In the Tudor Court Collection. Amanda McCabe
are anxious about her, are you not?’
‘Yes—but I do not like to leave you, Kathryn. I know that Signor Santorini will be away for two days…’ Veronique was clearly uncertain and anxious, worried by the letter she had received.
‘You must go,’ Kathryn said. ‘Do not fear that I shall be lonely. I have Maria for company—and Elizabeta has promised that she will come this afternoon.’
‘Are you sure that you do not mind?’
‘You must go,’ Kathryn insisted with a smile. ‘Tell me, have you money for your journey?’
‘Yes—Signor Santorini has been more than generous. I shall return as soon as I am able, Kathryn.’ Veronique was upset, clearly torn between her sister and her duty to Kathryn.
‘Take a few days to stay with your sister,’ Kathryn said and kissed her cheek. ‘Go now, and do not feel guilty. I shall be perfectly all right.’
She smiled as the older woman hurried away. She liked the kindly Frenchwoman, but she would not be lonely. Maria and Elizabeta would keep her company until Lorenzo returned. Besides, she had many new books to read and she enjoyed walking in her garden.
Kathryn was sitting alone in the salon that looked out to the garden when Maria came to her a little later that day. She looked at her awkwardly, standing with her hands clasped in front of her, an expression of contrition on her lovely face.
‘I have come to beg your pardon,’ Maria said. ‘What I said to you earlier was unforgivable. You must know I did not mean it.’
‘I know that you did not,’ Kathryn said with a smile of forgiveness. She understood what it was to be unhappy and could feel Maria’s distress. ‘Sometimes we all say things that we do not mean. I am sorry that you must return to Spain, Maria, but I am sure that once you are home you will be much happier. Your father will not be ashamed of you—why should he?’
Maria looked down at her shoes. ‘He is so strict and not always kind to me, Kathryn. I have never been as happy as I am here with you. Please do not send me away. If you asked it of him, Lorenzo would not make me go home.’
‘My husband is right,’ Kathryn said, knowing that she must be firm. Maria could not stay with them for ever. ‘It would not be kind to keep you with us for always. If you return home you will find a husband to—’
‘I do not wish to marry!’ Maria’s head came up and for a moment her eyes blazed with anger. ‘But if you say I must go, then I have no choice.’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘Only let me stay with you until after Christ’s birthday, I beg you.’
‘I shall ask Lorenzo if you may stay a little longer,’ Kathryn said, ‘though I cannot promise that he will relent. Now, sit with me and I shall order refreshments for us both. It is a lovely day and we should not waste it in argument.’
‘Let me order them for you,’ Maria said. ‘If I try harder to please, perhaps you will allow me to stay.’
Kathryn frowned over the book she had been reading as Maria went into the house. Was she being unkind to let Lorenzo send the girl home to her father? If he was very strict, he might make her life miserable if he considered that she had disgraced him. And yet, would he have gone to so much trouble to get her back, only to shut her in a nunnery? It did not seem likely and Kathryn could not truly understand why Maria did not want to go home. Had she been in her position she would have wanted to be restored to her family.
For a moment she thought about Lady Mary and Lord Mountfitchet. As yet there was no news of them and she could not help worrying that they might have been killed when the Turks invaded the island of Cyprus. Surely if they were alive they would have found a way to let Lorenzo know? Yet she would cling to hope for a little longer, for, as Lorenzo said, it took so long for letters to be delivered in these dangerous times.
She looked up as Maria returned, carrying a tray of drinks and the little almond cakes that Kathryn was so partial to and which their cook made so well. Maria set the tray down and then poured a drink for herself and Kathryn, offering her the plates of sweetmeats.
‘I love these sweetmeats,’ she said, taking two for herself and popping one in her mouth. ‘We had them in the harem, or very similar ones, and they were always so delicious.’
Kathryn took the cake nearest to her and bit into it. It was very sweet, but the whole almond on top seemed to be bitter. She placed it on the table and took another, which was much nicer.
‘Was something wrong with that one?’ Maria asked.
‘The almond was bitter,’ Kathryn told her.
‘Oh, yes, it does happen sometimes,’ Maria said. ‘But do have another, Kathryn. They are so delicious—try this sort, they are softer and very sweet.’
Kathryn tried the one she indicated, biting into the soft sweetmeat and chewing it with some pleasure. Just as she swallowed it she tasted a little bitterness and took a long drink of her wine to wash it down. She pushed the plate of cakes away from her. Something must be wrong with the almonds the cook had used for these cakes.
Maria’s hand hovered over the cakes, choosing with care. She ate three more with every evidence of enjoying them and finished her wine.
‘Would you mind if I went to Isabella’s house this afternoon?’ she said. ‘She asked me to visit her yesterday and I said that I would if you did not need me.’
‘Of course you may go,’ Kathryn said. ‘Elizabeta said that she might call so I shall stay here—but you should take one of the servants with you. It is safer if you do not walk alone, Maria.’
‘Yes, of course,’ the Spanish girl said. ‘You must not worry about me, Kathryn. I shall be perfectly all right.’ Her face was pale but proud, as if she were struggling to be brave.
‘And you must not worry, Maria,’ Kathryn said. ‘I am sure your father loves you and he will be only too pleased to have you home.’
‘Perhaps you are right,’ Maria said and lowered her eyes. She stood up, keeping her head downcast. ‘If you will excuse me, I believe I shall go up and get ready for my visit with Isabella.’
‘Yes, of course,’ Kathryn said, watching as the girl walked away, her head still downcast. Was she being unkind to let Lorenzo send her home?
It was when she was sitting with Elizabeta that afternoon that Kathryn felt the pain in her stomach. At first it was slight and caused her to flinch, but then, as it struck again, she gave a cry and doubled over.
‘What is wrong?’ Elizabeta asked. ‘Are you ill, Kathryn?’
‘Pain…’ Kathryn gasped. ‘I feel terrible…’ She got to her feet, hurrying to the shrubbery where she vomited. Her head was spinning and she swayed as the ground seemed to come rushing up to meet her. She might have fainted if Elizabeta had not come to her, steadying her as she vomited twice more. ‘I am so sorry…’
‘There is no need to apologise,’ Elizabeta said, looking at her anxiously. ‘Have you been feeling ill long?’
‘I felt well first thing this morning, but it has been building up since then—not pain, just an uncomfortable feeling in my stomach.’
‘What have you eaten?’ Elizabeta asked as Kathryn moaned and clutched at her stomach again. ‘I think we should send for the physician at once. Where is Lorenzo?’
‘He had to leave for two days on business,’ Kathryn replied as Elizabeta helped her back to her seat. ‘I do feel very ill—perhaps I should go up to my room?’
‘I shall help you,’ Elizabeta said, looking at her anxiously. ‘And the physician must be summoned. I do not like this, Kathryn. I think you must have eaten something that disagreed with you.’
‘I have eaten very little today other than bread, cheese and fruit,’ Kathryn said. ‘Oh, there were