Mistress to the Crown (14 page)

‘Does the earth go round the sun? No, they’ll all be gathering out there like mother hens in half an hour.’

‘Do they have to wash you as well as robe you?’

‘Sponge me down? For pity’s sake, not
en masse
. I have one servant standing by with a towel and clean underlinen and a barber who comes on Saturdays. You were lucky to get me cleanshaven last night. Mind, for you …’ He blew me a kiss, slid out of bed and retrieved his robe from the floor. There were several scars on his back and buttocks. Not the badges of war from Towton, Barnet and Tewkesbury – he would have been clad from head to toe in armour – more like the vicious thwacks from a quintain.

He looked up to see me admiring him and grinned.

‘There’s a meeting at the Guildhall this morning. I need to squeeze more donations from your worthy Londoners for the war with France.’ The golden smile flashed. ‘Sometimes it only takes a kiss.’

‘I’m sure the aldermen will enj—’

‘I’m talking about the old wives.’ He demonstrated his beseeching face. Cheeky wretch!

I curled round to sit upon my heels and shook my head recklessly. ‘Wouldn’t the money be better spent on new caravels or finding a swifter route to the Indies?’

He took it in good humour. ‘Don’t you disparage my war, mercer’s daughter. I’ve been planning it for years.’ Then he came round to my side of the bed, sat down and wrapped a friendly hand over my ankle beneath the sheet. ‘And what investment may I make in this pretty vessel? Gowns to adorn your sails? A cargo of gems?’

‘No,’ I said softly. ‘Friendship is worth far more than any worldly treasure.’

He looked surprised. ‘Well, this divorce, then, where are you at with it?’

‘Well,’ I said, delighted that he had aired it. ‘Not very far. But thanks to Lord Hastings and his lawyer, I have finally found a proctor willing to take the case but he says I have not much hope of winning. I shall plead that Shore is impotent and that I desire to become a mother and bear children – a wife’s right. It’s thin, I know. After so many years, I can hardly plead non-consummation.’

Ned grinned like a rascal and pinched my nose. ‘Not after last night at any rate.’

I sighed. ‘Well, I probably have as much chance of winning as walking on water but at least I shall have tried.’

He nodded. ‘Audacious, I grant you that, but not impossible. For a start, you will have the lusty widow’s testimony from the other week.’

I frowned. ‘I do not understand, your gr … Ned?’

‘The cherrylips who visited your husband’s shop. Your poor Shore couldn’t manage anything although he huffed and puffed. Didn’t you know?’

‘Actually, Shore told me, but how do
you
know? Hmm, I thought omniscience was confined to God.’

‘I claim no divine powers, sweetheart. We sent her, that’s why.’

I recoiled. ‘
We
?’

‘Don’t look daggers at me, puss. When you propositioned Lord Hastings, we deemed it wise to see if your story was true.’

There is a limit to how furious you may get with a king, especially if you are wearing nothing but a cross and a gilded collar. I was not pleased. Would he and his chamberlain discuss last night’s coupling on the way to meet Mayor Basset?

‘I suppose you know how many garters I have as well,’ I said grumpily.

‘Lordy, no, waste of money finding that out although I could have sent one of my agents to chatter with your maidservant. You’ve nice teeth, Jane.’

I realised I was staring at him open mouthed. ‘What else do you know?’ I muttered, clenching my jaw.

‘Oh, that you stand by your family in trouble and that Alderman Shaa, for one, thinks the world of you. Patient Griselda where your husband is concerned, eh?’

‘I hope not. Griselda was a craven milksop. But let me understand this, your … Ned. Did Lord Hastings tell you that I asked him to lie with me?’

‘Well, yes, now don’t go sour about it with him. I was impressed when I heard. Tremendous courage.’

‘Is that why you barged in at Gerrard’s Hall?’

‘Ouch!’ He shook his wrist as though I’d smacked him. ‘Phew, I feel like I’m up before my own bench. Yes, madame magistrate, it annoyed old Will mightily and I’m sorry if it offended you. I wanted to see you for myself.’ His hazel eyes beamed. ‘And I did! But now everything’s right as it should be. I’ll make sure you get your divorce,
Mistress
Shore.’

That was a boot in the ribs of my anger. The price of freedom. Powerful friends
.

‘But how, my lord? Forgive me, but even you, though king, are not above the law of Holy Church. My proctor has warned me there is no precedent and it will cause too much uproar.’

He shook my ankle. ‘So, it’s a challenge. All we really need is for old Sixtus to toss the matter back to our holy fellows here and then we shall be home and hosed. A trio of well-chosen bishops and
voilà
.’

‘Voilà?’

‘Definitely
voilà
. Don’t worry. Art of compromise. Might have to agree with the old fellow’s nominee for the next vacant bishopric, but what’s a concession now and again. A letter shall go off this afternoon. About time my agents in Rome got off their arses. Some ring-licking around the cardinals and judicious greasing of palms, but, heigh, that’s the way of things.’

I held up my hands. ‘Please, Ned, may I say something?’

‘Madame, feel free.’ He tugged at the sheet, which I had gathered round me. ‘You really have the most beautiful breasts, you know.’

‘I desperately would like severance from Shore but for honest reasons, not because I have the good will of the king and—’

‘And you are a delight to f—’

I had leaned forward and pressed my fingers to his sinful mouth. ‘
But
because there is a case to answer,’ I persisted firmly. ‘Holy Church and …’

He slid his head free. ‘And husbands everywhere will be terrified if you succeed.’ He stroked a finger along my lower lips. ‘You are a dangerous woman, Mistress Shore. And you definitely need subduing.’

‘Do I?’

‘Hmmm, definitely and thoroughly.’

But a polite knock upon the door halted him before he could kiss me. Instead, I was swung from the bed and my gown thrust into my hands. ‘Best be out of here soon, my darling dear, unless you want all my gentlemen of the chamber stiff within their breech clouts.’

‘Well,’ I began skittishly. He silenced me with a kiss and my rebellious soul purred with delight. I might not have become the Lord Mayor of London but I had become the King of England’s mistress.

III

Being sent home in the royal barge was too extravagant for my taste; a wherry back to Puddle Wharf sufficed and I stepped ashore with my feet on the cobbles but my spirits as high as St Paul’s. I wanted to shout my happiness to the entire world but instead the passers-by saw Shore’s wife coifed and cloaked like any other housewife.

It was past breakfast as I slunk through the back gate like a mouser who had been out caterwauling all night. In the kitchen, our cook was beheading carrots, and my maid Isabel was singing as she measured out honey. The house smelled of ripe fruit. We were supposed to be making plum preserve this morning and an opportunistic wasp was already crawling upon the heaped basket that awaited my attention. The incongruity of my kitchen compared to the King’s bedchamber made me laugh aloud.

‘Oh, mistress, I am glad you are merry for he’s in a right lather.’ Isabel darted a meaningful glance at the rafters.

‘Is that you back at last, wife?’ came a furious voice from above.

Shore and I met on the stairs. He grabbed my wrist and hauled me up into the solar. ‘Ah thought you were murdered, you wretched cow. Where the Devil have you been? It’s him, isn’t it? The poxy Lord Chamberlain.’

I bit back ‘two hims’ as I drew off my gloves. Instead I said, ‘Your pardon if I worried you, Shore. No, it wasn’t Lord Hastings. I played Helen of Troy in an entertainment at Westminster Palace and then I had a late supper with the King’s grace.’

‘Enow of your bamming!’ He jabbed a ribbed fingernail at me. ‘Ha, ah have it! Ralph Josselyn the younger!’

‘Drooling Ralph?’ I scoffed, untying my cloak. ‘No, it’s King Edward.’

Looking up, I saw Shore was wearing one of his know-better expressions that imposed a selective deafness. ‘It’s-the-King, husband. I lay last night with-the-King.’

He opted for a more palatable explanation. ‘God save us!’ he exclaimed. ‘Your wits have gone asunder. I’ll send the girl for a surgeon, see if old Jack Dagville can bring some leeches.’

‘You might need the leeches when the truth sinks in.’ I rattled the necklace. ‘I am not lying. His grace the King commands you to attend him this morning at eleven after he returns from the Guildhall – by the way, aren’t you supposed to be there? Never mind. Anyway, give your name at the Palace Watergate and you’ll be taken straight in. I’d put on your violet livery if I were you.’

He crossed his fingers against me. ‘The Devil’s possessed you.’

‘I warn you, Shore, he’ll send an officer for you.’

‘Then let him! Go and lie down, Elizabeth.’

‘No, I’ve promised to help Isabel with the plums before they turn to pulp. Please get out of my way, sir. I need to change my gown.’

At eleven o’clock he still did not believe me. At noon two soldiers in lion and lilies surcotes clanged into the shop; they were not in the buying mood. I ran upstairs and watched from our jutting window as Shore left with them. His lirapipe scarfed his face but people were staring. The fool! I had not wanted it this way.

He arrived back past two, armoured with my father and mother’s company as though my mind might be changed by a good dose of paternal chastisement. They were back from the country. Oh Heaven, I had forgotten Jack’s months of negotiations for a mercer’s heiress had reached fruition and his betrothal feast was just days away.

Shore folded his arms wearing an expression that would have withered an entire harvest. ‘Tell them, Elizabeth.’

Mama flung her arms about me with motherly warmth. ‘Oh, my love, at last! I’ve prayed so hard. When is it to be?’

‘After the campaign in France,’ I said, stiff within her embrace.

‘Ah resent your attitude, Mother Lambard!’ spluttered Shore. ‘How can you—’

‘Of course, I am cock-a-hoop after all these years. And I’m much obliged to you for letting Elizabeth tell us the news firsthand.’

Shore and I looked at one another.

‘I am not with child, Mama,’ I announced.

Her grey eyes lost their sparkle. ‘But you said she had an important announcement, Son Shore.’

‘Tell them you’ve become a whore, Elizabeth. Let’s make a meal of it, eh! Her lover is sending me to Antwerp out of the way so ah’m not an embarrassment.’

‘Antwerp!’ I exclaimed. ‘When?’

‘When he gets back from France. Ah hope the plaguey French stick a bombard up his bloody arse.’

‘Antwerp?’ Father decided to join the ring at last. ‘Furs? Baltic trade? You going as well, Elizabeth?’

Shore looked like he was about to burst. ‘Lambard,’ he began with admirable control, ‘she’s abaht to become the
King’s Whore
!’

‘Well, not about to,’ I corrected.

‘
The King!
’ The air whooshed out of Mama and she subsided onto the nearest stool, palm clapped to her mouth.

Shore – who could blame him – was still finding the cuckold’s horns an unpleasant fit. ‘Your daughter has the morals of fornicatin’ she-ape, John Lambard!’

My mother rallied at the insult. ‘How dare you!’ she exclaimed, her pointed cap all a-quiver. ‘Say something, John!’

‘I don’t think he wants to,’ I muttered. Beneath my I-dare-you stare, my handsome sire looked shiftier than a cutpurse caught with a knife. Before he could resume his ‘respectable alderman’ posturing, I said swiftly: ‘I should mention in my defence, Father, that I did say “no” to the King the first time he asked me. In fact, I’ve been extremely discreet, and if Shore had bothered to believe me instead of being stubborn and superior, he wouldn’t have had the street gaping when the royal guards came for him.’

Shore flung his hands in the air. ‘What in God’s name will our guild say?’

‘Hell and damnation!’ The implications of his adulterous daughter’s decision were gathering in Father’s mind like hungry kites. A swoop on my carcass was imminent. ‘Son Shore has the right of it. The Company abhors scandal. O Jesu!’

‘A husband’s rights are protected,’ fumed Shore. ‘A king cannot be above the law. Why, ah’ll … ah’ll complain to Bishop Kemp and see what Holy Church has to say about this. If ah want to take my wife to Antwerp—’

‘Timbuktu might be safer,’ pointed out my mother witheringly; Shore’s insult had drawn blood.

‘Oh, you
are
going to Antwerp then?’ I asked Shore.

‘Ah cannot stay here in ignominy, ha’ everyone laughing up their sleeves at me.’ He stared at his hand. ‘Look at me, ah’m all of a shek. You’ve shamed me, Elizabeth. If ah’d known when ah took you to wife— God help me! Ah did not deserve this, you strumpet!’ Then he swung round on my parents. ‘She can move out this very hour. Ah wash my hands of her.’

Matters were boiling up too fast for my liking. I had not wanted our parting to be so clumsy.

‘Let’s keep a lid on this,’ I exclaimed, fixing my parents with a warning stare. ‘Scandal likes to play the cat with its victims, but only if we let it.’

‘Hmm, but if you and Shore are to live separately, it will be remarked upon.’

‘Yes, it will, Mama, but the Church does not object to separation – and nor should the Mercers’ Guild – if the marriage is to be annulled.’

‘Annulled!’ cried Shore. ‘Christ Almighty! Why do you not lead me through the streets on a donkey with the placard “CUCKOLD” about my neck!’

‘But surely an annulment would be for the best?’ I offered. He could find some neat Dutch woman. ‘You’d be free to marry again. I’d like to see you content.’

Shore sat down at last, back hunched, his head in his hands. I wanted to fill his alecup but I thought he might throw it at me.

‘Easy, Son Shore.’ Father set a hand on his shoulder with a grunt of male sympathy and then shifted in beside him. He grabbed the flagon of stingo and filled the alecups. ‘What inducement is King Edward offering, eh?’