Cor Rotto: A novel of Catherine Carey by Adrienne Dillard Read Free Book Online Page B

it could be. Stafford had been sent on an errand for the king so we did not expect him until the afternoon feasting. It made me sad to think he would not witness my wedding. He had spent more time in my life, guiding and caring for me, than both of my supposed fathers, the king and William Carey, but what could be done? For a moment I panicked, thinking it was Francis coming to take me to the chapel. I buried myself beneath the counterpane as soon as the door flew open.
    “Catherine, get up! You have a visitor!” my mother called.
    I peeked out from under the blanket.
    “Who is it?”
    “Why don’t you come and see for yourself?” she said with a mischievous grin.
    I swung my feet out and, still in my shift, padded into the hall.
    Stafford and my little brother were leaning casually against the wall.
    “Henry!” I shouted and ran towards him, arms outstretched.
    “Sister!” he yelped as I squeezed him tightly.
    I stepped back and eyed Stafford suspiciously. “I thought you were delivering a message for the king?”
    He laughed. “I was, to Sir John Russell. I could not leave without Henry. He begged me to take him.”
    My brother had been under the care of Sir John since his tutors had gone back to France. I was so pleased to see him after all this time. He had grown since I last saw him. Now he was as tall as Stafford. His shoulders were broad and sturdy. When his face relaxed out of his smile it was as if I was seeing William Carey come back to life.
    “Well, I am so glad you both could make it. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a wedding to prepare for.”
    I swept back into my room leaving Stafford and Henry to chatter in the hallway.
    Once I had finally dressed I took a moment to look myself over in the mirror. My bodice was made from dark green velvet and covered with a kirtle in a lighter shade that was trimmed in seed pearls and edged in gold rope. The sleeves were slashed showing the fine white linen underneath. I blushed at the low cut of the bodice as I fingered the jewel at my throat. It was a single emerald pendent, a wedding gift from my mother. It was the first jewel she had received from my father when she became his mistress. A matching hood held back my auburn hair worn loose down my back. I brought a few strands to my face and breathed in the clean scent. My mother’s reflection came into view.
    “Are you ready, my lady?” she smiled.
    The skies had cleared. There was no breeze to disturb the trees and the heat of the sun warmed my back. Stafford helped me into the carriage and we set off for Greys Court. When we arrived we were met at the gate by a young man, tall with sandy blonde hair, astride a dappled mare. He drove our carriage down the lane to the manor and, once there, he hopped down and strode over.
    “Welcome to Greys Court, Master Stafford and family. I am Henry, brother to Francis,” he said giving a slight bow.
    When he straightened, he caught my eye and gave me a broad grin. “And this beautiful lady must be my new sister.”
    He took my hand and placed a light kiss on my knuckle. I hoped desperately that Francis was as warm as Henry.
    “Very pleased to meet you, Master Knollys. I have been eagerly awaiting this day.”
    Laughing he said, “Are you sure you do not mean anxiously awaiting?”
    Both Stafford and my brother chuckled, but Henry Knollys noticed the alarm on my face.
    “Oh, my lady, you will soon learn that I am the family fool. They humour me because I am the baby, but I am sure you will find my brother much more serious.”
    I relaxed, gave him a wink and responded, rather tartly, “I certainly hope not.”
    He offered his arm to me. “Now, that was the reaction I was hoping for.”
    Henry took us on a tour of the manor. As a bachelor he resided there and cared for the grounds while Francis was at Court. Sisters Margaret and Joan were already married and settled into their homes and their mother, Lettice, was married to Sir Thomas Tresham and resided at