Edward nodded.
‘Marriage with France,’ went on Warwick tentatively.
‘Indeed yes.’ Edward was thinking of the most enchanting woman he had ever met. When he had been hunting she had suddenly appeared before him and throwing herself on her knees had begged him to restore her husband’s estates. Edward had been amazed that one so young could be a widow. Her husband she told him had been killed at the second battle of St. Albans.
Edward fell in love as rapidly and regularly as most people sat down to dinner; and because of his charm and royalty he could invariably dispense with the preliminaries of courtship. It had been different with the fair young widow. She was most elusive, so he was thinking of her and only half listening to Warwick. He knew Warwick was right, of course. He would have to marry and marry soon. He only hoped the French Princess was personable. He could not abide ugly women. But with his habitual easy-going temperament he shrugged all that aside. He would have to do his duty and that need not interfere with his enjoyment.
Warwick was saying something about negotiations with the King of France, talking a little smugly. Edward smiled inwardly. He believed Louis treated Warwick as an equal. It was amazing what store Warwick set on that.
‘No honours,’ he had said. ‘It is enough to be Warwick.’
‘Louis has changed his tune of late,’ said Warwick complacently. ‘He is aware of our strength.’
Warwick was smiling to himself. He meant his power. The wily King of France knew where the power in England lay. The man who had his respect was not so much the King as the King-Maker.
Oh yes, he could be proud. He certainly was at the pinnacle of power.
###
The King of France was indeed his friend. When his ambassador, Jean de Lannoy, arrived in England he had glittering prospects to lay before Warwick. He could work with Louis. There would be peace between their countries. They would stand against Burgundy; and they would be the firm allies which surely fortune had meant two such brilliant men to be.
And of course there should be a French marriage. Edward needed a wife. Perhaps, considered Louis, his daughter was too young. She needed more years to grow up. What of his wife’s sister. Bona of Savoy?
This would be an excellent arrangement Warwick decided. He discussed it with his brother George.
‘The King should settle into matrimony,’ he said. ‘It is very necessary for one of his temperament. He should be producing heirs instead of bastards.’
George said that this was certainly so but he wondered how the King would feel about the choice of bride. Since he had become a connoisseur of feminine charms he might be difficult to please.
‘This is a marriage, George. No need for romance. Let the King marry and produce an heir. Who knows it might even sober him a little.’
George was in full agreement. It was an excellent idea to make a marriage which would please the King of France and strengthen the friendship between their two countries.
Edward listening to the proposal displayed his usual tolerant charm.
‘Can we trust Louis?’ he asked.
‘A marriage will bring us closer to him. When can one ever completely trust one’s allies?’
‘This Bona of Savoy...’ mused Edward.
‘A lovely creature by all accounts.’
‘They always are,’ said Edward. ‘Oh well, I daresay she is fair enough.’
Warwick was pleased when he reported to George.
‘He has given his promise?’
‘He has not said in so many words that he will agree to the marriage, but he will. He will see the advantages. Edward is no fool. He loves his crown. He’ll do everything he can to keep it.’
‘Or let you keep it for him.’
‘I think he is appreciative of what I have done.’
‘I should hope so.’
‘I knew when I made him King what to expect of Edward. I shall be with him shortly. He is pausing for a brief visit to Grafton Regis to stay with Lord Rivers and after that he will join me.’
‘He seems to have become very fond of the Rivers.’
Warwick laughed. ‘I believe his latest flame is Rivers’ daughter. Woodville’s widow.’
‘A very comely woman, I believe.’
‘So you have heard of her. My dear brother the King’s path is strewn with comely women.’
###
It would not be difficult to persuade the King, he was sure. Oh, he was very sure of himself. Rising on the crest of the wave. Warwick supreme. There was no doubt that he was the power in the land. The King of France treated him as though he were royal; he corresponded with him—not with Edward. All over the world he was known as the ruler of England, the power behind the glittering figure of the King, they must deal with him if they wanted friendship with England. Who would be a King when one could be a King-Maker.
He had made sure that his family shared his prosperity. That was wisdom. When he needed support they were at hand to give it. George of course as Chancellor was rich and powerful. John was now Warden of the East Marches; his two sisters had married into influential families, one to William Lord Hastings who was one of the King’s intimate friends and the other to Thomas Lord Stanley, member of a powerful northern family. He had scattered his influence. He believed that if he measured his possessions and his influence against those of the King he would be the richer.
And Edward was amenable. He seemed content to let Warwick rule. Even the King’s licentious habits were in Warwick’s favour. Better for the King to be so interested in the bed rather than politics. Not that Edward was a fool in those matters. There was strength in him and if he did not allow himself to be so often diverted by his pursuit of women he would have been a power to reckon with. So be grateful again, thought Warwick. All the same he must not allow Edward to become too friendly with men like Hastings, Stafford and Herbert. It would not do for him to get it into his head that he could do without Warwick. Not that he had, but he was growing up. It was easier to deal with a boy of seventeen than it was with a man rising into his twenties.
Edward was not a vindictive man. He could easily forgive his enemies; and one who had fought against him one year could become a friend the next. He was even ready to cultivate the young Duke of Somerset whose father had been one of the chief Lancastrians and Edward’s greatest enemy.
‘Unlike the scriptures, I do not visit the sins of the fathers on the third and fourth generation,’ said Edward. ‘If a man likes to come to me and be my friend, I shall be ready to forget what his father has done.’
And he did attract men to him; that ease of manner, that charm, those outstanding good looks brought him admirers and friends as well as a host of mistresses.
He was becoming very fond of the Rivers family, Warwick noticed. Why, Warwick could not understand. Surely it was not because he had at one time taken a fane y to Rivers’ daughter?
‘If he is going to favour the families of his mistresses,’ he joked to George, ‘we shall have so many favoured ones in the land that favours will be the older of the day. But we must get him married. I shall get an answer from him at the very next council meeting.’
###
It was at this council meeting that Warwick received his first intimation that the relationship between himself and Edward had changed.
There were many of Edward’s new and intimate friends present, and Warwick did not realize at first that they were there to rally round the King, who gave no indication to Warwick that anything had changed between them.
Everyone knew what hopes Warwick pinned on friendship with the King of France and how he prided himself on his ability to handle Louis. Therefore the first shock came when Edward declared that he did not trust Louis of France.
‘We have heard from our good friend the Earl of Warwick.’ said the King, ‘that Louis is eager for an alliance with us. But it is a fact that Pierre de Brézé, who is Margaret of Anjou’s warmest and most faithful supporter, is highly favoured at the Court of France.’
‘This is not so,’ cried Warwick. ‘When Louis came to the throne Pierre de Brézé was imprisoned in Loches...’
‘And quickly released,’ retorted Edward. ‘Moreover 1 have it from one of our French prisoners that Louis is plotting against us.’
‘That is nonsense,’ cried Warwick, shattered not so much by these accusations as by the fact that Edward had brought them up before the Council without first consulting him. ‘I shall send a despatch to the King of France immediately informing him of the allegations which have been made against him and asking him to prove to you all that they are nonsense.’
He looked defiantly at the King who met his eyes with a smile as he said that as usual the Earl of Warwick had got to the root of the matter and if he thought that was the right action then so must it be.
Warwick breathed more freely. It was not really a revolt. It was just an opinion he had expressed. He had not meant to go against him deliberately.
‘And now,’ said Warwick, ‘there is the question of the King’s marriage. This must be settled. I hope very nun h that the King will agree with me.’
Again that charming, affable smile. ‘I do, my lord. Indeed I do. Nothing would suit me better than to be married.’
‘Your subjects will be delighted,’ cried Warwick.
‘It may be,’ said the King, ‘that my choice may not be 10 the liking of everyone present. No matter, I shall do as I like in this.’
‘My lord,’ said Warwick beaming with pleasure, ‘tell us who is your chosen bride.’
He was certain now that all was well. He had discussed the marriage with Bona of Savoy, and Edward had understood what advantages it could bring.
I hen Warwick could not believe he had heard correctly. Had the King gone mad?
He was saying: ‘I have chosen my bride. She will be Elizabeth Woodville, daughter of Lord Rivers.’
A deep silence fell upon them. Warwick sat as though numb.
At length George Neville spoke. ‘The lady is virtuous and very beautiful, my lord,’ he said, ‘but is she not too far below you for marriage?’
‘She is indeed virtuous and beautiful,’ agreed the King. ‘As for her lowly station, praise be to God that is a matter which can easily be remedied.’
George was trying to divine what his brother was thinking. He knew that he could have had no idea that the King was going to announce this.
He stammered: ‘I know her mother was the Dowager Duchess of Bedford but she is not the daughter of a duke...nor an earl even. How would such a marriage be received, my lord? What would other rulers think?’
‘They shall be at liberty to think what they will. I will have Elizabeth Woodville or no one.’
‘My lord!’ Everyone was intent on Warwick who had now risen to his feet. ‘I know well your jovial nature. You are amusing yourself at our expense. You do not mean this, of course...’
Edward was still smiling but there was a strong note in his voice.
‘I mean it,’ he said. ‘I mean it with all my heart. Stop your efforts to persuade me. In any case they are too late. Elizabeth Woodville and I were married at Grafton Regis...’
Warwick sank to his chair. He said nothing. The beats of his heart were like hammer strokes. He could have struck that smiling, handsome face.
He said nothing, but he knew it was over.
The puppet had turned into a man and was no longer his to control.
###
When Warwick left the council chamber he had a great desire to be alone to think. In all his life he had never felt so shattered. That Edward had acted so was bad enough but it was some time since that May day at Grafton Regis and he had been keeping his marriage secret all this time...and meanwhile he, Warwick, had been negotiating with the King of France. Edward had humiliated him in the extreme. Not only had he broken free but he had actually kept this all important secret from the man who had made him.
Warwick was not sure how to act.
His brother George came to him in great anxiety. For some moments they looked at each other, unable to express their thoughts. George was very worried.
At length he said: ‘What shall you do?’
‘He is determined to act as he fancies. It is this woman. She must be a witch.’
‘He is easily bewitched by women.’
‘He has had so many he must feel very deeply to have been dragged into this by this one. Think what it means. He allowed me to negotiate with Louis while he was actually married. I shall be the laughing stock of all France and England.’
‘Not you, brother. Louis will understand that we have a feckless stallion to deal with.’
‘I shall never forget the way he stood there smiling at me...with that look in his eyes. "I will do what pleases me. I shall take no heed of the needs of my country, of the efforts the man who put the crown on my head made to do just that." Oh George, what base ingratitude!’
‘Indeed it is so,’ agreed George.
‘And think of the implications.’
‘I am thinking of that and wondering how you will act. Do you think it would be better to say nothing just at first? After all the deed is done. They are married. Nothing can change that...save divorce. You behaved with admirable calm at the Council.’
‘I was shocked into silence.’
‘That is not such a bad thing for it might have been dangerous for you to have spoken your thoughts.’
‘By God if I had...’
‘Yes...And we all were with you. This is an act of folly which I doubt not the King will learn to his cost and when he does it is to you he will turn, brother. He will wish that he had listened to you.’
Warwick was silent. George was right, of course. George had a clear, incisive mind. He would have to accept this low-born woman as the Queen. And in time it might well be that having seen his folly the King would turn back to him. He sighed deeply. Then he said: ‘You are right, George. I must be calm. I must say nothing. I must appear to accept this woman as Queen.’
Thus when Edward came to him smiling as though there had been no rift between them he agreed to present the Queen to the lords in Reading Abbey.
‘My brother Clarence will walk on one side of Elizabeth and you, Richard, on the other. That pleases me. My brother and my closest friend to welcome her. She will be so happy...and so shall I.’