Jane said she did not, and a slap on her cheek told her that she had better think again; but Jane Acworth, seeing Catherine’s and Derham’s names on that paper, was not going to commit herself. The writing, she said, was doubtless disguised, and she knew it not.
“Get you gone then!” said the Duchess; and left alone once more began her pacing up and down. What would this mean? Her granddaughter, Catherine Howard, had been seduced by a young man, who, though of good family, being a connection of the Howards, was but a member of an obscure branch of theirs. Catherine, for all her illiteracy, for all that she had been allowed to run wild during her childhood, was yet the daughter of Lord Edmund Howard; and she had been so reckless and foolish, that she had doubtless ruined her chances of making a good marriage.
“The little slut!” whispered the Duchess. “To have that young man in her bed! This will cost him his life! And her...and her...” The Duchess’s fingers twitched. “Let her wait till I lay hands on her. I’ll make her wish she had never been so free with Mr. Derham. I’ll make her wish she had never been born. After all my care of her. . . ! I always told myself there was a harlot in Catherine Howard!”
Jane Acworth sought Catherine Howard and found her on the point of going to the orchard to meet Derham.
“A terrible thing has happened,” said Jane. “I would not care to be in your shoes!”
“What mean you, Jane?”
“Someone has written to Her Grace, telling her what you and Derham are about.”
Catherine turned pale.
“No!”
“Indeed yes! Her Grace is in a fury. She showed me the letter and asked if I knew the handwriting. I swore I did not, nor could I be sure, but to my mind...”
“Mary Lassells!” whispered Catherine.
“I could not swear, but methought. Let us not waste time. What do you think is going to happen to you and Derham and to us all?”
“I dare not think.”
“We shall all be brought into this. I doubt not but that this is the end of our pleasant days and nights. The Duchess cannot ignore this, much as she may wish to do. I would not be you, Catherine Howard; and most assuredly I would not be Derham.”
“What dost think they will do to him?”
“I could not say. I could only guess. They will say what he has done to you is criminal. Mayhap he will go to the Tower. Oh, no, it will not be the block for him, because then it would be known that he had seduced Catherine Howard. He would be taken to the dungeons and allowed to rot in his chains, or perhaps be tortured to death. The Howards are powerful, and I would not be in the shoes of one who had seduced a member of their house!”
“Please say no more. I must go!”
“Yes. Go and warn Derham. He must not stay here to be arrested and committed to the Tower.”
Fear made Catherine fleet; tears gushed from her eyes and her childish mouth was trembling; she could not shut from her mind terrible pictures of Francis in the Tower, groaning in his chains, dying a lingering death for her sake.
He was waiting in the orchard.
“Catherine!” he cried on seeing her. “What ails thee, Catherine?”
“You must fly,” she told him incoherently. “You must wait for nothing. Someone has written to Her Grace, and you will be sent to the Tower.”
He turned pale. “Catherine! Catherine! Where heard you this?”
“Jane Acworth has seen the letter. Her Grace sent for her that she might tell her who wrote it. It was there...all about
Bold and reckless, very much in love with Catherine, he wished to thrust such unpleasantness aside. He could not fly, and leave Catherine?
“Dost think I would ever leave thee?”
“I could not bear that they should take thee to the Tower.”
“Bah!” he said. “What have we done? Are we not married—husband and wife?”
“They would not allow that to be.”
“And could they help it? We are! That is good enough for me.”
He put his arms about her and kissed her, and Catherine kissed him in such desire that was nonetheless urgent because danger threatened, but all the more insistent. She took his hand and ran with him into that part of the orchard where the trees grew thickest.
“I would put as far between us and my grandmother as possible,” she told him.
He said: “Catherine, thou hast let them frighten thee.”
She answered; “It is not without cause.” She took his face into her hand and kissed his lips. “I fear I shall not see thee for a long time, Francis.”
“What!” he cried, throwing himself onto the grass and pulling her down beside him. “Dost think aught could keep me from thee?”
“There is that in me that would send thee from me,” she sighed, “and that is my love for thee.”
