The White Lord of Wellesbourne (7 page)

“And weaken his resistance.”

“Exactly. But there is more,
mon
ami
.”

“What more is there?”

“Wiltshire and Pembroke are
moving their armies to Shrewsbury. So are several other nobles. And do you know
why?”

“Nay.”

La Londe lifted an eyebrow.
“Because it is the midsection of the country. Occupy it, fill it, create a
noose around it and effectively cut off the north from the south. Separate
Richard from his allies.  And then the noose shall tighten as Henry arrives
with his army of French and Teutonic mercenaries to assume his rightful place.”

Howard could only think of what
he would gain once Henry took the throne. “So it comes,” he muttered, more to
himself than to La Londe. “We’ve waited so long that I can hardly believe it.
And to know that my niece will play a part in it…”

“As I said, her marriage to
Wellesbourne could not have come at a better time,” La Londe reiterated. “You
should be congratulated. Your niece will accomplish what hordes of men could
not.  The fall of the White Lord of Wellesbourne will be a great feat.”

It was why Howard had married her
off in the first place. He could see that his place of respect with Henry Tudor
would be assured. “Do not forget that, as the widow of Wellesbourne, she will
be a very wealthy woman and much desirable as a reward to a worthy ally.”

La Londe looked at him as if he
was daft. “Why do you think I am here?” he said. “Never imagine that I have
maintained my contact with you all of these years simply because I enjoy your
company.  I want something from you, Terrington.”

Howard was astute enough to
understand the implication. There could be no other choice. “You want my niece?”

La Londe nodded slowly, his
pale-colored eyes narrowed and glittering. He was a terrifying man at times. “I
have met the Lady Alixandrea. She is quite a prize. With Wellesbourne’s wealth,
she will be more than adequate compensation for my loyalties.”

As much as Howard was fairly
indifferent to his niece, he wasn’t at all sure he wanted to see her wed to La
Londe. But the man had indeed risked himself to support Henry Tudor’s cause and
had earned such compensation.  In fact, it was only through such adequate
recompense that La Londe sold his powerful loyalties.

“Fair enough,” he said. He
drained the last of his wine. “But we must veer back to the subject at hand; if
Henry’s arrival is as imminent as you say, then we must waste no time. The
wheels must be put in motion.”

“But the wheels are already in
motion,” La Londe barely let him finish before he was responding. “There are
two purposes at heart,
mon ami
. Not only must we destroy the
infrastructure of Wellesbourne, but in capturing the castle we must draw
Richard’s troops away from Henry’s arrival. While some of the York allies are
concentrated on regaining Wellesbourne, Henry will land in England and meet
with potentially less resistance.”

“My men will create a diversion.”

“Precisely. And they must hold
that diversion until Henry arrives.”

“When will we know?”

“I would expect word to arrive
within the next week. It is nearly June; Henry has been gathering strength for
some time now. He plans to be on the throne by September.”

Howard’s cup was empty. He rose
from his chair and collected the fine cut glass decanter that had been imported
all the way from the Holy Land.  The blood-red liquid swirled as he poured
himself another measure and then a cup for La Londe.  He offered the man the
chalice.

“A toast,” he said. “To plans
well received and well executed.”

La Londe lifted his cup. “To a
prize worth having.”

Howard drank deeply.  He’d made a
deal with the Devil and was very well aware of it.

***

The kirtle was a pale yellow and
the sleeveless surcoat a deeper, richer gold. Unlike most women of fashion who
wore a plackart from shoulder to chest as a sort of bib, Alixandrea’s breasts
were too full for such a thing so she had taken to wearing a whale bone corset
instead. It wasn’t unheard of in courtly fashion and supported her far more
adequately. The problem was that Jezebel laced her into the thing as if she was
tying up a pig to the spit. The more Alixandrea grunted, the harder Jezebel
pulled until she was satisfied that the stays were correct and the lacings in
the rear were property tied and left to trail.  As a whole, Alixandrea already
presented a lovely picture.

But there was more.  Jezebel
rolled fresh hose up each leg made of kersey, which was a lamb’s wool blend,
and fastened them with yellow ribbon.  Then the slippers went on, made from
damask and finely embroidered. Finally, it was time to tackle the hair, which
the little maid did so quite ably.

She had become adept had the art
of her mistresses hair and in little time, Alixandrea had a single thick braid
draped over one shoulder into which a dozen yellow ribbons had been interwoven.
Two golden hairpins in the shape of butterflies were placed strategically on
her head, and the ends of the long kirtle sleeves were fixed with decorative
weights to keep them properly draped. She wore no jewelry this night; she did
not need any.  By the time Jezebel was finished with her mistress, she was
indeed a presentable sight.

Alixandrea stood there for a
moment, gazing at herself in the polished bronze hand mirror that she had
brought with her. Golden-brown eyes gazed back and thick lashes tickled her
brow every time she blinked. Jezebel bustled around her, picking up the robe
from her earlier bath. She noticed her lady’s distant expression.

“What is it, m’lady?” she asked.
“Are ye not happy with yer presentation?”

Alixandrea shook her head and lay
the mirror down. Beside her, on a small table that one of Lady Caroline’s
servants had brought in, sat a small alabaster pot of a mixture of beeswax and
oil. Alixandrea was forever nibbling on her lips, a bad habit she had acquired;
consequently, they were always cracked and bleeding. She smoothed the ointment
on her lips to soothe them.

“I am,” she sighed. “’Tis simply
that this day... well, it has been exhausting. It certainly did not go the way
I had planned. And now I must face the entire castle as Matthew’s betrothed. I
suppose I am just a bit apprehensive.”

“But why?” Jezebel stood next to
her, her arms full of clothes. “Ye’re as lovely as an angel, m’lady. Can ye not
see that Sir Matthew thinks so, too?”

Alixandrea looked at her. “He
does?”

“Aye. He cannot take his eyes
from ye.”

“He can’t?”

“Nay.”

Alixandrea looked back at
herself. She fussed with the little tendrils of hair that curled around her
face, inspecting her features, wondering what he apparently found so
fascinating.   Jezebel went to put the laundry away and collected a small glass
vial of perfume oil out of one of the capcases.   She dabbed the scent of roses
and violets on her lady’s slender shoulders.

“There,” she said with quiet
approval. “Any man in this kingdom would be proud to have ye, m’lady. You go
into that hall tonight and show those Wellesbourne men what they have been
missin’.”

Alixandrea felt much better with
Jezebel’s encouragement. The woman was her staunchest supporter and her
harshest critic.  “Will you be all right tonight while I am at sup?” she asked
her.

“I shall find my way, m’lady.
Have no worries.”

Satisfied her maid would not
starve, she stood up and began to pace around. The chamber was very small,
hardly enough room for the bed, chair and small table, but it was comfortable
and more than likely the cleanest room in the keep. Of that she was moderately
sure.  She started to chew her lip but tasted the ointment and stopped. Then
she started to bite her nails, another bad habit, but Jezebel swatted her hands
so she clenched them into fists and lowered them. By the fourth trip around the
chamber, there was a soft knock at the door. Alixandrea froze as Jezebel opened
the panel.

Four men stood in the very small
landing just outside the door.  She recognized Matthew right away, for he was
the first one in the doorway. But what she saw amazed her; he had cleaned up
from his harrowing day and stood in a pale linen tunic, leather breeches and
massive boots. He wore no armor at all. His face was washed and she was sure
from the smoothness of it that he had shaved. His blue eyes glittered at her as
she came near, and the four men bowed deeply.

“My lady,” Matthew said. “We have
come to escort you to sup.”

“And just who might ‘we’ be, my
lord?”

“My brothers,” Matthew indicated
them in order. “Mark, Luke, and Johnny.”

“Just the four of you?”

“That’s all there is.”

A faint smile played on her lips
as she inspected the group; she recognized Mark only because she had met him
earlier on their frantic ride to Wellesbourne. He was the shortest brother,
stocky, with thinning black hair and a neatly trimmed black beard.  Beside him
stood Luke, who was as tall as Matthew but only half as wide. He smiled timidly
when their eyes met. The last brother was one she had yet to see, a tall,
slender young lad of perhaps twenty years with a head of wavy blond hair.  John
Wellesbourne had freckles all over his face and grinned shyly when she looked
at him. 

“A genuine pleasure, my lords,”
she dipped in a smooth curtsy. “I am honored.”

Matthew extended his hand. “If my
lady is ready, sup awaits.”

She allowed him to lead her from
the chamber and assist her down the steps. In fact, Matthew and Mark made sure
to stay in front of her, admonishing her to watch her step on the narrow
stairs.  John and Luke hovered just behind her, each vying for the spot
directly behind her. The stair well was too narrow for them to descend side by
side, so someone had to go first and someone had to bring up the rear. Luke
lost the battle when John finally shoved him out of the way and nearly made him
lose his footing.

Another spiral stair led from the
third floor to the second. This stairwell was wider, but it was nonetheless
steep. Matthew walked backwards, making sure she kept a grip on him as she
descended. It would not due for the lady to trip on her elegant gown and break
her neck. He could see John and Luke fighting behind her, slapping each other
around, but he ignored them. Like eager boys, they were immediately taken with
the latest addition to Wellesbourne.

The second floor of the keep
housed the enormous hall. There was a small entry way, into which the stairwell
was built, and the main hall off of that. When the five of them got to the
bottom of the stairs, Lady Caroline and an older man, stocky with thinning gray
hair, were waiting for them.

Lady Caroline gracefully
curtsied. “My lady,” she greeted, reaching out to take her arm. “How elegant
you look. I am so happy that you are here.”

Alixandrea smiled at her; she was
coming to like the lady. “I am happy as well. Thank you for your kindness.”

“Allow me to present the
patriarch of the Wellesbournes, Sir Adam,” Caroline indicated the man next to
her. “My lord, this is the Lady Alixandrea Terrington St. Ave, Matthew’s wife.”

Adam gazed at her a moment before
reaching out and gently taking her hand. He covered it with his big warm palm.
“I had no idea Matthew’s betrothed would be so lovely,” he said. “You must
forgive us, my lady.  Other than Lady Caroline, we are unused to such beauty in
this place. Your arrival has both brightened and honored us.”

“You are too kind, my lord,” she
said.  “Everyone had been so kind to me. I am most happy to be here.”

Adam smiled broadly, something he
hadn’t done in years, and tucked her hand into the crook of his elbow.
Witnessing this, it occurred to Matthew that he would not be permitted to
escort his betrothed into the great hall for everyone to see. His father would
do it.  But he made sure to walk directly behind her as the entered the
pungent, brightly lit hall.

Wellesbourne Castle harbored
something along the lines of five hundred men at any given time. With the
troops that Alixandrea had brought with her, that number was nearly doubled. 
The feasting hall was reserved for senior soldiers, officers and knights, and
there were about a hundred of them, all gazing at Alixandrea as she entered the
room on their liege’s arm.  A group of traveling minstrels had sought shelter
for the eve and stood in the corner, playing for their supper.  But even the
musicians silenced when the lady entered the room. It was the very same
reaction that those in the tavern in Newbold had suffered; the moment she set
foot in the room, no one could take their eyes from her.

Adam led her up onto the dais.  A
massive table was set upon it, full to bursting with food.  The enormous
hearth, at least eight feet tall, was directly behind them blasting heat in
their direction.  The brothers took their usual places at the table while
Matthew took up seat on Alixandrea’s right side. Usually he sat at his father’s
right, but tonight that privilege was reserved for his future wife.