A Dangerous Inheritance Read Online Free Page A

whose hand is squeezing mine so meaningfully. But I cannot but notice his drawn face, and Jane’s visible unhappiness as she is bound to Guilford Dudley.
    But now here are our parents and guests, clapping and congratulating us, kissing me and Jane, and jocularly slapping our new spouses on the back. The Bishop beams as Harry ventures a chaste kiss on my lips, and I feel a great lightening of the spirits. Harry and I are wed now; surely no one can prevent us from becoming one flesh, as Holy Scripture enjoins.
    It is only at this moment—for I have been utterly enrapt by the ceremony—that I become aware of so many great lords among the company.
    “The entire Privy Council is here!” my mother breathes. “Are you not honored?”
    “Yes, indeed,” I stammer, overwhelmed that I should be thought so important, and hastily curtseying to the fine gentlemen. “I thank you all for coming, good my lords.” Their presence, not to mention the splendid display put on for the wedding, is making me feel dizzy with conceit. These marriages must indeed be important to warrant such honors. But why?
    The Duke of Northumberland bows.
    “This day I have gained a daughter,” he says, addressing Jane. “I hope you will be happy in your new husband, my dear.”
    Jane murmurs a reply. He cannot fail to see the resentment and misery in her eyes.
    The Earl of Pembroke, my new father-in-law, is more effusive.
    “You are heartily welcome to the family, my Lady Katherine,” he declares, lifting my hand and kissing it. His wife, the Countess Anne, my husband’s stepmother, hugs me warmly. She is a large lady, and no beauty, but she displays a good and loving heart.
    The earl turns to his son. “I trust you are feeling better now, Harry. You will not know, Katherine, that he has been confined to his bed with a fever these three weeks, but he is happily amended now.”
    “Do not worry,” Harry protests. “I feel much better than I did, really I do!” And he smiles broadly.
    The trumpets are sounding again, and it is time for the wedding feast. Northumberland departs bowing, pleading urgent business with the King—much to my comfort, for I find the man intimidating—and a jubilant Harry takes my hand as, with Jane and Guilford, we lead the merry procession to the great hall. Here the tables are lavishly spread with dishes of every description, all artfully arranged on gold and silver platters, and an impressive array of plate is displayed on a tall, ornate buffet for all to admire. As we seat ourselves at the high table above the great gold salts, the servitors come running with napkins, ewers, and small manchet loaves, grace is said, and the feasting begins. Reassured about Harry’s recovery, I begin to enjoy myself immensely.
    On my right, Jane waves away roast peacock dressed in its plumage and a hot salad, on which Guilford pounces ravenously, then she turns to me and murmurs, “Do you not think it strange that every lord on the council has deemed it proper to come? And all this lavish display. Our parents did not merit as much when they married. I have heard them speak of it. It was a quiet ceremony, overshadowed by Queen Anne Boleyn’s coronation. So why all the pomp?”
    I lay down my knife and sip my wine. Her words reawaken my suspicion that there is more to our marriages than we have been given tounderstand; and suddenly I am no longer so confident about the future.
    “This is disgusting,” Guilford says, pushing away the salad and reaching once more for his goblet, which has already been refilled several times. Jane ignores him.
    “Think on it,” she whispers to me, toying with a venison pasty for which she clearly has no appetite. “For all their fair words to Northumberland, our parents hate him, and six months ago they would never have condescended to our marrying into a family tainted by treason and not long ennobled.”
    “But it is a good alliance,” I argue, in my twelve-year-old wisdom. “He is a powerful