She clung to him, burying her face in his jerkin. She was picturing his young healthy body in chains; he was seeing her taken from him to be given to some nobleman whom they would consider worthy to be her husband. Fear gave a new savor to their passion, and they did not care in those few moments of recklessness whether they were discovered or not. Catherine had ever been the slave of the moment; Derham was single-minded as a drone in his hymeneal flight; death was no deterrent to desire.
The moment passed, and Catherine opened her eyes to stare at the roof of branches, and her hand touched the cold grass which was her bed.
“Francis...I am so frightened.”
He stroked her auburn hair that was turning red because the sun was glinting through the leaves of the fruit tree onto it.
“Do not be, Catherine.”
“But they know, Francis. They know!”
Now he seemed to feel cold steel at his throat. What would the Norfolks do to one who had seduced a daughter of their house? Assuredly they would decide he was not worthy to live. One night at dusk, as he came into this very orchard, arms mayhap would seize him. There would be a blow on the head, followed by a second blow to make sure life was extinct, and then the soft sound of displaced water and the ripples would be visible on the surface of the river at the spot where his body had fallen into it. Or would it be a charge of treason? It was simple enough for the Norfolks to find a poor man guilty of treason. The Tower...the dreaded Tower! Confinement to one who was ever active! Living a life in one small cell when one’s spirit was adventurous; one’s limbs which were never happy unless active, in heavy chains.
“You must fly from here,” said Catherine.
“Thou wouldst have me leave thee?”
“I shall die of sorrow, but I would not have them hurt thee. I would not have thee remember this love between us with aught but the utmost delight.”
“I could never think on it but with delight.”
She sat up, listening. “Methought I heard...”
“Catherine! Catherine Howard!” It was the voice of Mistress Baskerville calling her.
“You must go at once!” cried Catherine in panic. “You must leave Lambeth. You must leave London.”
“And leave you! You know not what you ask!”
“Do I not! An you lose me, do I not lose you? But I would rather not keep you with me if it means that they will take you. Francis, terrible things happen to men in the Tower of London, and I fear for you.”
“Catherine!” called Mistress Baskerville. “Come here, Catherine!”
Her eyes entreated him to go, but he would not release her.
“I cannot leave you!” he insisted.
“I will come with you.”
“We should then be discovered at once.”
“An you took me,” she said sagely, “they would indeed find us. They would search for us and bring me back, and oh, Francis, what would they do to you?”
Mistress Baskerville was all but upon them.
“I will go to her,” said Catherine.
“And I will wait here until you come back to me.”
“Nay, nay! Go now, Francis. Do not wait. Something tells me each moment is precious.”
They embraced; they kissed long and brokenheartedly.
“I shall wait here awhile and hope that you will come back to me, Catherine,” he said. “I cannot go until we are certain this thing has come to pass.”
Catherine left him and ran to Mistress Baskerville.
“What is it?” asked Catherine.
“Her Grace wants you to go to her at once...you and Derham. She is wellnigh mad with rage. She has had a whip brought to her. Some of us have been questioned. I heard Jane Acworth crying in her room. I believe she has been whipped...and it is all about you and Derham.”
Catherine said: “What do you think they will do to Derham?”
“I know not. It is a matter of which one can only guess. They are saying he deserves to die.”
Catherine’s teeth began to chatter. “Please help me,” she pleaded. “Wait here one moment. Will you give me one last moment with him?”
The girl looked over her shoulder. “What if we are watched?”
“Please!” cried Catherine. “’One moment....Stay here....Call my name. Pretend that you are still looking for me. I swear I will be with you after one short minute.”
She ran through the trees to Derham. “It is all true!” she cried. “They will kill thee, Francis. Please go....Go now!”
He was thoroughly alarmed now, knowing that she did not speak idly. He kissed her again, played with the idea of taking her with him, knew the folly of that, guessing what hardships she would have to face. He must leave her; that was common sense; for if he disappeared they might not try very hard to find him, preferring to let the matter
