Kathryn felt a chill about her heart. Was he going to leave her once more? ‘Are you to visit the court, then?’
‘We shall go together, Kathryn. It is time that I gave a little time to my wife’s pleasure. We shall buy you some pretty things in London. Perhaps you would like a ring or a rope of pearls? I have given you few gifts. There was never time for such things.’
Kathryn gazed into his eyes, trying to understand this new mood. Did he not know that his love was the most precious gift he could give her? She wanted for little else.
‘You were always generous, Lorenzo. I never wanted for material things when I was in Rome.’
‘But I gave you nothing more. Is that what you are saying, Kathryn?’
‘Sometimes you gave me more.’
‘Kathryn…’ He was interrupted by the arrival of a servant who came hurrying towards them, clearly the bearer of an urgent message.
‘Yes, what is it?’ Lorenzo was impatient, for he had believed he was at last breaking through the barrier she had been keeping in place these past days.
‘A message for the lady Kathryn, sir,’ the servant said. ‘Sir John, her father, has been taken gravely ill and would fain speak with her once more before he dies.’
‘Before he dies?’ Kathryn looked at her husband in alarm. ‘What has happened? I did not think him ill before we left.’
‘We shall return at once,’ Lorenzo said as he saw her concern. ‘Do not worry, my love. I am sure this seems worse than it is.’
He had called her his love, and in such a voice! Kathryn’s heart beat wildly—but for the moment she could not think of herself. Her father was ill and she must go to him.
Tears were in her eyes as she let Lorenzo hurry her into the house. She had not been happy in her father’s house these past weeks for he had seemed unlike the loving father she had known and loved, but she could not bear that he should die with bad feeling between them.
Sir John was lying with his eyes closed when Kathryn entered the room. As she approached the bed, he opened them and looked at her.
‘Kathryn, my dearest child—forgive me.’
‘Father…’ The tears were very close though she struggled to hold them back. ‘There is nothing to forgive. I love you.’
‘I have been harsh with you,’ he said, his voice little more than a whisper as she went to his side, reaching for his hand to hold it gently in her own. ‘It was only because I wanted to make sure you were safe when I was gone. I was fearful for you if I should die before you were wed.’
‘You must not die, Father. I love you. I do not want you to die.’
‘I have known for some months that I could not live many years, my dearest child. It is the reason I made you come home with me. I could not leave you alone and defenceless in Rome and I believed if I could see you safely wed to a good man I could die in peace. You might have lived in your brother’s house, but that would be no life for you. Now that you have your husband to protect you, I may die easily—if you will forgive my unkindness to you, daughter?’
Kathryn bent to kiss his lips. ‘I love you,’ she said. ‘You have always been a good and loving father to me. It hurt me when I did not understand your harshness, but now…’ She bit back the sob that rose to her lips. ‘If my forgiveness will ease you, you have it, my dearest father.’
‘Thank you, Kathryn,’ he said and smiled. ‘Sit here by my side for a little. It is good to know you are near.’
Kathryn’s eyes stung with the tears she would not allow to fall. She had felt estranged from her father because of his apparent intention to force her to marry against her will, but now that she understood his reasons, all she could feel was grief that he was dying, and regret that she had not seen the signs of illness in him.
She sat with him for most of the night, leaving his bedside only when her brother came to take her place, insisting that she must rest for a few hours.
‘Lorenzo says you must get some sleep,’ Philip told her when he came to take her place. ‘I shall call you if need be.’
‘I had no idea he was so ill.’
‘Do not blame yourself, Kathryn. He hid it well, even from me in the beginning. I begged him to let me come to Venice and find you, but he insisted on making the journey himself. I think it took the last of his strength. He has been failing ever since you returned.’
She had been too caught up in her grief for Lorenzo to notice! Regret mingled with her grief as she went to her bedchamber. She had hoped that Lorenzo might come to her there, for she needed his arms about her, but he did not. For a while she lay sleepless, tossing and turning in the feather bed, and then at last she slept.
Lorenzo came to her the next morning as she was dressing. Her heart caught with fright as she saw his grave expression.
‘Is he worse?’
‘He is certainly no better. I have spoken with the doctors and they do not hold much hope of his recovery. I am sorry, Kathryn. I know this must cause you pain.’
‘Yes, it does,’ she admitted. ‘We had not been on the best of terms of late, and that makes it harder somehow.’
‘You had quarrelled with him because of me?’
‘Yes…’ She smothered a sob. ‘I did not understand why he wanted me to marry again so soon. He thought it would make me safe when he was gone.’
‘I am sorry to have been the cause of anger between you.’
‘There is no need,’ she replied. ‘I was grieving for you and because of that I did not notice that he was ill.’
‘Did it hurt you so much when you thought I was dead?’ His eyes were on her face, seeking out the truth.
‘Yes, of course,’ she said, looking steadily into his eyes. ‘It broke my heart. I thought it would have been better if I had died. One day I walked to the top of the cliffs where…I think I might have thrown myself into the sea then if Michael had not come.’
‘He saved your life, then?’
‘He stopped me from committing a sinful act, for it is a sin to take one’s own life—but still I had nothing to live for until you returned to me.’
‘Kathryn…’ His voice was hoarse with emotion, remorse strong in him. ‘And then I was harsh to you. Forgive me if you can. When I saw you enter the hall holding Michael’s hand I thought the worst, and—’
He was prevented from continuing by the arrival of a servant.
‘You are wanted, Mistress Kathryn,’ the girl said. ‘Sir John is dying and asks for you.’
‘Oh, no!’ Kathryn cried and Lorenzo caught her hand, holding it tightly. ‘Come with me, please?’ She gave him a look of such appeal that it almost tore the heart from him.
‘Of course,’ he said. ‘I shall always be there when you need me, Kathryn. We shall not be parted again in this life if I can help it.’
She smiled at him, but her eyes were filled with tears. They hurried to Sir John’s bedchamber. It was obvious that he was failing, for he looked deathly pale as he lay with his eyes closed, and Philip was kneeling by the bed, head bent in prayer. Sir John opened his eyes as Kathryn approached.
‘My dearest child,’ he said. ‘Come, kiss me one last time.’
She went to his side, bending over him and pressing her lips to the papery softness of his cheek, her tears spilling over.
‘Ah,