Текст книги "The Sun in Splendour"

Автор книги: Jean Plaidy

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 25 страниц)

Yes, that was the favourite theory. It was done by sorcery.

The people were inclined to smile at their King. They did not like foreigners. Heaven knew the last King's marriage had brought them the virago from Anjou. They wanted no more like her.

Tt is a love match,' said the people of London. 'God bless his handsome face. He has fallen in love with her and why should these mighty nobles try to spoil his happiness by bringing over a French woman for him. God bless the King and God bless the Queen if she is the one he wants.'

But whatever was said everyone was talking of the King's , marriage.

Richard was back at Middleham. He liked the fresh northern air and it was good to see the Countess and his second cousins again.

Francis Lovell, son of Lord Lovell who was also being brought up at Middleham, was there and he and Francis were great friends. There was a warmth of affection for him at Middleham which he had not quite found in his own home.

There was always a great deal to talk about when he returned after being away. He, Francis and Anne would ride out on the Yorkshire moors and somehmes lie stretched on the grass while their horses drank from a stream and they could talk of what they would do in the future. Sometimes Isabel was with them, but she was delicate and tired rather easily. So did Anne, but she was so eager to be with the boys that she tried to forget her weakness. Richard often thought how strange it was that a strong man like the Earl of Warwick should have only two weak daughters, and not one son to bear his name.

How different it had been in His family. Of course some of them had died. There was Henry William and John and Thomas among the boys. The girls had taken a stronger grip on life except little Ursula who was the last and had been born some five or sbc years before the death of their father.

Then there was Edmund who had been slain in battle. Richard would never forget the day when the news had been brought to him of his brother's death, because it had been at the same time as that of his father, and Edmund's head had been stuck up on the walls of York with that of the Duke.

Edward had said they must forget all that. There were three of the boys left: himself, George and Richard.

'We must always stand together,' Edward had said. 'Do you think anyone could harm us then?'

'No one would ever challenge you, brother,' Richard had replied.

Edward liked that. Edward was so magnificent in every way. He was good as well as great, and yet he had always had the time to think about his brothers and sisters.

Richard had told Anne that while Edward reigned they need never fear anything.

Anne had replied that while her father and Edward stood together none could come against them.

Francis Lovell pointed out that some had tried to do that and there had been battles.

That was true, agreed Richard, who hated to diverge from the truth just to win a point. But his brother had won in the end and it was the last battle that counted.

'The last battle,' he said, 'has been won at Hexham. Poor Henry is wandering from place to place fearful of capture. They will get him of course and then. . . .'

They looked at him wanting to know what would happen when Henry was captured.

Richard said: 'My brother will know what to do.'

His brother always knew what to do. How wonderful he had been at his coronation—^but not aloof by any means. Ever ready with a smile and a nod of approval every time his eyes fell on his young brother. Looking a little anxious as he touched the boy's shoulder, wondering whether his armour was too heavy for him, asking how he fared at Middleham.

Richard remembered how, after the second battle of St Albans,

he and George had been sent to Utrecht by their mother. That had been one of the most unhappy hmes of his life because he had known that Edward must be in difficulties for them to be sent away. But it had been a short stay—they left in February and as soon as Edward was proclaimed King he sent for them.

What joy to see him again! He was even grander than before—a King indeed. When Richard spoke his name—and he invariably said 'My brother', George had said it was as though he were talking of God.

Edward was a god—Richard's God.

Richard would never forget the time when he and George had been sent to the house of John Paston when their mother went to join their father at Hereford. It had been sad to part from their mother and go into a strange house; but Edward had been in London and every day he had called at the Paston house to see his young brothers.

George had said: 'So he should. We're his brothers, are we not?'

'But it is wonderful that he has hme to see us . . . that he makes time to come,' Richard pointed out.

George shrugged his shoulders. Richard read the thoughts in George's eyes. He was jealous. He was-always talking of the perversity of fate which brought people into the world at the wrong time. George thought that if he had been the first-bom he would have been as wonderful and as suitable to be King as Edward.

What nonsense!

They lay on the grass together—he, Anne and Francis Lovell; they looked lazily from the wide expanse of sky to their horses standing quietly by. This was contentment. These were the people he loved. If Edward came riding over the rough grass now he would be completely content. Francis and he understood each other; he had made Francis aware of Edward's greatness and Francis, being his very good friend, accepted what he said. Anne's father, the great Earl of Warwick, was Edward's staun-chest supporter. It was a lovely cosy feeling to be among friends.

'Dickon is so proud of his new badge,' said Anne. 'You kept touching it, Dickon,' she added.

'It is a rather nice one,' said Richard.

'Read it out to us,' said Anne because she knew he liked to do that.

Richard read loudly and clearly: 'Loyaulte me lie.'

Anne clapped her hands. 'It is the most honourable thing in a man/ she said. 'Loyalty to what he believes in.'

'It means/ said Richard with a faint colour in his usually pale cheeks, 'Loyalty to the King. That is my brother Edward. My loyalty to him will never falter.'

'You are so proud of being brother to the King/ she said, smiling at him.

He nodded and she thought: I suppose I must be proud to be the daughter of the Kingmaker. But one did not mention the Kingmaker to Richard. He did not like the suggestion that his godlike brother owed anything to anyone—even Anne's father.

But she knew that he delighted in the friendship of her father and his brother.

Francis looked at the louring clouds and said he thought they should go back to Middleham.

When they reached the castle there were signs of activity there. There had been important arrivals. Richard's heart leaped with hope. Perhaps it was Edward.

It was not, but it was the great Earl himself.

He was in a strange mood and it was clear that he was displeased about something. The mood of the great man must affect the entire castle and everyone was clearly rather unhappy.

Richard wondered whether he might ask what was wrong. He was about to but the Countess threw a warning glance at him, and he was silent.

He did say: 'My lord, have you seen my brother of late?'

'I have indeed,' was the answer, and it sounded like a growl. It was clearly forbidding Richard to say more.

The Countess was eager to discover what had happened and when the Earl told her she could scarcely believe it.

'It's true,' he said. 'We're going to have a coronation. Richard should prepare to leave for London at once.'

'Elizabeth Woodville! I cannot believe it.'

'Nor could any of us until it was shown to be true. We thought he was joking.'

'But he has had so many mistresses . . . why marry this one?'

'By all accounts marriage was a condition of surrender and he was so bemused he gave way to it. I begin to wonder whether I have put the right man on the throne.'

That her husband was more disturbed than he betrayed

himself to be, the Countess was fully aware. He had governed the King for so long that this was a bitter surprise when the King turned on him and made it quite clear that in future he would manage his own affairs.

'It's disaster/ said Warwick. 'The Woodvilles . . . the woman's rapacious mother. . . . You'll see what happens. We shall have the Woodvilles everywhere and they are a large family.'

The King will quickly tire of her. He always tires of them.'

That is our hope. Then of course we must see about arranging a divorce and a new marriage which will bring good to the country.'

'Richard, what are you going to do?'

He looked at her steadily. He was not accustomed to discussing affairs with her. He was very fond of her. She had been the best possible of wives. He should be grateful, for as one of the biggest heiresses in the country she had brought him the title of Warwick and the vast wealth which had helped to make it possible for him to rise to his present position.

He said: 'I do not know. So much will depend on what comes from this.'

That was the truth.

He sent for Richard.

'You must prepare yourself to leave for London,' he told him. 'A most distressing thing has happened. Your brother. . . .'

Mists swam before Richard's eyes. He grasped at the table by which he was standing. Something had happened to Edward and the way in which Warwick was looking might indicate that he was no longer the King's friend.

'My brother . . .'he murmured, for Warwick had hesitated.

'It is so grievous that I can hardly bring myself to speak of it. Your brother has married . . . without consulting the Council. . . without consulting meV

'Married to ... to Bona of Savoy?'

'Good God no. If only it were so. He has married a woman of low birth. A most unsuitable alliance. His wife is Lady Grey, Elizabeth Woodville daughter of Lord Fevers.'

'But I thought it was to be a French marriage.'

'So did we all. So should it have been. But your brother has taken this rash act.'

'What will happen?'

'That remains to be seen. At this time we have this marriage. It

is a true one and cannot be denied. So now we have a Queen . . . Queen Elizabeth Woodville/

Warwick managed to force a great deal of contempt into his voice.

'I am sure my brother. . . /

There is one thing you can be sure of. He has made a great mistake and we do not know what the outcome of this will be. And now we have to attend her coronation, God help us. God help the nation. God help the King. The folly of it is past understanding.'

Richard was angry. He hated Warwick in that moment. He drew himself up to his full height which was not very great and fingering the badge on his jacket he said: T am sure that whatever my brother has done is right.'

Richard was dismayed on arriving at Baynard's Castle where he was to join his mother to find that she was in a furious mood.

George, who was already at the Castle, told him that she had been so since she had heard the news of Edward's marriage.

'She says she will never take second place to the low-bom Elizabeth, even if she is the Queen.' Clarence was amused. Richard had always known that he enjoyed discomfiture in others.

'And why should she?' he demanded. 'She is of our royal blood. And this woman . . . she is a nobody. I cannot understand what possessed Edward.'

'Edward would not have married her unless he had a very good reason for doing so.'

That made George laugh. 'He has his reasons most certainly. She must have something very special to tempt him.' His eyes were speculative. 'I wonder what.'

Richard hated any references to Edward's sexual life. It did not quite fit in with the noble qualities with which he had endowed him.

'I am sure,' he said staunchly, 'that Edward has acted wisely. We shall discover that to be so in due course.'

'You are a foolish boy, Richard. You see no farther than your nose. What are all the noble families going to say? What is the King of France going to say? And what is Warwick going to say?'

'He will serve the King as all good men should.'

'There is one thing I know. Edward's most faithful subject is his brother Richard. You're going to wake up one day, brother, and you will find that your god is only human after all.'

Richard was silent. There were times when he heartily disliked George. He himself was certainly uneasy about the marriage but he had made up his mind that if Edward wanted it he was going to want it too.

He turned away from George and looked out at the Thames flowing by just below the castle walls. He gazed along the water to the grey walls of the Tower and prayed fervently that all would go well for Edward and a resentment arose in him against George who seemed so pleased at the prospect of trouble, at his mother who was so haughty and declared she would not see the low-bom Queen, and towards Warwick who dared to think he knew better than the King!

Edward meanwhile was delighted with his bride. He was relieved too that the secret was out. If he had a chance to go back he would do exactly the same again. It was hard to define what it was about Elizabeth which so enthralled him. She was by no means passionate; she was aloof, cold even; he sometimes wondered whether her hold over him was that she presented a continual challenge. He was always attempting to arouse something which was not there. And of course she was incomparably beautiful—strangely enough in a different mould from beauties who had attracted him in the past. Her clear-cut features were as Hastings had once said, like those of a statue; and he was never quite sure what was going on behind those beautiful blue-grey heavy-lidded eyes. With her long luxuriant hair falling about her firm white body she moved him as he had never been moved before and he could say to himself: A plague on Louis. A plague on Warwick. Neither of them is going to stop my having Elizabeth.

Rather unexpectedly Warwick had decided not to offer any reprimand and long lecture on the harm that had been done. That was wise of Warwick. Edward would have been ready for him and Warwick would have learned once and for all that the King was no longer his to command. Warwick stayed silent, and when presented to Elizabeth showed all the respect that Edward, or even Elizabeth, could have asked.

Warwick had given his anger time to simmer down and it was

no longer at boiling point and therefore dangerous. It was there, as deep and strong as ever, but under control. He could see what had happened and blamed himself for not realizing it was coming. Edward was on the point of breaking away and would do so on this delicate matter of his marriage. The weakening chain must be repaired quickly and an appropriate moment chosen to slip on the leading-reins.

In the meantime he would show Edward that he accepted Elizabeth as Queen and would do his best to repair any damage that had been done to relations with France. He would try not to show how bitterly he resented having been made to look foolish in the eyes of the King of France who by this clandestine marriage had proved that he, Warwick, was not in the King's confidence.

'I made him. I put him on the throne. He would be nothing without me.' So he had ranted to his Countess.

To Edward he smiled affably and discussed the arrangements for the Queen's coronation.

First Edward wanted to present her to the nobles of the land and he would do that in Reading Abbey.

Tt is meet and fitting,' he said, 'that Clarence should lead her in. As heir presumptive to the throne it is his place to do that.'

Edward was smiling complacently. He was certain that soon there would be an heir to push Clarence aside. Both he and Elizabeth had proved—as he had told his mother—that they were not likely to be barren.

Warwick smiled grimly to himself. He could imagine Clarence's feelings. That boy had ambitions. He had half hoped that Edward would never marry and then his own great ambition would be realized.

Not you, thought Warwick. I would prefer Richard—a good serious boy, loyal to his brother. I could mould him. But Clarence . . . no, too vain. Too much superficial charm that is soon shown to be worthless. Clarence is no good. But that woman and Edward will have a brood of children I doubt not, for Edward will go to the making of them with an enthusiasm he has for little else.

So Clarence was to lead her in. His mother was furious, but he had to do it. He had to obey the King rather than his mother. It was an amusing situation. They'll not endure it, he thought. Warwick is seething. So are some of the others. They are setting up together against the Woodvilles already.

And here was the Queen. There was no doubt of her beauty. It

was breath-taking. She was the sort of woman who was naturally regal. She was tall and therefore looked well beside Edward. He dwarfed most women. Her glorious hair fell about her shoulders and down to her knees and on her head was a crown of gems the points of which were formed in the shape of fleur-de-lys. She held her head high but her heavy lids were drawn down over her eyes and she looked at no one. Her gown was of blue, that colour which suited her above all others, and it was decorated with stripes of gold brocade; the sleeves were tight and the bodice close-fitting; and there was an ermine border about the skirt. Her shoes were very pointed and she picked her way daintily but with sure-footed resolution towards the nobles who were waiting to do homage to her.

Everyone's eyes were on Warwick. He knelt before her. He took her hand and kissed it.

Clarence was disappointed. He was hoping for trouble.

Warwick could not have behaved more agreeably if the bride had been of his choice. No one would guess from his attitude how deeply the resentment was smouldering within him.

Just over a year after the secret marriage Elizabeth was crowned in Westminster Abbey.

It was Whitsunday and Elizabeth had been staying at Eltham Palace. Edward was keeping Court at the Palace of the Tower where he awaited the arrival of the Queen. As she came into London the mayor and the city leaders in all their colourful uniforms met her at Shooters Hill in order to form part of the procession which conducted her through Southwark to the Tower.

Edward was so proud of her, and he was delighted, too, that Warwick had after the first shock accepted her. If it occurred to him that Warwick might not be quite so reconciled as he appeared to be, Edward dismissed the thought. He hated trouble and all through his life he had pretended it did not exist, until the last minute when it had to be faced. Then he faced it with a nonchalance which was characteristic of him. He believed he could overcome every difficulty with his charm and grace—and often he did.

Elizabeth was carried from the Tower to the Abbey in her litter

and the Londoners came out to marvel at her beauty and to look at the King whom they so much admired; and they thought the marriage was so romantic and just what they would have expected of their handsome King.

Edward was delighted that the Count of St Pol, the brother of Jacquetta, had accepted the invitation to attend the coronation because he gave a certain standing to the bride and reminded the people that although her father was a humble knight, her mother came from the noble House of Luxembourg. As for the Count who had vowed he never wanted to see his sister again, he was completely reconciled; his sister's daughter having become Queen of England completely expiated her sin in marrying beneath her.

And after the coronation there was the grand banquet in Westminster Hall where the King sat beside his Queen and showed by his demeanour his immense satisfaction with the proceedings.

Jacquetta looked on with the utmost sahsfaction. Who would have believed she could have brought Elizabeth to this?

It was wonderful. Already her daughter was bringing good fortune to the family. She and Elizabeth discussed at length the grand marriages there should be for the members of the family. There, close to the King, sat her daughter Catherine, now the Duchess of Buckingham, elevated through her marriage to the Duke into one of the richest and most important families in the land. So should it be for the others.

Very soon the Woodvilles should be the leading family in the country, outdoing even the Nevilles.

Perhaps the most satisfied woman in the country that day, apart from the bride, was the bride's mother. It was a very different case with the bridegroom's mother.

She had refused to attend the ceremony. She, Proud Cis, who at Fotheringay when her husband had been Protector of the Land had lived in the state of a Queen, with a receiving room where she gave audiences and where she had enforced royal etiquette on all those who came into contact with her—must now stand by and watch the low-bom daughter of a chamberlain's son take precedence over her!

No, Proud Cis would not accept Elizabeth Woodville as Queen.

Edward however was delighted with life. He was still in love with Elizabeth. There had already been minor infidelities it was true but they did not seem to matter. Elizabeth never asked about them. He wondered if she heard rumours for he had been rather indiscreet with a certain lady of the Court. Their affair had lasted a week before he was longing for the cool, aloof charms of Elizabeth.

He had discovered that he did not want his relationship with his Queen impaired in any way and he had suffered a qualm or so of uneasiness; but if she knew, and he thought she might, for those cool hooded eyes missed little, she gave no sign. When he muttered some excuses about his absences, she waved them aside.

T know full well that you will always have matters which take you from my side. I never forget that you are the King.'

He loved her more than ever. No reproaches! She just gave him cool calm understanding.