A Rose for the Crown (43 page)

He had whispered for her to come as they supped and that he could not wait to love her again. Kate was afraid Jack would hear, but Margaret was keeping up a stream of chatter on Jack’s other side and artfully plying him with questions about his passion, his newest ship. Once Jack was satisfied that his royal guest was entertained enough by Kate, he indulged his wife’s curiosity, leaving Kate and Richard to their whispers.

Kate was soon inside Richard’s chamber. His squire was there, waiting to draw the curtains around the bed and throw a log into the brazier before discreetly leaving the room for a place near the fire in the great hall.

Their lovemaking was less tentative, more passionate than in the afternoon, and both enjoyed a rapture neither had known existed. But they also spent the night talking, as young lovers will, Kate telling him her impression of the first time she saw him and how she came to be at Edward’s coronation. What they had in common, they discovered, was that both were sent from home at an early age. When Kate asked about his mother, Richard went quiet.

“I have not spent enough time with her to know if she is happy or no,” he began. “But I know she is a very brave and loyal lady. Edward says I am more like her than my father in character. I do not know what he means, unless it is that I am more serious than he and George. But I will tell you a tale about my mother that chills me every time I remember it. It has never left me and often inspires my nightmares.”

Richard was sitting up, his arms wrapped around his knees, and Kate lay beside him, her hand caressing his back. They were both hot behind the heavy drapes, and Richard flung one open to let in some air. The warm glow of the firelight softened his features and played along his strong arms. He had two or three scars from his training, Kate saw. His face took on a far-off look.

“’Twas the year of my seventh birthday. George and I went with our
mother across the country to a place called Ludlow. It is a massive castle, fearsome to me then, for my birthplace, Fotheringhay, is a gentle place, even though it is also fortified. ’Twas there that I first met Edward and my brother Edmund. He was killed—murdered, you know—at Wakefield. My brothers seemed immense to me, and I was so proud of them, because they were already soldiers. How I wanted to be a soldier like them! But George and I were just boys.”

“How old was George?”

“He is three years older than me, and he is tall, like Edward—like my mother’s side. I am like our father, though I hardly remember him now. At Ludlow, Edward paid a great deal of attention to me, and Edmund and George seemed to become friends. I made a vow then that I would follow Edward to the ends of the earth. And I meant it.

“Edmund was only sixteen—the age I will be in a few months. We spent a wonderful summer, at least it was for me. I learned to love the wild Welsh hills around us, so different from the flat fenlands I had known. I watched Edward and Edmund practice sword fighting and archery, and I was so happy. I was too young to know what was happening outside the walls.”

“What was happening, Richard? Were your father’s enemies close by?” Kate was fascinated. Her childhood at Bywood Farm now seemed humdrum, and she could not imagine not meeting her siblings until she was seven.

“Aye. They were close. My uncle—my mother’s brother, the earl of Salisbury—came riding in one day in September. He brought an army with him, but many of them had been wounded fighting King Henry’s forces on the way from Coventry. I should say the queen’s forces, because the addle-pated king was unfit to lead soldiers, and Queen Margaret was the leader, in truth. Then came my lord of Warwick, Salisbury’s son, and his troops. It was a glorious sight to behold—trumpets blaring, banners flying, horses and men jostling in the courtyard and beyond, and my father and mother standing on the castle steps to greet them. All those men camped in and around the castle, all ready to fight for York.” He paused, remembering.

“Go on, Richard,” Kate whispered. “I can hear the horses, see the soldiers . . .”

“My father and mother hated the queen. All I heard was She-wolf this and She-wolf that. With all those men at my father’s command, I imagined that Margaret would take one look and run away. After all, she was just a woman. Ouch!”

Kate had pinched him hard on the rump, and he grinned at her.

“My apologies. I forgot who I was bedding! Now, pray do not interrupt again, madam, I beg of you. The queen even spoiled my birthday feast. In the midst of it, a messenger arrived with news that she had moved on to Worcester and was closing fast. I did not understand numbers in those days and I did not know that her army was much larger than ours. My father sent petitions saying the York lords were loyal to the crown, because he knew his army was no match for hers. She just kept coming and coming—and then she was there, the She-wolf was there.” He broke off to gather his thoughts.

“Betrayed.” His voice was flat. “That was what my father was—betrayed. Warwick brought with him the best soldiers from Calais, commanded by a traitor named Andrew Trollope. We did not know he was a traitor, but just before the battle, he ran over to the queen’s side with all his troops and gave away the battle plan.” His agitation mounted as he talked of Trollope. “There is nothing worse this side of hell than a traitor! If I ever find that man, I will kill him for the coward he is!” Richard thumped his fist several times on the bed, narrowly missing her leg.

Kate was not prepared for his anger. She picked up his hand and drew it to her lips. Richard seemed unaware of his outburst and continued in a measured tone.

“My father and the other lords decided they must fly. I remember that night. I was sitting in the solar, looking down on the hall and watching the lords come and go, my father shouting, my mother crying, my brothers pacing up and down. My mother then came to put George and me to bed. When I awoke, there was chaos. I could hear shouts and shawms and the familiar sounds of horses and troops, but when I looked out of the window, I did not recognize anyone, and I could see smoke coming from the village. George and I were kneeling on the window ledge, watching, as soldiers pulled our grooms out of the stables and stuck them with pikes and knives.” His voice was harsh with painful memories.
“The screams! I can still hear their screams. I saw a girl with her clothes ripped off and a man raping her, although I did not know what he was doing at the time. There was wine flowing in the courtyard and men licking it up and laughing at the butchering of the young grooms. Then there was smoke in the stables, and a few terrified horses galloped out and trampled on the bodies of the poor grooms. It was hell, I knew I was seeing hell!” Richard’s voice had risen to a crescendo. Kate pulled him down to her.

“Hush, my lord, hush. ’Tis over and done. You are here, safe with me,” Kate soothed him. She hesitated but thought he needed to remember his first reason for telling her this. “Tell me about your mother. Just about your mother. What did she do? Where was your father?”

Richard calmed down and lay in the crook of her arm. “My father and the army fled during the night. I was so tired, I suppose I slept through it all. My mother could not travel with them because of George and me and my sister Meggie—Margaret. We were too young to follow a fleeing army. My father thought that we would be safer alone, that the queen would not harm a woman and her children. In that he was right.

“The next morning, my mother dressed us and led us out of the castle and to the market square. We stood on the steps of the market cross with all the looting going on around us until the queen herself arrived. You should have seen her, Kate, all in black armor on a black horse—the She-wolf herself, looking like a She-devil. She was terrifying, and I know I started crying. My mother stood there, proud and brave, and calmly asked for mercy for her, us and the townspeople. Everything went quiet, and even the drunken soldiers looked at her with some respect. Margaret had us marched away to a tent and then gave her soldiers permission to ransack our castle and pillage the town. So much for mercy!”

Tears rolled down Kate’s cheeks. She imagined Johnny and Geoff in the same situation, watching horrors and not knowing if they were about to die. She snuggled closer to Richard, wrapping her arms around him as if to keep him safe.

“It was months before my mother knew where the duke, my father, had gone. Or my brothers. George, Meggie and I were sent into the Archbishop of Canterbury’s care, and for a year I had my nose stuck in
schoolbooks. I did not realize that I was a prisoner, because his grace, the archbishop, was kind when he saw us, but I wondered why we were there.”

Kate heard about Richard’s father and Edmund lying low in Ireland while Salisbury, Warwick and Edward gathered a force in Calais during the winter months. In the dismal, wet summer of 1460, the Calais army landed in Kent and routed the king’s forces at Northampton.

Richard chuckled. “Poor King Henry. He was still sitting in his tent when the battle ended and was easily captured and taken back to London. Then my mother came and fetched us and took us there, too. Not long afterwards, my father rode into the city. It was a magnificent sight to see—the people all cheering him, and he smiling and waving—such a difference from the last time I saw him. I was so proud, the three of us children jumped up and down and hugged one another.”

“But he was not a king, Richard. Why did the people cheer him as if he were?”

“He acted like one, I suppose, because he thought he should be king. He marched into the palace and demanded the crown from Henry directly to his face, on his throne. Edward told us all this and said everyone was very angry, but finally they agreed to recognize him as Henry’s heir.”

“I remember this!” Kate abruptly sat up, causing Richard’s head to flop onto the pillow. “I remember Cousin Richard telling the story at Ightham. It does not seem possible that I am now talking to that man’s son.”

“You are doing more than talking to him, Kate. You are loving him, are you not?” Richard reminded her. She bent and kissed him on the mouth, and Richard could not resist her. It did not matter that she had cut his story off just before his father’s demise. He did not need to relive that grisly moment. He buried his unhappy memories in Kate’s loving embrace.

D
ESPITE
HIS
YOUTH
, Richard already possessed the air of a leader, Kate noticed with pride. She watched him from the solar window walking with Jack along the tree-lined road to the kennels in the field in front of the house. Richard was doing most of the talking. Every now and then, Jack would nod or bow his head in assent. As they arrived back at the
house, Richard put his hand on Jack’s arm in a gesture of friendship, and Jack gave another low bow.

Kate knew exactly what they were discussing. She cast her mind back to early that morning, before she had slipped back to her own chamber.

“Wake up, Kate!” Richard gently shook her awake. She had been startled when she saw Richard’s face above hers and for a moment forgot where she was. A slow, sleepy smile spread over her face as she remembered.

“My love, I need to talk to you, and then you must leave for fear of compromising our hosts.”

“Ha! We would not shock Margaret, in truth. ’Twas she who first suggested we become lovers, Richard, not three hours before we did!” Kate laughed at his slack jaw. “What would you talk to me about?”

“I have been thinking about us. It is plain to me that I must see you if and when I can, but it will not be easy if you will not come with me. You are certain you will not come? I would take care of you. You would have everything you need, you know that.”

Kate slipped her shift back over her head, got out of bed and began braiding her hair. Richard made it sound easy. “Everything you need,” she repeated to herself. But would it be worth sacrificing her pride and her principles? Certes, there would be fine clothes, jewels, luxurious apartments and last but not least Richard. What would happen to her if he tired of her or if he married and his lady sent her packing? How would she hold up her head with her family and her friends? She would be forever known as Gloucester’s whore. What man would want her after that except for one looking for an easy roll between the sheets? She weighed her burgeoning love for Richard and her need to be loved against the moral standards set for her at her simple but decent beginnings. If she could have Richard and yet keep her dignity, she might compromise. She decided she would consider a liaison, but only on her terms. She took a deep breath and faced him.

“Aye, Richard. I know you would look after me. But I also know I have no wish to be known as your leman. We are sure of what we feel, but as soon as those in your world should know I am a wife—and so an adulteress—tongues will wag, and I could not hold up my head. What of
Father and Mother Haute? Mayhap they would be happy to have a connection at court, but in their hearts I would be a grave disappointment to them, and I honor them too much to bring shame on their name.” She paused and looked at him. “And I also honor you too much, my lord. You do not seem to me to be a man who would flaunt a mistress.”

Richard jumped out of bed and lifted her high in the air. “Kate, my dear, you do make me ache for love of you!” He put her down and cupped her chin. “If you could see yourself now, there is no man who could not love you! You are a flower—nay, a rose—and fit for a king, not a lowly duke like me! How could I or anyone not respect your honor after such a pretty speech? Well done, my rose! This is how we shall proceed, for I will have you, Kate, make no mistake.” Kate blushed. “If you must, stay with George and play the dutiful wife. But you will pledge your love to me and I to you. If you do, I shall make sure we are together as often as I can arrange. My service to my lord of Warwick is ending, and I fear I must soon choose between my duty to him and my love and loyalty for my brother. Until then, I am free to come and go from court, and you are but a day’s hard ride from London.