Free Katherine by Anya Seton Page A

preferred to become the Duke's retainer, well pleased that his feudal lord should also be the youth he had campaigned with in Scotland.
    Though the intervening years had made many changes in John of Gaunt's personal life, for he had married the Lady Blanche and thereby become the wealthiest man in the land, Hugh's own interests remained unchanged. He fought when there was war, and when there was not he pursued various private quarrels, and hunted. Hawking bored him with its elaborate ritual of falconry, for he liked direct combat and a dangerous opponent. The wild stag and the wild boar were the quarries he liked best to pursue through the dense forests. He was skilled at throwing the spear and could handle the longbow as well as any of the King's yeomen, but in close fighting he was supreme.
    It was said of him that he had strangled a wolf with his bare hands in the wilds of Yorkshire, and that it was the wolf's fangs which had laid open his cheek and puckered it into the jagged scar, but nobody knew for certain. The Duke's retinue now numbered over two hundred barons, knights and squires, and a man so morose and uncourtly as Hugh excited little curiosity amongst his fellows. They disliked him and let him alone.
    But when his extraordinary wish to marry the little de Roet became known, he inspired universal interest at last.
    Katherine's frantic protests and tears were of no avail against Hugh's determination and everyone else's insistence that she had stumbled into unbelievable luck.
    The Queen's ladies said it, even Alice Perrers said it, and Philippa scolded morning, noon and night.
    "God's nails, you little dolt," Philippa cried, "you should be down on your knees thanking the Blessed Virgin and Saint Catherine, instead of mewling and cowering like a frightened rabbit. My God, you'll be Lady Katherine with your own manor and serfs, and a husband who seems to dote on you as well!"
    "I can't, I can't. I loathe him," Katherine wailed.
    "Fiddle-faddle!" snapped Philippa, whose natural envy increased her anger. "You'll get over it. Besides he won't be around to bother you much. He'll soon be off with the Duke fighting in Castile."
    This was pale comfort but there was little Katherine could do except plead illness, hide in the solar and avoid seeing Hugh.
    The Lady Blanche on hearing of the girl's aversion to the marriage had broached the matter to her husband and found him unexpectedly obdurate and impatient. "Of course Swynford's a fool to take her. I believe he could have had that Torksey heiress whose lands adjoin his, but I think he is bewitched. Since he lusts so for her, let him have the silly burde."
    "You dislike her?" Blanche was puzzled by his vehemence. "I find her quite charming. I remember her father, a gallant soldier. When I was a child he once brought me a little carved box from Bruges."
    "I don't dislike the girl. Why should I? I dislike wasting time or thought on such a trivial matter when we're going to war. And the sooner they marry the better, since Swynford will sail for Aquitaine this summer. He might as well beget an heir before he goes."
    Blanche nodded. She was no more sentimental about marriage than anyone else, but she was sorry for Katherine and sent a page over with a generous present to help alleviate the girl's unhappiness.
    Katherine was alone now because it was the day of the final tournament, and everyone in the castle except the sick Queen and the scullions had gone down to the lists. Though the ladies had urged her and Philippa had commanded, Katherine, who three days ago had so joyously looked forward to this spectacle, would not go.
    She was fifteen and incapable of self-analysis. She knew only that this gorgeous new world, at first so entrancing, had resolved itself into a chaotic mass of helplessness and fears, against which she struggled blindly, finding no weapon but evasion. She was much frightened of meeting Hugh again, but vaguely she knew too that this unhappiness was reinforced by