The Traitor's Wife (94 page)

The rest of Eleanor's witnesses testified to nothing more than that Lady Despenser had married Lord Zouche on a barge, in a ceremony performed by a priest and witnessed by several bargemen as well as Eleanor's own family. Master Preston, having finished reading the testimony to his clients, was going on happily about the arguments he would be making; clearly, he at least was beginning to enjoy himself. A woman consumed by passion was not a rational creature, certainly not one who could consent to the holy sacrament of marriage. And even if Eleanor had been in her right mind, how could it be proven that she had answered “yes” to John's proposal of marriage, when John's own witness testified that several questions had been asked? And could the simple word “yes,” if it did indeed correspond to the marriage proposal, be taken as a sufficient consent to marriage? And could the squires be credible as witnesses, being dependent on Sir John for their livelihood and for their advancement? And could—

“Master Preston. What if the official simply decides to believe Sir John over me because he is a man and I a woman? Because I was Hugh le Despenser's wife and his bishop despised Hugh? He can couch his decision in any lawyer's jargon he wishes, but what if that is what he does?”

Master Preston suddenly wondered whether it was too late to enter his brother-in-law's corn business.

Soon afterward, Master Preston went to argue the case of
Grey v. Zouche
before the official at Worcester. A week after that, Eleanor, William, and John gathered at Worcester Cathedral to hear his decision.

“
In Dei nominee amen
.
Auditis et intellectis meritis cause matrimonialis
,” said the official sonorously. His face was unreadable. Master Preston had warned them that he would give no basis for his decision, but simply announce it after first going through a stream of form verbiage to get there. Eleanor closed her eyes as more Latin followed. “This court passes sentence in favor of Sir John de Grey.”

For an instant, Eleanor hoped she had misunderstood the Latin. Then she heard William gasp beside her. As if in a trance, she stood silent as Master Preston announced that he would appeal to the Pope.

What would happen now? Would William have to take all of his things off her estates? Would John be expecting to move in that very afternoon? Would all the Zouche banners have to come down from her lands? How would she say goodbye to William? And how in God's name would she explain to her youngest children? “Mama thought she was married to Lord Zouche, you see, but it appears that she was married to Sir John. So it is him you must call Papa now…”

She began to laugh. “So many details!” she explained when all eyes turned toward her. “So many damn
details
to consider!” She doubled over with laughter. Then she began to cry at the same time.

It was Gladys who came to her rescue, hustling her out of the room. “Come, my lady,” she said, “let's get you out of here.”

“Gladys, where am I?”

“An inn in Worcester, my lady. We had an apothecary give you a sleeping potion. Poor creature, you needed it.”

“Was I as distracted as I think?”

“Worse,” said Gladys dryly.

“Where is William? Where is that Grey?”

“Lord Zouche is downstairs. Sir John is not here. It is not as bad as you think, my lady. Because your proctor appealed, it was ordered that you not have to live with Sir John just now, at least until the appeal is over. Even Sir John agreed. He saw how badly you took the sentence, that it would be too sudden a change for you. But you may not have conjugal relations with Lord Zouche either, on pain of excommunication.”

“Would you send Lord Zouche to me?”

“Yes, my lady.”

She stared at the bed curtains until William came in. “William, forgive me. Please.”

“There is nothing to forgive. You are my wife and we both know it. We'll fight this. We'll keep on fighting.”

“I know in my heart that I never married Sir John. But William, I know this too. It would not have mattered to me if I had. I could not have said no to you. When you came back for me I was as happy as I have ever been in my life.”

“Me too, my love.”

He settled on the bed with her and held her for a time. Then he said, “I did give my oath not to lie with you while this order stands, and I must keep it. I couldn't do it if I were living with you; I'm having a hard time keeping it now. So I shall go to Ashby-de-la-Zouche for a while. You understand the necessity of that?”

“Yes. There is no need to displease God further.”

“Gladys said that she would bring William to visit me soon.”

William, their newly bastardized child. “I know he will like that, William.”

“Then I must leave now. We will soon be united again, Eleanor. Don't fear that, my love.”

He kissed her and hastened out the door.

From Worcester, Eleanor went to Hanley Castle. When she dismounted from her horse, she said, “I am going to the quay, Gladys. I want to be alone.”

Gladys's voice sharpened, “The quay, my lady?”

Eleanor smiled faintly. “Gladys, I promise you I am not going to drown myself. I have committed enough sins without adding that to the list. I will be back before long.”

Reluctantly, Gladys left her, and Eleanor walked slowly to the barge on which William had married her. She sat down in the cabin, in the same spot where the waves had rocked her to sleep as she lay snuggled next to William, and cried until she could cry no more. Then, exhausted, she slept.

“Mother? Mother?”

She opened her eyes and stared around her. “Hugh!”

Hugh's release had been conditioned on his appearing before the king's council at the October Parliament. Twelve mainprisors had been required to guarantee his appearance. (“Twelve! Shows what a desperate character I am,” Hugh had told his admiring brothers.) Accordingly, Hugh accompanied William to Parliament and appeared before the king at the appointed day.

The king stared at Hugh after having ordered him to rise. It had been years, Hugh realized, since they'd seen each other, not since Edward, a reedy youth, had departed England for France to do homage to the French king. The first royal words were not encouraging. “Good Lord, man! You are the image of your father.”

This was rather a handicap, Hugh thought as he glanced at the members of the council, most of them older men who had disliked his father and grandfather, all of them studying his features now and murmuring in assent. “That would explain the looks I got from your grace's men as I made my way here,” he said cheerfully. “Half looked as if they'd seen a ghost and the other half looked as if they'd like to make me one.”

The king's mouth twitched upward but did not remain there. “Our cousin Eleanor has been begging us for some time to set you free. We wish to gratify her, if we can assure ourselves that you will be trustworthy. How far were you involved in your father's wrongdoing?”

“Very little, that I know of. My father did not confide in me, your grace. I suspect he probably wanted to keep me clean of his own sin. I knew he was disliked, of course, and I don't suppose I ever considered him overscrupulous. It wasn't a subject I cared to analyze deeply, and when I had nothing but time to analyze it deeply, it was too late. My father was dead and I was a prisoner, so it seemed like a pointless exercise, not to mention a depressing one.”

“What have you been doing with yourself since your release?”

Trying to acquire Gower
, Hugh resisted the temptation to say. “I have been staying with my mother.”

“As a chaperone?” the king's chancellor said snidely. He was John Stratford, Bishop of Winchester. It was he, Hugh recalled, who had carried the queen's orders putting his mother in the Tower.

“As the heir to her lands, my lord, it is natural that I should help her with them. And as she has been subject to unkind remarks of the sort heard just now, she prefers my company or that of my younger brother when she goes out in public, and I daresay my being with her has been a comfort to her during this trying time for her.”

“Yes, I suppose it would be,” said Stratford, a little abashed.

“Your grace, I am well aware that my father's and my grandfather's lands were forfeit to the crown. I am not asking for them or for anything else. I am not asking for my grandfather's earldom, or even for a knighthood. I am not asking you for anything, except to be free of all charges against me. It is my wish to be of service to you someday, so that I may earn your trust and perhaps make my family's name less of a hated one. I cannot do any of those things if I am locked up somewhere or confined to my mother's lands.”

“We are satisfied with what you have told us, although we may have questions later,” the king said. “You shall appear before Parliament tomorrow with your mainprisors, and we shall render our decision.”

Hugh bowed and backed out of the room. Edward looked at his councilors and sighed. “While we are on the subject of the Despenser family, let us see my troublesome cousin's husband. Bring in Lord Zouche.”