Текст книги "The Sun in Splendour"

Автор книги: Jean Plaidy

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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

How long she had endured this wretched life, Anne did not know. She lost count of the days. She seemed to sit for hours watching the spit—the task usually given to her. 'It's all she's fit for,' said the cook.

And so the morning began to pass and was like any other until suddenly there was commotion without. She heard a voice which

seemed to her familier but it could not be. She was dreaming. She had fancied she had heard that voice before.

'I demand to see your kitchens. Stand aside.' Then the door was flung open. She stood up, pushed her lank and dirty hair from her face to stare. Then she cried out shrilly: 'Richard!'

He strode across the kitchen. He could not believe this dirty creature was Anne; but it was her voice.

'Anne! Anne! Have I found you at last?'

She ran to him and threw herself against him. He held her tightly, her greasy dress soiling the richness of his jacket.

'Anne . . . Anne ... let me look at you. I have searched and searched. Who would have thought to find you thus. But let us get out of this place as quickly as we can.'

The woman who had brought her here and taken her clothes had come into the kitchen.

'What is happening here?' she demanded while the cook and the maids looked on in astonishment. They had never seen anything like this in their lives—and never would again. The rich and noble-looking man had come for their loony kitchen girl and it was dawning on them that she had been speaking the truth all the time.

'This is the woman who brought me here. She has my clothes,' said Anne.

'You will bring the Lady Anne's clothes.'

'My lord. . . I have commands. . . .'

'I know. From my brother the Duke of Clarence. So I can hardly blame you, though you deserve to be hanged for what you have done. No matter. Let us have the clothes and bring us water in which the Lady can clean herself.'

'My lord ... I dare not. . . .'

'You will obey me with all speed or you will be arrested without delay. Obey me. At once.'

The woman muttering that she had acted on orders hurried away.

Richard held Anne's hands tightly in his own.

'Anne,' he said, 'stop trembling. You are safe now. No one is going to hurt you again.'

'It has been like a nightmare, Richard. I could not understand. They thought I was mad. I began to think so too.'

The woman had returned with the clothes and hot water was brought. Anne was taken away from the kitchens to another part

of the house and the clothes and hot water were put in a small room. Anne went in and Richard said: 'I shall wait here for you and I shall not move until you come out.'

When she emerged with her beauhful hair still hanging limply about her face, but washed and in her own clothes, she looked more like herself although Richard was shocked by her fragile looks.

'Let us get away from this evil house,' he said.

They went out together. He lifted her onto his horse and mounted behind her.

'Anne,' he said. 'I am taking you into Sanctuary. There you will stay unhl we can be married. There'll have to be a dispensation first. But never fear. I have found you at last. There is nothing to be afraid of now. That is, of course ... if you will marry me.'

She laid her head against him. 'I am so afraid,' she said, 'that I am going to wake up and find myself in that house. Oh Richard, so often I have dreamed of your coming like this ... I am not dreaming now, am I? I could not bear it if I were. It would be even worse after this.'

'Nay,' he said. 'You are wide awake. Anne, you will take me then?'

'With all my heart,' she said.

'Then the future is ours.'

Anne remained in St Martin's Sanctuary, relieved to have come out of her nightmare, to awake every morning and sometimes be afraid to open her eyes lest she should see that dark room with the servants lying on their pallets on the floor beside her. Sometimes the nauseating smell of fatty foods would seem to be there and she wondered whether it had become part of her until she realized it was only imagination.

She was free now. Richard had freed her. He had visited her in Sanctuary and said that as soon as he could get the King's consent to their marriage and the necessary dispensation from the Pope– for they were cousins—they would marry.

She was waiting for that day. If in the meantime she could free her mind of memory and of evil dreams she could be content, but she knew it would take some hme to wash the grease out of her hair and to cleanse herself of the odours of that fearful kitchen

where the rats frolicked and the cockroaches scuttled across the floor and where she had been taunted as the crazy girl who thought herself a fine lady.

Edward was sympathetic, as Richard had known he would be but at the same time he did nothing to alienate Clarence. Clarence had proved himself a rogue and a criminal. He had submitted Anne to the utmost degradation. He had in any case fought against his own brother—^yet Edward deceived himself into believing that he could be placated. Strife in the family was something Edward could not bear to contemplate—even though it was there. But even though he was eager not to upset Clarence, his sympathy was with Richard.

He showed this by granting Warwick's northern estates to his younger brother as well as lands which had been confiscated from rebels like the Earl of Oxford. Clarence retaliated by insisting that he was Anne's guardian and as such must give his consent before she married.

Edward's answer to this was that the two brothers should take the case before the Council. He thought that Richard's calm statements were certain to win over Clarence's angry harangues.

This however was inconclusive for although Richard put forward his case with a calm precision, George waxed eloquent and declared that Anne's sister Isabel was the one who should be nearest the girl in this dilemma. The Council not wishing to offend either Clarence or Gloucester suspended judgement and the quarrel was no nearer conclusion than it had been before the Council sat.

Christmas came and Richard was at Court while Anne remained in Sanctuary.

It was a dreary festival for Richard. Nor did Edward enjoy it. He hated to see the enmity between his brothers, and as always he felt an inner perturbation when he thought of Clarence's defection and wondered what he would do next.

He had loved his brothers—^both of them. Richard had been such a serious little chap and how could he help favouring one who bestowed that abject adoration on his big and handsome brother? Richard had made him feel like a god and Edward had liked that. But George had been such a bright and amusing littie fellow. Always pushing himself forward, strutting, boasting, lively and handsome.

Families should never quarrel but what could he do to solve

this difference between his brothers? Richard was determined to marry Anne; Clarence was determined that he should not. He was certain that Richard loved Anne but George of course had as intense a passion for Anne's estates.

Edward discussed the matter with Richard.

'George should be punished/ said Richard. 'Consider what he did to Anne. You have no notion how she suffered. To put a girl who has been so tenderly nurtured into such conditions . . . it's criminal. Why should he not be brought to judgement for that?'

'Listen Richard, he is our brother. He has power as such. I cannot afford strife in this country. He joined Warwick once. I watch him closely for I never know what he will be at, but I do not want to anger him. Help me to settle this matter. If you agree to share the estates and give him the lion's share, we might be able to settle it. I have a mind to put you in the North. I know your heart is there. You would leave Court and settle up there. You are the only man I would trust to keep the North faithful to me. You would have Middleham which you could make your chief residence and Warwick's northern estates. You and Anne could marry as soon as the dispensation comes through from the Pope. I feel sure that I could get George's agreement to this. What say you?'

Richard did not hesitate. To go north, to Middleham, the home of their youth, to have the North at his command, to marry Anne. To hold the North for Edward. . . . Oh yes, he would agree to that.

Then,' said Edward, 'it only remains for me to show George what a good settlement this is.'

George considered the proposition with no great show of eagerness.

Secretly he saw that he would come out of the arrangement better than Richard. Richard was to have Middleham Castle—let him. He had no desire for that place right up in the North. He wanted to be at Court where everything happened. Richard was to have Warwick's Yorkshire estates. Very well. But he would give up the manor of Warwick to George and George would have the earldoms of Warwick and Salisbury.

George had indeed the greater share of the Warwick estates but Richard did not mind that. He was longing to take Anne out of Sanctuary, marry her and settle in Middleham.

'Now/ said Edward, 'all you have to do is wait for the Pope's dispensation.'

There was a twinkle in Edward's eyes. He knew that Richard was contemplating acting without that. Why not? It would come in due course. There was no reason why it should not.

He was right. Richard went to the Sanctuary where Anne was waiting for him. He took her hands in his.

'Our troubles are over/ he said. 'We have made an agreement—my brothers and I. George will put nothing in the way of our marriage. He has taken most of yours and your sister's inheritance, but I think we have enough in each other.'

'I care nothing for the lands,' said Anne.

'I thought not. I wish Clarence joy of them. And now we are only waiting for the Pope. But I will tell you this, Anne, I do not intend to wait longer for His Holiness. Do we need ceremonies? Do we need a grand wedding? I believe you are in agreement with me when I say we do not.'

'I am in complete agreement.'

'Well then, tomorrow we shall be married. And Anne almost at once we are going to leave for Middleham. Does that make you happy?'

'Very happy,' she said.

'Yet you are a little downcast?'

'I was thinking about Isabel . . . who has grown so weak . . . and my mother. I think of her often. She must be very lonely.'

Richard nodded.

He said he would return for her the next day when they would be quietly married.

And so they were; and they made immediate preparations to leave for the North.

Edward was amused. 'So you decided to flout His Holiness then?'

'There is only one man whose command I have ever obeyed.'

Edward looked at him affectionately.

'I know it and I am grateful. Richard, let us take a brotherly oath and swear that it shall always be so.'-

'There is no need for swearing,' said Richard. 'You know my motto. I will serve my King while there is life in my body.'

Edward embraced him.

'We shall see little of each other from now on. You will be in the North but know that my thoughts are with you and that I shall

sleep more soundly in my bed at nights for knowing you control the North. It has always been a source of anxiety to me, Richard. But it will be so no more. The one 1 trust beyond all others will guard it forme.'

'With my life/ said Richard. 'And my lord, there is one request I would ask of you before 1 go.'

'1 promise you before you ask it that if it be in my power to give it, it is yours.'

'It is the Countess of Warwick. She is alone at Beaulieu. Anne grieves for her. I ask your permission to take her out of Sanctuary at Beaulieu that she may live with us at Middleham.'

'How like you, Richard, to make such a request. I grant it with pleasure. God bless you, brother. I wish you all the happiness you deserve. And there is one thing I would ask. From time to time you must tear yourself away from Middleham and come to see me. I shall send for you and I know you will not dare to disobey your King's commands.'

Once more they embraced and the next day Anne and Richard set out for Middleham. They were happy for they were in love. They were young—Richard but twenty, Anne sixteen—and they had their whole lives before them.

So they came to Middleham. It was springtime and the country at its most beautiful. Anne was overcome with emotion when she saw the castle on its high eminence with the moat surrounding it filled with water which came from the spring on high ground which she and Isabel used to ride to, when they were children.

Here she could forget the dirty kitchens, the greasy smell, the terrible fear that after all she might be as mad as they had made her out to be.

And she had Richard too. This was how they both imagined it in those early days. They were together now as they had been then. Her mighty father was dead; her sad mother was coming to them for the King had promised it, though the Duke of Clarence was trying to put obstacles in the way.

But she would be with them soon.

During that first year Richard had to go south to attend Parliament but he did not stay long and was back by Christmas which they celebrated with the old traditions in the great castle hall.

By that time Anne had discovered that she was pregnant so there was very special rejoicing and how delighted she was when during the following year her child was bom.

Richard wanted to call him Edward after her brother whom he so admired and Anne was eager to agree.

In due course the Countess of Warwick arrived at Middleham and Anne felt that she needed nothing more to complete her happiness.

All that had happened before was worth while since it had brought her to this.

HASTINGS IN DANGER

The Queen had watched the controversy over Anne Neville with a certain cynical amusement. She could well appreciate Clarence's point of view. Naturally he would want the whole of the Warwick estates if he could get them and the manner in which he had concealed Anne was to say the least ingenious. She and her mother laughed over it.

Jacquetta had been with her a great deal since her last confinement which had been slightly less successful than usual, for the child, a little girl, was less robust than her brothers and sisters. Because of her concern for the child she had sent for Jacquetta who had come with all speed and together they concerned themselves with the welfare of the little girl who had been christened Margaret.

The child seemed to be getting stronger but Elizabeth noticed with apprehension that Jacquetta was looking tired and seemed to have lost a little of that bounding energy which had been one of her main characteristics. When she asked tentative questions about her mother's health Jacquetta waved them aside and said that her recent confinement had made her fanciful but Elizabeth continued to be faintly uneasy. She had relied so much on Jacquetta. It was her mother who had first suggested that she plead to the King for the restoration of her estates and that had started her amazing prosperity. Sometimes she wondered if the rumours about Jacquetta's special powers were true. Was her mother a witch? No, that was absurd. Did she have communication with supernatural powers? No. She was just a wise woman and being devoted to her family she planned all the time for their advancement.

There was one subject which Elizabeth wished to discuss with

her mother and that was the Captaincy of Calais. Warwick had held that post with such flair and it was in fact his daring exploits there which had begun his startling career; but now he was dead and this most important and lucrative of posts had to be filled.

Jacquetta listened intently while Elizabeth put her plan before her. She wanted the post for her brother Anthony who had become Earl Rivers on their father's death.

'Anthony will do well there. I shall hint to the King . . . /

Jacquetta nodded. 'Be careful,' she said.

'Be careful? What do you mean?'

Jacquetta hesitated for a moment. Then she said: 'Well, my dear, I believe the King is very much taken with the wife of a merchant.'

'Dear Mother, he is constantly being very much taken with the wives of merchants.'

'But this one I believe a little more so than usual.'

'I have always found that the best way of dealing with Edward's adventures is to ignore them.'

'Heaven alone knows how many mistresses he has,' said Jacquetta.

'Then Heaven may keep the information to itself. I do not want to know. Dear Mother, I have kept my hold on the King by never reproaching him, never refusing him when he comes back to me, being an understanding wife and mother of his children. That is why he stays enamoured of his wife however many mistresses he has.'

'I have heard that she is a woman of exceptional charms and that Hastings has aspirations with this woman but Edward claimed her first.'

'Well, he cannot marry her.'

'No, not even if she says "Your mistress I cannot be and I am unfit to be your Queen." '

'Of which you already have one.'

'Elizabeth you treat this matter lightly. Perhaps you are right.'

'Who is the woman?'

'Her name is Jane Shore. She is said to have great physical beauty and a merry wit and to be quite unlike most merchants' wives. She has left her goldsmith husband and settled into apartments the King has found for her.'

'May he have good sport with her. It will put him in the right mood when I ask for Calais for Anthony.'

'I hear that Hastings found her, boasted of her and so the King saw her.'

'I wish Edward would not be so friendly with Hastings.'

'Hastings is a rake of rakes, second only to the King.'

'I know. I should like to remove Hastings. I will, one day. But the least little whisper against him and the King shuts his ears. You know I never impose my feelings on Edward ... at least not so that he will know . . . so it is hard to tell him what I think of Hastings.'

'Hastings has been a good friend to him. I daresay Edward is more friendly with him than with anyone. He is closer to his brother Richard perhaps, but in a different way. Richard is his loyal henchman. Hastings is his companion in profligacy.'

'Undoubtedly so. I believe there would not be so many of these adventures with merchants' wives but for Hastings. Hastings shows what a fine fellow he is with the women and Edward regards it as a challenge. How I wish I could break that friendship!'

'There is no need to tell you to go carefully,' said Jacquetta, 'for you always do.'

'Always,' replied Elizabeth. 'But when I make up my mind I usually get what I want in the end. Desmond thought he was very clever. . . but look what happened to him. I sealed his death warrant while Edward slept. He must have known it was done . . . yet he said nothing and he was quite fond of Desmond. Mother, what has happened to you?'

Jacquetta was lying back in her chair, her face deathly white, her lips blue.

Elizabeth rose in horror and summoned her women to come at once.

They took Jacquetta to her bed and Elizabeth immediately sent for the doctors.

Her mother was very ill and had been so for some time, they told Elizabeth and the manner in which they spoke alarmed the Queen. Jacquetta looked so wan now that she was lying in bed and was no longer pretending that this was just a slight indisposition. She took Elizabeth's hand and looked at her appealingly, almost apologetically. She was thinking: Perhaps I should have told her. It would have been better to have warned her rather than give her this sudden shock.

But Jacquetta had known how unhappy that would have made

her daughter and she could not bear to disturb her with impending tragedy. She had worked for Elizabeth, lived for Elizabeth as she did for all her children and her great fear now was that Elizabeth would miss her.

There was little time left, she feared. At least she had seen her daughter safely on the throne; she had seen the rest of her children make brilliant marriages and take up important posts. The most influential family in England had ceased to be the Nevilles and had become the Woodvilles. She need not have worried about Elizabeth and this Jane Shore. Elizabeth knew how to handle the King.

So Jacquetta could say: Lord now lettest thou thy servant depart in peace.

My house is in order, she thought. She died peacefully in her bed a few days later.

Elizabeth was stricken with grief. Devoted to her family as she was, she loved her mother intensely. She saw in her the wise woman, the founder of their fortunes.

And now . . . she was dead.

Elizabeth remained deeply affected. Cold she might be to the world but she was devoted to her family and she had always been particularly close to her mother but only now did she realize how much she had meant to her. Edward was sympathetic. He too had been fond of Jacquetta but it was characteristic of him that he avoided unpleasantness. He preferred to forget rather than to brood.

As the weeks passed she saw less of him. Perhaps he was completely entranced by this new mistress. That might be a bad or good sign. She was not sure which. It was sometimes better for a king to have one mistress than many; yet on the other hand if he became too devoted to the woman, might not his love for his wife wane a little?

Elizabeth was determined that it should not. But she realized that with such a menace as the goldsmith's wife she must tread more warily than before.

He was as loving as ever when he came to tell her that Louis of Bruges, Lord of Gruthuyse, who had sheltered him when he had been obliged to fly to the continent and had therefore proved

himself to be such a good friend, was to visit England. Edward wanted him to be entertained with all the splendour of which the Court was capable.

Elizabeth threw herself into making the arrangements. It helped her forget the loss of her mother and the health of baby Margaret which was growing less and less sarisfactory; moreover it kept the King at her side.

When de Gruthuyse arrived at Calais he was welcomed by Lord Howard who was the deputy Captain and there he remained for nearly fourteen days while he was entertained with every show of honour and respect. In due course he arrived at Windsor where the King was waiting to greet him. Edward conducted him to the Queen's apartments assuring him of Elizabeth's impatience to greet him and to thank him in person for his goodness to Edward during his enforced absence from England. It was at such times, Edward commented, that a man discovered his true friends.

Elizabeth, prepared for the coming of this honoured guest, was waiting, looking very beautiful, her golden hair loose about her shoulders and a circlet of jewels about her forehead. She was gratified to see Edward's eyes gleam as he looked at her and she asked herself what she had to fear from any merchant's wife. She had been playing at morteaulx, a bowls game, with her ladies while waiting, and her eldest daughter was present. Like all the royal children six-year-old Elizabeth was very good-looking and there was no doubt of Edward's pride in his wife and daughter when he presented them to the Lord of Bruges.

There followed dancing and games in which the King joined and during the dancing he took the young Elizabeth as his partner at which everyone applauded.

The next morning de Gruthuyse must meet the Prince of Wales and the little Edward was carried in by Thomas Vaughan his chamberlain, and when de Gruthuyse had complimented the King on his charming family, Edward presented him with a gold cup which was decorated with pearls, and on its cover was an enormous sapphire. Nothing was spared in the entertainment which went on for several days. There was hunting in Windsor Park when the King insisted on his honoured guest riding his favourite horse; and when de Gruthuyse was seated on it he was informed that the horse was his. Not content with giving his friend these valuable gifts Edward also presented him with a

crossbow and silk strings and a cover of velvet for it which was embroidered with the King's arms and devices.

De Gruthuyse particularly admired the rose-en-soleil which combined the White Rose of York with the blazing Sun and, as Hastings had done, likened the King to that very sun. 'You are the sun of your people,' he said. 'You have brought them peace and prosperity. They bask in your radiance.'

Edward graciously accepted the compliment for indeed it seemed to him that it was so.

There at Windsor de Gruthuyse was given his own apartments which were called chambers of pleasance; the walls were hung with silk and there were carpets on the floors. There were three chambers and in one was the bed which had been prepared for him. The down was of the best; the sheets of rennes and finest fustian and the quilt of cloth of gold, edged with ermine. The tester was of the same cloth of gold as the quilt and the curtains of white sarsenet. In the second chamber was another fine bed and in the third chamber two baths which were covered with white cloth in the shape of tents.

The whole company escorted the visitor to these apartments and there they left him with Lord Hastings who would stay with him for the night, to care for his comfort in the name of the King. Hastings was, of course, well known to de Gruthuyse and had reason to be grateful to him as had the King, for Hastings had enjoyed hospitality at Bruges when he had shared the King's exile.

They bathed together and while they did so they were served with refreshments which consisted of green ginger, sweetmeats and spiced wine.

A week or so later the company were in London where the investiture of de Gruthuyse with the earldom of Winchester took place. The King was a magnificent figure in his crown and state robes and it was a brilliant assembly that assisted at the ceremony. The Duke of Clarence had been assigned to carry the guest's train and after the ceremony the King led the new Earl back to Westminster where the Queen was waiting to greet him. She was beautiful in her splendid robes wearing the crown on her golden hair and she had rarely felt so confident. Her great regret was that Jacquetta was not there to see her.

Yet another tragedy was awaiting Elizabeth. December had come and little Margaret was growing steadily worse, and on the eleventh of the month, when the child was only eight months old, she died.

They buried her in the Chapel of the Confessor in the Abbey. So there were two deaths in one year. Elizabeth deeply mourned her loss, but she was cheered to know that she was once again pregnant.

Edward grieved with her but he was, like herself, delighted to know they could expect another. Although he was very satisfied with what he had, he longed for another boy. Young Edward was a delight but kings always liked to know that there was at least one other son should anything happen to the first.

Occasionally Elizabeth thought of Jane Shore. She did not know why she should bother about one of his women, except that her mother had mentioned her with a touch of uneasiness during their last real talk together.

She certainly would not mention the woman to Edward but she did find what she thought an opportune moment to mention the Captaincy of Calais which she had heard discussed recently with the comment that the King could not wait much longer before appointing Warwick's successor.

She knew why he delayed. It was because thinking of the post reminded him of Warwick and strangely enough in spite of all that scheming Earl had done, he was still fond of him. Edward's moods might seem strange to some but she understood them. She knew of his devotion to his family; this had been proved by his weakness—she could only call it that—in forgiving Clarence who was only waiting for a chance to betray him again. She understood the force of family ties—none better—^but the Woodvilles worked for each other whereas Edward's brother and some of his kinsmen had their eyes on what brought them the greatest reward.

'You will have to appoint a Captain soon,' she reminded him.

He was silent. His thoughts seemed elsewhere. Were they with the goldsmith's wife?

'Anthony has served you well. He loves you dearly. I was wondering if you would . . . .'

Edward was smiling at her benignly. He is going to agree, she thought.

His words were shattering: 'I have already bestowed the Captaincy/ he said.

She stared at him in amazement. If it had been given to Anthony she would have known at once. She had seen him only that day.

'I wanted to reward Hastings,' went on the King. 'He has been a good friend . . . and he was eager for it.'

Hastings! Her enemy! She had the greatest difficulty in curbing her anger.

She was not looking at the King at that moment, because she was afraid to; she could have slapped his handsome, smiling face. Calais ... for Hastings, her enemy! That man who accompanied Edward in his adventures with women and urged him on to greater lechery.

Hastings! The man she hated. She would be his bitter enemy from now on.

When she turned back to the King she was smiling and all the bitterness had been wiped from her face.

She was remembering Jacquetta's warning. Perhaps she must be doubly careful now.

Elizabeth discussed the matter of Hastings' appointment to the Captaincy of Calais with her brother Anthony. He was about a year younger than she was and perhaps the most able of her family. He had married well and through his wife had gained the title of Baron Scales. Being the eldest son he had become Lord Rivers on the death of their father and had advanced rapidly since his sister became Queen of England and was always watchful for improving his state. The King had become quite fond of him; he had his share of the Woodville good looks and had distinguished himself at the jousts where he was considered to be a champion.

Elizabeth knew how he had set his heart on Calais and she guessed what a great disappointment the selection of Hastings must be to him.

'Of course Hastings is as debauched as the King himself,' said Anthony, knowing it was safe to speak so to his sister. Elizabeth had never attempted to deny Edward's flagrant infidelities within her family circle and Jacquetta had always complimented her on her treatment of them.

There could not be such a complacent queen in history/ Jacquetta used to say. 'Oh how wise you are, my daughter. Your attitude to his philandering makes you irresistible to him.'