Resurrection (3 page)

"It would," agreed Sir William.

"Excellent. So this eager young couple could be married at once, though naturally, Lady Margaret, given your daughter’s youth, you will wish to insist that she does not actually take up residence in her new home for several years yet."

Now it was the turn of Jane's mama to bear the pleasant if determined scrutiny of the duchess. She muttered something about Jane requiring to learn her wifely duties but the duchess waved that concern away.

"I am quite convinced Jane could learn all she needs to know here, or if wider experience is required she might spend some time with us at York. Yes, I would like that. Of course, she must bring her own servants with her, and her pony, in readiness for when she does eventually remove to Roseworth, for she will require her own attendants at that stage, too."

"Her pony?" Lady Margaret’s expression was one of utter incredulity. "Jane does not possess a pony."

"Does she not? No matter, I am sure you would be able to locate such an animal, in your extensive stables, Sir William."

Jane's father was no match for the duchess. He simply nodded and reached for his tankard of ale.

"It will be so pleasant to have Lady Jane with us, of course, but we must not be selfish. I would not wish to keep her from her husband over-long. I think she should be looking to take up her position by the time she is—should we say fourteen? Or just possibly fifteen?" The duchess cast a glance in her husband's direction.

The Duke straightened in his chair. "You were ever precipitous, my dear, but it does not do to rush these matters. I believe seventeen would be quite soon enough, do you not agree, Sir William?"

Jane's father shrugged, though he did not appear displeased with the arrangements. "What? Seventeen? Yes, yes indeed. Quite soon enough."

Jane did not dare to so much as glance in her mother's direction

Richard's duchess beamed at him. "You are right, as ever, my lord. Seventeen it shall be then, and until she reaches that age Jane should spend as much time as Lady Margaret might spare her for in our household, in preparation for her future role as mistress of Roseworth. Shall we summon a scribe to draft the necessary amendments since we all find ourselves in perfect accord?"                                                                               

Roseworth Castle, Northumberland

Ten years later, August 1485

"I apologise for keeping you, my lord, but I wondered—is there news? Of the King?" Jane sat upright in her bed, leaning against the pillows as she clutched her coverlet to her chest. Her husband, his monthly duties performed with his usual perfunctory efficiency, hopped about beside her bed, balancing on one leg as he shoved his feet back into his hose ready to depart for what Jane could only assume to be a bed he found more to his liking. Gerard rarely remained with her for more than few minutes after depositing his seed within her infertile body, and this night was no exception. He would dress, offer her a polite bow, and leave her chamber as quickly as he decently might. She rarely saw him during the day, and certainly not in a manner conducive to private conversation, so if she was to press him for news it must be now.

Recently returned from the fighting in the midlands, her husband would even now be commanding his army in defense of King Richard were it not for the injury to his shoulder which had necessitated his temporary presence at home to recuperate. The last news they had received informed them that the King's forces were to meet those of the usurping Henry Tudor close to Leicester, where the outcome should be decisive.

Jane was quite certain that Richard would prevail. He was, after all, the rightful King of England following his brother's untimely death some two years previously, and the bizarre disappearance of his nephews. Jane had no doubt the boys had been spirited abroad by their mother who distrusted Richard and was convinced he meant harm to her and her brood. It was a ridiculous notion, but one which Elizabeth Woodville, the widow of the late king, clung to with her customary tenacity. Jane knew that Richard would never harm those close to him, though the Lancastrian rebels would do all in their power to blacken his name.

She knew, too, that her husband's injury was almost completely healed and that Sir Gerard would soon re-join the King's forces. If she was to learn of the progress of Richard's cause she would need to speak to him sooner rather than later.

Gerard paused in his battle with his clothing. He glanced at the small figure hunched in the bed and spared a sympathetic smile for her.

"Ah, yes. I forget how close you are to the King. I regret, though, I have received no word as yet. As soon as there is anything to report Garrick will return, and you have my word that I will share the news with you, my lady."

Garrick, captain of her husband's personal guard, had stayed with the King's troops along with most of the Roseworth men at arms. Whilst his injury prevented his personal presence on the battlefield, much to Gerard's frustration, her husband had been insistent that his forces would remain at Richard's disposal. Jane knew it was Gerard's intention to rejoin the King's forces within the week, and it was quite possible she would not see him again for months.

"You will send regular reports, my lord? Do you promise?"

"I have said so, have I not? Do you doubt my word, Jane?"

His tone had hardened, taking on a note of impatience which had become more frequent of late. Jane sensed her husband's attitude toward her shifting from indulgent indifference to frustrated resentment, though he did nothing to overtly suggest that he was displeased with her. It was just a feeling, a suspicion she could not shake off. Gerard was a lord dissatisfied with his lady. She, Jane, was an unwanted and barren wife.

"Of course I do not, my lord. I am merely anxious, is all."

Gerard fastened his shirt then sat back down on the edge of the bed to pull on his shoes. "You concern yourself overmuch with matters of state, my lady. This latest rising will amount to nought. The Tudor bastard is an adventurer, a man with more ambition than sense. He will not succeed in overthrowing Richard."

Jane nodded and watched in silence as her husband strode across the room to the door. He paused to offer her a courteous bow, then exited. His footsteps echoed along the stone flags of the corridor outside, until there was just silence left.

Jane remained still, staring at the door for long moments after her husband departed. She had no doubt that Gerard was right about the final outcome of this strife with the bastard Henry Tudor, but still she worried—both about the state of their country as well as the state of her own marriage. Just a few months ago she might have sent word to the Queen, or even journeyed to court to speak to her. Anne's counsel was always welcome, her support and affection for Jane unshakable. As long as she enjoyed the favour of the Queen and the protection of the King, Jane's position at Roseworth was safe. However, to her immense sadness, the lady who had taken her under her wing for the last ten years had succumbed to illness less than half a year ago. Jane missed her friend and mentor with a passion she found hard to credit, but there it was.

Jane and Anne had forged a close friendship over the years since the Duchess of Gloucester interceded so effectively for her in the matter of her marriage. Events had proceeded exactly as Anne decreed. The marriage took place the morning after that fateful interview. The family and guests assembled in the great hall at Haveringham, with Sir Thomas standing as proxy for his son. The marriage solemnised and the dowry safely in his possession, the earl was glad enough to depart within the hour.

Jane never saw him again. Two years later she received word that her father-in-law had died following a fall from his horse. Her husband was now the Earl of Roseworth, and she, Jane, was a countess.

Jane had expected to be summoned to her husband's keep at once, but that did not happen. The new earl was, apparently, occupied elsewhere and preferred his young bride to remain in the safety of the Duke of Gloucester's household. Jane could only surmise that, despite the half dozen or so duty visits he had made to the north of England since their marriage, her husband could muster no more enthusiasm than she for consummating their union.

Jane did not take up residence at Roseworth until a few weeks after her seventeenth birthday. Her husband, still a virtual stranger to her even after five years of marriage, greeted her cordially enough and made her welcome, but he demonstrated little or no real interest in his bride. She spent her nights undisturbed in her solitary chamber whilst he continued to devote his attentions primarily to matters of a military nature. If he had needs of a more personal bent, he slaked those on the succession of common wenches who seemed more than happy to share his bed.

As the months passed, Jane became increasingly lonely, depending heavily on regular letters from the Duchess of Gloucester to lift her spirits. Well trained in the Duchess' service, Jane ran the Roseworth household with calm efficiency, a role she found far from challenging after the excellent tutelage she had received from the Duchess. Certainly, her husband had found no cause for complaint. The Roseworth kitchens churned out good, nourishing meals to keep their extensive household well fed, and on the occasions Sir Gerard entertained the King or others of the nobility, Jane's hospitality was legendary. Fine tapestries adorned their walls, the halls and corridors of the keep were well scrubbed, the chambers fragrant. Household staff scurried to and fro, their duties clear, their tasks performed with skill and alacrity.

Jane knew her duty, she always had.

The young countess had been living at Roseworth for a full year before her husband presented himself in her chamber. She recalled the occasion vividly, coming just days after her eighteenth birthday. They had guests at the castle. The Duke of Norfolk and several of his men at arms were passing en route to a parley in Edinburgh and had descended upon them without warning and expecting hospitality. It had been a hectic day but Jane was comfortable that she and her household had risen to the challenge. All were fed, the duke lodged in their finest spare chamber, his men accommodated in the barracks with her husband's guards. Clad in only her shift, Jane was exhausted and about to crawl into her bed when her husband entered unannounced.

"My lord? Is there a problem?" She could surmise from his stormy countenance as he glared at her across the room that all was not well.

"You attended Norfolk's bath. Against my express instructions." His normally bland tone had taken on a cold edge. Jane did not care for it.

"My lord, I but—"

"Do you seek to deny it?" He did not raise his voice, but Jane found herself in no doubt as to the depth of his displeasure even so,

"No, but I—"

Her husband strolled across the room to glance out of the window then turned his head to regard her over his shoulder. "I informed you, did I not, soon after your arrival in this keep, that I did not expect my wife to perform such services. Have my wishes in this matter slipped your mind completely, my lady?"

"Of course not, my lord, and I thank you for your consideration. But I
a
m
lady here, and the Duke is an exalted guest in our house. It is expected that I should attend to his ablutions personally. It... it is my duty and my right as Lady of Roseworth."

He turned to face her fully now, leaning back against the window sill in a posture deceptively casual. He folded his arms across his wide chest and regarded her under lowered brows. His azure eyes glittered, reminding her of icy flints. Not for the first time Jane observed him to be a most handsome man, and utterly intimidating.

Despite her trepidation Jane stood before her husband, her spine stiff and her shoulders back. Gerard might neglect her all he would, but she would not readily permit him to deprive her of her sole remaining purpose in life. She took pride in the quality of her housekeeping, and her responsibilities as lady of the hall included assisting important guests in bathing. It was not a duty she much cared for, and the knowledge that her husband would not insist upon it had been welcome enough. His rank alone was the reason she had made this exception for the Duke of Norfolk.

Her husband narrowed his eyes. Jane stepped back, her brief flash of temper dissipating. Whilst not scared of him exactly, she harboured a healthy respect for Gerard and knew him to have a temper though rarely was it directed at her. He set high store by obedience though, and it was distinctly possible that she had overstepped the mark in her defiance.

"Your right, madam? Your duty? May I remind you that your duty is to obey me. My instructions were clear and you chose to do otherwise."

Jane's heart sank. "But—"

"Norfolk is a lecher, as more than one hapless lady is able to testify. I would not have you alone with him, or with any man in such a situation. It is not safe."

"He would never behave inappropriately. Not here, not in my own home."

In truth, she had found the entire episode distasteful and Jane had no reason to doubt the accuracy of her husband's assessment of the man. Norfolk had leered at her as he undressed, sauntering around the bedchamber with his huge, thick cock bobbing before her eyes. He was clearly aroused by her presence in his chamber and insisted upon making sure she was aware of it. Given the slightest hint of encouragement, he might well have pressed his luck further as her husband clearly suspected. She had seen no point in allowing the vile nobleman to know that despite five years of marriage to a man no one would describe as other than virile, Jane was in fact a virgin. This was the first time she had found herself in close proximity to a naked male and she struggled to conceal her revulsion. Jane did what needed to be done and made her excuses as hastily as she decently could.

The duke had seemed to her to be well enough pleased at the courtesy shown him. Jane rather resented this interference now from a husband who really ought to be more appreciative of her efforts on his behalf.

"You put yourself in danger, and I will not have it, Jane. It is my responsibility to protect you, to keep you safe."

"I do not consider that I was in danger, my lord."

"I do. What is more, I see in your face that you know I am right in this. Even if Norfolk were the most perfect of gentlemen, he is still a man and you are very young. Inexperienced. God's bones, madam, you are still a virgin and men's bathing chambers are no place for you."

"If I am still a virgin, sir, whose fault is that?"

The moment the words were out Jane regretted them, wished she could gather up her reckless remarks and swallow them again whole. The accusation, the complaint, the implied slur hovered in the air between them as her husband's features hardened into a stern but incredulous mask.

"I see we have much to resolve, Jane. We shall start with the matter of your willful and dangerous flouting of my instructions." He pushed himself away from the wall and strolled past her to sit on the side of her bed. "You will come here, Jane, and lay face down across my lap. You may keep your shift on if you wish, but you will raise it above your waist."

Jane gaped at him, aghast. "I will not!"

"Jane, if I have to come and get you, it shall be a switch you feel across your bare arse, not merely my hand. Do not make this worse."

"I.. I... you cannot beat me."

"You are my wife, mine to discipline as I see fit. I will not beat you, but you have earned a thorough spanking and you shall have it, my lady. You may submit to this punishment, or not, that is your choice. It will happen anyway."

Jane shook her head, and willed herself not to cry.