Not love
This one is for gemgemgembird for reasons.
Lord Sotherby has always had a soft spot for Catherine.
He remembers when she first arrived at court to marry Charles. He had stood behind Charles' throne as Cathy had been presented formally to the court. He had heard the judgemental whispering of the courtiers and the mocking sniggering of Barbara Villiers.
He had been furious with Charles when he had turned to Barbara, chuckling and murmuring that his new wife looked like a bat because of her exotic hairstyle and her strange, dark gown.
Sotherby had expected the tiny, demure and obviously exhausted princess to burst into tears there and then in front of everyone. But she had stayed composed. She had bravely stared into Charles' eyes and ignored the cackling witch at his side.
At that moment, something had broken inside Sotherby and flooded hotly through him, bringing a smile to his lips.
He has always felt strongly about her. So strongly, in fact, that every time he sees Charles with yet another pretty young thing on his arm there is a twinge of pain in his chest for her. Yet she still smiles bravely and gets on with things.
It is not love. It cannot be love, he will not permit himself to feel that for his Queen. He will never allow himself to betray Charles in that way. It is respect and the fierce desire to protect her from this court that he holds in the palm of his hand. With one word, he can crush anyone who upsets her but in doing so he risks hurting the king.
He must be content with just shielding her as best he can.