Everyone said it: Geoffrey Gifford was inconsolable at the tragic death of his wife and unborn baby.
Everyone, that is, except Katherine. She said nothing to anyone about anything. During her time with the de Beauforts, she had watched the way in which Sir John conducted himself - never giving too much away and keeping his own counsel. She had learned how to believe one thing in private, but express something quite different in public when the need arose.
And this was one of those times.
Whilst every one of her senses was crying out, ‘You killed Grace and the baby,’ she simply smiled sympathetically at Gifford when they met and steeled herself to embrace him.
She watched impassively as he wept throughout the funeral service; during the burial and at the Gifford house afterwards. But by the end of that day she had made nail marks in the palms of her hands from balling them into fists so tightly.
Her real mourning was done in private. Her tears flowed freely when she thought of Grace and her broken life. Even though Katherine had never been able to know her well she understood how tortured her life must have been with Gifford and she wished she could have rescued her from that. Katherine also felt deeply the added poignancy that came with knowing that at the very point when Grace was about to enjoy some pure and unconditional love from a child, it had all been snatched from her. It was too, too cruel. And when she thought of the baby being callously killed before it was even born, her sadness was deep and profound. She could not, would not forgive anyone who was responsible for that tragedy.
When she saw Gifford again a few days after the funeral she was extremely cool and he, oddly, was the epitome of a gentleman. There was no mauling, no 'accidental' touching. He even took her hand gently at one point and said, ‘We are both in mourning now.’
It made her nauseous. She had a sudden vision of a hunter holding out crumbs to a bird to tempt it into a trap. She repeatedly turned the events of the past few weeks over in her mind ... Gifford's visit to Sir John with his lawyer; the timing of his trip to Nottingham; his acquaintance with Gisborne. She could guess what some of it meant, but not all.
As the weeks passed, the feeling that a storm was gathering over her head intensified. Each day she awoke expecting something bad to happen and so when Foster stepped into the room one morning and said, ‘Sir Guy of Gisborne is here,’ she simply set her mouth into a determined line and went to meet him.
Foster went to enter the room behind her, but she turned to him on the threshold and said, ‘Thank you Foster, there is no need today.’ He looked at her quizzically, but she simply smiled at him and Guy saw it and had hope.
It died when she entered the room, turned and slammed the door shut behind her. When she faced Guy her eyes that looked almost black in their intensity.
‘Gisborne,’ she snapped and walked over to a chair and sat down.
Guy sat too and she was pleased to see he looked confused. She heard him cough.
‘I offer you my condolences regarding your husband's sister,’ he said gently.
‘Do you?‘ she replied sweetly. ‘How very, very, very kind of you.’ She flicked some invisible piece of fluff from her skirt.
Guy looked distinctly unsettled.
Katherine pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows. ‘Anything else, Sir Guy?’
When he looked even more unsettled, she said, 'The baby. Are there no condolences for the loss of the baby?’
Guy made an embarassed 'well, yes of course' gesture.
