In the Tudor Court Collection. Amanda McCabe
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perhaps,’ he agreed. ‘We shall forget her, Kathryn. She is not worth wasting our breath or our thoughts on. When she is found, she will be dealt with appropriately.’
‘You will not be too severe?’ Kathryn looked at him anxiously. ‘She has done terrible things, but I would not have her punished beyond what is right.’
‘Her punishment according to the law would at the least be imprisonment, and perhaps a flogging.’
‘No! That is too harsh,’ Kathryn said. ‘Can you not simply return her to her father?’
‘Is that what you want?’
‘Yes, I think so. I know what she did was wrong, but I am well again, and I could not live with her death on my conscience.’
‘Very well,’ Lorenzo said. ‘It seems that I must give way, my love, though against my better judgement. Yet she shall be returned to her father and he shall be her judge, for I shall tell him of her behaviour while our guest. And now we shall talk of her no more. She is not important.’
‘Tell me where we are going this evening?’ Kathryn said. It was the first time that she had been out in a week and he had not told her where they were going, only that it was to be a surprise.
‘You must wait in patience, Madonna,’ he told her and bent to kiss her lightly on the mouth. ‘You will see in a few hours and until then it shall be a secret.’
The secret turned out to be a huge masque ball, given in her honour and attended by all their friends. When Kathryn prepared for the evening she was given a new gown in a beautiful green silk; it had full panniers over a petticoat of a pale ivory silk, which was embroidered with appliqué and brilliants. Her cloak was of matching velvet, her mask a delicate silver thing that made her mouth look soft and kissable.
Lorenzo was wearing his customary black, though the sleeves were slashed with green silk to match her gown. He kissed her before they left, giving her a necklet of beautiful emeralds that sat like a little collar on her slender throat.
‘It is lovely, Lorenzo. You spoil me.’ She gazed up at him and he thought that the shine in her eyes put the jewels to shame.
‘You have become very precious to me,’ he told her in a voice that made her tremble inside. ‘When I thought that I might lose you I realised that my life would be empty without you. I have not wanted to care for you so much, Kathryn, but I believe that I do…perhaps more than I had thought.’
‘My love…’ Kathryn’s eyes were bright with tears, though she blinked them away. She had never thought to hear such words from him and they filled her with emotion. She had been content enough to be his wife and love him, but to have his love would be wonderful.
He smiled at her, kissing her hand, and then leading her out into the warm night. ‘Come, Kathryn, our friends will be waiting for us.’
It was a perfect evening. Everyone was so kind to her, kissing her and telling her how much they loved her and how distressed they had been by what had happened to her. It seemed that none of them had truly liked Maria, and most had not trusted her.
‘Lorenzo should never have let her stay,’ Elizabeta said. It was at her house the party was being held, and she made a great fuss of Kathryn. ‘I hope we shall remain friends when you return to Venice,’ she told her. ‘Perhaps you will invite me to stay with you sometimes.’
‘I should like that very much,’ Kathryn told her. ‘I do not think Lorenzo can spare the time to take me home yet, but of course we shall go one day.’ She thought she would miss the friends she had made in Rome, but she would make more in Venice and Lorenzo was talking of buying a summer villa in Rome so that they might spend some time here each year.
It seemed to Kathryn that night that she had never been as happy as she was then. She danced every dance, and most of them with Lorenzo. He seemed a different person, the grave looks and cold eyes banished as if they had never been. Indeed, several of his friends remarked on it to Kathryn, telling her that marriage must suit him for he had never been as relaxed and apparently happy as he now was.
‘I think that you have worked a miracle, Kathryn,’ Paolo told her. ‘Or perhaps it is love?’
Perhaps it was love. Kathryn could not have wished for a more attentive or generous husband, and the evening passed in a haze of pleasure. It seemed that she had everything that she had ever dreamed of, her happiness complete.
It was very late when they left the celebrations. The torches had burned low in their sconces and there was very little light for clouds obscured the moon. As they emerged into the street, they met a man who was about to knock at the door and Lorenzo gave a cry of pleasure.
‘Michael! It is good to see you back, my friend. How is your father?’
‘Much better,’ Michael said, smiling oddly. ‘He lectured me about finding myself a wife—and that means he is well again.’
Lorenzo laughed. ‘We have missed you. Will you not return to the house with us? We have much to discuss.’
‘It was for this purpose that I came here tonight,’ Michael said and he looked at Kathryn, smiling at her. ‘I have good news, Kathryn. A letter from Lord Mountfitchet.’
‘From Uncle Charles?’ Kathryn felt the sting of tears behind her eyes. She had thought her happiness could not be bettered, but this news was wonderful. ‘Oh, that is good news indeed. Is he well—and Lady Mary?’
‘Yes, they are well. I thought it best to open the letter, though it was addressed to you, Lorenzo. It seems that Lady Mary was taken ill on the journey and Lord Mountfitchet ordered his ship to put into Sicily. They never got as far as Cyprus. When they heard of the invasion they decided to stay where they were for the time being. Because of the war, it was difficult to send letters, and Lady Mary was quite ill for a while. When Lord Mountfitchet was able to send a letter, he was not sure where you would be, so he sent it to Venice.’
‘That is truly good news,’ Lorenzo said. ‘I am so pleased to—’
‘My God!’ Michael cried and suddenly gave him a great shove to one side. ‘What do you think you are doing?’
Kathryn screamed as she realised that Michael had seen what neither she nor Lorenzo had noticed. A woman had come up upon them out of the shadows and she had a knife with a long thin blade, which she had attempted to plunge into Lorenzo’s back. Because of Michael’s swift action she had missed her target, but she was screaming wildly, out of control as she turned her vicious blade on the man who had thwarted her evil intent.
‘I shall kill him!’ Maria screamed. ‘He took me from the man I loved. I was to have been Rachid’s wife. When he is dead, Rachid will take me back again.’
Michael struggled with her, but somehow her blade struck him in the chest and he gave a cry of pain, staggering back as the blood spurted. Lorenzo caught Maria’s arm as she attempted to strike again, twisting it back so that she screamed with pain this time and the knife fell to the floor. He kicked it away, jerking her arm up so that she was unable to fight him, and she went limp in his grasp.
Kathryn was bending over Michael as he clutched at his chest, and now people were spilling out of Elizabeta’s house, alarmed by the noise and Maria’s screaming.
‘Take the bitch,’ Lorenzo commanded as some of his men came running out of the shadows. ‘We shall deal with her later. How is he, Kathryn?’ He looked down at Michael as she cradled him in her arms.
‘I fear he is in a bad way,’ Kathryn said, her cheeks pale from shock. ‘The wound went deep and he is bleeding badly’
‘Bring him into the house,’ Elizabeta’s voice commanded. ‘My servants shall go for the physician at once and we shall do what we can for him.’
Kathryn watched as Michael was lifted and carried into the house. Lorenzo followed as she did, feeling bewildered amongst all the consternation. Everyone