Jean Plaidy: Katharine, the Virgin Widow

She was not unconscious of the fact that, as a result of Juana’s madness, Ferdinand was a greater power in Spain than he would be if Juana were sound in mind and able to rule; and, since it was due to the rising power of Ferdinand that she herself was treated with more respect, she could not help reflecting sadly that they appeared to be a house divided against itself, since Juana’s misfortune could work to her, Katharine’s, good.

She was all eagerness to meet Gutierre Gomez de Fuensalida, for she would be delighted to dispense with the services of Puebla.

Her maids of honor—and Francesca de Carceres in particular—were continually complaining about the little man. They were sure it was due to his mismanagement of affairs that they were still living in this unsatisfactory way, while the years passed, they grew older, and no husbands were found for them.

Francesca was particularly bitter, as she loved gaiety more than did the others. Maria de Salinas and Inez de Veñegas were resigned, and she believed these two very dear friends of hers suffered more on her account than on their own.

Katharine lost no time in telling them of the arrival of the new ambassador.

Francesca was frankly delighted. “And Don Gutierre Gomez de Fuensalida!” she cried. “He is a very grand gentleman. He will know how to deal with your father-in-law, Highness.”

“I do not believe my father-in-law will care whether he has to deal with the nobleman or the lawyer Jew. His great concern will be the payment of the dowry.”

“I shall make our sad state known to the new ambassador,” declared Francesca. “Something must be done for us before we are too old to be married at all.”

Poor Francesca! thought Katharine. How she longed for marriage! She should be the mother of several children by now.

“I am a little anxious,” she said. “I am wondering what will happen when my plate and jewels are valued. The value will be found to be a great deal less than when I arrived. And these were to be part of the dowry.”

“But what could Your Highness do?” demanded Maria de Salinas. “You had to live.”

“There are times,” Katharine murmured, “when I believe that kings and ambassadors do not think that it is necessary for a princess and her household to eat. She is merely a figure to be used when the state needs her. She can marry. She can bear children. But eat! That is not considered at all necessary.”

Maria de Salinas was startled to hear the bitterness in Katharine’s voice. It was well, she reflected, that the new ambassador was here and that it was possible he would bring the negotiations, which had been going on for so many years, to a satisfactory end.

WHEN HENRY RECEIVED the Spanish Ambassador, the King was wrapped in a long robe and sat huddled near a blazing fire.

“My dear Ambassador,” said Henry with more warmth than he usually displayed. “You find me in ill health. I cannot move easily, so you must sit beside me and give me news of my dear brother, the King of Aragon.”

“My master sends his greetings to Your Grace,” answered Fuensalida, bowing with courtly grace.

“I pray you be seated,” said Henry; and, his alert eyes looking out from the wrinkles which pain had set about them, he summed up the character of the new ambassador. Here was one of the Spanish grandees, a man with a great opinion of himself. That was not displeasing. Henry liked weakness in the ambassadors of other countries.

When Fuensalida was seated, Henry said: “I know that you have come to see me on two matters of great importance and interest to me. They are also matters of great happiness: marriages. How much better it is for Kings to unite through such alliances than to quarrel together! What news do you bring me of Queen Juana?”

“There is no King to whom Ferdinand would rather see his daughter married than yourself.”

“Then why delay…why delay?”

“It is on account of the strangeness of the Queen of Castile.”

Henry frowned. “I have heard of this strangeness, but what does it mean? She has recently been brought to bed of a fine daughter. She has borne sons. I would ask nothing more of a wife than that.”

“It is said that the Queen of Castile is insane.”

“Insane! Bah! She is fertile. We in England would have no objection to a little insanity if a Queen were fertile, as I have already explained.”

“Then the negotiations should go forward.”

“And with speed,” cried the King. “You see me here…”

He did not finish, and Fuensalida spoke for him: “Your Grace is no longer in your first youth. A speedy marriage is a necessity for you that you might get sons before it is too late.”

Henry was astonished. No one had ever dared refer to the fact that it was possible he would not be long for this world. And here was this stranger calmly telling him so. He felt very angry, the more so because he knew the truth of the statement. Had they told Juana that he was an old man and that his eagerness for their marriage was not his regard for her but the immediate and desperate need to beget a son before the grave claimed him?

Surely this ambassador must be the most tactless man Ferdinand could possibly have sent him.

“And there is a matter of great importance to us both,” went on Fuensalida who, since he never considered the feelings of others, was never conscious of wounding them, “and that is the marriage of the Infanta and the Prince of Wales.”

Impudence! thought Henry. He dares to change the subject! Where are his manners? Or does he think that a Spanish grandee takes precedence over a King of England?

Henry did not show his anger when dealing with foreign diplomats. He said calmly: “I have a great regard for the daughter of the King of Aragon. I find her gracious, charming and beautiful. It has grieved me that she must live so long in such uncertain state.”

“Your Grace remembers that he promised that she should marry the Prince of Wales?”

“I do not forget it and I see no reason why this marriage should not take place, providing certain questions can be amicably settled between my friend the King of Aragon and myself.”

“It is precisely that such matters should be settled that I am here with Your Grace.”

“Is that so?”

Still Henry showed no sign of the fury he felt. It was not the marriage of Katharine and the Prince of Wales he was eager to discuss, but his own marriage with Juana.

“Why,” he went on, “I remember full well that these two were betrothed. I am not a man to break my word. I should tell you that the Prince of Wales has had many offers…many brilliant offers of marriage.”

“There could scarcely be a more brilliant marriage, Your Grace, than with a daughter of Spain.”

Insolent fellow! thought Henry. He would see that Ferdinand realized his folly in sending such a man to England. Henry greatly preferred little Dr. de Puebla—a man who lacked this arrogance and certainly realized that the best way to serve his master was not to antagonize those with whom that master wished to make new friendships.

“I am weary,” he said. “My doctors warned me. You will be received by my councillors, and you can lay the terms of the King of Aragon before them.” The King closed his eyes. Gutierre Gomez de Fuensalida was dismissed.

THE COUNCIL were far from helpful. Fuensalida did not know that the King had already told them of his dislike for the new ambassador, and had hinted that no concessions should be made to him.

As for Fuensalida, he was afraid that certain members of this Council were not of sufficient nobility to be on equal terms with him, and he was disgusted that the King was not present that he might address himself to him.