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Authors: Bertrice Small

BOOK: A Dangerous Love
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“In your travels along the border, Uncle, have you been in the vicinity of Stanton?”

“I have. Your parents have been buried, with stones to mark their graves on the hillside. Those not slain in the raid have rebuilt the village and cleared the hall of debris. When I saw what they were doing I sent a small purse and a few of my own people to help them. You told me it rained shortly after the hall was fired. Those rains saved your home, Adair. That and the fact that the house was stone. The roof was gone, but I have had it replaced with slate. It will not burn again. A good deal has been pillaged from among the furnishings, but your home is still there. I told the Stanton folk that you had escaped with Elsbeth and were in the king’s care. They are glad to know it.”

“I want to go back to Stanton so very much,” Adair said earnestly.

“You will go back when you have a husband,” Lady Margaret said. “You would be wed by now but that Elizabeth desires your company until she is married.”

“Why can I not go back now?” Adair asked. “The king could appoint a bailiff for me from among his own trusted servants. Stanton should have its mistress overseeing it again, and I am old enough now to go. And have you not taught me everything a good chatelaine needs to know to manage her own estates, dear Lady Margaret?”

“You are a maid of good birth and gentle breeding,”

Lady Margaret said. “It would not do for you to be alone at Stanton, Adair. The king would never permit it.”

“I want to go home!” Adair cried. Suddenly, knowing that Stanton still stood had awakened in her a deep desire for Northumbria, her own home, her own lands. She turned to Elizabeth of York. “Bessie, you do not really need me here with you. Tell your father that you would let me go.”

“Are you really so unhappy here with us?” Elizabeth of York wanted to know.

Adair thought, and then she answered her half sister,

“Aye and nay, if that makes any sense to you, Bessie. I love you all, and I am grateful for all you have done for me these ten years past. But now that I know Stanton awaits me I feel the need to return.”

Elizabeth of York sighed. “I love you too,” she said.

“If it means that much to you, dearest Adair, then I will tell our father that you wish to go.”

“I will speak with my brother,” the duke said, “and you, my sweet Bessie, will agree with me that it is time for Adair to return north.”

“I do not think this is wise,” Lady Margaret said.

“When it is known that a young girl, the Countess of Stanton herself, is back in the hall, who knows what may happen? We both know, my lord duke, the danger of ambitious men. I fear for Adair alone at Stanton.”

“But I will not be alone,” Adair said. “I will have my Stanton folk with me, and if danger threatens I will slip out through the tunnel I used as a child, and ride for Uncle Dickon at Middlesham.”

“The decision must be the king’s,” Lady Margaret said, “however, I must let it be known that I do not approve at all. It is a rash and foolish plan you have devised, Adair.”

“The king will listen to Uncle Dickon,” Adair said, her violet eyes dancing with happiness. “And Beiste is growing old, and should go home before his end.”

“The dog still lives?” The duke was surprised.

Lady Margaret nodded. “Do you recall how scrawny he was when they arrived? Well, now he is a mountain 
of a dog, but I will admit the children all adore him, and he them. I never thought to have a dog in my nursery, but he has been more help than difficulty to me these years past. But Adair is right. He is growing old, and moves slower now than in times past.”

“He needs to be before the fire in his own hall,” Adair said firmly.

Her companions laughed at her reasoning.

“I think I must speak with my brother soon,” the duke remarked.

“Today!” Adair told him firmly.

“Very well, you stubborn minx. Today,” the duke said.

Adair grinned archly at him. “Thank you, Uncle Dickon,” she said.

The duke stood up. “I will go and seek out Edward now,” he told them with a bow. And then he departed.

He knew where his brother would be—with Jane Shore.

And sure enough, he found them in the king’s apartments playing chess.

“Richard!” The king arose to embrace his brother.

Then he turned to his mistress. “Run along now, Jane. I will see you later.”

Jane Shore arose obediently, and with a curtsy hurried away.

“Thank you,” the duke said.

“I know you dislike my profligate ways, as our mother calls them.” The king chuckled. He was fat now with his indulgences. “Will you have some wine?” He gestured to his page, who had been standing by, and waved his own large goblet at the boy, who hurried to fill it while handing the duke a goblet of his own. “Sit down, sit down,” the king invited his brother. “Anne and Neddie are well? The north is still quiet?”

“The Scots keep to their side of the border,” the duke said. “I’ve come to talk to you about Adair Radcliffe.

She wants to go home to Stanton.”

“Isn’t it a ruin?” the king asked.

“No. The walls were stone. The roof burned, but I 
have had it repaired so the house would not deteriorate.

Enough villagers survived and have rebuilt Stanton village. But they need their mistress. The girl will be sixteen shortly. Lady Margaret has taught her everything she needs to know about being a chatelaine. It is time.”

“She’ll need a husband,” the king said.

“She doesn’t want one,” the duke told him. “At least, not yet. She wants time to renew her acquaintance with Stanton without a husband overseeing her every move.

She wants a bailiff from among your servants to help her.” The duke quaffed half of his cup, then looked directly at his brother. “It’s a reasonable request.”

“Jasper Tudor has a bastard he particularly favors, and has been hinting to me through Mags that a marriage between the lad and one of my daughters, not Elizabeth, would suit him. I’m not of a mind to give him one of the queen’s girls, but I could give him Adair. Any disappointment Tudor felt would be mitigated by the fact that his son would gain an earldom by the marriage.”

“Adair will not have it,” the duke said quietly.

“I am her sire, and she will do what I tell her,” the king replied stubbornly. “If she would go home to Stanton then she must take Jasper Tudor’s son for her husband.

It is the solution to both of our problems, Richard.” He chuckled. “Mags lobbies again for a marriage between her son, the Lancaster heir, and my Bessie. But I think to match my oldest daughter with the young Dauphin Charles, Louis’s son. She will be queen of France, Richard, and that is far better than Countess of Rich-mond, you will agree.”

“I do,” the duke said. “But why give Adair, then, to the Tudors?”

“Because Jasper has asked for one of the king’s daughters, while Mags lobbies for her son, Henry Tudor of Lancaster, to wed my Bessie,” the king repeated.

“While I will refuse Mags, I will honor Jasper, and thus keep the Tudors in check. Eventually I may give one of 
my other girls, Cicely perhaps, to Henry. But my Bessie will be a queen.”

“I think Adair will not cooperate with you, Edward,” 
the duke warned his brother.

“It is true I do not know her well, Richard, but on the occasions I have seen her she seemed placid and sweet enough. She will do as she is told, brother.”

The duke laughed loudly. “You do not know her then, Edward. Adair may look like her mother, Jane Radcliffe, but she is your daughter in that she is stubborn and will have her own way in spite of it all. When you attempt to force her to the altar you will learn that to your sorrow.”

“If she is that difficult then it is time she had a husband to keep her in check. That company of women she keeps with Mags and my daughters is not good for Adair. She has obviously begun to think above her station,” the king decided. “She will marry Llywelyn FitzTudor as soon as I can arrange it.” Edward drank down the content of his goblet. “And if Jasper’s by-blow quickly puts a son in her belly, so much the better.”

Richard of Gloucester shook his head. Adair wasn’t going to like this at all. The duke considered his options, and decided it would be better if his favorite niece were made aware of the fate awaiting her. Perhaps she could convince the king of his folly in attempting to match her without her consent. Concluding his visit with his brother, the duke left the king and sought out Adair once more. Taking her aside he said, “I have news for you of a nature you may not like, poppet.”

“The king will not let me go home,” Adair replied, shaking her head wearily.

“Oh, he will let you go home, poppet, but the price for your return is that you must take a husband of his choosing. And he has chosen Jasper Tudor’s favorite bastard for the honor,” the duke said.

“I won’t marry him,” Adair said quietly.

“If the king says you will marry, you will marry, poppet. You must gain his ear and reason with him. No one else can,” the duke advised her.

“I know the Tudors seek to align themselves with the king’s family,” Adair said slowly, “but I am hardly that link. I have no importance.”

“But you are my wily brother’s natural daughter, poppet, and you are recognized as such. So the Tudors get one of the king’s daughters as well as an earldom in a union with you. And Bessie is kept for bigger things,”

the duke pointed out.

“The Dauphin Charles,” Adair said. “I know that those negotiations are ongoing, Uncle, but why force me to the altar with a Tudor?”

“Mags also seeks a match for her son, Henry Tudor,” 
the duke replied. “You, of course, would not suit, given the circumstances of your birth, but one of Edward’s younger daughters would. Mags is satisfied. And her brother-in-law, Jasper, is satisfied, for while you are the king’s brat, his son also comes from the other side of the blanket. And you bring the lad a title.”

“I remember you once told me of the value I had by just that alone,” Adair said slowly. “But, Uncle, I am not of a mind to marry a Tudor. Especially one I don’t know.

Where is this fellow that he has been kept from court?

What is his name?”

“He is Llywelyn FitzTudor,” the duke said. “I know nothing more of him other than that, poppet. Speak to the king. It is your only chance, Adair. Remember that you owe him for all these years he has sheltered and cared for you. You must do your duty.”

Adair sought out the king. In the ten years she had lived in the royal nurseries she had spoken with him but briefly on perhaps half a dozen occasions. But as he was still alone she dared to ask for an audience. She was ushered into the king’s privy chamber.

“Come in, come in,” the king said. “Let me look at you, child. You have grown into quite a pretty young 
woman, I see. Your mother was your age when I knew her.”

Adair curtsied low to the king. He did not ask her to sit down. “My liege, my uncle, the duke, says you would match me shortly so that I might return to Stanton. I do not wish to wed yet, if it would please you.”

The king looked at Adair with blue eyes that suddenly turned hard. “It does not please me, mistress. The decision on your marriage, my lady Countess of Stanton, will not rest with you. Jasper Tudor wishes one of my daughters for one of his sons.”

“One of his bastards,” Adair said sharply.

“Then it is fitting that one of my bastards marries one of Jasper Tudor’s,” the king replied cruelly, giving her a cold look. “Remember that I am your father as well as your king, my lady Countess of Stanton.”

“You may have sired me on my mother, my liege, but you have never been my father. John Radcliffe, God assoil his good soul, was my father. I bear his name. He recognized me as his own. You will not call me misbe-gotten because of your unbridled lust.” She stared back at the king angrily, refusing to lower her eyes before him.

“By the rood, you are my blood nonetheless!” Edward of York said angrily. “I have sheltered you these ten years past. You have never been mistreated in my house. I am your lawful guardian, and you owe me your duty, Adair Radcliffe. You will marry whoever I say you will marry. And I have chosen Llywelyn FitzTudor for your husband. There will be no further discussion of the matter. Do you understand me, my lady Countess of Stanton? It is time you had a husband to teach you your place. You will wed Llywelyn FitzTudor, and the sooner the better, I am thinking!”

“Nay, I will not!” Adair shouted at the king. And then she ran from the chamber.

Edward watched her go, a small smile touching his lips.
Now, if her mother had had the spirit and fire of this 
royal brat
, he thought,
I should have never let her go
. He shouted for his page. “Fetch the Earl of Pembroke to me, my lad,” he said to the boy.

The page hurried off, returning almost an hour later with Jasper Tudor in tow.

“Give him some wine,” the king ordered the page; then, turning to the Earl of Pembroke, he said without any preamble, “I will give you my natural daughter Adair Radcliffe, the Countess of Stanton, for your natural son Llywelyn.”

The Earl of Pembroke’s face showed no reaction at all. “I had hoped for one of the queen’s girls,” he said quietly.

“Adair’s dower is goodly,” the king replied. “And your son will become Earl of Stanton by his marriage to her, for she is countess in her own right. I want someone in the north I can trust. Someone who will keep an eye on the Nevilles and the Percys for me. I do not give Adair lightly, my lord.”

“Tell me her worth, my liege,” Pembroke said matter-of-factly.

“A large stone house in good repair. Much grazing land. A village that has been rebuilt over the last ten years, with its own church, mill, and blacksmith’s foundry. She will have one hundred pieces of gold from me, as I promised the Radcliffes when she was born. She has jewelry, garments, linens, other items too numerous to mention, and a servant,” the king said. “She is an heiress, and a virgin of good repute.”

“Livestock?” Pembroke asked sharply.

“Driven off by the Scots and the Radcliffes’ neighbors,” the king admitted. “But your lad should bring something to the marriage besides his carcass, my lord.”

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