Jean Plaidy (4 page)

Isabel yawned slightly. Then she said with animation, “I was wondering whether my father is trying to arrange a marriage.”

My mother looked at her sharply. “Have you been listening at doors, Isabel?” she asked, for Isabel had occasionally been discovered in such situations.

“No, no, my lady. I just wondered.”

“Well, I will tell you, but you must speak of this to no one. Your father
is
trying to arrange a marriage.” I was aware of Isabel: she was leaning forward, her hands clenched. “For the king,” my mother went on.

Isabel looked blank. What could the king's marriage have to do with France? Her eyes were already darkening with disappointment.

“Yes, the King of France is eager that his sister-in-law, Bona of Savoy, should be Queen of England, and whom should he ask to arrange this but your father?”

Poor Isabel! My mother did not notice how shocked she was and went on: “It is time the king was married. We need heirs to the throne. It is always good for kings to have their children when they are young. One never knows what is going to happen, particularly in these terrible times. Who would have thought that Henry the Fifth would have died when he did—a young man, so strong, so brave, the conqueror of France? Oh, if only he had lived! And then he left poor Henry, his only son. Sometimes I feel sorry for that poor man. Only don't tell anyone I said so. However, the point is that the king should marry. I am sure the marriage will be fruitful and everyone will be happier to know there are little heirs to the throne. So that is what your father is so eager to arrange with the French visitors.”

We went on with our needlework and Isabel was very silent.

But when we were alone, I could not resist saying, “So, you were wrong. The marriage was for the king, but not with you.”

“All this stupid war,” said Isabel. “All this looking after Edward. Our father made him king. It is time he gave some thought to his daughters.”

Poor Isabel! It was a great disappointment. She had so looked forward to being Queen of England, or at least Dauphine of France.

A few weeks after Christmas our father left home to attend the funeral of our kinswoman, the Countess of Salisbury. This was to take place in Bisham Abbey in Buckinghamshire, and all the greatest nobles of the land would be there to pay tribute to her, or perhaps it would be more correct to say to the Earl of Warwick. I was not sure whether the king would attend but I guessed that Richard would be there.

And when my father returned to Middleham, to my delight Richard came with him. His brother George, Duke of Clarence, was also a member of the party.

It was our first meeting with George who was to play such an important part in our lives.

Richard introduced him proudly and it was obvious that he had great respect for his brother. It did not match the admiration he had for Edward, but it was a deep affection. Knowing Richard, I could understand why. George bore a certain resemblance to Edward. He was tall and extremely handsome; he had that easy charm that I had recognized in his brother. He was affable to everyone, easy-going, laughing a great deal and giving the impression of enjoying life in every way.

I soon discovered though that he had a grudge against fate, which was that he had not been born the eldest son. I believe that sentiment was common enough among the sons of great men: they all wanted to be heir to the title, lands, and wealth that their father had enjoyed. And, of course, in addition to all that in this case there was the crown.

Isabel was attracted to him from the beginning and he was very attentive to her. If he resembled his brother Edward, he would be like that with all girls, of course; but I was glad, for his coming made up for the disappointment she had recently received about marriage. Isabel was longing for that state. She wanted a grand title, riches and power perhaps. That would not be surprising, considering her father's veneration for these assets, and George was the brother of the king.

Richard seemed to have grown much older during that Christmas he had spent with the king. His brother had talked to him often and Richard had learned a great deal about the state of the country, and some of this Richard passed on to me. He had an even greater desire to serve his brother. I had no doubt that the king had promised him it should not be long before he did so. He must spend just a few more months under the guidance of the king's good friend, the Earl of Warwick, and then he would be ready.

My father was determined to show the Duke of Clarence that he was very welcome at Middleham. Or perhaps he wanted to remind him of his wealth and power. I was just beginning to realize how important it was to my father that people should be made aware of this.

I believe the hospitality shown to the Duke of Clarence was no less grand than that set before the king himself; there was feasting, dancing, and great merriment every evening; and mock tournaments had been arranged to take place in the tilt yard for their pleasure. Clarence enjoyed this as he was very skilled and usually came out the victor. This may have been arranged, for my father would want to show his distinguished visitor that he was an honored guest—which would include allowing him to win. But perhaps it was rarely that this had to be maneuvered, for Clarence was very skilled, a superb horseman, and adroit with the sword—achieving all his triumphs with an effortlessness that won the admiration of the ladies, and in particular Isabel.

In fact, Clarence was remarkably like his elder brother, winning people to his side with charm, only—as Richard said—not quite as perfect. But of course, in Richard's eyes nobody could be.

Richard was obliged to join in the displays. I used to sit with my mother, Isabel, and the ladies watching, and while I did so, I would pray that he would win and not show the fatigue he must be feeling.

We talked now and then together, but not so much as we had now that his brother was there to spend a good deal of time with him.

I asked him about Christmas and learned that it had been very enjoyable and that he and the king had been together most of the time.

He told me what a moving ceremony there had been at Fotheringay whither he and the king had gone immediately after Christmas.

“Both my father and brother were murdered on December the thirtieth, three years before, and we have a ceremony to remember their deaths every thirtieth of January, just one month by calendar after the date of their deaths. It is a very solemn occasion in which the entire family joins.”

“Does that not bring it all back too bitterly?”

“It is important that we do not forget.”

“But you could not forget. I know it is always in your mind.”

He nodded gravely. “I wish you could have been there, Anne,” he went on. “We had a hearse covered in golden suns. The sun is our emblem, you know…the Sun of York. There were silver roses and banners showing Christ seated on a rainbow and others with angels in gold. It was wonderful.”

“And your mother? Does this not make her very sad?”

“It makes her very sad but she insists on being present. She is very proud of our family—especially now that Edward is king. She knows it is what our father would have wished. He did not get the crown for himself—but it came to Edward.”

He paused and I knew he was thinking, as I was, of that head on the walls of York wearing the paper crown, which had meant the temporary triumph of the House of Lancaster. A short-lived one, it was true. But now here was glorious Edward—the incomparable King of England.

There were tears in Richard's eyes and I was happy because he did not mind that I saw them. I knew he would have been ashamed and angry if anyone else had.

         

During that spring and summer Richard was often away from Middleham. The king would send for him and most joyfully he went. I was continually hoping that he would come back and was always quietly happy when he did. He would tell me of his exploits with the king; how Edward had given him his own company of followers; how good his brother was to him; how honored he was to be the brother of such a king.

Isabel told me that the king was more fond of Richard than he was of George, which was not fair to George, he being the elder. Richard, was, after all, only a boy, and small for his age—not in the least like his brothers. But Edward liked his adoration, for really Richard was quite blatant about it. As a matter of fact the king had given more honors to Richard than he had to George.

“Who told you that?” I asked.

“George, of course.”

“You seem to have become very friendly with him,” I replied.

She smiled secretively and I went on: “The king gives honors to Richard because he is so loyal.”

“George is clever and handsome and if Richard were not the king's brother no one would take any notice of him.”

“You don't know Richard.”

“You're so young,” retorted Isabel contemptuously. “
I
think George is very attractive. It is a pity he is not the eldest. Then he would be king.”

There were dreams in her eyes. I thought, she is thinking of George as a future husband.

That was an uneasy spring followed by an uneasy summer. I supposed it would always be like that until Margaret was completely defeated. There were Lancastrian risings throughout the country and my father would be away for long periods of time, and when there were arrivals at the castle my mother would be fearful of what news they might bring. With good reason. Fortunately there were more Yorkist victories than setbacks and a great deal of the credit must be given to our family.

At Hedgeley Moor my uncle John Neville, Lord Montagu, greatly outnumbered by the Lancastrians, defeated them and shortly afterward at Hexham delivered the final blow. It was a great success for the House of Neville and it was generally accepted that the Earl of Warwick was making the throne safe for Edward.

I had never seen my father so contented. He had achieved the very pinnacle of power; his dream had come true. He had made Edward king and—so he thought—he could not have chosen a better man to suit his plans. Edward was the perfect king: affable to the people, greatly loved by them: he had all the charm and grace a king should have. Moreover he was pleasure-loving, which would prevent his meddling in state affairs, which was exactly what my father wanted. The king should be amused while, in his name, the Earl of Warwick ruled the country.

It was late September. We had come to a period of comparative peace. After the defeat at Hedgeley Moor and Hexham, Margaret fled the country; the Lancastrians were in disarray.

My father returned to us contentedly. His family were receiving the honors they deserved. After his magnificent performance at Hedgeley Moor, John was given the Earldom of Northumberland. George Neville, at that time Chancellor and Bishop of Exeter, was to be made Archbishop of York. This was what my father wanted—his family in high places with himself at the head of the state to be called on should his help be needed, while Edward remained the charming representative, doing Warwick's will as though it were his own with the grace and charm of which he was capable.

It was a dream come true.

Then came the awakening.

It was a late September day. How well I remember it! We had arisen as usual and Isabel and I had spent the morning at our lessons and in the afternoon ridden out with the grooms for a short period of exercise.

We were in the solarium with our mother and some of the ladies when there were sounds of arrival from below. My mother rose from her chair and went toward the door, but before she could reach it my father strode into the solarium.

I had never seen him look as he did. He had apparently come straight from a long journey, but where were his followers? Even as the thought entered my mind I heard the sounds of their arrival below. He must have ridden on ahead of them.

My mother immediately dismissed the ladies. They left their needlework where it was and went swiftly out. She signed for us to follow them. We went to the door and Isabel caught my hand. She stood in a corner behind a screen and I stood with her.