“Hurry then!” Dona Elvira commanded. “And have Puebla brought to me immediately. I must stop the spread of this lie.”

Her husband retreated in haste, leaving Dona Elvira to pace up and down the apartment.

She was certain that Katharine was still a virgin. She would have known if it had been otherwise. There had been only the wedding night when they had been together, and they were both too young, too inexperienced…Beside, the King had made his wishes known.

If what that miserable Puebla was saying was true, if Katharine carried a child within her, then she would no longer be exiled to Durham House; she would be at Court, and that would be the end of the rule of Dona Elvira.

“She is a virgin,” she cried aloud. “Of course she is. I would swear to it. And if necessary there could be an examination.”

* * *

DR. DE PUEBLA STOOD before Dona Elvira and her husband. He was a little disturbed by the fury of the woman. She was formidable, and moreover he knew that Queen Isabella regarded her highly.

“I want to know,” she shouted, “why you have dared to tell this lie to members of the Council here, and write it to the Sovereigns.”

“What lie is this?”

“You have declared that the marriage was consummated. Where were you on the wedding night, Dr. de Puebla? Peering through the bed curtains?”

“I have it on good authority that the marriage was consummated, Dona Elvira.”

“On whose authority?”

“On that of the Infanta’s confessor.”

“Geraldini!” Elvira spat out the word. “That upstart!”

“He assured me that the marriage had been consummated and that there was hope of issue.”

“How had he come into possession of such knowledge?”

“Presumably the Infanta had confessed this to him.”

“He lies. One moment.” Elvira turned to her husband. “Send for Geraldini,” she commanded.

In a few minutes the priest joined them. He was a little pale; like everyone in the household he dreaded the fury of Dona Elvira.

“So,” cried Elvira, “you have informed Dr. de Puebla that the marriage between our Infanta and the Prince of Wales was consummated, and that England may shortly expect an heir.”

Geraldini was silent, his eyes downcast.

“Answer me!” shouted Elvira.

“I…I did verily believe…”

“You verily believed indeed! You verily guessed. You fool! Do you dare then dabble in matters which are so far above you! You should be in your monastery, babbling your prayers in your lonely cell. Such as you have no place in Court circles. Confess that the Infanta never told you that the marriage was consummated!”

“She…she did not tell me, Dona Elvira.”

“Yet you dared tell Dr. de Puebla that you knew this to be so!”

“I thought…”

“I know! You verily believed. You knew nothing. Get out of my sight before I order you to be whipped. Begone…quickly. Idiot! Knave!”

Geraldini was relieved to escape.

As soon as he had gone Elvira turned to Puebla. “You see what this meddling has done. If you wish to know anything concerning the Infanta, you must come to me. There is only one thing to be done. You agree now that this man Geraldini has led you completely astray?”

“I do,” said Puebla.

“Then you should write to the Sovereigns immediately, telling them that there is no truth in the news contained in your previous document. If you are quick, you may prevent that first letter from reaching their Highnesses. Let us pray that the tides are not favorable for a few hours. Go at once and set right this matter.”

Although Puebla resented her high-handed manner, he could not but agree that he must do as she said; and he was indeed eager to write to the Sovereigns, rectifying his mistake.

He bowed himself out and set about the task immediately.

When she was alone with her husband Dona Elvira sat at her table and began to write. She addressed her letter to Her Highness Queen Isabella, and she told of the mischief Father Alessandro Geraldini had wrought against the Infanta. She added that she believed Don Pedro de Ayala’s presence in England to be no longer necessary to the welfare of Spain. She hesitated, considering Puebla. He had been docile enough and ready to admit his mistake. She decided that she might be served worse by any other ambassador the Sovereigns saw fit to send. Too many complaints could give the impression that she was hard to please. If because of this matter she could rid the household of Geraldini she would be satisfied.

As she sealed the letter, she remembered that other letter which had angered her before she heard of Geraldini’s gossip.

She took it up and thrust it into her husband’s hands.

“Read that,” she said.

He read it. “But you had decided…” he began.

She cut him short. “I wish Inigo to see this. Have him brought here immediately, but first have this letter dispatched to the Sovereigns. I should like it to reach them if possible before they receive Puebla’s.”

Don Pedro Manrique obeyed her as, during their married life, he had grown accustomed to; and in a short time he returned to her with their son.

“Ah, Inigo,” she said, “did I not tell you that I had decided a match with Maria de Rojas would be advantageous to you?”

“You did, Mother.”

“Well then, perhaps you would be interested to read this letter which the Infanta has written to her parents. It is a plea that they should give their consent to the marriage of Maria de Rojas with an Englishman and provide her with a dowry.”

“But, Mother, you…”

“Read it,” she snapped.

Young Inigo frowned as he read. He felt himself flushing. It was not that he was so eager for marriage with Maria, but that he feared his mother’s wrath, and it seemed as though she were ready to blame him—though he could not quite understand why.

“You have finished it?” She took it from him. “We must not allow others to step ahead of us and snatch our prizes from under our noses, must we?”

“No, Mother. But she wishes to marry the Englishman, and the Infanta supports her.”

“It would appear so.” Elvira was thoughtful. “We shall do nothing yet.”

“But in the meantime the Sovereigns may provide the dowry and the consent.”

“Why should they,” said Elvira, “if they do not know it has been asked for?”

“But it is asked for in the Infanta’s letter,” her husband pointed out.

Elvira laughed and held the letter in the flame of the candle.

The Passing of Elizabeth of York

THE LONG DAYS OF SPRING AND SUMMER PASSED uneventfully for Katharine. Always she was awaiting the summons to return home.

This did not come, although others had been summoned back to Spain. One was Father Alessandro Geraldini; another was Don Pedro de Ayala.

Dona Elvira had explained their departure to Katharine. Don Pedro de Ayala, she said, was unworthy to represent Spain in England. He led too carnal a life for an ambassador, and a bishop at that. As for Geraldini, he had whispered slander against the Infanta herself, and for such she had demanded his recall.

“Her Highness your mother declares that he is indeed unworthy to remain a member of your household. I thank the saints that I was shown his perfidy in time.”

“What did he say of me?” Katharine wanted to know.

“That you were with child.”

Katharine flushed scarlet at the suggestion, and Elvira felt very confident that, if it should ever come to the point when there must be an examination, her pronouncement would be vindicated.

“I had hoped my mother would send for me,” said Katharine mournfully.

Elvira shook her head. “My dear Highness, it is almost certain that there will be another marriage for you in England. Had you forgotten that the King has another son?”

“Henry!” she whispered; and she thought of the bold boy who had led her to the altar where Arthur had been waiting for her.