wife. And William chose to refrain from pushing his royal arse onto the floor. It annoyed him further to see what the kitchen, under his wife’s direction, had produced on such short notice for their royal guest.
William was heaping pheasant onto his trencher when he became aware that the eyes of everyone at the table were on him.
“What is your opinion?” the prince asked, leaning forward and looking at him expectantly. “Will they come this summer?”
Fortunately, it was easy to guess what the prince was asking. The question was on everyone’s lips: Would the French send an army to support the Welsh?
“I cannot say,” William said, shrugging a shoulder, “but we must be prepared for it.”
“Aye, we must!” Without pausing, the prince began to speculate as to where the French might land their forces. Then he launched into a discussion of how the English could then drive them out of Wales.
William should be glad for the opportunity to discuss military strategy with Prince Harry. After all, the prince was in command of all English forces fighting the Welsh. The young man showed such remarkable talent for military command that Parliament had given him the responsibility two years ago, at the age of sixteen.
Tonight, however, William did not care about a French invasion. To hell with the damned French.
As soon as the nursemaid took Jamie up to bed, William began to calculate how many hours before he could follow with Catherine. When the prince rose to his feet, he felt hopeful.
“May I take your wife for a walk in the garden?” The prince was already holding his arm out to Catherine as he asked the question.
William could not very well tell the heir to the throne he would rather have a dagger twisted in his gut. If he gave his consent without much grace, the prince did not seem to notice.
Catherine took great solace in having even a short visit with her friend. Though Harry had an air of authority about him now, she could still see in him the boy who pulled her hair and slipped beetles down her back. Despite his annoying pranks, they had always been close.
She was glad Harry had those early years running wild at Monmouth, before his father usurped the throne. Being heir to the throne, especially in such troubled times, was a heavy burden.
“You make a fine prince, dear Harry,” she said, squeezing his arm as they left the hall. “One day, you will make an even finer king.”
“God grant my father many years,” Harry murmured.
They sat on a bench in the garden to talk.
“You should not have taken the risks you did,” he said, shaking his head.
