Mistress to the Crown (17 page)

I glanced sideways at my lover’s grinning face and tried for dignity. ‘My sovereign lord, I pray you, some dry clothes and a comb,
please
.’

‘Oh, allow me.’ The duke picked up a freshly laundered shirt from the pile of laid out clothes and brought it across to me. He probably did it to shame Ned, but I took it graciously and withdrew.

I hoped to hear the ring of a hand bell to summon a servant to find me some apparel but, of course, Ned, had more important matters on his mind. Their quarrel resumed.

‘I’ve already drawn up papers appointing the Prince of Wales nominal Keeper of the Realm in my absence. Canterbury will head the royal council, and you, George, are coming with me to France and there’s an end to it.’

‘And Louis will conclude you do not trust me out of your sight, won’t he, Ned?’

‘Ah, I forget how
well acquainted
you two are.’ Gall soured every word.

I could understand Ned’s bitterness. Everyone knew King Louis had brokered the duke’s brief, treacherous alliance with the House of Lancaster. Then I heard Ned add, ‘But no matter. You and I and Richard shall just have to put on an unparalleled display of fraternal amity, won’t we, brother?’

‘Brother’ made no reply. Instead, the inner door was flung open, startling me.

‘Mistress,’ his brother purred, ‘we need a judge and jury. Do you consider it sensible for England to have a five-year-old regent while my brother struts it in France?’ Common sense bade me hold my tongue. The duke mockingly applauded me. ‘So silent now and so garrulous before. Fur between the ears like the rest.’

‘Oh, I can answer you, your grace,’ I retorted. ‘Firstly, I do not think we should be going to war with France at the present time and, secondly, if I may speak frankly, your highness?’ Ned gestured his permission. ‘Your lady mother could best stand as
regent since she managed to beget so clever a family. Now would you mind giving me some privacy, my lord of Clarence?’

That raised two pairs of eyebrows. As the duke closed the door, I heard him say, ‘Tsh, tsk, you’ve been a naughty boy. Darling Elizabeth won’t like this one.’

I huddled in the bedclothes, disgusted with my impetuous tongue. To have criticised the King’s enterprise in front of his sneering brother. Was there ever such a want-wit?

I hid my despair as I returned to Silver Street in borrowed clothes.

Mama waylaid me on the stairs, all purpose and decision-making. There had been a time when I had shunned her, blamed her for not talking my father out of betrothing me to William Shore, but that was long past. We were friends once more and she had been my greatest advocate in persuading Shore to let me employ the silkwomen.

‘Elizabeth, my love.’ She drew me swiftly into the solar. ‘Your father wishes to leave for Hertfordshire, but I’ve told him I’ll not go until you are settled at Westminster.’

‘
Mama
, that won’t be until the King returns from France.’ If ever.

‘As long as it needs, my darling,’ she said pointedly.

‘I am very grateful.’

‘Now, harken, I’ve had a talk with the servants this morning. From today, they are not to allow any strangers into the kitchen.’

‘Your pardon?’

‘The Queen.’ Her voice dropped to a fierce whisper. ‘I wouldn’t trust the Woodvilles an inch. Do you not remember how they ruined poor Tom Cooke, one of our best merchants? If her highness takes a hatred of you, as well she might, you could find poison in your pottage.’

‘Mama, I think you should know th—’

‘And another thing, Elizabeth,’ she exclaimed, still prowling before the hearth, ‘you will have to think up … amusements.’

‘Mama!’

She blushed. ‘But I also mean it in a wider sense. Make him laugh.’ Then she added with a sigh, ‘Look, Lizbeth, I cannot say I am happy with this … well … people treating us like lepers. But since the die are already cast, I want to see you succeed.’ She sat down upon the window seat. ‘There, I’ve had my say.’

I did not have the heart to tell her that I had already failed. I knelt, lifted her hands from her lap and kissed her knuckles. ‘I know it’s hard for you, Mama, but … have faith. I intend to do much good, I promise.’

I had my agenda if the King proved true to his word. My father and Shore had often been asked to oversee welfare to guild families where the father had died, but there were plenty of starving wives and widows outside the guilds. God willing, maybe I could arrange apprenticeships for some of their children by providing the means myself or persuading others to do so. Yes, it might take time. And if the London citizens continued to shun me, I should do my charity through an agent.

‘My greatest dream,’ I told Mama, ‘is to fund a lawyer to give free advice to wronged people, especially poor women, about how to obtain justice, which bench to approach, whom to seek out, whom to avoid, that kind of thing.’

‘Yes,’ she murmured, ‘I remember you wanted to be the first woman mayor of London and change the world, but, honestly, darling, don’t run before you can walk.’

‘I’ll manage it … if he’ll let me,’ Then, sighing, I sat down beside her and leaned my elbows upon my knees. ‘But it’s so easy to say the wrong thing. I’m like a child stumbling through a perilous wood in darkness. This affair may be all over in an instant.’
And it probably is already, Mama
, I added silently.

She took a deep breath. ‘Then you were a fool to tell Shore so soon.’

‘Perhaps.’ I rubbed my fingers across my eyes in weariness. ‘But God willing, at least I’ll be free before long.’
Except how, without the King or Hastings?

‘Free, Lizbeth? Oh, you mean this severance from Shore. Do you really want that? You’ll have no crutch to lean on if … well, you know what I mean, darling. If aught should happen to your father, you’ll not be able to rely on Jack to help you, not anymore. Make provision for mischance, my love. Think of Pharaoh’s dream and stack the granaries while the harvest is good.’ Her hand came down on mine. ‘Forgive me, here I am mouthing like a cursed Cassandra when it is all so wonderful for you.’

‘But you are right, Mama.’

‘I just don’t want you to have stars in your eyes about this.’

‘No, it’s the sunne-in-splendour dazzles me.’

She put an arm about me. ‘Don’t let him. He can never put you first, Elizabeth. His queen, his children, his noble friends, his hounds, the war against France, all have precedence over you. You will sip the dregs from his cup, the crumbs from his table and one day he will not even notice you are still there.’

‘I know.’ I rose to my feet. ‘But it was my choice this time.’

Mama shook her head. ‘No, Elizabeth, you’re wrong. It was his.’

At noon I threw a gambler’s dice. I sent Ned an invite to supper, bidding him meet me at Queenhithe Wharf in his humblest clothes. Risky? Presumptuous? How else could a newcomer like me seize back the reins and harness both his lust and intellect?

Mind you, my heart was in my mouth as I set out for the wharf. But, yes, there was Ned leaning against the wall alongside the wherry landing in the merchant garb he had worn to Gerrard’s
Hall. He had brought his two eldest daughters as I’d requested. The princesses, shadowed by Bryan Myddelton and two hefty esquires, were happily counting the oyster and mussel boats.

Royal folded arms and the surly concave of my lover’s cheeks boded ill, but I had surprise on my side as I whoaed in my father’s wagon.

‘Jesu!’ he exclaimed as he strode across with the girls racing after him in glee.

‘We are going for cherry pies at the
King David
,’ I said defiantly.

He muttered something that sounded like ‘Kiss my arse!’ but Princess Bess was bouncing about us so he stowed his bad temper and hoisted her into the back. His other girl had inherited her mother’s disdain. She already had her nose at an angle.

‘I cannot ride in that,’ she proclaimed. ‘I’ve read
The Knight of the Cart
. It’s is dishonourable for knights to ride in carts.’

‘For knights, Mary, but not for kings,’ her papa growled, shoved her aboard, and clambered up beside me. ‘I will drive,’ he insisted, holding his hand out for the reins.

‘Are you sure you know how, Ned?’

‘What about us?’ wailed Master Myddelton.

Our sovereign lord shrugged and flicked the horse’s back. I bit my lips not to laugh as his servants had to run and scramble aboard.

Being a man, the King of England was anxious to show off his skill and speed the cart, but Solomon the carthorse shook his mane and plodded up the hill at a pace that gave the princesses time to stare – when they weren’t poking or tickling each other.

The cookshop in Thames Street was crammed as tight as a night thief’s kerchief, but we squeezed onto a bench. Ned and I sat opposite one another. The girls scrambled in beside me like a pair of stepdaughters. My heart sang at this simple happiness, despite the surly looks from our escorts as they settled in at the neighbouring board.

The aroma of hot pies battled with the familiar smells of spilt ale, miry soles, sweat-slicked armpits and scents bought for a groat in Cheapside.

‘How very domestic,’ muttered my liege lord, mopping his brow already, unconvinced the adventure was to his taste. I knew he had imagined testing bed ropes. But he also loved good food.

‘
King David’s
,’ I promised, ‘makes pies to die for.’

‘Papa,’ giggled Bess, putting on a street dialect, ‘can we ‘ave cream an’ all?’

He ignored her, fixing his stare my way. ‘I thought …’ Beneath the board, he nudged the beak of his shoe up my skirt.

‘Later,’ I mouthed.

Princess Mary gave a shriek of delight as the platters arrived. Bess pinched her to be quiet and they began to squabble, kicking each other.

A man seated two down from Ned leaned back and reached along to tap his shoulder. ‘Your pardon, good sir, but could you tell your family to be quieter, please you? We are trying to converse.’

Ned drew an indignant breath but I sent him a warning glance.

‘Behave!’ he hissed to his girls. ‘Would you have us thrown out of here like beggars?’

‘Can they do that?’ Princess Bess asked me.

‘Yes, they can,’ I answered. ‘If we are unruly, it is their right to make us leave, and if we resist, they can send for the city sergeants and we shall be arrested.’

‘That could be amusing,’ Mary imitated her mother’s voice.

‘No, demoiselle, it will shame me,’ growled Ned, ‘and I’ll tan your little hide so hard, you won’t sit down for a week.’

It was then my misfortune to be recognised.

‘Ah thought it wuz ya!’ A fierce hand grabbed my shoulder and I froze. Shore’s Derbyshire brother-in-law, John Agard. Damnation!

‘Oh,’ I said coolly, and turned to look up at him. ‘Are you down from Foston, then?’

‘Well, ah’m not there, am ah!’ Seething hatred glared in his eyes.

My breath froze. How in God’s name could I silence him, spare the King and his children the appalling scandal that could come of this?

‘God save me, if we weren’t ‘ere in t’common place, ah’d give ye the back of mi ‘and for the ‘arm ye ‘ave done m’ Brother Shore. In fact, I will. Haaarken, everyone! This woman is a stroompet and she should not be allowed in respectable establishment like this wi’ decent folk. Ah demand that ye ask her to leave these premises this instant!’

‘Ain’t she the brazen shrew what wants to divorce ‘er ‘usband?’ said someone.

‘Get you out of here, you shameless slut!’ hissed a wide-girthed slopseller I recognised from Cheapside.

The royal servants tensed to defend us but I did not want a brawl. Determined to preserve Ned’s anonymity, I stood and turned to face my nemesis.

‘John, I—’

‘Would you like to strike me as well, sirrah?’ Ned cut in, rising to his magnificent altitude on the other side of the board.

Agard’s Adam’s apple bobbed but he held his ground like a stubborn mastiff. ‘Ah can only assume ye are ignorant of her true nature, sir.’ A clever parry. Then he added in a lower voice, ‘Ah pray ye be advised and keep out of this ‘ere quarrel.’

‘What is a
stroompet
?’ Princess Mary boomed out in the awkward hush.

Ned put a finger to his lips to hush her, and then he strode round the table. Benches scraped back with urgency.

‘No fisticuffs in here!’ yelled the mistress of the shop, waddling up. ‘Settle your quarrel in the yard!’

‘No fisticuffs,’ promised Ned, kissing his hand to her. ‘A word with you, sir, on the quiet.’

‘Say it to me ‘ere! Ah’ve nothing to hide from these good people.’

‘I think you will regret this, John,’ I warned, but he slapped my hand from his arm.

‘Then, know, whoever you are, sir,’ declared my lover, shaking his head like a disappointed parent, ‘that you are breaking the King’s peace.’

It was Princess Mary who forestalled Agard’s rebuttal. ‘Yes, you are,’ she said proudly, resisting my attempt to hush her, ‘because my papa is—’ The slap on the back from Bess nearly knocked the child’s nose into her pastry.

‘Outside,’ murmured Ned. ‘
Now
!’ He forced Agard to back towards the door. Half the inn scrambled off their backsides to follow.

A moment later, he was back, flexing the fingers of his right hand. His audience returned and, last of all, his gentlemen. I had seen expressions like Ned’s on the leaders of dog packs.

‘As you were.’ He flourished his palms at the enthralled company. ‘Hostess, could we order four more helpings, please?’

‘Of course, sir.’ She bobbed an awkward obeisance, rubbed her sweating palms upon her skirts and disappeared in haste.

‘Hmmm,’ Ned murmured wickedly, squeezing in next to me. At the end of our bench, someone almost fell off but there were no complaints. ‘A pity we couldn’t have a decent brawl but the fellow was too puny. Myddleton dealt with him. He’ll have a sore head but no broken ribs.’

‘Did anyone gues—’

‘No, thank the Lord.
Mary
!’ He put his finger to his lips.

‘Heigh, good health to you, master!’ yelled a bold wight further down the board with a broad wink. ‘We don’t want no
ill-tempered turnip from up north spoilin’ things, do we?’ and then the entire table were raising their jacks.