The Stolen Crown: The Secret Marriage That Forever Changed the Fate of England (45 page)

That was my hope. Always I have had the power to hope—whether that be a good thing or bad, you may decide. So a few days into November, when Sir Walter came to my chamber and said he wished to speak to me about a serious matter, I hoped, even though nothing in his face encouraged it. “Richard is defeated?”

“No.”

“Harry has escaped abroad?”

“No.”

“He is still in England?”

“No. My lady, please hear me out. It is grim news for you. Your husband was taken prisoner near Wem. He was brought to Salisbury and tried for treason. The sentence was carried out on All Souls’ Day.”

I blinked. “You mean Harry is—” I could not get the word out. Sir Walter nodded. “But he loved the king!”

“He rose against him, my lady.”

“But he never meant to harm him! And what of our children?” Sir Walter blinked and I rushed on. “They love Harry; they need him! The king can’t take him away from them just like that. He can’t! There is some mistake. There has—”

My knees gave way and I sank to the ground dizzily with my hands over my face, willing myself not to be sick or to swoon. When the world finally stopped spinning, Sir Walter was gone and Cecilia was supporting me. “Let me put you to bed, my lady.”

“No!” I wrenched away. “We must get out of here. Now.”

An hour or so later, I walked into Weobley’s great hall, trailed by Cecilia and by Hal and his nurse. Sir Walter stared at my traveling clothes. “Where in the name of God are you going?”

“To sanctuary.”

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“Which one?”

“I don’t know. I will come across one, I am sure. Now let me pass. I thank you for your hospitality. I know we have imposed upon you greatly.”

Sir Walter stopped me with a hand. “You are going nowhere,” he said quietly. “I have sent word to the king that you are here and that we shall await his orders as to what you are to do next.”

“The king— You cannot—”

“I have emphasized your innocence in all of this. You have nothing to fear from him, your grace.”

“But I am not innocent. And you cannot keep me here!” I tried to push him out of my way.

Sir Walter grabbed my wrists. “My lady, even if I did not know my responsibility to the king, I would not let you leave here today. The weather’s foul, you haven’t men to escort you even if you knew where you were going, and it will be dark shortly. And there is the matter of your condition too.”

I flushed. Evidently someone attending me had been talking.

Cecilia—crying, though I could not fathom why, since I was perfectly collected—touched me on the arm. “He is right. Please. Let me take you back to your chamber.” She looked apologetically at me, then at Sir Walter.

“My lady is not at all well, my lord. She’s fevered, poor creature, can you see? I tried—”

“Yes, of course, woman. I see.” Sir Walter began to steer me in the direction from which I had came. “You’re going to get in bed and rest, your grace. My wife and daughter-in-law will tend you themselves. We’ll have no more nonsense about leaving.”

“All of you traitors! Let me pass!” I tried to yank away from Sir Walter.

Then I dropped to my knees as a gush of blood poured down my thighs and onto the rushes.

Ignoring the mess, Sir Walter scooped me up into his arms and carried me to my chamber. Poor man. I was screaming the entire way.

3 1 0 s u s a n h i g g i n b o t h a m I had nothing to complain of as to my treatment at Sir Walter’s hands after I lost Harry’s child—quite the opposite. His own physician attended me in the dangerously high fever that followed, and when I resisted with all my might my caretakers’ efforts to remove Harry’s garter from my calf, Sir Walter himself thought of the clever expedient of strapping it to my arm, where I could look at it all I liked. For the benefit of my addled self he made a point of charging everyone who came into my presence that it would be certain death if they took it from me. He had them bring Hal to my chamber door so I could hear his voice—at my worst point I was convinced he had been taken to Salisbury to die on Harry’s block—and he tried, I later heard, to have my daughters brought from Tretower as a comfort to me but was refused by the Vaughans, who said they would do nothing without an order from the king. By the time their reply arrived, I was well out of danger and entirely rational, and I was sitting up and taking a little bit of food. When two knights arrived from the king to take me into custody a couple of weeks later, I was quite restored to my usual state of health.

Sir Walter helped me down the stairs as I left my chamber at Weobley for the last time. “If you don’t feel you’re strong enough to travel yet, your grace, I can explain to the king. I am certain that he will understand.”

“No. The sooner I find out what is in store for me the better. It cannot be worse than what I am imagining.”

He grasped my hand. “There is nothing to dread, my lady. The king will be merciful, I am sure. Why, you know that he allowed Lord Hastings’s widow her jointure, and did not attaint him after his death. That was chivalrous of him.”

It would have been even more chivalrous, I thought, not to have killed Hastings in the first place. But there seemed no point in arguing, so I just shrugged.

Sir Walter, however, was wearing the expression that I knew by now meant unpleasant news. “I do not know if you are acquainted with the

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men who are to take you to the king. Sir Richard Huddleston is married to Queen Anne’s bastard sister, Margaret.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of him and her.”

“Sir Christopher Wellesbourne was one of the men who escorted the late duke from Shrewsbury to Salisbury, your grace. He has also been attempting to find your eldest son.”

“Has he asked you about his whereabouts?”

“Yes. I know nothing.”

I gave Sir Walter’s hand a grateful squeeze and went to meet my escorts.

Waiting in the great hall with them were Hal, all bundled up in warm clothes like myself, and Cecilia and Hal’s nursemaid, who by my own decision were staying behind until I learned of my status. It might have been a reprise of the day when I in my distraction had tried to flee to sanctuary, except that we were in mourning attire now and that I was no longer carrying Harry’s child. Only one thing was unchanged: I had no idea of what the future might hold for me, and I found that I did not much want to think about it.

Sir Walter released my arm. “This is the Duchess of Buckingham, sirs.”

I glared at my captors, whose own expressions made it clear that they could think of better things they could be doing than escorting a traitor’s wife and a small boy nearly two hundred miles to London. In this friendly manner, we proceeded out to the courtyard.

Waiting for me there was a litter that would have shamed my servants to be seen in. “That contraption is the crown’s now, you know,” explained Sir Christopher when I suggested that the chariot I had traveled in from Brecon, having been dragged out of the mud and taken to Weobley once the rains stopped, could be used instead. “All of your husband’s goods are forfeit.”

I looked back toward the stables, thinking of our horses, each one of which Harry and I and the children had named. “I suppose our horses are the crown’s too now?”

“Down to the saddle and harness.” He glanced at the jeweled clasp on my cloak, a gift from Harry following the birth of my son Hal. “Technically,

3 1 2 s u s a n h i g g i n b o t h a m all your frippery is the crown’s, if you get right down to it. But I suppose you might be allowed a trinket or two.”

I blinked back my tears and turned to Sir Walter. “I am sorry to have brought so much inconvenience upon you, my lord. You have been very kind to Hal and me.” I looked down at my mourning robes, made at Sir Walter’s expense while I was ill. At least they were mine, I supposed. “I am sorry I cannot repay you for having these made.”

“It is not expected, your grace.”

“At least I can spare one of these.” I stood on my tiptoes and gave Sir Walter a peck on the cheek. It was mostly his wife and my niece who had tended me in my illness, and they had been gentle and attentive, but it was Sir Walter who had sat beside me and tried to comfort me that terrible night when, my fever gone and my sense of reality fully intact, I had at last broken down and cried for Harry and our lost child, my weeping so violent that I doubled over on my bed and pounded the mattress with my fists until my knuckles bled. Sir Walter had been like a father to me on that occasion, and I would sorely miss him.

He smiled and helped me into the litter. “Why, I don’t believe I’ve ever been kissed by a duchess before. Thank you, your grace.” He turned to Sir Christopher and Sir Richard. “Take good care of my lady. I shall be up for Parliament soon, and I will be asking about her welfare. I will want to hear that she was well treated.”

As the litter began jolting along, I waved goodbye to Sir Walter and his family, then patted my calf where Harry’s garter was safely back in its place.

“Give me courage, love,” I whispered, so softly that only the dead could hear. “I shall need it where I am going.”

“Good Lord, does the boy have to piss again?”

“You cannot expect a boy of four to have the control of a grown man,”

I said as our litter lurched to a stop. It gave me some gratification that traveling with a small boy with a small bladder was proving to be a rather

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trying task for my custodians. Sir Christopher reluctantly handed me out of the litter, and I just as reluctantly accepted his assistance, then helped Hal out. “He has been very patient, I think. Go here, Hal.”

Hal lifted his black skirts with one hand and took hold of his small member with the other, then aimed toward a likely looking tree and did a fairly good job of hitting the mark. He crowed with delight and I clapped, then tried to look refined. “Almost as good as Papa can,” Hal said with satisfaction.

My lip wobbled just as I had seen my sister’s do. “Almost,” I said, rearranging Hal’s clothing. “Just keep practicing.” I began to move off toward a large bush. “I shall return presently.”

“Woman, where the devil are you going?”

“I have been quite patient myself, Sir Christopher. Trust me; I shall not prolong the experience. I have been used to the luxury of a portable close-stool.”

We stopped not only to make water, of course, but for refreshment and sleep, and it was at the inn at which we stopped for the night, where I sat picking at my food while the men talked around me as though I were invisible, that I learned that Harry’s rebellion had been completely crushed.

Thomas St. Leger, the king’s own brother-in-law, had been beheaded at Exeter, as had several others. Henry Tudor, delayed in the Channel by bad weather, had dropped anchor near Dorset a day or so after Harry’s death.

Suspicious of the effusive greetings he received from the men on shore, he had recognized them for Richard’s creatures and had pushed back out to sea. No one was certain of the whereabouts of my brothers Lionel or Richard, or my nephew Dorset, or Bishop Morton, but it was thought that they were either in sanctuary or abroad.

So all was lost, and Harry had died in vain. Richard would be stronger than ever. As Hal dozed against me, I pushed away my food uneaten and huddled over my cup of ale. In the dim light, no one saw the tears that dropped into it.

3 1 4 s u s a n h i g g i n b o t h a m That night in our chamber, I lay down with Hal until I saw that he was sound asleep. Then I drew a cloak around me and cracked the door, guarded by two of Sir Christopher and Sir Richard’s men. “Please let me see Sir Christopher.”

My escorts stared at me in horror as I was led into their chamber.

Fortunately, both were still dressed.

“I am not here to try to seduce either of you,” I said wearily. “Trust me, it is the furthest thing from my mind. Sir Christopher, you saw my husband in his last hours. All I want is to know about them—and with Hal by my side I cannot ask at any other time. Do me that one kindness, and I will ask for nothing more.”

Sir Christopher coughed. “My lady, it is a delicate—”

“My father, two of my brothers, and my nephew Richard all lost their heads as well as Harry. It is a subject I am as familiar with as anyone in England, I daresay. Do you think I will faint, or scream, if I hear about another such death? I will not, I give my word. I only want to know. It is unbearable not to. Why, no one has even told me where his body lies.”

“Very well.” Sir Christopher pointed me to the room’s stool and began his tale as Sir Richard disappeared into the confines of the room’s large bed.

From time to time as Sir Christopher spoke, I saw garments being thrown out from behind the bed curtains. “The duke sought shelter with a Ralph Bannaster, who turned him in out of fear or for the money—I don’t know which. Bannaster brought the sheriff and his men there while the duke was sleeping. He put up a fight when they took him, they say, but by the time we got him at Salisbury, he wasn’t any trouble at all. He seemed resigned to his fate, and didn’t say much of anything. Unlike some parties I can think of, we made good time traveling with him.” Sir Christopher paused so that I could reflect on my husband’s better example as a captive. “On the day after All Hallow’s Eve we brought him to the Blue Boar Inn at Salisbury.

I didn’t see him after that, but he had a quick trial and spent the rest of the time in his chamber at the inn, where they let him write his will. Very quiet he was, so his guards told us, although they say he kept begging to

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see the king. The king refused, of course—no need to see the likes of him.