Epitaph for Three Women (41 page)

‘Your Duchess will make sure that the peace is kept between you and her brother.’

‘Oh yes. Thank God for Anne. But her health gives me some anxiety, Bishop.’

‘She is young. She is devoted to you.’

‘I thank God for that. I pray for a child – so does Anne. She longs for it.’

‘He will grant your wish in time,’ said the Bishop.

The Duke found it difficult to shake off his gloom, and the Bishop thought: This affair of the Maid has unnerved him … as it has us all.

On the Duke’s orders the young King left Paris for Rouen, but it was the end of January before he landed at Dover where he rested for a while and by slow stages made the journey to London, where a great welcome awaited him and although it was cold February the people came out in their thousands to greet him. He looked very handsome in his robes of State with the crown on his head. ‘The dear little King,’ they called him. Banners fluttered from every possible place and the procession was halted again and again as it made its way through the streets of London. Young girls recited poems on the virtues of their King and they did not fail to stress the fact that he was King of France as well as of England.

It was all very pleasant and one of those rare occasions when he was glad he was the King.

Humphrey of Gloucester was there to welcome him back. He was never sure of Uncle Humphrey. He knew that Uncle Bedford, stern as he was, was a man of great honour and virtue. He was not certain what Uncle Humphrey was.

Humphrey had been Regent during his absence and he saw at once that there was a change in his uncle’s attitude towards him. He was a little more deferential.

Ah, thought Henry wisely, it is because I am growing up.

When Humphrey had told him how pleased he was that he had returned safely and how delighted that the people of London had welcomed him so warmly – both sentiments of which Henry with growing shrewdness was a little suspicious – he then began to tell him about the iniquities of Cardinal Beaufort.

Something would have to be done about that old rogue, said Uncle Humphrey.

To hear the dignified Cardinal referred to in such terms was bewildering. But then life often was to a King who was taking such a long time to grow up.

The Duchess of Gloucester was very pleased with life. From comparatively humble origins she had risen high, for who would dispute the fact that while the Duke of Bedford was absent from England engaged on the French wars, the Duke of Gloucester was the most important man in England – King in all but name; and as she held a powerful influence over him, this meant that the Duchess was a lady of great consequence.

It had been a great triumph to get Humphrey to marry her. As plain Eleanor Cobham she had enchanted and enslaved him and there were few, apart from Eleanor herself, who believed that she could continue to do so and with what effect. But Eleanor had complete confidence in herself. Humphrey had never met a woman like her. As deeply sensual as he was himself she could continue to excite him in that field which had always been important to him; but there was more than sexual accomplishment to Eleanor. She was as wily as any statesman; and she knew how to play a waiting game. There was nothing impulsive about her. She had her eyes well on the future.

There was a little King – a minor for some years to come – malleable as clay in the clever hands of those who knew how to mould him. He had two uncles and one was engaged in the French wars. That left the field clear for the other – Gloucester … or would have if those who tried to impede him were swept away.

She was waiting for her husband when he returned from greeting the King.

Humphrey came bursting into their apartments. She went to him and removed his cloak, then putting her arms about his neck gave him a deeply passionate kiss on the lips. He responded as he could never resist doing and said: ‘Oh, Eleanor, Beaufort’s back with the King.’

‘That snake,’ she said. ‘It’s time someone finished him.’

‘We must.’

‘Come,’ she said. ‘Will you eat? Will you rest? What do you wish, my love?’

‘To be with you … to talk and talk … This thing’s on my mind. He’s got Bedford’s confidence.’

‘We’ll eat first,’ she said, ‘and then go to bed … and you can talk as you will.’

Later they lay side by side in the bed they delighted to share and they talked about the Cardinal … and Bedford.

‘My brother has aged. This woman has upset him.’

‘One would not expect him to be upset by a woman.’

‘No ordinary woman, I assure you, but one who heard voices … a virgin no less.’

‘And Brother Bedford would respect that!’

‘He proved her a witch and burned her at the stake but she haunts him. I can see that. He’s not sure. She was so convincing at her trial … she confounded Beauvais and the lot of them. And how could a peasant girl do that? That’s what they ask themselves. I can tell you that girl is responsible for more than the loss of Orléans and the crowning of the Dauphin.’

‘But now she’s dead.’

‘She lives on in a way. The French thank Heaven she was on their side and that idea can’t be shifted.’

‘To let the girl burn at the stake! Heaven’s help wasn’t much use there.’

‘It’s made a sort of legend of it. After all they are saying Christ was crucified. If the girl had gone back to her flocks she would have been forgotten in a few months. Now they will never forget.’

‘So Bedford suffers, does he?’ The Duchess was smiling.

‘He looks older.’

‘And he is happy with his Duchess? You brothers are lucky in your marriages. Henry enjoyed Katherine. By the way, there is still scandal about her frolicking with the Welsh squire.’

‘Let her,’ said Gloucester. ‘She’s no threat to us.’

‘No, and we waste time to consider her. Humphrey, if Bedford were to die …’

‘He is a young man yet.’

‘In battle perhaps. After all your brother Henry died at thirty-five.’

‘Yes, if he were to die what then?’

‘What then indeed, my Humphrey. Do you realise that you would be next in line to the throne?’

‘Young Henry is a healthy enough boy.’

‘H’m …’ she murmured and there was speculation in her beautiful eyes. ‘We must hope the way remains clear. Bedford may live for years yet. His Anne may have a son … which God forbid.’

She was deeply thoughtful; ideas had come to her which she would not share even with Humphrey.

She had become a Duchess and no one would have believed she ever could. Was it possible for her to be a Queen?

There was one man who would ruin their plans if he had a chance and that was Humphrey’s uncle, Cardinal Beaufort.

He must go. Humphrey had tried hard enough to get rid of him and had failed so far. It was a pity that the old Cardinal held such power. It was a pity that he was of a royal strain. It was all very well for Humphrey to call him Bastard. So might he have been born but old John of Gaunt’s paternal instincts had been strong and he had cared so much for Beaufort’s mother that he had insisted on her children being legitimised. And Henry Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester and now Cardinal, had shown his loyalty to the crown all through his life. It was hard to unseat such a man.

‘I think we have him this time,’ said Gloucester. ‘We’ll get him on praemunire. I have it on good authority that he has bought an exemption from the jurisdiction of Canterbury. He has given bribes. And look how rich he is. How did he come by such possessions?’

‘To get him removed would be a great triumph,’ said Eleanor.

‘Never fear, my love, I shall do it.’

‘I never doubted that you would. Tell me more of Bedford.’

‘He is as ever … determined to carry out my brother’s death-bed wishes. A little upset about Burgundy though. He made a mistake over Orléans and should have let the town surrender to Burgundy. Wasn’t going to beat the bushes to let someone else get the birds, ha, ha. He thought he was clever. And Bedford doesn’t like to make mistakes.’

‘You would say matters do not go well in France.’

‘I would indeed say that.’

She put her arms about him and drew him towards her. ‘We have matters here in England with which to concern ourselves,’ she said.

It was May when Henry opened Parliament and a very unpleasant session it was because of the quarrel between Uncle Humphrey and Cardinal Beaufort.

During it the Cardinal rose and confronting him and his Uncle Humphrey demanded to know what accusations were being brought against him.

There was a great deal of recrimination and talk which Henry could not understand but he was well aware of the hatred between his Uncle Humphrey and his great uncle the Cardinal.

He gathered that the Cardinal had made treaties with the Pope and that by so doing he had acquired special privilege; he had amassed great wealth; and above all his Uncle Humphrey would not rest until he had confiscated the Cardinal’s vast wealth and exiled him from the country.

It was all very distressing for Henry who was afraid of both of them. He was glad they did not expect him to take any decisions as yet. That was all for the Parliament to do.

He was relieved when the Parliament told him to declare his faith in the Cardinal; but it was all very bewildering and it seemed that the Cardinal was not very happy about the proceedings. Henry had heard his Uncle Humphrey say that the Bishops would be rather excited at the prospect of the See of Winchester being vacant and that would be helpful. Henry could not understand that at all. It seemed to have nothing to do with the Cardinal’s guilt.

After that they discussed seizing his jewels, which was also difficult for Henry to understand. Later he heard that the Cardinal had lent the crown a great deal of money so that seemed to settle the matter.

But Henry young as he was knew that his uncle would continue to hate the Cardinal and try to harm him; and the Cardinal would always be Humphrey’s enemy.

As the Court was at Westminster for the session of the Parliament, it was easy for Eleanor to go on a little errand which had long been in her mind. Divesting herself of her jewels and her fine velvet robe, she put on the clothes of a merchant’s wife and with one of her attendants likewise clad she slipped out into the streets and the pair mingled with the crowd.

They made their way in silence to an inn in one of the narrow streets. The innkeeper came out, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Eleanor, and he was about to bow obsequiously when a look from her restrained him.

‘The horses?’ she said.

‘Ready and waiting …’ he answered promptly.

She nodded and with her attendant went out with the innkeeper to the innyard where two horses were already saddled. The innkeeper helped Eleanor to mount and did the same for her attendant. Then the two women rode together out of the yard.

It was not very far to the Manor of Eye-next-Westminster and having reached the little hamlet they went to an inn to leave their horses. They were received there with the same respect.

Although these precautions irritated Eleanor at the same time she was elated by them. An intriguer by nature she enjoyed the thrill of mystery. She wanted no one to know of her visits to Margery – not even Humphrey. Eleanor had great faith in Margery, and she had suffered a certain shock not so long ago when Margery had been sent to Windsor, suspected of sorcery.