White Boar and the Red Dragon, The (23 page)

‘Well, my Lord Richard, I do admire your taste! But I deplore how you provide for your sweet mistress—or rather, do not!’

William Hastings, Lord Chancellor to the king, laughed uproariously, slapping Richard on the back in his hearty fashion. ‘A Southwark tavern? Can you do no better for her? I know you are frequently strapped for cash and bewail the fact that you are not often solvent without your dear brother Edward’s help, but surely you have enough ready money to set her up in a decent lodging? I assume you must visit her there?’

Richard turned, puzzled, towards the speaker.

‘What do you mean? I have no idea what you are talking about!’

‘Why, the succulent Kate, of course! You are most fortunate—especially as she keeps her favours solely for you, it seems!’

‘I am at a loss, Lord Hastings, to understand to whom you refer. I know no woman in Southwark!’

‘Well, she certainly knows you, Dickon! Didn’t seem to think you would be too pleased if she pleasured others too!’

‘Pleasured? Who?’

‘Why, my lord, the Marquess of Dorset and his brother—the queen’s sons. Said you would be quite put out if she gave in to their demands!’ He laughed again.

William Hastings rubbed the side of his nose with one finger, exchanging a glance of amusement with the king, who was rocking with laughter as they teased Richard. ‘Or maybe you just don’t want to admit you’ve discovered girls at last!’

‘Come on, Dickon! Tell all!’ Edward urged, getting up and putting his arm round his favourite younger brother. ‘I must say, for a while, we thought you would never make a start! No interest at all! But maybe you’ve just been a dark horse—as William here suggests! And better late than never!’

‘I swear I am hiding nothing! I do not have any woman in Southwark!’

‘Well, she did say you met in Northampton…’ Hastings began.

Richard shook himself free of the king’s arm and turned away thoughtfully. ‘Kate? His Kate—in Southwark? So near?’ He had received a letter from her, sent from Northampton—in November—but nothing since. Had she come to London then? But why? And without telling him?

Edward’s mood suddenly changed as he became contrite at the look on Richard’s face.

‘Sorry for teasing you, Dickon. But you must admit you’ve never shown much interest in women up to now! But I can see you are serious about this one. The Marquess here tells me she is very beautiful.’

‘That is not her only attribute,’ said Richard quietly. ‘She is good and virtuous—’

‘Not so virtuous as to reject your advances, lad!’ grinned Hastings. ‘There’s the baby to show for it!’

Richard swung round to face Hastings. ‘Baby?’

‘Yes, if she’s telling the truth and you are her one and only love—then it must be yours!’

‘I know nothing about any baby! She wrote to me in November and I only got the letter recently when we returned from exile in Brugge, but there was no mention of her having had a child!’

‘So you didn’t even know you have a son then?’ Edward said. ‘Apparently, the innkeeper told Richard Grey and the Marquess of Dorset that the baby was a boy! A bastard certainly, but every man needs sons—bastards or not!’

Richard made up his mind then and there. He must go and seek out Kate—at once. He could not leave her in such a place!

‘It is true, Sire, that I love her—and she me, but we have not seen each other for so long that I had no idea she was in London even—and as for the baby! I intend to go immediately to this Southwark inn and find her—rescue her from such a place. It is not to be borne! What has happened to her that she left her father’s manor and works as a drudge there?’

‘Perhaps her family disowned her when they found out about the baby—and who the father was?’ said Hastings.

‘It is possible, I suppose—I believe her father is of the Lancastrian persuasion.’

‘Did you know that when you took up with her?’ enquired the king. ‘Hardly a suitable paramour! And all these lovely court ladies at your disposal on our side! And I thought you had a penchant for Anne Neville? Though that is surely out of the question now that her father has turned against us?’

‘I am not interested in the court women, Edward—you know that. They are shallow, vain, and conceited—also avaricious in the extreme. I could never go with one, let alone love her! As for Anne—that was just a childhood friendship—we were thrown together so much at Middleham…’

‘Then this Kate must be a rare mortal to come up to your high moral standards, lad,’ Edward said, teasing again. ‘I should like to meet her one day.’

‘Never!’ said Richard rather too hastily.

‘Think I might seduce her from under your nose, then?’

‘Edward, you are known far and wide for your amours—but Kate is not such a one to be picked up and dropped lightly—even by the king!’

‘Well, lad, go to her. Go to your virtuous woman. After all, it says in the Bible that such a one is a pearl of great price—so rare is it!’ Hastings and Edward could not help sniggering again at these words—it was obvious to Richard they neither of them believed what he had told them of Kate’s character. Perhaps they had never been lucky enough to meet such a truly good girl?

‘Go on—bring her to court if you want! I promise to leave her alone. I am intrigued by this paragon of virtue. Luckily Lord Dorset discovered her for you, hiding away there, wasn’t it? She could hardly come to court looking for you!’ laughed Edward.

Richard bowed to the king but ignored the Marquess of Dorset as he hurried out, intent on the rescue of Kate.

Baynard’s Castle, London, May 1471

‘You should be perfectly safe here, my love!’ Richard murmured, taking Kate’s face between his hands and kissing her fondly. ‘And the little one! And you have Ruth to care for you. I will engage a nursemaid too, if you like! My mother, the Duchess Cecily, owns this mansion, but is rarely in London. I will tell her I have put you here for your own safety after what has happened, and I am sure she will not mind. There are just one or two servants to look after you and to keep the house in good order, so you should be very comfortable! I will come as often as I can to see you both! Why did you not tell me about the child as soon as you knew you were pregnant? Did you think I would not support you?’

‘I’m sorry. I just did not want to burden you. You lead such a busy life in the king’s service, and I was afraid to stay at home and incur my father’s wrath when he discovered my condition and that you were my lover! He is an ardent Lancastrian!’

‘And you—do you not have split loyalties?’

‘No, I was never interested in politics, like most women—but now I am all for York! How could I be otherwise! All that concerns me is that my dear love is here and has promised to protect me and the babe! Your world is wide, Richard, but mine is simply concerned with caring for my child and being safe from those court creatures!’

‘Bringing you here by night will ensure that they have no idea where you are. You need not worry. They will soon find other women to pursue. It is their mission in life, I fear! Richard Grey and the Marquess of Dorset will soon seek other conquests when they find you gone!’

‘They are not good friends for the king, surely? They must lead him into bad ways?’

‘He is easily led and weak when it comes to women, Kate. It is not all his friends’ fault! I love him whatever his faults of character. No one is perfect, for he is strong in other ways and has always supported me unwaveringly.’

‘He does not deserve your loyalty! You are a far better man than he is! If he had any strength of character, he would dismiss Dorset from the court and bar Lord Grey too!’

‘Maybe, but it is not up to us to decide how the king behaves—however we feel about his associates! Let us talk of happier things! The boy, now! He will be known as John of Gloucester—if you agree? And I will support him, educate him, and provide him with possessions and estates as befits my son. I will acknowledge him to the world and keep him near me. When he is old enough, he will be given positions befitting his rank. He is my beloved son—born of a beloved mother!’

‘And to think that my mother and my aunt Joanna both thought you would just treat me as a light-o’-love—and would never return to me—even discard me! I trusted you and knew better, Richard, my dear one. I know you will never be able to marry me. They will find some high-born princess or duchess for you—no doubt foreign—but I feel I will always have a great part of your heart!’

‘You will indeed, sweeting! And John also. Never fear—I will not desert you, whatever happens. I would marry you if I could—but I know and you know that it will never be possible.’

‘Will you acknowledge me and stand by me even if your future wife objects?’

‘Even then—she will have to accept you and the child’s existence!’

‘You are such a good man, Richard. Your loyalty never wavers to those you love.’

‘Loyalty binds me! That is my motto and I will never depart from it!’

Westminster Palace, London, 22 May 1471

‘So that’s it, then. Crazed King Harry is gone! His melancholy finished him off at last! They say the news of his only son Edward’s death—murdered after Tewkesbury—had him beating his head on his cell walls in the Tower until he knocked himself unconscious—never to wake up! The gaoler heard him at it late last night. They found him this morning in a pool of blood!’

‘I don’t believe it! It’s too convenient! Coming at just this time! He’s been done away with! Now Edward is king in truth, there cannot be another one living at the same time—crazy or not! To die on the same day as Edward returns? His death is too much of a coincidence to be anything else but deliberate!’

‘Agreed. I’ll lay odds of a hundred to one that Edward ordered it to be done!’

‘But who would do such a thing—even for the king?’

‘Lots of people—if the price was right! Maybe his own brother—
Richard?’

‘Hardly! Royals don’t do their own dirty work! There’s always someone willing to help them out—if they pay a high enough price! But hush—the king comes! It would not do for him to overhear what we are surmising!’

The two throne room footmen hurriedly closed their conversation and bowed as Edward entered, a frown disfiguring his normally happy demeanour.

‘Wine! Get me wine—several bottles! I have a mind to get roaring drunk! This whole thing reflects very badly on me and mine, even though I had nothing to do with the old fool’s death!’

The two footmen, eyebrows raised at each other, hurried away to do the king’s bidding.

‘My love, do not let it get you down! He obviously brought about his own death, as it is said! His only son’s death was one blow too many for his faltering mind!’ Queen Elizabeth murmured, stroking the king’s arm.

‘But everyone will say I ordered it—it’s almost as if he deliberately killed himself as a last desperate attempt to blacken my name! And he has probably succeeded!’ Head in hands, he shook off his wife’s consoling hand.

‘Richard! Where is Richard? I need him now!’

The horrifying news was all round London in a short time. Kate heard it from the servants late in the afternoon and could only think of Richard and how it could affect him, being the brother of the king—who would surely be incriminated in Henry’s death. It was an unfortunate start to what should have been a triumphal beginning to Edward’s reign following the conclusive victory at Tewkesbury for the House of York.

The Lancastrian cause was all but dead. Only one possible claimant to the throne now existed for them—the young Henry Tudor, far away in Wales. Richard had told her of his meeting with the boy and how they had got on so well. What a pity that now they would become bitter enemies on opposing sides—it was inevitable! But the boy was only about fourteen, far too young to raise an army to oppose Edward at this stage—Edward was now really secure as king. The death of Henry—by whatever means—made it certain that all Lancastrian opposition was dead. Even Queen Margaret could do nothing now. She was a broken woman, having lost her only son, the Prince of Wales, and now her husband, whom she had fought for with such determination. She was also safely imprisoned in the Tower—probably to be executed in the near future. Kate shivered. Such was the fate of those on the losing side.

Henry Tudor, Off Tenby Harbour,
Pembrokeshire, Late May 1471

Henry Tudor gazed at the fast-receding bay of Tenby, Pembrokeshire. He was leaving his land, his beloved Wales—for how long? Forever, possibly. Going into exile in France was not a pleasing prospect—but he had no alternative. His life probably depended on it now.

His Uncle Jasper, his lifelong protector, was by his side and smiled ruefully down at the youth, as Henry commented, ‘Where are all my Lady mother’s grand dreams and aspirations for me now, then? The Lancastrian cause is surely finished forever after that terrible Battle of Tewkesbury? All the Lancastrian nobles of any importance have been killed, and Edward sits more firmly on the throne than ever!’

‘Not all, boyo—there is you! They forgot about you away in Wales—the Yorkists—but will remember you now! Many great Lancastrian nobles fled into exile in France long since—when they saw how things were going. You will be among friends. And I will keep you safe and protect you, as I have always done, whether near or far! And King Louis will protect you also until another opportunity presents itself to forward your interests. You are the last hope of the Lancastrians—so a very precious charge for me!’

‘My mother has dreamt of the throne for me all these years! I am sure she is obsessed with grandiose ideas, and now the possibility of achieving her ambitions for me are as far away as they can possibly get surely?’

‘When all seems lost, there is always hope, my boy! Do not give up yet! I have picked myself up and carried on after endless disappointments and defeats! It’s the only way! As I said, you still have strong support—though it is scattered—in France many exiled Lancastrians will fight on your behalf when the time is ripe!’

‘But Edward is a young man. He will probably live for many years! He also has a strong young wife! She will surely bear him many sons to succeed him, even if his life is cut short. I would rather give up all idea of becoming king and live a normal, settled life! I yearn to return to the quiet peace of Raglan. I miss Maude Herbert and my horse Owen more than I can say! I know Maude misses me too—her letters tell me so. Her father wished us to be affianced in good time and we were both willing, but…’