Epitaph for Three Women (49 page)

Owen was disturbed, as she had known he would be, to discover that she had divulged their secret.

‘It is time my son knew he had a family,’ said the Queen.

Henry had always liked Owen; and he was very ready to accept him as his stepfather. He talked freely and much restraint dropped from him in the company of his mother and stepfather.

He told them about his life under the guardianship of the Earl of Warwick. How the Earl had insisted on his excelling at equestrian sports and how when he went overseas he had had a harness garnished with gold made for him. He told them a great deal about his stay in France and how he hated being crowned in Paris. ‘It is depressing to feel the people don’t really want you. I didn’t want to be King of France. They already had a King in any case. He was crowned at Rheims which is the proper place for Kings of France to be crowned. Joan of Arc arranged that.’ His expression darkened, and his mother knew that he continued to be disturbed by Joan of Arc. They should never have allowed him to see her. The woman was a witch and had clearly laid a spell on him.

But his melancholy did not last long. He was so delighted to find himself in the centre of a family.

It was a sad King who took farewell of his mother and stepfather.

Humphrey of Gloucester was delighted that Warwick had been sent to France as Regent. He might have gone himself. No, that wouldn’t have been wise. Eleanor had said that he should remain in England now and as usual she was right.

The King was only fifteen – a minor still; and as the next in succession he was closer to him than any.

They had one great interest in common. Many people had been amazed at Humphrey’s love of literature. When he was surrounded by literary men his character seemed to change. He loved discourse and he seemed to throw off his arrogance and his obsessive ambitions in their company. He had amassed a collection of rare books and now and then would shut himself away to read. The scholar seemed quite apart from the sensual man of the world. It was as though two people lurked behind that countenance once so handsome and now considerably debauched.

Humphrey had undertaken the education of his nephew and had imbued him with a love of literature. It was the one ground on which they could meet, and Humphrey was delighted to discover in the King a willing pupil. Henry enjoyed the study of books rather than outdoor sports and on these grounds he and Humphrey were in tune.

‘When you have the power,’ Humphrey had said, ‘you must do all you can to promote learning. You must keep the universities rich and able to perform their function. You must encourage men of letters.’

Henry fervently assured his uncle that he would.

They had visited the universities together. They went to Oxford, Cambridge and Winchester; Henry was very interested in the new university at Caen which his uncle Bedford had founded.

So he and Humphrey could be happy together with their books, for Henry loved to handle books, loved the thrill of opening them and discovering their contents.

But he too was already aware of the other side of Humphrey, and he seemed less interested in his books since his marriage to his new Duchess.

Henry did not like Eleanor. Sometimes he felt really uneasy when she was near. He would look up suddenly and see her eyes fixed on him and there would be an expression in them which he did not understand.

It was during one of those friendly sessions with Uncle Humphrey when he spoke of his visit to Hadham.

They were in Humphrey’s library and Humphrey had talked for some time about a book which he wished Henry to read.

‘When you have read it I think you will agree with me that the author should be encouraged. Perhaps a small pension …’

Henry agreed with enthusiasm.

‘He lives in Hertfordshire,’ went on Humphrey. ‘I have sent for him to come and see me. There are one or two points I want to talk over with him.’

‘I was in Hertfordshire recently,’ said Henry. ‘I wish I had known. I might have sent for him. I was visiting my mother.’

He did not notice that Humphrey had become more alert.

‘And how was the Queen?’

‘Very, very happy …’

‘Indeed.’

‘I don’t know why there should be this secret. Owen is a good man … He is worthy in every way.’

‘I heard some talk of the Queen and Owen Tudor.’

‘He is my stepfather.’

‘Ah, there was a rumour. I knew that he was the Queen’s devoted friend … but marriage. There is a law, you know, about the marriages of people like the Queen.’

‘The knot is tied now. They are so content. They have children, too. Four of them. Young Edmund is a very bright boy and I think Jasper will be too.’

The Duke of Gloucester seemed to have forgotten the author in whom he was so interested.

‘So … you have accepted your … er … stepfather.’

‘Accepted him? Oh it was not a matter of accepting him. He exists. And he is a most interesting man. I was telling them about my coronation in France and how the people were … and he said that they love me here and that is important.’

‘It is indeed. But equally important that your French subjects should love you too.’

‘Owen said they never will do that. They see themselves as French and French they will remain. He says it is the same in a way with the Welsh. He is Welsh, you know.’

‘Your uncle Bedford never trusted the Welsh.’

‘Uncle Bedford never trusted anybody.’

‘It is often wise not to be too trustful.’

‘Owen says …’ Gloucester was not interested in what Owen said, but he was disturbed at how often the Welsh squire was creeping into the conversation.

Henry was clearly impressed by his stepfather.

‘I shall visit them again soon,’ he said. ‘I enjoyed being with them. My mother is so … young still. She has such a joyous laugh and Owen is interesting to talk to … and the children, they are amusing.’

The Duke of Gloucester was growing more and more thoughtful. ‘I should be wary of visiting them,’ he said.

Henry looked haughty. ‘I am the King,’ he said. ‘I shall do as I wish.’

Eleanor wanted to know what was on his mind.

‘Young Henry has been to Hadham and met his stepfather and his mother’s new family,’ he said.

‘Did the foolish woman really marry the Welsh squire?’

‘Whether she did or she didn’t she lives with him and has produced four children.’

Eleanor felt a sudden anger surge up in her. Four children! And she could not get even one!

‘That upsets you,’ she said tensely.

‘She can have fifty brats if she likes. What disturbs me is this pleasure the King takes in them. He says he is going to see them often and when I reminded him that that might be unwise he reminded me that he is the King.’

‘High and mighty, eh?’ said Eleanor. ‘The stripling is becoming a man. The King indeed! Well, he has it so frequently drummed into him that it is not surprising that he knows it now.’

‘He is obviously taken with the Welsh squire. It is Owen says this and Owen does that. By God’s ears, you would think Owen was the Pope himself.’

‘Obviously it must be shown that Owen is not the Pope. He is not even a Duke. He is just a Welsh squire who has managed by excessive good looks – I presume they are good looks – to creep into the Queen’s bed.’

‘They are a very happy couple, according to Henry,’ said Gloucester.

‘I am sure Owen is happy. Who would not be?’ She was serious suddenly. ‘What are you going to do about it?’

‘Do? What can I do?’

‘Well you are not going to allow Owen to become chief adviser to the King, are you? You are not going to bring his mother back into his life.’

‘They just want their life in the country.’

‘Nobody wants just their life in the country.’ Eleanor, with her overweening ambition, could not understand the lack of it in others; she was sure it existed and they pretended it did not in order to achieve it the more quickly.

‘I fancy they do.’

She ruffled his hair and kissed him on the lips. ‘You are a very romantic gentleman sometimes, dear husband.’

‘You see,’ he said, ‘the Queen is really simple at heart.’

‘Indeed. The Princess of France who married the King of England and dutifully produced the heir to the throne! She hated giving him up, did she not?’

‘He is her son.’

‘He is the King. No, I tell you Katherine is not so simple. She knows how to get what she wants. She fancies a country squire so she enters into an intrigue with him although she knows that the Council would never have allowed it. There is nothing simple about Katherine. And now when our dear little King goes to her he is shown the delights of domesticity. Dear Owen is so good to him. His mother loves him dearly. Why, Humphrey, what are you thinking of? They want to get the King in their grasp.’

He looked at her steadily. ‘And if so … what can I do about it?’

‘What can you do about it? You can act, Humphrey. That’s what you can do. Now there is a law that noble ladies like the Queen cannot marry without the consent of the Council. You brought in that law. Have you forgotten?’

‘It may be that they were married … before …’

‘Before or after, what matters it? It may be that they are not married at all. This is an illicit union and one in which the Queen cannot be allowed to indulge.’

‘What good would it do to break it up?’

‘Great good, Humphrey. Henry is growing up. Do you want him turning to anyone but you? His mother will have a great influence on him. She has already begun to. And our Welsh squire, his dear stepfather, will be advising him before long, when our Henry is a little more sure of himself – and he is fast becoming that. Were you not reminded, with a certain asperity I gather, that he was the King? Of course if you want to be ousted from your place as chief councillor by the Queen and her lover let well alone. Let Henry visit Hadham. Let them weave their spells around him. What does it matter if Humphrey of Gloucester be set aside for a frivolous Queen and a low-born squire.’

Eleanor certainly knew how to rouse her husband to action.

He said: ‘I could arrest the Tudor for breaking the law.’

She went to him and slipping her arm through his nestled against him.

‘There you speak more like the great Duke.’

She was smiling to herself. Their influence must be removed. Margery Jourdemayne seemed to be losing her touch. Although pins were inserted into the wax image of the King nothing had happened. He was still in good health.

‘It takes a long time with a King,’ Margery had explained.

Perhaps it did. But when one had great plans one did not want the loving eyes of a mother to see too much.

It should be an easier matter to remove the Tudor household from the sphere of influence than it was to bring a child into the world and drive a boy out of it.

The summer was passing but there were still pleasant days when one could sit in the garden. Katherine was nearing the end of her pregnancy. There was already a midwife in the house and she was expecting the child would be born any day now. Owen was beside her, taking great care of her. Edmund watched her wonderingly. He had been told that he might expect a new brother or sister. Jasper who was unusually advanced said that he wanted another sister and he would not accept another brother. He had two brothers already and he liked his sister Jacina best.