Royal Mistress (41 page)

“I can indeed relate any information you might wish to know, your grace,” Catesby began. “I have an uncanny knack for remembering even the most insignificant details, down to the color of gown a councilor was wearing.” Seeing Richard’s wry smile, he made bold to add, “But I usually reserve those sartorial tidbits for the ladies.” He was rewarded with a hint of a chortle, and his confidence rose, though he could not tell whether Richard was really amused.

Soon Richard learned all he needed to know to reinforce the
truth of Will’s and Harry’s messages, and he invited Catesby to ride with him to Sheriff Hutton castle, where he was lodged for the city of York’s own obsequies for Edward. He then sent word back to Will, promising to arrive in the south at the end of April with only a modest number of men. He had no intention of frightening his young nephew with a show of force. He wanted the boy to know his uncle had come to protect him and the Crown, and that he had sworn an oath to do so in front of the good people of York and written the same to the queen and the council. He wondered if the boy had been told his uncle would be protector, and assumed Rivers might choose to withhold that vital piece of information. What were those Woodvilles planning? he wondered again, especially after he was not informed at Edward’s death that he was supposed to be named protector. He must think and act carefully.

“I shall have need of someone with your legal mind in my protectorate, Master Catesby. Attend me when I am settled at Westminster,” he said, ending the audience.

Later, Catesby rode from the well-appointed castle and congratulated himself on his good fortune. Perhaps he would no longer have to take orders from Lord Hastings, he told himself, by whom the younger man had always felt overshadowed.

“I
t was magnificent, my dear,” Hastings said from his pillowed position on Jane’s settle, her little dog curled in the crook of his arm. “Edward would have approved. We kept vigil at St. George’s all night, and on that last morning Bishops York, Lincoln, and Durham said prayers for his soul. I was one of those who placed his shield, helmet, and sword in the tomb, and then my offering of cloth of gold.” His face clouded for a moment as he remembered Edward’s leaden coffin being lowered into the vault. “Many there wept when we, the officers of the household, made the final gesture to mark the passing of the old reign by the casting of our staves upon the coffin. ’Tis a sound I shall not soon forget, the echo of
it so startling in the quiet of that beautiful chapel Edward had so lovingly created.”

Jane listened enthralled, imagining then the heralds throwing in their coats of arms after the staves, donning new ones, and crying, “Long live the king!” She swallowed the lump in her throat and stared at the Galatea tapestry, still not believing she would never see Edward again.

Sensing they were slipping into moroseness, she rose and fetched more wine. “What now, my lord?” she asked. “Do we simply wait for Richard of Gloucester and then crown young Edward?”

Hastings eased himself into a sitting position as he took the delicate glass from her. “I have written to Gloucester urging him to come at once. If Edward is crowned before Richard gets here, which is what the Woodvilles appear to be planning, then I fear he and I will be in danger.”

“Danger, my lord?” she echoed fearfully. “What kind of danger? I do not understand? Why would they crown the boy without Gloucester? Did Edward not name him protector?”

“It will come down to a battle for power over who governs as regent,” Will explained. “ ’Tis my belief the queen and her adherents will stop at nothing to retain power as blood relations of the young king. Many on the council are wavering in their loyalties. Do they support the queen if she is able to secure the power and thus keep their positions, or if Gloucester’s protectorate is upheld by the rest of us, will those councilors follow us or be ousted? I believe Gloucester will never allow Elizabeth to share the regency. He views her as an upstart with no royal blood, and she knows it.” Will shifted his weight. “The truth of the matter is that Gloucester is less well known here in the south, and he could be in mortal danger if Elizabeth decides to take possession of the king and oust his uncle. She cannot afford to let him live to fight back.” He patted the seat beside him. “I will support Richard if it should come to a fight, and thus I must tread warily now. If Gloucester goes, so do I. Do you understand?”

Jane shivered, and Will pulled her closer; her nearness and his desire to protect her were almost overwhelming.

“What will become of me?” she asked with trepidation. “I know I must look to the future, even though it frightens me. I have even thought of reverting to my former trade as a silkwoman”—she looked up at him hesitatingly—“or asking you for a loan to set up a business. I am a freewoman of the city and have rights, and I all but ran my husband’s shop, you remember.”

Will thought quietly for a few moments before turning to her and taking her hands.

“It happens that your concern matches mine, my dear, and now is a good time to discuss it. Has it occurred to you that you are free to be with me now, Jane, and that I could extend to you my full protection?” Before Jane could shake her head at this extraordinary generosity, Will took her face between his hands and kissed her gently. “You must know I have loved you since the first time I saw you, and that love still burns within me. Dare I hope you could love me a little, Jane?”

“Oh, my good lord, you honor me,” Jane stammered, dazed. She pulled his hands to her lap and studied them while she thought. She ought not to lie, she told herself; it was not so much of a shock, although she prayed she had done nothing to encourage him once she had become Edward’s concubine. She thought quickly; his offer would be the solution to the problem that had tormented her night after night since Edward’s death. Hastings was wealthy enough to keep her in the house she had come to love, and although her heart was given elsewhere, Tom Grey had not attempted to even see her since Edward’s death, she had to admit with chagrin.

She looked up at Will’s anxious face, a face she had grown to love as a true friend’s or even, she had admitted to herself once, the loving father she had never known. But he was offering her more than friendship, she knew. He wanted her in his bed, and it
was not something she had even contemplated in her musings. She had thought his initial physical attraction to her had waned long ago and that he was comfortable with their friendship.

“I pray you, my lord, allow me more time for grieving. I would hold Edward’s memory close for a little while longer. Besides, you must look to yourself in the next days and keep yourself safe. It will allow me a little more time to mourn and to think, my dear friend.”

Will sighed. “Friend. That is the only way you think of me, is it not? I had hoped after all these years, I might have found a different place in a corner of your heart.” He patted her knee and rose. “Certes, you may have a few days, Jane. If you say yes, I promise I will make you happy, if only because you will make me the happiest of men.”

He flung his mantle about his shoulders and pulled the cord through the jeweled tasseau. With some urgency, he told her, “I will not force you, but I would have you think carefully about your future. I can protect you. The queen will want you gone from court, and Gloucester will turn you out of Edward’s house as soon as look at you. His loyalty to Edward does not extend to you. God’s bones, but he is such a sanctimonious bore!” Will’s pun on Gloucester’s White Boar badge was not lost on Jane, her mind delighting in such wordplay, but she put a more serious finger to her lips.

“Caution, Will, you know not who may be listening.”

But Will had not finished. “In case you were worried about my wife—Katherine and I have not shared a bed these two years, and she cares not what I do now. Think favorably on my proposal, Jane, I beg of you.”

Jane allowed Will to fold her in an embrace, but she could not bring herself to let him kiss her again and turned her face so his lips found her cheek. She begged his pardon: “ ’Tis too soon. I will give you an answer anon, I promise.”

She heard the front door shut behind him and sought the sanctuary of the settle, her knees weak and unsteady. How could
he still be in love with her after all these years? Strange, Will had never given her an inkling he still lusted for her. That he felt affection and friendship for her, she well knew; it matched her own feelings for him, but to take her to his bed and expect her to accept him now as a lover after she had loved the king, she could not understand. How could she have been so blind all these years to his true feelings?

Far more important, however, was that without him she might be in danger of being evicted from Thames Street and end up in a brothel—or worse, in that wretched Ludgate gaol. Will’s offer looked rosier by the minute, although she fretted that her motive was self-serving. She had to admit, however guilty it made her feel, that she was disappointed, for God only knew he was not the new protector that she yearned for. Where was Tom? Why had he not come to console her or even contact her? If he still loved her, he would have to have given her a thought now. But Jane refused to listen to the imp inside her. “Selfish coward,” it said, but Jane believed Tom must have a good reason.

E
vents at the end of April overshadowed Will’s resolve to have Jane for his own. The next time he visited her, he was bursting with news and optimism.

“Elizabeth—the queen—has gone into sanctuary along with her children, including the whey-faced Dorset,” Will told Jane, taking long strides about the room in his eagerness to tell his tale. “It seems Gloucester heeded my warning and has taken control of the king’s person.”

“My lord, you are making no sense. Why would the queen need sanctuary? Why do you not sit down and calmly tell me what has happened. You forget I am merely a forgotten mistress of the former king; no one brings me information anymore.”

Will calmed himself and took up his customary seat with Jane’s dog upon the settle, unlacing his tight, padded jacket and
exhaling with relief. “How I detest this new fashion and long for my loose gown,” he admitted. He grinned at Jane as he removed his bonnet and gave his scalp a scratch. “Much better. So, let me see, where shall I start?”

“The queen is in sanctuary,” Jane helped him.

“Ah. My lord of Gloucester is a canny one, I will give him that,” he began again. “After seeing that the city officers swore fealty to young Edward, he left York and proceeded south as far as Nottingham. In the meantime, Rivers with the king came south from Ludlow and agreed to meet with Gloucester at Northampton. When Gloucester arrived, Rivers had gone on to Stony Stratford farther south. This seemed in direct defiance of the protector’s orders, and one can understand Gloucester’s consternation. What were the Woodvilles planning? And how large was their force? The king was now more than a dozen miles closer to London and his Woodville kin, and Gloucester feared for his own safety.

“It would seem Henry of Buckingham has been in communication with his cousin Gloucester since Edward’s death,” Will continued. Jane looked blankly at him. “Henry Stafford, duke of Buckingham, is the only cousin of royal blood left to Richard.” He chuckled. “Ned never had much time for Harry. He thought him a buffoon—a popinjay without a brain. Perhaps the duke hopes to ingratiate himself with Richard by lending his support, I know not.

“But I digress. Where was I? Ah yes, at Northampton. While the two royal cousins contemplated hurrying after Rivers, Rivers himself doubled back into Northampton. Perhaps he felt guilty for not waiting for Richard as planned. He left the king at Stony Stratford with Richard Grey and the others.”

Tom’s brother, Jane thought with a jolt. She nodded politely, only mildly interested in this story so far. Will, on the other hand, consumed with the tale, ran on. “Apologizing with the feeble excuse of ‘no room at the inn’ for both retinues in Northampton, Rivers explained how they had moved on. ‘But here I am, my lord
protector, and there is no plot afoot to race you to London,’ he boldly stated, or some such falsehood. Then it seems Gloucester and Buckingham entertained the self-satisfied earl in style that evening, but on the morrow arrested him on suspicion of treason.”