Free Epitaph for Three Women by Jean Plaidy

It might even have strengthened the bond between himself and Philip of Burgundy.

Chapter III
A SCOTTISH ROMANCE
    L IFE was pleasant at Windsor. Katherine knew that it could not go on like that. She would not be allowed to keep her baby to herself and live apart from ceremony. There had already been one occasion when she had had to take Henry to London for the meeting of the Parliament. So ironical it had seemed to have the King present, arriving in his mother’s arms, lying there looking with interest at those around him, laughing suddenly as though he found the proceedings ridiculous and then dropping off to sleep as if he found it after all unworthy of further attention.
    How the people had cheered as she had ridden through the streets seated on a kind of moving throne drawn by white horses. Afterwards she had sat with her baby on her knees while the lords came up one by one to salute him, and they all said he had behaved with becoming gravity which was an indication of future wisdom.
    But how glad she had been to come back to Windsor!
    Two nurses had arrived. The first was Joan Astley and the Parliament had agreed that she should have a salary of forty pounds a year which was about the same as a privy councillor for the nursing of the King of England was a task of the greatest importance. She quickly became devoted to Henry and he took to her at once.
    Then there was Dame Alice Butler who was given the same salary as Joan Astley and the same privileges including permission to chastise the royal infant if the need should arise. Katherine was thankful that this infrequently did, for Henry was a good baby – he rarely cried and he only did so when he was hungry or tired; he was contented and showed an interest in everything around him.
    Katherine felt she could safely leave the care of her child with these two women.
    Life at Windsor resembled that of a country house. There were not a great many visitors from Court. The Queen had implied that she wished to live quietly for a while as she continued to mourn her husband and her wishes so far had been respected but she feared that life would have to change in time.
    One day however James the First of Scotland arrived to take up his residence there. She had heard much of him at Windsor for the castle had been his principal residence for a good many years. At one time he had been lodged in the Tower, and later he had accompanied Henry to France; but at the same time he was the prisoner of England and would remain so until his people paid the ransom required for him.
    Katherine had expected a sullen young man. After all it might be expected that he would bear resentment towards a people who held him so long against his will. She was agreeably surprised when they met. He was some seven years older than herself – good-looking, witty, an eager conversationalist and a man who was ready to see more than one side to a question – in fact a very agreeable companion.
    There followed delightful sessions when she talked with him, his chaplain Thomas of Myrton and others of his household. In the evenings there would be music and dancing.
    He liked to talk with her of the past and contemplate what the future would be. He could remember a little of his native Scotland, though he had left it when he was ten years old and had not been back since.
    ‘Nor shall I go,’ he said, ‘until they pay the ransom for me.’
    They had much in common for they had both lived through strange childhoods. Both had had a father who had suffered from weakness, mentally and physically, although King Robert of Scotland was not mad as Charles VI had been.
    James and Katherine agreed that to be born royal was to be born to danger.
    They rode together in the great forest of Windsor; they walked in the castle gardens and she told him of those fearful days at the Hôtel de St Pol and he told her of his childhood at Dumfermline and Inverkeithing. His fears had been less horrifying than hers for he had had a strong