Late summer, 1390

[tiltingwithlips]

Kate is holding herself together very tightly as she leaves the Douglas' war tent. Oh, she knows well enough when she is being condescended to -- that brash, smirking, weather-bitten, brawling usurer--

The men-at-arms escorting her give warning glares to the Scottish soldiers, but it's hardly necessary. They might grin at her fury, but none seem inclined to have it directed at them.

Anger is much preferable to the dread threatening to creep into her heart, at least. She'll certainly not let anyone think the Douglas frightened her. She clings to that resolve as they ride back to the castle, where Margaret waits.

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[tiltingwithlips]

Kate shuts her mouth, presses her lips together hard to keep them from trembling, and retrieves the note. She holds it out to Margaret without looking at her, still.

[valiantrebel]

She's not ashamed to say she grabs for it.

There's no mistaking that's Harry's hand. And -- she smiles, though the rest of her bearing is shaken.

"There. He is so mad he repeats himself -- he's lost track in the middle of his sentence."

[tiltingwithlips]

She manages a tight smile in return.

"And so I trust he is well."

[valiantrebel]

"Well enough, I'll wager." Margaret sighs and folds the letter. "I should have come with thee. I have sent what letters I ought, but I should not have left thee alone to do this."

[tiltingwithlips]

"I thought I could do this alone."

More fool her

"May I have the letter?" she asks quietly.

[valiantrebel]

Margaret hands the paper back, no longer able to sustain her frustration.

"Oh daughter, thou couldst not have known." She reaches for Kate's shoulder. "The Earl will be coming from Richard's court. He may have some word for us, as the old lord Douglas captured him for ransom himself."

[tiltingwithlips]

But she should have known, it seems to her. She should have--

"I pray so." She shuts her eyes hard, but doesn't flinch away from Margaret's hand. "Mother, I cry thy pardon, that I have not -- I could not--"

[valiantrebel]

Harry used to cry himself in and out of rages when he was a boy, but in truth, it has been a long time since Margaret has comforted anyone through tears.

Maybe there's still time to fend them off. She draws closer and leans in for a hug.

"Thou and he will laugh at this when you are both old," she says. "Nay, long before that, I should think."

[tiltingwithlips]

Kate takes a shaking breath and wraps her arms around Margaret, presses her face into her mother-in-law's warm shoulder.

She'll not give voice to her fears, not yet. But she'll take the support, and gratefully.

And a few tears can be overlooked.

[valiantrebel]

Margaret, somewhat uncertainly at first, pets the back of Kate's head.

"Will we improve thy spirits to speak of future plans now?"

[tiltingwithlips]

Slightly muffled: "Give me but a moment, mother, I beg."

[valiantrebel]

She laughs, once. "Patience for me, then! Yet I'll not leave thee."

She might hug Kate a little tighter, if she's allowed.