Four days later, on the vigil of Our Lady's Assumption, the Grace d Dieu sailed up the broad Gironde with the afternoon tide arid veered south into the narrower Garonne while the village church bells along the banks rang for the beginning of the festival. It seemed excessively hot to the Englishwomen, who were seated on deck beneath a striped canopy. They had never seen a sun so white and glaring, or river water so turbidly yellow, and even Princess Isabel's insistent voice was stilled.

In anticipation of the landing at Bordeaux, all the ladies had dressed in their best; which entailed furs and velvets far too warm for the climate. Katherine's best was of dark Lincoln green with a sideless apricot surcote trimmed with fox. The cauls which confined her hair on either side of her face were woven of gold thread, which deepened the tone of her glossy bronze hair as they accented the golden flecks in her grey eyes. She knew that no colours suited her quite so well as the richness of dark green and gold, and she was happy in the possession of becoming clothes, but she had, as always, little consciousness of the challenging quality of her beauty.

Now at twenty the last angles of extreme youth had softened into rounded bloom, and she moved with languorous grace. Her beauty had an exotic flavour far more vivid than when Geoffrey Chaucer had first sensed it at Windsor. It was this flavour that caused Princess Isabel's angry whisper to Lady Roos, as she watched Katherine, who stood by the rail leaning her chin on her hand and gazing out at the strange white plaster houses, gilt crosses and red roofs of this new land.

"That woman's no true-born of that herald de Roet! She's some bastard he got on a Venetian strumpet - or mayhap Saracen. Look how she holds her hips!"

"To be sure," said Lady Roos, striving to please, "and her teeth are most-un-English - so small and white."

"Mouse teeth!" said the Princess, angrily pulling her lip down over her own teeth, of which several were missing." 'Tis not that I mean! But her effrontery - I shall tell my brother of Lancaster that I find her most unsuitable choice for a waiting-woman - though in fact I believe she's invented that tale as excuse to worm her way over here, that and the pretty story of a wounded husband! I've seen a great deal of the world, and I can scent a designing woman quick as smell a dead rat in a wall, I can alway - s - " The Princess's suspicions were cut short by a rushing of mariners and archers to the starboard rail amidships and a chorus of halloos, while the watch in the crow's-nest dipped the Lancaster pennant and raised it again on the mast.

The Princess heaved herself up from her chair and went to the rail. "Why, 'tis John - come to meet me!" she said complacently, peering down at the approaching eight-oared galley. Her younger brother was standing in the prow, his tawny head brilliant and unmistakable in the sunlight.

Katherine had discovered this fact some five minutes earlier when the galley first glided in sight down the river, and the sudden violent constriction in her chest stopped her breath. Her first instinct was flight - down to the cabin. She controlled herself and remained where she was. Sooner or later this moment must be met, and she armoured herself with the certainty of his indifference to her.

The galley drew alongside and the Duke ascended the ladder, followed by the Lords de la Pole and Roos. The Duke jumped lightly on to the deck and smiled at the assembled mariners and archers. Katherine, watching from above, saw Nirac dart out from the crowd of men and, kneeling, kiss his master's hand. The Duke said something she could not hear but Nirac nodded and drew back with the others. Then the Duke came up the steps to the poop deck and walking to his seated sister, kissed her briefly on both cheeks, while the other ladies curtsied. There was a further flurry of greeting when the other gentleman clambered up. De la Pole greeted his sister, Lady Scrope, and Lord Roos his wife, while Katherine still stood rooted in the angle of the rail.

The Duke turned slowly, negligently, as though without intent until he saw Katherine. Across the heads of the fluttering, chattering ladies their eyes met in a long unsmiling look. She felt him willing her to come to him, and her lids dropped, but she did not move. After a moment he covered the space between them, and she curtsied again without speaking.

"I trust the voyage was not too disagreeable a one, my Lady Swynford," he said coolly, but as she rose her eyes were on a level with his sunburned throat and there she saw a pulse beating with frantic speed.

"Not too disagreeable, Your Grace," she said and rejoiced at the calm politeness of her tone. She felt the slight hush behind them and saw the Princess' watchful stare; lifting her voice a trifle she added, "How does my husband? Have you heard, my lord?"

"Better, I believe," John answered after a moment, "though still confined to his lodgings."

Katherine again meeting his gaze saw the colour deepen beneath the tan of his cheeks. "I'm longing to see Hugh and care for him," she said. "May Nirac guide me to Hugh's lodging directly we disembark?"

A strange almost bewildered look tightened the muscles around his eyes, but before he answered a strident voice called imperiously, "John, come here! I've much to tell you - you've not heard yet the peril we were in on this wretched ship - the King's Grace, our father, has sent special message - and how long are we to be kept sweltering here in this infernal heat?"

"Ay, Nirac shall guide you, Lady Swynford," he said, then turning to his sister laughed sharply. "Your commands, my sweet Isabel, plunge me back into the happy days of my childhood. In truth, you've changed but little, fair sister."

"So I'm told," said the lady nodding. "Lord Percy said but t'other day, I looked as young as twen - , as several years ago. By Saint Thomas, what's that caterwauling?" She broke off to glare indignantly around the deck. A medley of voices had arisen from all parts of the ship. A confusion of sound at first, until led by the high clear tenor of the watch, it resolved itself into a solemn melody, a poignant chant carried by some forty male voices.

"It is the hymn of praise to the Virgin of the Sea," said John. " 'Tis sung on every ship of all nations when port is safely reached - for see, here is Bordeaux." He pointed to the white-walled town curving around its great crescent of river, and dominated by the high gilt spires of the cathedral.

Here is Bordeaux, echoed Katherine's thought, and the words blended with the great swelling chorus of the Latin hymn the men sang: "Thanks to Thee, Blessed Virgin, for protection from danger, thanks to thy all abiding mercy which has saved us from the sea - -" She shivered in the violent sunlight, staring at the garish savage colours on the river-bank: the white and scarlet houses, the purple shadows, the brilliant yellows, crimsons, greens of vegetation shimmering in heat beneath a turquoise sky, and she thought with foreboding of how far away was the cool misty Northland, and all safe accustomed things. She fastened her attention on the city in front of her so that she might not turn again to look at him who stood behind her on the deck.

CHAPTER XIV

Hugh's lodgings were two rooms over a wine-shop in an alley behind the cathedral. Nirac duly guided Katherine through the town from the pier, while a small donkey laden with her two travelling chests ambled with them. She had managed to avoid the Duke entirely, even taking it upon herself to tell Nirac of the Duke's permission and order Nirac to accompany her.

This order Nirac received with an enigmatic shrug and smile, "Comme vous voulez, ma belle dame" and she thought that the faithful, amusing little Gascon whom she had known so well in England had somehow changed here in his native land. She chided herself for thinking him suddenly sinister and secret, like the twilit town that turned blank walls to the street and hid its true life from passers-by.

It was not until they mounted the littered stone stairs above the wine-shop that Katherine thought of the angry treatment Hugh had shown to Nirac long ago at Kettlethorpe and wondered if the Gascon still resented it, but then she thought that if he did it would not matter; stronger than any other thing in life for Nirac was his adoration of the Duke, and that feeling would check all others.

"Are you sure this is it?" she asked dubiously as they stood on a cramped landing and she knocked at a rough plank door. There was no sound from within.

"La cabaretiere said so, madame," answered Nirac who had inquired from the shopkeeper.

Katherine knocked again, then pushed open the sagging door, calling, "Hugh."

He lay on a rough narrow bed and had been dozing. The single shutter was closed against the heat, and in the dim light he blinked at his wife, who lit the doorway like a flame. Then he struggled to his elbow and said, uncertainly, "Is it really you, Katherine? But it's early - Ellis left to fetch you but a short time ago - we heard the ship was sighted in the river. Who's that behind you, is it Ellis?"

"No, Hugh," she said gently, going to the bed and taking his hand, "it's Nirac, the Duke's messenger. I hurried straight to you and have missed Ellis."

His hand clung to hers, it was hot and dry. His unshaven face was haggard between the matted wisps of his crinkled hair, and in his voice she had heard the querulous note of ill health. On a stool by the head of the bed there was a pile of torn linen strips, a bleeding basin and a small clay cup. Flies buzzed in the stuffy sour room, the dingy hempen sheet on which Hugh lay was wadded into lumps. She bent over and kissed him quickly on the cheek. "Ah, my dear, 'tis well I've come to nurse you. The Duke said you were better, are you?" She glanced at the bandaged leg, which was propped on a straw pillow.

"For sure 'e's better!" cried Nirac heartily, coming forward to the bed and bowing. " 'Is Grace's own leech 'as cared for 'im, an' now 'e 'as the best medicine in the world!" He smiled at Katherine, his bright black eyes were merry and charming, and she wondered what had made them seem sinister before.

Hugh said, "Oh, it's you, you meaching cockscomb. I'd forgot all about you." His dull gaze wandered from the Gascon to Katherine. "Ay, I'm better, the wound's near done festering. I'd be up now save for the griping in my bowels, it weakens me."

"Alack!" she said, " 'tis the flux again? But 'twill pass - you've got over it before."

He nodded, "Ay." He made effort to pull himself from the self-centred lethargy of his illness, yet in truth her beauty daunted him; and though he had much wanted her to come, now he felt the old discouragement and humiliation which always sought relief in anger.

"Now you are here," he said crossly, "I trust you're not too fine a lady to fetch us up some supper and wine from the woman's kitchen down below. Or has the Duke's appointment turned your head?"

Nirac made a faint hissing sound through his teeth, but she did not hear it as she answered, "I'm here to care for you, Hugh. Come, don't speak to me like that," she said smiling. "Don't you long for news of home - of our children?"

"I leave now, madame," said Nirac softly, and he added in swift French, "I wish you joy of your reunion." He was gone before she could thank him for his long care of her on the journey.

Through the rest of the day Katherine tended her husband. She took off her fine green gown and put on a thin russet kersey which she wore for everyday at Kettlethorpe; in this she tidied and cleaned the two bare little rooms. She made Hugh's bed, washed him and re-bound his leg, hiding her revulsion at the look of his wound, which was puffed high with proud flesh and oozing a trickle of yellow pus. But Hugh said it had much improved, and Ellis, when he returned from his fruitless errand to the ship, also agreed.

Gradually Hugh grew gentler, as the first shock of strangeness wore away. They slipped back into the groove inevitably worn by their five years of marriage. After they had supped and were more at ease and glowing from the delicious Gascon wine, Ellis sat by the window with his back turned to them, tinkering with some buckle on his master's gear, and Katherine curled up on the bed chattering of the babies - how lovely little Blanchette had grown and that she could sing three songs - here Hugh smiled proudly, seeming more interested than at the news that Tom could talk plainly and sit a horse alone and was near as big as his sister.

Katherine told many items of home news, particularly that the new flocks on the demesne farm were flourishing and that the Lincoln merchants, the Suttons, had been helpful with advice. She also told Hugh about the birth of Philippa's baby, proudly adding that she had done most of the midwifery herself, with Parson's Molly to assist. "But Philippa had an easy time - the babe popped into the world like a greased pig from a poke," she laughed, "not like the struggle I had to birth Blanchette."