Two for Treason

Chapter 21 - London

The morning after her arrival in London Catherine woke early. She wanted to make sure she looked just right for her first meeting with Lady Bartholomew. After taking breakfast in the sitting room, she and Deborah took a great deal of time deciding on the right gown and putting up her hair. They finally decided on a light blue gown of muslin embroidered with flowers and butterflies. Catherine wanted to appeal to the Lady's age, while maintaining an air of elegance.

At precisely 10 o'clock a page arrived to escort Catherine to the Lady's reception room. As she walked to her rendez vous she thought, 'hehehe, my dress matches my stomach. All butterflies!' And it was true, Catherine had experience in pitched battle, but this trek to meet with another woman felt 100 times more terrifying. So much rested on her ability to convince this woman to help. She must remember to breathe and go slowly. She was tempted to blurt everything out in one shot!

By the time they reached Lady Bartholomew's rooms, Cat had managed to gain control of her features and the rumblings of her belly had subsided. The act of walking to her fate seemed to sooth her nerves. As the page knocked at the door Cat took one last long, deep breath and straightened her back.

From inside the room she heard a voice as sweet as any she had ever heard say, "Enter."

The page opened the door and announced her, "Catherine, wife of Richard of Birtley, ma'am." He bowed as she entered the room.

At first Catherine was awe-struck by the beauty of the room. Nothing at all like her sitting room, this was decorated in shades of pale blue and lavender. The settees were covered in a lovely cream damask with plump pillows of cream and blue stripes. The windows were covered by velvet curtains in a rich lavender. The longest wall was covered in a tapestry depicting a sunny garden party.

Cat looked around, entranced by the room, when her attention was caught by the woman standing in front of the unlit fireplace. She was so young, she most definitely was no older that Cat. Her beauty was breathtaking. It was no wonder Lord Bartholomew had wanted her for his own. While only of average height, she stood with the air of someone who knew her place in the world, with no doubt. Her jet-black hair was piled high on her head, with tight ringlets framing her face. She was smiling brightly, showing off perfect pearl teeth, but it was her eyes...they were of an impossible shade of grey, Cat felt like she was drowning in those eyes! The gown she wore was simple, in pale pink, there were no adornments; none were required.

The woman beamed as she strode forth, her hands outstretched to Catherine. "Welcome, my dear," she declared. She clasped Catherine's hands in hers. "Please come in and sit by me."

Catherine curtsied and said, "It is an honour to make your acquaintance, my Lady."

"Pish!" said Lady Bartholomew, waving a hand in front of her. "Acquaintance? We shall be fast friends, I am sure!" She led Cat to the settee, "Sit, please."

Catherine was charmed; if she had been asked to she might very well jump in a lake for this woman. "Lady Bartholomew, it is my great pleasure."

"Oh please do not call me that," she made a face. "Call me Rose."

"Oh Mama!" Catherine jumped at hearing the other voice. It came from the wing chair facing the fireplace. The woman stood and Cat gasped! The woman must have been, at least, 30 years-old! 'This must be the step-daughter,' Cat thought to herself. "You cannot have people calling you by your given name. It is simply not done." Cat had to work very hard not to raise her eyebrows in surprise.

This woman was the exact opposite of Lady Bartholomew. She was very tall, with beautiful flaxen hair; but that is where the beauty ended. Her face was horse-like, long and pointed. 'Are those whiskers in her chin?' Her eyes were muddy brown and her complexion ruddy.

Lady Rose replied with as much dignity as she could muster, "I do not see the need to stand on formality. If we are to be in each other's company we might just as well be comfortable with each other."

Cat noted that Lady Rose was wringing her hands together and thought, 'She is just as nervous as I am. I'm not surprised if she has to spend her time with this...woman.'

"Mathilda, this is Catherine of Birtley-"

"I know, I heard the page!" This time Cat could not help but raise her brows in surprise. 'How insufferably rude!'

"Catherine, my dear, this is my step-daughter Mathilda of Lowestoft." Catherine stood and curtsied to the older woman. Mathilda inclined her head in acknowledgement and, once again, sat in the chair. 'Damn!' thought Catherine. 'I hope she isn't around too much.'

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Unfortunately, that was just the case. Wherever Lady Rose went, so went Mathilda. Despite the ranks of courtly ladies increasing, she was still there, always close by. However, despite Mathilda's attempts to the contrary, Cat and Rose were developing a very close friendship. Cat genuinely enjoyed spending time with Rose, their time together often spent in companionable silence. They both found most of the ladies at court uninteresting and insipid. They often whispered to each other of their preferred activities...Rose also would have preferred riding her horse to London and felt confined by the regulations imposed by society.

In the evening Cat would express her frustration to Richard. "I am sure we will run out of time! I have to get an opportunity to speak to Rose alone...that odious woman is always close by!"

Richard was not making much headway either. As a simple squire he was not privy to the official activities at court. "Father is late. I worry for him." Richard was pacing, "I would have preferred to go to Nottingham with him!" His frustration and concern were plain on his face.

Catherine stood and crossed the room to him. She put her hand on his arm, "He will be here soon. I just know it." He turned to look at her and she was shocked to see how tired he looked, "Richard! How have I not noticed? You look like you haven't slept in days!"

"I haven't...not really." He sighed and turned to face Catherine. "I am very worried about Father. Vaisey is a horror...you know." Cat nodded. She could feel him starting to shake under her hand. "I love my father very much, Cat. I would be lost without him."

"Oh Richard, I know," she crooned. She wrapped her arms around his waist, 'he is so tall and strong,' she thought, 'I often forget he could be feeling the same things as me.' She put her head on his shoulder as he tipped his head to touch hers. "I am sure we would have heard something by now if anything had happened in Nottingham."

"Not if Prince John doesn't want us to hear..."

Cat leaned back in his arms and raised a hand to his cheek; she looked into his eyes, drowning in the green that was darkening as she stroked his face. He leaned down and took her mouth in a kiss.

"Harrumph!" Catherine and Richard jumped apart as Deborah made a noise. Ever the vigilant Abigail, she was determined to keep her charge chaste even if the girl didn't want her to. "Miss Catherine, it is time to prepare for supper."

Catherine squeezed his hand, gave him a quick smile and said, "He will be alright. I promise."