Jean Plaidy (8 page)

My father returned from France.

At Middleham we waited in some trepidation to see what would happen next. I know my mother wished we were at Warwick Court in London rather than Middleham, so that she would have been closer to events. As it was, we had to wait until news was brought to us, which was very frustrating.

It seemed a long time before my father arrived at Middleham and when he did, none could help but be aware of his smoldering rage; and in the heart of his family he let it burst forth.

“The King has chosen Burgundy!” he said. “He will now be the enemy of France. Everything I have worked for has been thrown away at the instigation of these traitors.”

We all knew that the traitors were the Woodvilles, for all the troubles dated back to the king's marriage. If only it had ended there. But the woman whom the king had married was surrounded by scheming relations and they had determined to set themselves up and rule England in place of the Nevilles.

The great disaster was that they were succeeding.

I learned what had happened later. It seemed certain that the king's sister was destined to become the Duchess of Burgundy. Moreover, when an embassy from the King of France arrived in England its members were coldly received.

“There was no one to meet them,” said my father, “except myself and Clarence! Clarence has been my friend in this.”

That pleased Isabel.

“Of course, he would be father's friend,” she said. “He is going to be his son-in-law.”

I looked at her sadly and prayed she would not be disappointed. She would be miserable if anything stopped the marriage she had set her heart on.

“I asked the king to see them and he agreed,” I heard my father tell my mother. “He was reluctant, but it was less trouble to see them than make an issue of it by refusing. But all the time he was listening to them he appeared bored and inattentive. Clarence was a great help with them. They thought him charming but, of course, it could not make up for the king's manner. I apologized to them. I told them I was ashamed. Do you know what they said to me? ‘Do not distress yourself, my lord earl. You will be avenged.'”

My mother tried to soothe him, but there was little she could do.

“Our enemies have taken the Great Seal from my brother,” went on my father. “Do you realize what this means? The king has declared for Burgundy and most blatantly has he done this while I was on a mission to France.”

“It is very upsetting,” replied my mother. “If you had been here it could not have happened.”

“It is war,” cried my father. “Yes, this is war between the Nevilles and the Woodvilles—and that means war between Warwick and the king.”

         

It was rarely that my father spent so much time at home, but these were days of activity. There was much coming and going at the castle. One of the first to arrive was Uncle George—one-time Chancellor and now only Archbishop of York.

His anger was as fierce as that of my father—but perhaps, I thought, that was because he was less able to control it. For my father there had been only hints and signs; for the archbishop there had been an unmistakable blow. He would never forget the insult of the king's arrival at his London palace to demand the return of the Seal; and at this time he was obsessed by the thought of revenge.

His rage had been exacerbated by a definite insult from the king. When Edward had discovered that Uncle George was in secret negotiations not only for the dispensation needed by Clarence and Isabel, but for the support of his election to the College of Cardinals, the king himself had put forward a candidate—Thomas Bourchier, who was the Archbishop of Canterbury. What made this so intolerable was that Bourchier was elected and Edward sent a personal message to Uncle George telling him so.

Uncle George said, “It is time the king was taught a lesson.”

“That is so,” agreed my father. “But we should have to be very sure of success before we undertook the task of doing it.”

Members of the family were gathering at Middleham. Even the most obscure were making their way to us to assure my father of their loyalty to the family.

Clarence came and, to my great delight, Richard was with him.

Richard was bewildered. I was sure he did not know what this was all about. His brother had brought him with him and Richard at first had clearly expected this to be a friendly call on the man whom, next to his brother, he admired more than any other in the kingdom.

Isabel said to me when we were alone, “It is because of our marriage that they have come. I think the king may try to stop it now that he is not on friendly terms with our father.”

“Oh, Isabel, I do hope it does not go as far as that.”

“Think of the way the king has treated Uncle George! My George is very angry with his brother. He says the Woodvilles have ruined him and he is too weak to resist them. What sort of a king is that?”

“Be careful what you say.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “George says that Edward is showing himself unworthy to be king. George says…”

I turned away. George was a very indiscreet young man. I had always suspected that, and now I knew it was true.

When Isabel and I were alone with our mother, she said, “I want to talk to you girls very seriously. You know there is trouble between the king and our family. You must not listen to gossip and you must guard your tongues. You must not be tempted to say anything that could be construed as treason.”

“Is my father going to war with the king?” asked Isabel.

“Hush, hush! I never heard such nonsense. Of course not. It is just a difference of opinion. Your father is the king's most loyal subject, as he always was.”

Isabel pursed her lips and smiled. She had her own views and I could see that my mother was very disturbed.

Isabel talked indiscreetly but—I hoped—only to me, which did not count. George was evidently equally indiscreet if what she told me was true.

“George says his brother is ruining the realm,” she said. “He spends most of his time with women…not the queen…though she knows about it and says nothing. She never protests as long as he lets her family have all the best positions in the country. That's no way to rule a kingdom. So…well…what if he were no longer king…?”

“What do you mean?” I cried.

“There are others who could take the crown.”

“You mean…?”

She smiled and I followed her reasoning. She was seeing herself in a crown, receiving the homage of her husband's subjects. Isabel, Queen of England.

“And you…well, after all, you
are
my sister. George has a brother and I think you do not exactly dislike him.”

“Richard!”

“Why not? With our father and all the Nevilles…and the brothers of the ex-king…his sons-in-law. Well, you see…”

“It is not possible.”

“I tell you, it is…and we are going to see that it is.”

“Who?”

“George…my father…,” she answered.

That was wild talk, but I was not entirely dismayed to hear it. I was of an age when many girls in my position would find themselves betrothed to men whom they had never seen before—yet so far nothing had been said about a husband for me. If Isabel was suitable for the Duke of Clarence then I could be for the Duke of Gloucester. In the old days it might have been a possibility but that was before this unhappy state had arisen bringing strife between my father and the king. Richard would have to marry where his brother, the king, wished him to, and so would Clarence.

I did have an opportunity of talking to Richard, and I felt a little embarrassed when I did so.

“What is going on?” he asked. “Everything seems different.”

“There has been trouble. You know my Uncle George is no longer Chancellor.”

“Yes, but it is the earl, your father, who has changed.”

“He has much on his mind.”

“He is constantly in the company of my brother George.”

“Well, they were always good friends.”

“But I was brought up here. I feel sure that the earl wants to tell me something. I am not sure what.”

“I think he probably wants to explain his side of the question.”

“Side of what question?”

“You must have seen the king and my father have not been quite on the old terms for some time.”

“Not since Edward's marriage, you mean. Your father did not like that, I know. But it is for a man—and in particular a king—to say whom he will and will not marry.”

“Kings are in very important positions.”

“Certainly, but it is not the duty of subjects to show displeasure at their choice.”

Richard would always support his brother. He might imply that he would have preferred his brother to have married more suitably, and that he deplored the manner in which the Woodvilles were seizing power, but his brother had given them what they had and that was an end of the matter.

I realized that I could not tell Richard of my fears and I tried to assure myself that they were unfounded.

I said no more on the subject and tried to behave exactly as I had in the days of that deep friendship between the king and my father.

It was soon after that talk when guards riding at the head of a company of men-at-arms arrived at the castle.

They had come, they announced, to conduct the Dukes of Clarence and Gloucester to the king who had need of their company.

Clarence hesitated and was about to refuse to go, but on my father's advice he left with his brother.

Isabel was very upset at their departure. She shut herself in her room and when I went to her I found her weeping bitterly.

“You know what this means,” she said. “The king has heard that we are arranging to get married. Oh, Anne, he is going to try to stop us.”

“Perhaps he will agree when the dispensation comes.”

She could not be comforted. She was sure this sudden and peremptory call meant that the king had heard of the arrangements and was determined to put a stop to them.

         

It was more than a month later when Clarence came to see my father. He looked very serious and determined. My father greeted him as though he were indeed his son and then took him away to his apartments where they were in conference for a long time.

Isabel eventually learned what had happened and told me about it.

She was more cheerful now. She had been right, she said. The king did want to stop the marriage, but her gallant and faithful lover was determined to snap his fingers at his brother if need be.

“George is wonderful,” she said. “He is so much in love with me. He said twenty kings could not keep us apart. All we want is that wretched dispensation. Otherwise, of course, they would say it was no true marriage. Let me tell you what happened.”

She proceeded to do so.

“Your poor little Richard was in a fine state, because he thought his brother Edward was angry with him. George did not care if he were. But Richard was right. Edward was angry. He had them both brought before him and he wanted to know why they had arranged to leave court without his permission. Who had suggested they do it and so on. They said no one had. They had decided they would go and visit their old friend, the Earl of Warwick. Then Edward said, ‘Have either of you been contemplating marriage with one of Warwick's daughters?' And he reminded them that they could not marry without his consent. Richard was silent but George would not be bullied. He said why should he not marry the daughter of the Earl of Warwick? I was the best match in the kingdom! Edward lost his temper with George, which was rare for him, so he must feel strongly about this. He's usually all smiles and waving awkward things aside. He put both George and Richard in a room with guards at the door. Not for long, of course. He soon let them out and was jolly with them. But George said he was quite serious when he impressed on them that they could not marry without his consent.”

“What does this mean, Isabel?”

“George says it means that as soon as the dispensation arrives we shall be married, whatever the king says.”

“It could cause terrible trouble.”

“It is what our father wants.”

“Has it occurred to you that our father no longer has the power he once had?”

“Don't talk so about our father. It's disloyal.”

“It's the truth.”

She laughed at me. “I should not be afraid to marry without the king's consent, even if you would.”

“Oh, Isabel,” I said. “I hope it will not come to that.”

“I can tell you this,” she said. “We have seen the last of Richard. George says he will stand by Edward. He will do nothing of which the king does not approve. So he will not be coming to Middleham again.”

“I know.”

“How different George is! George is bold and adventurous. When George makes up his mind, no one is going to stop him, and he is determined to marry me.”

I had seen the look in George's eyes, and I feared he was determined to do many things besides marry Isabel.

ISABEL'S WEDDING

T
he shadows deepened. My mother was constantly apprehensive of what would happen next; and I shared her feelings.

Isabel was living in a world of dreams, I believed. George was often with her. They would talk, laugh, ride together, and plan for the future. I did wonder whether George was in love with her or her fortune and what my father could do for him.

It sobered me a little to remember that I, too, was a great heiress. Our father must be the richest man in the country and to whom could he leave his wealth but to his two daughters? Yet Richard did not seek me in spite of my fortune. He was above all loyal to the king.

There came an alarming day when guards arrived at the castle. There was shocked tension throughout the place when we heard they had come to conduct my father to the king. Certain charges had been made against him and he must answer them.

My father was furious. This was the greatest insult. He demanded to know what the charges were.

He was told that, when the army was storming one of the Lancastrian castles, a man had been captured and, probably under threat, had declared that my father was scheming to bring Henry back to the throne after he had deposed Edward.

At this time this was an absurd accusation, for although my father had decided to withdraw his support from Edward, he had no intention of restoring Henry, for if he did there would be Margaret of Anjou to contend with, and she would be more difficult to handle than Edward could ever be.

I realized then that at the back of his mind was an idea of replacing Edward with George, Duke of Clarence who, by that time, would be his son-in-law.

However, that plan was in its early stages and my father was incensed that he should be accused of something of which he was not guilty.

It amazes me, looking back, how easy-going Edward was and always had been. I suppose he could have arrested my father, but, in view of my father's power—particularly in the north—that could have meant the starting of a civil war; but Edward was forever placatory.

When my father refused to leave, the king sent back a messenger this time. Would the Earl of Warwick be kind enough to confront his accuser, just to show those who might be ignorant enough to believe there might be truth in the rumors, that they were utterly false?

When this request was made my father graciously acceded to it. He saw his accuser, completely confounded him, and outwardly it now seemed that he and Edward were on better terms.

This was emphasized when my father agreed to accompany the king's sister Margaret to Burgundy where she was to marry Charles who, on the death of his father, had become the Duke of Burgundy.

We heard about that ceremonious journey. The people of London cheered the procession rapturously, for my father was at the head of it and they thought this implied peace between him and the king.

I think my mother was hopeful of complete reconciliation. She understood far more than we could what a rift between our father and the king could mean; she had seen enough war in her lifetime and I knew she prayed each night that that would not come back.

Alas for her prayers!

Our father returned from the journey with plans in his mind.

I heard, from our mother, about Margaret's wedding and I knew that, though our father made a show of affability, he was far from pleased.

He was in favor of friendship with France and for him to be on terms of amity with Louis's enemy Charles of Burgundy would certainly not please the King of France; and if he decided to depose Edward, help from France would be very necessary.

We listened avidly to our mother's account of the wedding festivities, gleaned from our father, of course. How the feasting had lasted for days. But what interested us most was the account of the great fire in a castle near Bruges when the new duchess and her husband were almost burned to death in their bridal bed. It must have been caused by some enemy who was not discovered.

My mother said, “How thankful I am that your father was not involved in the fire.”

But there were other matters in which he was involved.

Clarence came to Middleham, which delighted Isabel although she was a little petulant because he spent so much time with our father. And while he was there we had another visitor: our Uncle George. Isabel was truly in a state of bliss. She was soon telling me why. She could never keep news to herself, although I believe she had been sworn to secrecy.

“Uncle George has the dispensation from Rome,” she told me. “There is now no longer any reason why we should not be married.”

“Only that you haven't the king's consent,” I reminded her.

Isabel snapped her fingers—a gesture learned from George. She looked smug. “What do we care about that?” she replied.

She was smiling secretly. I wondered what that meant.

         

We were to prepare to leave. We were going to Calais. My father, who was Captain of Calais, wanted to test the defenses there. It was a perfectly legitimate reason. Why should he not take his family with him? A man liked to have his family about him and there were so many occasions when it was necessary to leave them.

Uncle George accompanied us, which was significant.

We were excited at the prospect of going on such a journey, but all of us were dreading the sea crossing.

We came south, attracting as little attention as possible, and stayed at various castles on the way—with friends of my father, of course. He and the men always shut themselves away and talked with great seriousness.

In due course we crossed the Channel, which to our relief was less turbulent than it might have been, and we arrived—not too battered—at Calais. I had been there before, when I was very young, and what I remembered most from those days was the lighthouse, Tour de Guet, which I saw as we approached the land.

There was a welcome for us at Calais. My father, as captain of the place, was no stranger to the people, for although it was well fortified—for it was known as the Gateway to the Continent and was of the utmost importance to England—the people were a little uneasy as to what would happen to them if the French decided to invade. Sieges were some of the most distressing aspects of war, so the fact that the mighty Earl of Warwick had arrived to check the defenses reassured them.

We were lodged in the castle and the first matter to demand everyone's attention was the wedding of Isabel to the Duke of Clarence.

A thread of misgiving ran through all these preparations. Young as I was, I was aware of it. I thought a great deal about Richard during those days and memories of our friendship saddened me. I knew that the difference between the king and my father were growing more serious with the passing of every week. I would have to be on my father's side and Richard on that of Edward. So we would be enemies. Such situations do arise between friends in the event of civil war.

I tried to share in Isabel's excitement. This was her wedding and she was marrying the man she loved, which was rare for girls in our position—so it was really a matter for rejoicing in many ways. But there were sinister undertones and Isabel, in her exuberance, threw a little light on what was in my father's mind.

She chattered a great deal about her wedding dress and the entertainments that would follow the ceremony.

“As soon as it has been performed,” she said, “I shall be the Duchess of Clarence…wife of the king's brother!”

“I do hope it will be all right, Isabel,” I said.

“Of course it will be all right.”

“You had to come a long way to get married.”

She laughed. “It was a great adventure, was it not? I'll tell you something. I shall be more than the wife of the king's brother.”

“How can you be?”

She smiled at me, then pursed her lips as though she were holding in a secret.

I feigned indifference, which I knew from experience was the quickest way to get her to tell me.

“I could be Queen of England.”

“And I could be the Angel Gabriel.”

“Don't blaspheme!” she said severely, which amused me, coming from her.

I still pretended not to be particularly interested and she burst out, “It could seem that Edward is not the rightful king after all.”

“What do you mean? He is the eldest son of the Duke of York and York's claim to the throne is…”

“I know, I know. That's what people think.” She came close to me and whispered, “Some are saying that Edward is not the legitimate son of the Duke of York.”

“But his mother is…the Duchess…”

“Women do not always give birth to their husband's children.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Well, they are saying that the duke was away fighting and so the duchess had…friends. Well, one of these was Edward's father.”

I gasped in disbelief. “It cannot be,” I stammered.

“What do you mean: it cannot be! What do you know about it? It can be…and it is.”

“The Duchess of York. She…she's quite regal. They call her Proud Cis because her name is Cecily. She is our father's aunt.”

“What has that to do with it? I tell you it is so. Edward is not the duke's son. Therefore he has no claim to the throne…and George is the real king.”

“What does our father say?”

“He thinks George should be king.”

I stared at her. I simply did not believe this. It was some story George had invented in the hope of putting himself on the throne.

“How can you be sure?” I demanded.

“Proud Cis herself said so.”

“When…?”

“When Edward married the Woodville woman. She was so angry because he had demeaned himself. Then she said, ‘It does not surprise me. You are not king. You were not the son of your father.'”

“Why haven't we heard this before?”

“Because it was hushed up.”

“Then why bring it up now?”

“Well, these things come out. You cannot be sure when.”

“It's absolute nonsense. No one will believe that of the Duchess of York.”

“Of course they'll believe it. The duke was often away fighting somewhere. You don't understand these things. Older people will.”

“I do not think anyone will believe it except those who want to.”

I felt very shaken. I knew it was a conspiracy and my father was involved in it.

A few days later my Uncle George, Archbishop of York, performed the ceremony of marriage and my sister Isabel became the Duchess of Clarence.

         

My mother was growing increasingly alarmed. I wished she would talk to me. Isabel was a blissful bride; and as for Clarence, he gave himself such airs that he might have been already the king. I began to dislike him more and more. He was handsome, it was true, and had a certain ease of manner. He had charm like his brother Edward, but there was something good about Edward. He might be self-indulgent, sexually insatiable as they said, but there was an innate kindness of which I detected no trace in Clarence. Richard was entirely different from either of them. But then he was unique. There was no one like Richard.

The situation was growing dangerous. An attempt to depose a king and set another up in his place would surely mean civil war. There was already one in progress between the Houses of York and Lancaster, and although there were intermittent periods of peace, the conflict rose from time to time and was always hovering over the country. But this would be a new situation. My father was hesitating. He was too wily to plunge headlong into that which I was sure Clarence was longing for. He was obsessed by the notion of snatching his brother's crown and placing it on his own jaunty head. Did my father think that he would be able to guide Clarence? The king's marriage had shown him that he could no longer control Edward. But would Clarence prove any easier?

I tried to talk to my mother about it. I felt so much in the dark.

I said to her one day, “Does the king know that his brother has married Isabel?”