The Kingmaker's Daughter (26 page)

‘D’you know the Palace of Westminster?’

‘’Course I do.’

‘Take this, and give it to someone in the household of the Duke of Gloucester. Tell them to give it to the duke. Can you remember that?’

‘’Course I can.’

‘And don’t give it to anyone else, and don’t say anything about it.’

I give him a twist of paper. Inside I have written:

I should like to see you, A

‘If you get it to the duke himself he will give you a second groat,’ I say and give him the coin. He takes it, nips it with his black tooth to check that it is good, and puts his
knuckle to his forehead by way of a bow.

‘Is it a love letter?’ he asks impertinently.

‘It’s a secret,’ I say. ‘You shall have a groat from him if you will keep the secret.’

Then I have to wait.

Isabel makes an effort to be kind to me. She allows me to dine in the hall with her ladies and she sits me at her right-hand side. She calls me ‘Sister’ and one day she takes me to
her wardrobe room and says that I must have my pick of her clothes. She is tired of seeing me in blue all the time.

She puts her arm around my shoulders. ‘And you shall come to court with us,’ she says. ‘When your year of mourning is finished. And this summer we can go travelling with the
court, and perhaps we can go to Warwick. It would be lovely to be home again, wouldn’t it? You would like that? We might go to Middleham, and Barnard Castle. You will like to go to our old
homes.’

I say nothing.

‘We are sisters,’ she says. ‘I don’t forget it. Anne, don’t be so hard on me, don’t be so hard on yourself. We have lost so much but we are still sisters.
Let’s be friends again. I want to live in sisterhood with you.’

I don’t know how Richard will come to me, but I trust that he will come. As the days go on I start to think what I will do if he does not come. I think I am trapped.

In the cold dark days of February I hardly leave the house at all. George goes almost every day to the Palace of Westminster or out into the city. Sometimes men come to see him who enter by a
side door and go straight to his room, as if they were meeting in secret. He maintains a great outward show as grand as a king. I wonder if he is planning to create a court to rival his
brother’s, if he hopes to amass such great lands and such a great affinity that he can set himself up as a prince in England. Isabel is always at his side, exquisitely dressed, as gracious as
a queen. She goes with him when there are feasts or parties at Westminster, or when she is bidden to dine with the queen and her ladies. But I am neither invited nor allowed to go.

One day they are ordered to a special royal dinner. Isabel dresses in a blaze of emeralds, a green gown, a green veil and a belt of gold set with green emeralds. I help her dress, lacing the
green ribbons with the gold points through the holes of her sleeves, and I know my face is sulky in her candlelit looking glass. All her ladies are buzzing with the visit to Westminster Palace;
only I am to be left at L’Erber alone.

I watch from my bedroom window as they mount their horses in the yard before the great doors. Isabel has a white horse and a new saddle of green leather with green velvet trappings. George
beside her is bareheaded, his blond hair shining in the sunlight as golden as a crown. He smiles and waves at the people who gather either side of the gate to shout their blessings. It is like a
royal progress, and Isabel amid it all is like the queen that our father promised she would be. I step back from the narrow window to the deserted rooms. A manservant comes in behind me with a
basket of wood. ‘Shall I build up the fire, Lady Anne?’

‘Leave it,’ I say over my shoulder. They are through the gate and going at a jingling trot down Elbow Lane, the winter sun bright on George’s pennants. He nods from left to
right, raising his gloved hand in response to a cheer.

‘But the fire’s going down,’ the man says. ‘I’ll put some wood on for you.’

‘Just leave it,’ I say impatiently. I turn around from the window and for the first time I see him. He has pulled off his hat and dropped the fustian cloak which was hiding his rich
jacket and beautiful linen, his riding breeches and soft leather boots. It is Richard, smiling at my surprise.

I run to him, without thinking what I am doing. I run to the first friendly face that I have seen since Christmas, and in a moment I am in his arms and he is holding me tightly and kissing my
face, my closed eyes, my smiling mouth, kissing me till I am breathless and have to pull away from him. ‘Richard! Oh, Richard!’

‘I have come to take you.’

‘Take me?’

‘Rescue you. They will keep you more and more close until they get your mother’s fortune and then they will put you in a nunnery.’

‘I knew it! He says he is my guardian, and will give me my share of the fortune when I am married; but I don’t believe him.’

‘They will never let you be married. Edward has put you in George’s keeping, they will hold you forever. You will have to run away if you want to get out of this.’

‘I’ll go,’ I say with sudden decision. ‘I’m ready to go.’

He hesitates as if he doubts me. ‘Just like that?’

‘I’m not the little girl that you knew,’ I say. ‘I’ve grown up. Margaret of Anjou taught me not to hesitate, that there would be times when I have to see the best
thing for myself and take that course without fear, without considering others. I have lost my father – there is no-one who can command me. I certainly won’t be commanded by Isabel and
George.’

‘Good,’ he says. ‘I’ll take you into sanctuary – it’s the only thing we can do.’

‘Will I be safe there?’ I go into my little bedroom, just off the presence chamber, and he follows me without embarrassment and stands in the doorway, as I open my box and take out
my jewellery case.

‘They won’t break sanctuary in London. I have a place for you at the college of St Martin’s le Grand. They will keep you safe there.’ He takes the box from my hands.
‘Anything else?’

‘My winter cloak,’ I say. ‘And I’ll wear my riding boots.’

I sit on the bed and kick off my shoes, and he kneels before me and takes the riding boots, holding one open for my bare foot. I hesitate; it is such an intimate gesture between a young woman
and a man. His smiling upward glance tells me that he understands my hesitation but is ignoring it. I point my toe and he holds the boot, I slide my foot in and he pulls the boot over my calf. He
takes the soft leather ties and fastens the boot, at my ankle, then at my calf, and then just below my knee. He looks up at me, his hand gently on my toe. I can feel the warmth of his hand through
the soft leather. I imagine my toes curling in pleasure at his touch.

‘Anne, will you marry me?’ he asks simply, as he kneels before me.

‘Marry you?’

He nods. ‘I will take you to sanctuary and then find a priest. We can marry in secret. Then I can care for you and protect you. You will be my wife and Edward will welcome you as his
sister-in-law. Edward will grant your share of your mother’s inheritance when you are in my keeping. He won’t refuse my wife.’

He holds out the other boot, not even waiting for my reply. I point my toe and slide my foot in. Again he gently ties the laces at ankle, calf and knee. There is something very sensual about his
careful tightening of the laces, working his way slowly up my leg. I close my eyes, I am longing for the sensation of his fingers brushing gently on the inside of my thigh. Then he takes the hem of
my skirt and pulls it down to my ankles, as if he will defend my modesty, as if I can trust him. He puts his hands on the bed either side of me, still kneeling before me, looking up at me, his face
filled with desire.

‘Say yes,’ he whispers. ‘Marry me.’

I hesitate. I open my eyes. ‘You will get my fortune,’ I remark. ‘When I marry you, everything I have becomes yours. Just as George has everything that belongs to
Isabel.’

‘That’s why you can trust me to win it for you,’ he says simply. ‘When your interests and mine are the same, you can be certain that I will care for you as for myself.
You will be my own. You will find that I care for my own.’

‘You will be true to me?’

‘Loyalty is my motto. When I give my word, you can trust me.’

I hesitate for a moment. ‘Oh Richard, ever since my father turned against your brother, nothing has gone right for me. Since his death I have not had one day without grief.’

He takes both of my hands in a warm grip. ‘I know. I cannot bring your father back, but I can put you back in his world: at the court, in the palaces, in line for the throne, where he
wanted you to be. I can win his lands back for you, you can be landlord to his tenants, you can fulfil his plans.’

I shake my head, smiling though there are tears in my eyes. ‘We can never do that. He had very grand plans. He promised me that I would be Queen of England.’

‘Who knows?’ he says. ‘If anything should happen to Edward and his son, and George – which God forbid – then I would be king.’

‘It’s not likely,’ I say, my father’s ambition prompting me like a whisper in my ear.

‘No,’ he says. ‘It’s not likely. But you and I of all people know that you cannot foresee the future; none of us knows what may happen. But think of what you might be
right now. I can make you a royal duchess. You can make me a wealthy man. I can make you the equal of your sister and defend you from her husband. I will be a true husband to you. And – I
think you know, don’t you? – that I love you, Anne.’

I feel as if I have been living in a loveless world for too long. The last tender face I saw was my father’s when he sailed for England. ‘You do? Truly?’

‘I do.’ He rises to his feet and pulls me up to stand beside him. My chin comes to his shoulder, we are both dainty, long-limbed, coltish: well-matched. I turn my face into his
jacket. ‘Will you marry me?’ he whispers.

‘Yes,’ I say.

My belongings go into one bundle, and he has a kitchen maid’s cloak for me with a hood that I can pull forwards to hide my face.

I protest as he puts it round me. ‘It stinks of fat!’

He laughs. ‘All the better. We are walking out of here as a manservant and a kitchen maid and nobody will look twice at either of us.’

The great gates are open, the people are coming and going as they always do, and we slip out with some dairymaids driving their cows before them. Nobody sees us go, and nobody will notice that I
have gone. The house servants will assume that I went to court with my sister and her ladies, and only when she comes home in a few days will they realise that I have escaped them. I laugh out loud
at the thought and Richard, holding my hand as we go through the busy streets, turns and smiles at me and suddenly laughs too, as if we are embarking on an adventure, as if we are children running
away and laughing as we go.

It is growing dark when we get to the college, which stands in the lee of St Paul’s Cathedral, and the side door is open to the chancel and there are many people pushing their way in and
out. There is a market inside, and stalls for people to sell all sorts of goods, money-changers and some secret business taking place in the corners. The people are hooded and shrouded against the
cold mist that is rolling off the river, and they keep their heads down and look about them.

I hesitate; it feels unsafe. Richard glances down at me.

‘I have a room prepared for you, you won’t be with the common people,’ he says reassuringly. ‘They give sanctuary to all sorts of people here: criminals, coiners, and
forgers, common thieves. But you will be safe. The college is proud of its power of sanctuary – they never give up anyone who claims the safety of the church. Even if George finds where you
are and demands that they surrender you, they won’t let him take you away. This college has a great reputation for being unhelpful.’ He smiles. ‘They would even defy my brother
the king if they had to.’

He tucks my cold hand under his arm and leads me through the door. The curfew bell starts to sound in the tower above us, as one of the monks steps forwards, recognises Richard, and without a
word leads the way to the abbey’s guest house.

I tighten my grip on Richard’s hand. ‘You’ll be safe here,’ he repeats.