The Jewels of Warwick (29 page)

 

 

"Aye, it does. And if I remember correctly, the King did read that
volume, and liked it."

 

 

Her eyes lit up. "Ah! Perhaps he's coming to his senses after all.
For I could have written this book myself. It expresses my
sentiments exactly. Alas, poor Fish died last year. I would have
loved to have collaborated with him on another book. Perhaps I shall
simply write one myself."

 

 

"No book of yours would ever be allowed in print," Amethyst said.

 

 

"When I am queen, I shall write and publish and circulate any book I
so desire," she answered defiantly, sliding the volume back into its
slot and giving it a gentle shove until it hit the back of the
bookcase with a thump.

 

 

"Heretics one and all will be welcome to write and argue anything
they wish. I shall hold court parties where Catholics and Lutherans
and heretics and anyone with a self-concocted religion will be
welcome to speak his mind and acquire as many followers as he can
carry on the tail of his robe!"

 

 

"Let me read this, if you do not mind," Amethyst said, sliding
"Utopia" out once again.

 

 

After seeing nothing in the last few years other than these
heretical and reformist books, and hearing Henry's incessant dinner
hour debates at the high table on vernacular versions of scriptures
and whether the Bible should be printed in English, she was in the
mood for some easy, light nonsense. She only wished her sister could
see that all she talked of was nonsense as well. The world was as it
was, and they would just have to make the best of it.

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

 

 

The lads arrived the next day, as delighted to see their aunt, as
she was to see them. Edward was nearly as tall as she, and held his
head high, his posture and carriage that of a true nobleman.

 

 

Richard George was smaller boned, lacking Edward's regal aura, but
with Topaz's mischievous twinkle in his eye, a gleam that no one
could decipher.

 

 

They were both dressed in identical brown velvet doublets trimmed
with ermine, sleeves slashed and turned up to expose an ermine
lining, tan hose and brown velvet shoes, richly embroidered with
green silk, sprays of tan lace at their collars and cuffs. They both
sported the closely cropped French haircuts. They were the picture
of miniature courtiers in every way. She wondered if Topaz always
dressed them up like twins. Thought of them as people, rather than
weapons of power.

 

 

Richard George sat beside her and asked her all about court, while
Edward, the first-born, sat quietly and listened carefully, asking
no questions.

 

 

What had Topaz been teaching him?
she wondered, but dared
not ever try to undo Topaz's dogma. It was not her place to. Still,
she wondered, and tried to gain some insight from the impressionable
adolescent mind.

 

 

"I would like to talk to you lads, Auntie to nephew, and keep this
between us." She kept her voice low. "How do you feel about our
King, Neddie?" she asked the lanky youth, old enough now to marry
and have children and ride into battle, nearly the age of her
beloved Henry when he had swept down the great aisle to his
coronation and captured her heart.

 

 

Her nephews had not had the same experiences in life as young Henry
had, and had perhaps been too sheltered. They had not seen as much
as a boarding school. Topaz had educated them both with tutors to
whom she paid great sums to come from Oxford and Cambridge to sit in
the comfortable solar and teach the boys mathematics, natural
science, music, philosophy, the classics, and of course, Latin,
Greek and French.

 

 

They'd never shot an arrow at an archery target; they'd never been
hunting or hawking—too dangerous, much too dangerous, and unkind to
animals. All sports save lawn bowling were too threatening to their
precious lives.

 

 

"Henry Tudor needs an heir and regrettably, Queen Catherine cannot
give him one."

 

 

"Do you still believe the Princess Mary is a bastard?"

 

 

"It all depends on whether the marriage is valid, just like any
other marriage," the boy replied disconcertingly.

 

 

"And do you believe it is?" she probed, wanting to know if this
young man, already sporting a neatly clipped but light beard, still
believed the words Topaz had introduced into his very young mind,
that he'd once spewed off by rote.

 

 

"I shall never know if Catherine and Arthur consummated their
marriage. No one will ever know. I say it would be cruel to
bastardize Mary now, after thinking her parents were truly married.
But once the divorce is final, it will be a moot point, will it
not?"

 

 

"Very clever thinking, Neddie, but the King wants a male heir. Mary
doesn't seem to count in his mind, for all she is clearly a royal
princess."

 

 

"Once he is dead, it will not matter to him. I believe a queen can
reign just as effectively."

 

 

She was so pleased for her nephew as she heard his words. Perhaps he
was able to think for himself after all.

 

 

"What about his succession to the throne? The way King Henry's
father had your grandfather killed so that he could eliminate him.
The way his father killed King Richard at Bosworth. Neddie, you're
old enough to understand all this now. Do you believe your mother
should be Queen Topaz and you King Edward?"

 

 

Edward smiled, and she remembered Henry not much older than this
age, the strong teeth, the look that spoke of sheltered privilege,
never having lived the excesses of pain or passion—not quite yet.

 

 

"Auntie Amethyst, we know mother has her beliefs. She always made
sure all our scholarly tutors never taught us English history past
the crazed old Henry the Sixth and Margaret of Anjou. That is where
she commanded them to stop abruptly because that was where she
always picked up where they left off. Both Richard George and I do
not think Grandfather Edward would ever have made a good king. He
was a feeble and simple fellow. How can someone spending all his
life in the Tower ever be a strong leader? He knew nothing of the
world.

 

 

"Also, King Richard could have killed Henry at Bosworth but it
happened the other way round because Richard had traitors. Henry
Tudor was lucky, that is all. He went on to become a strong king.
That is the way it was. Besides..." he chuckled and his voice
cracked a bit, riding the cadence of the high-pitched laugh, "I
would not make an effective king. I would let my subjects get away
with murder! I would not fight for our borders. I would let the
French come in through the front door and the Scots through the back
door and the entire kingdom would be one big orgy!"

 

 

So relieved she was to hear her nephew talking this way, she reached
over and hugged him tightly, bringing Richard into her embrace as
well. "Oh, Neddie, I am so relieved you are not going to fight for
this dubious claim to the crown. Your mother has made this quest her
entire life's dream, but you must stay by her, help her, and always
remember she loves you both very much."

 

 

Perhaps now that the boys were becoming proper young men in their
own right, maybe they could talk some sense into their mother, to
forget this lunatic cause, for their sakes, to continue helping the
less fortunate citizens of the kingdom keep warm with full bellies,
which even Henry admitted he appreciated.

 

 

"Tell me, Neddie, have you ever told your mother about your
beliefs?"

 

 

Edward shook his head and grinned. "Never! She would have my head!"

 

 

"I enjoy helping Mother tend to the animals and feed the poor and go
about the countryside distributing blankets and food and I don't
even mind shelling peas now and then," Richard George piped up, "but
I wish she would just forget about wanting to be queen. With her
outlawing hunting and letting all the animals multiply and roam
free, England would become quite uncivilized, wouldn't it, Ned?"

 

 

They all laughed and went off to the dining hall to enjoy a
companionable meal together, Amethyst's mind at rest for the first
time in as long as she could remember. All would be well, for her
sister and her sons, and between she and Henry with no threat of
family rebellion standing between them ever again.

 

 

 

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

 

 

Warwick Castle

 

 

A fine mist sprayed Amethyst's face as she stood atop Guy's Tower.
This was her very favorite part of Warwick Castle, where no one ever
came to bother her, for the climb up the circular stone steps was so
steep and strenuous, people rarely ventured the ascent, even for the
reward of the sweeping view.

 

 

As happy as she was to be back with her family, the only person on
her mind—the only one who mattered to her rose above them all. She
missed Henry, longed for him, with every beat of her heart.

 

 

In all the months she had been there, she'd heard nothing from
court. No messengers came, no gossip wound its way up the rutted
paths and worn roads to Warwickshire. Topaz's cronies had nothing to
report. But she knew he'd be back.

 

 

She heard the sound of soft footsteps and turned to the staircase.
Who would venture up all those hundreds of steps in the cold rain to
speak with her unless it was important?

 

 

Her heart leapt in anticipation of her visitor. Finally a figure
came into view in the shadows—a white head-dress, a slim neck, a
graceful pair of shoulders covered in white fur and blue velvet.

 

 

"Emerald! What are you doing here?" Amethyst left the mist-shrouded
view of the countryside behind to greet her sister.

 

 

"I just wanted to talk to you," she replied, her breath coming in
rapid puffs of vapor that collapsed in the cold droplets swirling
around them. "Why on God's earth do you come up here in the cold,
Amethyst?" she asked. "You'll catch your death!"

 

 

"'Tis peaceful and quiet and I can see the world from a different
perspective. It gives me a sense of immortality to see the earth
from such a lofty perch."

 

 

"Please, we have enough lusting for immortality in this family
already," she said, hugging her arms about her. "'Tis colder up here
than I thought it would be. Come back down to the solar. There's a
cozy fire there, we can sip some ale—"

 

 

"If you want to talk, we shall talk here," Amethyst replied sternly.
"No one will interrupt us or hear us, you can be sure of that."

 

 

She returned to her spot overlooking the winding River Avon with the
footbridge in the distance. "If William the Conqueror could have
stood here in the most inclement weather to build this castle, then
we can certainly stand here and merely talk."

 

 

"He built only that section down there," Emerald said, pointing to a
mound way below them. "And they had their fires on days like this."

 

 

"Aye, a poxy central hearth with a hole in the ceiling. They must
have frozen their culls off in winter. We are fortunate enough to
have a fireplace in nearly every room. Imagine having lived during
those primitive times," Amethyst mused, holding her face up to let
the mist replenish the moisture that the dry fires had robbed from
her skin.

 

 

"Amethyst, you have not been yourself since you've been home,"
Emerald said. "You were always so attentive of me, willing to teach
me new things, singing, playing our music together. You have not
touched your lute or harp since you've been back. Music has always
been such a passion with you. Why do you not play anymore?"

 

 

"Because it reminds me too much of court, Emerald, and it depresses
me so. I do not want to be reminded of my life there, I see it
enough in my dreams, I do not need to hear it, too."

 

 

"Are you never going back?"

 

 

"Aye, I shall go back. When the King comes back for me."

 

 

"But why would the King do such a thing? He has a kingdom to rule.
He cannot be taking time off to chase after maidens."

 

 

She looked at her youngest sister and regarded the bright blue eyes
that shone with starry innocence. She was yet untouched by the
driving forces of love, of the tangle of emotions it aroused,
including its antithesis, hate. How closely they were related, how
they both made a person act in the same way!

 

 

"You are right, he has a kingdom to run. But he also has many
personal problems. He is trying to divorce the Queen, but the Pope
and Catherine's allies are giving him a very difficult time of it.
He will come and get me because we share a very special bond. We
grew very close since my arrival at court, and he needs me the way I
need him. I have no doubt at this moment, he is sulking in his
chambers or playing a solitary game of cards with nothing but a
pitcher of wine to soothe him."

 

 

"Do you love the King, Amethyst?"

 

 

"Aye, very much, dear sister. But it is a special love that has only
been strengthened by our separation. I miss him now more than ever,
but I had to leave in order to give him more time to sort out his
problems and contend with his great matter. And when his matter is
resolved, he will be back for me, Emerald. I know King Henry, and I
have a little piece of his heart right here with me. It will not be
long before he comes back to claim it."