Текст книги "The Sun in Splendour"

Автор книги: Jean Plaidy

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Warwick he would act wisely and well.

She was proud of her son. It had turned out well for the he he family—if only Richard had not been so foolish at Wakefield in taking an unnecessary risk. He would not have done that if she had been there. But he had lost a battle and his life and deprived her of the title of Queen. But her glorious son had taken that honour and she lived now with the state of a queen even if she had failed to win the title. Everyone must treat her with the ultimate respect. Her women must kneel to her; they must behave in every way in which they would had she been a queen in name.

She knew that behind her back they called her Proud Cis. Let them. She was proud. Proud of herself and her family and most of all proud of her beautiful son who was the King.

She had three of the children with her in London now and it was rarely that they were together. There was Margaret who was eighteen. They would find a husband for her soon, and that should not be difficult as she was the sister of the King; George was also with them; he was fifteen, her least favourite among her sons. George was inclined to be plump, self-indulgent and somewhat arrogant but she had to admit he had his share of the Plantagenet good looks; he was fairish and tall of stature but not as tall as Edward of course. Next to Edward her favourite was young Richard. Richard was quieter than his brothers, a serious boy given to learning. He was shortish and dark, taking after his father in looks. He lacked that gaiety which was a characteristic of Edward and George; he lacked their impulsive ways. He was serious, thoughtful and she had always believed cleverer than the others. He would always hesitate before giving an answer and one felt he wanted to weigh all points of view before speaking.

Sometimes she was a little worried about Richard. His frame was delicate and now that he was growing—he was twelve years old—it seemed to her that one shoulder was a little higher than the other—almost imperceptible but detected by a maternal eye. She had spoken to Warwick about it for she feared that at Middleham Richard might be set strenuous martial exercises which were too much for him.

Like all boys of noble houses Richard had been sent into another noble house to be brought up and Edward had thought Warwick's castle of Middleham was the right place for Richard.

Edward doted on Warwick. No wonder. It was Warwick who had made him King. So to Middleham to be brought up in Warwick's household Richard had been sent. Warwick himself would almost always be away somewhere, but he would have laid down the rules of conduct for the noble boys who came into his castle. Cecily was glad that the Countess of Warwick was there for she was a gentle lady. It was strange to think that through her Warwick had received his wealth and titles. Richard was very fond of the Countess as he was of Warwick's two daughters Isabel and Anne. So perhaps she should not worry too much about Richard's health. When she had mentioned it to Edward he had laughed at her.

'Richard has to grow up as a man, dear lady,' he said. 'And I can tell you there is none more qualified to bring out the best in him than my cousin Warwick.'

Even when Edward spoke his name she could hear the reverence in it. She was glad he felt like that. She, too, had the utmost faith in Warwick, for Edward, she was fully aware, much as she loved him, was too fond of pleasure. This continual pursuit of women was all very well while he was so young but when he married he would have to give it up, or conduct his adventures more discreetly.

Perhaps she should have a word with him about that. He would be a little impatient, but he would never silence his mother of course. He was too well mannered to do that.

Margaret, George and Richard were awaiting the King's arrival with great excitement. Richard was thinking: As soon as I hear the horses I shall be down there to greet him. I will stand and wait and perhaps he will notice me.

Richard adored Edward. From the hme he was a child this great and glorious brother had been like a god to him. He had followed his adventures avidly. When Edward was defeated Richard was sunk in melancholy; when Edward was victorious none rejoiced more than he.

'You are besotted about our brother,' George had said contemptuously.

'C3ur brother is the King,' Richard had replied with dignity.

George had shrugged his shoulders. It was only an accident of birth. If he had been the eldest he would have been King. He would have been the one everyone came out to cheer and all the women beckoned into their beds. Life was rather unfair, he

thought. It could so easily have been George.

Margaret also admired Edward. He was always good-natured and made everyone feel slightly more important than they were. Perhaps that was the secret of his charm. It might be, but even if he did not mean it it was pleasant to pretend for a while that he did.

Soon he would find a husband for her. It was inevitable really now that he was King. Her two elder sisters Anne and Elizabeth were already married; Anne to Henry Holland Duke of Exeter and Elizabeth to John de la Pole the Duke of Suffolk. Yes, it would certainly be her turn next and now that Edward was King—her sisters had been married before that happy event—hers might well be a very grand marriage indeed.

But what they were all discussing now was the King's marriage. Her mother had told her that the bride would very likely be Bona of Savoy, sister to the King of France. It would be a very grand wedding of course and after that there would be the new Queen's coronation.

It was hardly likely that there would be hme to give any consideration to the marriage of the King's sister just yet. So there would be some respite.

And soon Edward would be here. Margaret smiled, wondering how her mother would act with the King. She would hardly expect him to kneel to her, as they all had to do.

Dear mother, so ambitious for them all. . . and for herself!

The time had come. The King was arriving. Richard hurried out to meet the party. If he were quick enough he would avoid his mother who would want to insist on some sort of ceremony.

To see him again, this wonderful brother who had dominated his life! It had been hard to be sent to Middleham and to be so far from him and to hear of what he was doing from other people. He would have been really unhappy at Middleham if it had not been for the kindly Countess and her daughters, particularly Anne. There had been a very special friendship between them. They were of a kind—both a little shy of the world, unable to mingle freely with people and express themselves easily. But when they were together that was different. Oh yes, he had been very grateful to Anne and she to him, he believed.

His had been a childhood of uncertainty. He had been bom just at that time when civil war between the houses of York and Lancaster was brewing. He had heard talk of the red and white

roses and he knew that the white roses were worn by the good people and the red by the bad.

He remembered very well the terror of Ludlow when his father had had to fly because the Lancastrians were at the gates of the castle. He remembered his proud mother holding him close to her on one side with George on the other while the soldiers burst into the castle. There was death in the air then and young as he was he sensed it. But his mother was proud and noble and he had believed after that invincible; for when they burst into the room and she stood there with her sons held close to her and spoke to the soldiers in those commanding tones of hers, they hesitated. He noticed that there was blood on their swords . . . and he saw it too on the men's jerkins. But they did not harm them. Instead they were taken away and put in the charge of his aunt the Duchess of Buckingham, who strangely enough was not on the same side as they were.

Then of course there was the battle of Northampton and they were free again; they were brought to London and lodged in John Paston's house. It must have been less than six months that they were there but Richard remembered vividly the terrible dark day when news came that a battle had been fought in Wakefield and during it his father had been killed.

His mother's grief had been terrible. She vowed vengeance on their enemies. Richard was not told that his father's head had been stuck on the walls of York with a paper crown on it, but he heard it whispered by the attendants and servants and he was very good at picking up whispers.

But their mother recovered a little after the second battle of St Albans which oddly enough was won by the bad Lancastrians, but Warwick—the great Earl who had decided how he should be brought up at Middleham—marched to London, took it and proclaimed Edward King.

Then their fortunes had indeed changed. Richard would never forget the coronation—a grand occasion when a nine-year-old boy—which was what he was then—was so honoured by his mighty brother that he was made the Duke of Gloucester. George had become Duke of Clarence at the same time.

'Now you are Dukes,' said their mother, 'and that means you have a great responsibility to yourselves and the family and most of all to your brother. Never forget that your brother is the King and you must serve him with your lives if necessary.'

Richard wanted to say that he would have been ready to serve Edward with his life even without a dukedom, but he did not. One was careful what one said to Dame Cecily.

And then to Middleham Castle to learn to be a great fighter so that he would be ready if there was need to defend the crown. To spend long hours carrying arms which were too heavy for him and made his shoulders hurt and then to creep into the castle and lie down on his bed to rest making sure that none—except Anne—knew that he needed to rest.

Now the King had come. How magnificent he was—even taller than Richard remembered him. His mother was there first. She was about to kneel, for as she insisted on deference to her she was ready to pay it where she considered it due. But Edward would have none of that. He seized her in his arms and kissed her on both cheeks.

'My lord . . . my lord . . .' she murmured in protest.

But all those watching loved him for his easy manners.

Cecily was pale pink with pleasure at the sight of him. He looked more handsome every time she saw him after an absence. Oh she was proud of him. They all were.

'Margaret, sister. . . .'

He embraced her and then his eyes were on his brothers and Richard noticed with a thrill of delight that they rested on him.

'Richard . . . George . . .'

Richard's eyes were full of devotion which was not lost on Edward. George's were a little clouded. Edward understood that there was a streak of envy there. He made a mental note. He might have to watch George.

'Richard . . . how are you, boy?' He had his hand on his shoulder. Richard felt uneasy. Was it noticeable then? It clearly was when he was without his cloak.

'Growing up,' said Edward. 'By God, you are almost men.'

And when he went into the palace he kept his hand on Richard's shoulder.

Cecily was longing to talk alone with her son. She wanted to know how far the negotiations for the marriage had gone. She would need to know well in advance of the ceremony. There would be a great deal to plan and she intended to have a very firm hand in that planning.

She noticed his profligate friends in attendance, Hastings among them. There was one other she saw. She had a vague idea

that it was Lord Rivers, the man whom Edward was favouring, so she had heard. She had her hiends everywhere who brought her news of Edward. This friendship with Rivers and his son Scales was most strange. It was not long ago that they had been fighting the House of York. They had been staunch Lancastrians. Why, he'll be making a friend of Margaret of Anjou next, she thought. It was rather foolish with Henry of Lancaster, the man whom some people believed was the real king, wandering about somewhere in hiding in the North. How could Edward know that Rivers and his son were not traitors?

She would have a word with him about that.

She sought the first opportunity. She went to his bedchamber and imperiously dismissed those who were in attendance.

'Edward, we must talk alone.'

'Indeed we must,' said Edward, who had no wish to listen to her probing quesrions but would not have dreamed of telling her so.

Tama bit uneasy.'

'Dear Mother, when have you not been?'

'The times are not so easy that we can allow ourselves to shut our eyes to danger.'

'As usual you speak with wisdom.'

'What of these men . . . this Rivers and this Scales?'

'Good men, both of them.'

'Good men, who fought for the red rose!'

Edward put his hands on her shoulders and smiled down at her. His towering height gave him the advantage he felt he needed when dealing with his strong-minded mother.

'They are good men, my lady. I like them. I trust them.'

'Why should you do that? How long is it since they were our enemies?'

'They supported Henry because they had taken vows to do so. Henry was anointed and crowned King. They realize now that he is unfit to rule so they have given their allegiance to me.'

'/ would not trust them.'

'You do not have to,' said Edward with dignity. 'As long as I do that is all that is necessary.'

This was a new Edward, smiling affectionately as he spoke but with a firmness in his voice.

Cecily decided to drop the subject and turn to that of his marriage.

'Warwick is on excellent terms with the French King, I hear/

'Warwick has told you that?'

'My dear Edward, Warwick does not talk to me. But I hear these things. I know that arrangements are very far advanced for the wedding.'

'Wedding? What wedding?'

She stared at him in astonishment. 'Whose wedding would be of such importance . . . but yours.'

'Oh, mine . . .' said Edward with an attempt at vagueness.

'The sister of the King of France. That is fair enough. I believe Bona of Savoy is an attractive woman.'

'That may be,' said Edward.

'After the wedding it will be necessary for you to be more discreet. No one expects a man such as you to be faithful. . . but all this open adultery will have to stop.'

Edward remained silent. She did not notice that his expression had hardened.

She went on: 'The people laugh at your adventures. They like to think of you as the charming libertine. "Our wives are not safe," say the merchants, "when the King passes by." And they say it with a laugh, glad I suppose that you consider these women worth seducing. But it will have to change.'

'It will change,' he said. Then suddenly he said: 'My lady, I am of a mind to choose my own bride. Why should Warwick decide for me?'

'Warwick is negotiating as he knows so well how to. We can be sure that he will get the best possible terms from Louis.'

'I shall not marry Bona of Savoy,' said Edward.

'What! After it has gone so far? Is there someone else Warwick considers will bring more good to the country?'

'I have chosen my bride myself, and I shall marry her if it pleases me to do so.'

'You must tell me,' said Cecily.

'Why not,' replied Edward. 'She is Lady Grey, daughter of Lord Rivers.'

Cecily was speechless and Edward went on: 'She is a widow with two sons; she is a few years older than I. I love her dearly. She is the only woman I will marry and I am going to do so without delay.'

'Edward, you like to joke.'

'Yes,' he agreed, 'I like to joke. But this is no joke. This is

reality. I am going to marry Elizabeth Woodville.'

'Rivers' daughter you say. A woman of no rank!'

'Her mother is of the noble House of Luxembourg.'

'Who made a mesalliance! Her father is the son of a chamberlain to King Henry the Fifth.'

'You have discovered that. Why did you?'

'Because of your friendship with Rivers which I did not like at all and which I did not understand, but now I do. Of course you are joking. You have met this woman and you are attracted to her. Perhaps she is rather pleasant to look at.'

'She is the most beautiful woman I have ever seen.'

'They all are . . . for a night or two. I have seen you affected by the looks of some women many times. This is just another. A widow with two children!'

'By God's Blessed Lady, I am a bachelor and have some children too. Why cannot you see what a good sign this is? We have each given proof that neither of us is likely to be barren.'

'You joke,' insisted Cecily.

Edward was faintly alarmed. He had not meant to tell his mother but it had come out. Perhaps because he had made up his mind. But who knew what achon Cecily would take? He had been rash to speak.

He did not answer and he saw the relief in her face.

She slapped his arm playfully.

'You always did like to tease your mother,' she said.

There was news from Warwick in the North. The Lancastrians were by no means beaten there and until they had made Henry their captive there would continue to be risings.

Warwick was with Lord Montague and the former thought Edward should join them.

Edward therefore took leave of his family and set out. Cecily watched him go with pride. She had stopped thinking about that strange conversation. His latest inamorata was this Elizabeth Woodville she supposed. There would be another before long. Strange that talk about marriage! But she suspected it was because she had said something about Warwick's choosing his wife for him. No man liked to have another do that and that was why Edward had made this ridiculous suggestion.

It was nothing more than that. Edward's position was too unsettled for him to take such risks.

There he goes/ she said to her sons. 'Are you not proud to be his brothers?'

Richard declared with fervour that indeed he was, but George said nothing. He was wishing he was in Edward's shoes.

There was never a man more fitted to be king/ said Cecily and Richard heartily agreed.

Edward rode out of London. He had made up his mind. He was going to do it. He could wait no longer for Elizabeth and if marriage was the only way, then marriage it must be.

He sent a messenger on to Grafton with the news that he wished specially to see Lady Rivers. He wished her to arrange everything. She would understand.

As soon as Jacquetta received the message she went to Elizabeth who fortunately was at Grafton, for it would have meant delay to have to send for her.

'He is going to marry you,' Jacquetta told her daughter.

'I can't believe that.'

'I tell you he is. He has sent to me commanding me to make the arrangements.'

'It will have to be a proper marriage.'

'Do you think I will not see to that! I never dreamed of such triumph. I hoped of course . . . but that he should really give way, that is hard to believe.'

'You don't think there is some trap in it?'

'Of course not. I shall not tell your father.'

'No, he would be alarmed.'

'Yes, he would see all sorts of trouble. As for ourselves, we will get the marriage celebrated and think of difficulties afterwards.'

'They will never accept me . . . men like Warwick. . . .'

'My dear Elizabeth, you will have the King yours to command.'

'For how long?' asked Elizabeth cynically.

'For as long as you both live—if you act wisely.'

'There will be other women.'

'Of course there will be other women. Our stallion cannot be faithful to one mare. None but a fool would expect that. Let him have his women, Elizabeth. Understand his need for them, as long as you keep command of him and let none of the others do that. Think of what this is going to mean to the family.'

'I am afraid there will be some hitch.'

'I tell you there will be none. The ceremony will take place and then you will go to bed with him. You should get pregnant as soon as possible.'

That is a matter over which I shall have no control.'

'You will give him many children. A good fine lusty son is what will set everything to rights. And when you have that the people will forgive you ... if some of the mighty lords don't.'

'There is Warwick. What will he do?'

'As I see it Warwick's power is on the wane. This marriage will show others that as well as Warwick.'

'And do you thiiUc they will stand aside and give up their power?'

'They will have no alternative. We shall create new lords to stand by the King. They will be the ones who have the power.'

'New lords?'

'The Woodvilles, my dear daughter. We have a large family. This marriage is going to bring good . . . not only to you but to us all.'

'I shall not believe it until it happens.'

'That will be very soon. Now I must make sure we are ready when he comes.'

It was the end of April. Never had the trees flowered more richly. The horsechestnut, the hornbeam, the alder and the birch with the wild cherry were bright with springtime blossom. The birds seemed to have gone wild with joy as though they knew this was a time for rejoicing.

So thought Edward as he left his company at Stony Stratford and rode over to Grafton where Jacquetta was waiting for him.

'All is ready?' asked Edward.

'My dear lord, I have forgotten nothing.'

'Where is Elizabeth?' he demanded.

'She is waiting for you.'

'Take me to her.'

There she was in a blue robe looking very much as she had under the oak in Whittlebury Park, her long hair falling about her shoulders.

Edward took her eagerly into his arms.

'My love,' he said, 'at last. It has been long waiting for this day.'

'My dear husband,' replied Elizabeth. 'I too have waited for this day.'

'Let us get on with the ceremony/ said Edward. There must be no more delay/

Jacquetta was well prepared. She led him and Elizabeth to a chamber where a priest was waiting. There were also present two gentlewomen of Jacquetta's household and a young man who would sing with the priest.

The ceremony was performed and there at Grafton Manor, Elizabeth Woodville became the wife of Edward the Fourth.

As soon as the ceremony was over Jacquetta conducted the married pair to the bridal chamber which she had prepared.

Cursing because he must leave Grafton Edward rode back to Stony Stratford.

Hastings was astonished to find him so preoccupied.

'You have enjoyed good hunting, my lord,' he said. T see that.'

'Yes, Hastings, yes,' said Edward shortly and returned to his own chamber.

He was married. Elizabeth was his. There would be consequences but he did not care. It was worth it. It was the only way with a virtuous woman like Elizabeth. She was wonderful; she was beautiful; and he cared nothing for Warwick or any of them. He had said he would marry where he wanted to and he had.

The next day he said casually to Hastings: 'Before we move I shall send a message to Rivers and tell him I would like to stay a while at Grafton to enjoy some hunting in Whittlebury.'

'A pleasant spot,' replied Hastings and thought: So the Lady Elizabeth has been amenable after all. It must be the case. So many of them were reluctant at first. They thought it added to the pleasure of the chase.

And so to Grafton.

There Lord Rivers greeted him and there was an especial warmth in the greeting his lady gave to the King.

Elizabeth did not appear. I believe the virtuous lady is not at home, thought Hastings. In which case he probably does like the hunting. He seems on special terms with the lady Jacquetta but she is a little too mature to interest him I should have thought.

So discreet was Jacquetta that no one guessed that when they had retired she conducted the King to her daughter's bedchamber.

' pray she is pregnant before the storm breaks/ said Jacquetta to her husband. The people will at least be more lenient at the prospect of an heir.'

Her husband, less adventurous than his wife, was very alarmed by what they had done without consulhng him.

But Jacquetta shook her head. 'You will see what good comes of it for the family,' she told him.

And so Edward spent four days at Grafton where he was conducted every night to Elizabeth's chamber.

It was with great reluctance that he tore himself away. It was necessary. Warwick was waiting for him in the North.

He would tell no one—not even Hastings. As yet the marriage should be a secret; and although it could not remain so for long, he must choose the right moment to make it known.

In the meantime he could think of Elizabeth, long for Elizabeth and take every opportunity of being with her.

He was deeply in love as he had never been before. He regretted nothing.

THE QUEEN'S REVENGE

Edward paused at Leicester where he received news of battles in the North.

'It will be necessary for us to gather together more men/ he said. 'We should tarry here awhile until we have a larger army. I should think that in a week or so we should be ready.'

Hastings was amused. Groby Castle was not very far—an hour or so's riding and of course Groby Castle was part of that estate which Edward had so nobly returned to the widow of his old enemy Lord Grey.

Hastings smiled inwardly. So the ice maiden had relented. She had melted before the warmth of kingly passion. He was not surprised. It had happened that way before. He would help his friend all he could in his adventuring.

So they rested awhile at Leicester while Edward enjoyed a clandestine honeymoon riding over to Groby every day and staying there until early morning of the next.

It was charming, thought Hastings, but really there was no need for the lady to be so coy.

Warwick of course was getting impatient and they could not rest for ever and they had to go all too soon for Edward, whose passion was growing instead of abating. A very unusual state of affairs, thought Hastings. The lady must indeed be a real charmer. Perhaps when Edward tired of her—and he inevitably would—he, Hastings, might make her acquaintance.

Poor Edward, he was indeed downcast and it was impossible to lift his spirits. One thing Hastings had observed and that was that references to Lady Grey were coldly received, which indicated that the King undoubtedly was emotionally involved.

By the time the party reached York, Montague had won the

battles of Hedgley Moor and Hexham and he and Warwick had suppressed other small risings in the area.

Edward congratulated Montague and created him Earl of Northumberland. His victories had been spectacular. He had completely defeated Somerset at Hedgley Moor and at Hexham had been confronted by an army with which rode King Henry himself. The victory there seemed to have crushed the Lancastrian cause. Many of its leaders were killed. Unfortunately Henry himself had managed to escape.

'We must find Henry/ said Warwick. 'While he is at large there will be men to rally to his cause and that means danger. I shall not be happy until we have him in our hands.'

'He is too feeble to fight,' said Edward.

'Aye, but he will find others to fight for him. I like it not that he should be free—fugitive though he might be. Then there is the Prince, his son.'

'A boy!'

'Boys grow up. Let it be known that there will be big rewards for any who deliver Henry to us. I wonder what is brewing in Margaret's mind? I'll rest better when you have an heir which brings us back to the subject of your marriage. It must take place soon. We should let nothing stand in its way.'

Edward nodded. The moment for revelation had not yet arrived.

They came South. Warwick was intent on preparations for the French marriage. It seemed as though he were thinking of nothing else. It could not be long before he must be told for Edward could not allow him to go to France and draw up the contracts.

There was a matter for concern over the currency. There was a scarcity of bullion in the country and it was agreed that new coins must be minted. Hastings who was Master of the Mint had made Edward see the necessity for the changes and Edward threw himself into the scheme with enthusiasm. It was a success and in addition to the mints in London, Canterbury and York new ones were needed and were set up in Norwich, Coventry and Bristol.

The people did not like getting used to the new values of nobles, royals, angels and groats; but they accepted the changes

as necessary; and Edward found that the matter took people's minds off the vexed one of a foreign marriage for a while.

But it could not be delayed for much longer and the moment came at a council meeting which Warwick had called at Reading, Warwick's main purpose being to settle the final details before the embassy left for France to make the last arrangements for the King's marriage.

Edward was ready. I am the King, he thought. And I will let them know it—all of them and in particular Warwick.

Warwick spoke at length as usual. Everyone was in agreement that it was time the King was married. The country needed an heir and the King would agree that it was his duty to provide it.

Edward said with the utmost grace that he was entirely in agreement with them. There was nothing he wanted more than to give the country an heir and he had already chosen his bride.

He was conscious of the tension in the room. Warwick was studying him with some puzzlement.

T will have Elizabeth Woodville, the daughter of Lord Rivers, and none other.'

There was an astonished silence. At length one of the councillors spoke. 'She is a beautiful and virtuous lady, but not suitable to be the Queen of England.'

'Not suitable!' cried Edward. 'Why not? She is the one I have chosen for my Queen.'

'She is not the daughter of a duke or an earl.'

'Her mother was the Duchess of Bedford. She is of the noble House of Luxembourg.'

'The Duchess of Bedford married a humble squire, my lord.'

'Have done,' cried Edward. 'There is nothing you can say that will move me, for I have already married the lady.'

The astonishment in the council chamber was so overwhelming that no one had anything to say.

The King walked out without looking at the Earl of Warwick who was sitting staring ahead.

So the King was married! First the Court, then the country was agog with the news.

How had she managed it? She had bewitched the King. Stories were circulated. He had tried to seduce her; she had threatened to

kill herself with a dagger if he approached her; he had been trapped into marriage. How could an accomplished libertine be so securely trapped? There was one answer. It was witchcraft. Jacquetta, Lady Rivers—the Duchess of Bedford that was—had brought this about and all knew that she was a sorceress. There was wild conjecture as to how she had slipped a potion into his wine when he visited Grafton; how he had been led as a sleepwalker to attend that ceremony which had made humble Elizabeth Woodville a queen.