Owen (16 page)

Juliette must have an important position in the king’s household, as she no longer dresses as a maid and has the confidence that comes with authority. I remember how surprised I’d been when she was chosen to remain in the young king’s household. Now I realise Juliette would be the perfect spy for Duke Humphrey. With her privileged access she can tell him all he needs to know about the king and his visitors.

I sleep fitfully that night, dreaming about how Juliette reached out and touched my hand with the easy familiarity of a lover. Something was rekindled in me at that moment. I dream how different my life would be if Juliette had stayed with Catherine. I might have expected awkwardness between us, even bitterness after everything that happened, yet it is as if we have never been parted.

On her second visit she brings the promised parcel of clothes. ‘You must forgive people for treating you as a criminal while you have the appearance of one.’

 
‘All my other clothes were lost when I was arrested—as well as everything I owned.’ I shrug. ‘All I have is the shirt on my back.’

‘As you did when you first came to the royal household.’

‘You are right—except for something which is very precious to me.’ I reach inside my doublet and unfold the square of yellowing cloth to show her the embroidered red dragon.

‘My God... you kept it, all these years!’

‘I consider it my good luck charm.’ I grin at my own joke.

Juliette wipes a tear from her eye. ‘I worried the other maids would see me sewing and guess who it was for.’

‘Well, now it is all I have.’ I see she still has tears in her eyes. ‘It may not have brought much luck but you should know it has been a comfort to me.’

She doesn’t answer but hands the folded clothes through the bars. A clean linen shirt, a dark wool doublet, a pair of breeches and a good leather belt with a brass buckle. I thank her and turn my back while I strip off the old clothing I have worn for so long. The new clothes fit surprisingly well and make me feel human again.

Juliette has regained her professional composure while she waits for me to change my clothes, and I realise I must do the same. ‘How can I arrange an audience with the king?’

She seems uncertain. ‘The king is surrounded by his advisors at all times. After what happened to Sir Walter...’

‘I wouldn’t ask you to speak on my behalf—but I worry about the health of my companions in Newgate.’ I look into her eyes. ‘You remember Nathaniel?’

‘Of course. I liked Nathaniel.’ Her voice sounds sad. ‘I hate to think of him wrongly imprisoned.’

 
‘He is being cared for by a friend, a Welsh clergyman named Thomas Lewis, although I fear they will both die if they remain there any longer, Juliette.’

‘Do you think the king would order their release?’

‘If I can see the king he will pardon us all, God willing.’

Juliette understands. ‘You will need the support of Edmund Beaufort before you see the king.’

‘What is he like these days?’

‘Well, he is married—to Lady Eleanor Beauchamp, a rich widow. They say her late husband, Baron de Ros, was thrown into the Seine and drowned. Lady Eleanor has his fortune, until his son comes of age. She seems to have failed to tame Edmund Beaufort though.’

‘He still has an eye for the ladies?’

‘Several of the maids have already complained to me, although I fail to see what I can do other than caution them to take care.’ She brightens as an idea occurs to her. ‘I could find an opportunity to ask Sir Edmund to come and see you?’

‘I should ask the guard commander first, Juliette. You have done enough for me already.’ I don’t like to think of the consequences of her asking favours of Sir Edmund Beaufort.

‘At least you look a little more presentable now.’ She raises a hand in a wave as she leaves.

I feel a tingle of pleasure at her parting compliment and suspect that the barber who visited to trim my hair and beard had also been sent at Juliette’s instigation. Pride prevents me from asking her, although she said it is a good improvement.

Edmund Beaufort is quite different from the young noble I knew all those years ago. Now he is wealthy and wears the sword and gold-braided uniform of a commander of the king’s army. His successes in France have given him a soldier’s swagger and he sounds a little arrogant.

‘I didn’t like what you did, Tudor.’ Sir Edmund looks at me as if I am a strange creature washed up on the foreshore. ‘Queen Catherine deserved better.’

I know what I must do. ‘She always held you in great esteem, my lord.
 
She named our first son Edmund in your memory.’

He seems surprised and his attitude changes. ‘I was sorry to hear of her passing. Did she suffer?’

‘It was mercifully swift, thank God.’ I force the truth from my mind as there is no need for Edmund Beaufort to be told.

‘It may comfort you to know your sons are both well.’

‘Have you seen them?’

‘No—but the king has regular reports from the Abbess of Barking.’

‘Thank you, my lord. Do you know if the king recognises them as his half-brothers?’

‘He does. I expect he will find a title for them when they are of age.’

‘I should like to see them—but not before my situation is... improved.’

‘I know you want to see the king, Tudor, to plead for your freedom.’ He shakes his head. ‘And I know you are concerned about your friends in Newgate. You could be useful to me. A loyal servant is hard to find. I am prepared to order your companions to be released—but I must ask something of you in return.’

I am relieved and concerned in equal measure. ‘What can I do for you, my lord?’

‘My uncle,’ Edmund glances behind to see the guards are not listening. ‘Cardinal Beaufort has taken some satisfaction from the way you outsmarted Duke Humphrey—but he warned me not to let you out of here too soon.’

‘Why?’

‘It’s all a matter of timing, Tudor. You are here as a punishment. If I had ended the siege of Calais earlier, they would all have thought it an easy victory.’

I recall hearing how Edmund Beaufort relieved the Burgundian siege of Calais before Duke Humphrey arrived with his army. The victory marked the start of the duke’s declining reputation and boosted the Beaufort cause. ‘How long must I wait, my lord?’ It is becoming harder to show respect, but I know I must.

‘I need you to promise not to try to see the king until I say you can,’ he looks around the cell with distaste, ‘and also not to escape from this place.’

* * *

I turn over the letter in my hand and read it a second time, feeling elated and saddened. It has been delivered to me unsealed and the hand is neat but unfamiliar to me. More a note than a letter, it seems to have been written with the expectation it would be read by my gaolers. Thomas and Nathaniel have been released from Newgate and are now in the infirmary at Bermondsey Abbey. Then I notice the letter is signed, so discreetly I had overlooked it at my first reading. There at the bottom, after the words
God be with you
, is a letter B, written in a less skilled hand. Briony is taking care of my friends and I smile with relief that Edmund Beaufort has kept his promise.

The sparse words of the note bring painful memories. I remember the despair on Briony’s face and how helpless I felt when Catherine lay dying in the same infirmary, begging me to bring her sons to her. I picture Nathaniel in Newgate Gaol, his body shaking with the fever and am glad I was able to help him. My mind is full of questions. I have been spared—but for what purpose? How could a merciful God punish good men so cruelly?

If I had known I would remain imprisoned for so long I doubt I would have so easily agreed to Edmund Beaufort’s deal. Juliette visits as often as she can, bringing news of the world outside and helping keep my spirits up. The release of Nathaniel and Thomas gives me hope and within two months Nathaniel is sufficiently recovered from the sickness to visit me in Windsor.

Nathaniel seems like his old self again, having trimmed his untidy beard and put on weight from eating decent food. Although dressed in a cheap woollen smock and a floppy hat that makes him look like a farmer, he has a new dagger at his belt, a sparkle back in his eyes and a broad grin.

I clasp his hand through the bars. ‘I feared Newgate would be the end of you, Nathaniel.’

‘I know what you did for us... and will always be in your debt.’

‘You owe me nothing. I am glad to see you again after so long. How is Thomas?’

‘He wanted to travel with me to see you, but is still weak from his illness. He busies himself helping Briony in the infirmary and plans to return to Wales when he is well enough.’ He smiles. ‘I think he might even take Briony with him.’

‘And what are your plans, Nathaniel?’

‘To find a way to have you released from here, for a start. You know no proper charges were ever brought against you?’

‘They have forgotten about me.’

‘You are not forgotten, Owen.’

‘Then why don’t they charge me—or let me go?’

‘I suspect that Cardinal Beaufort is deliberately preventing the council from discussing your case.’

‘Why would he do that?’

‘He opposes anything the Duke of Gloucester wants. I fear you are simply caught up in their squabbles.’ Nathaniel shrugs his shoulders. ‘All I can do is make enquiries with the clerks who understand the legal process. There must be a way—there always is.’

‘I appreciate your help, Nathaniel. I was starting to wonder if I will be imprisoned in this place forever.’

Nathaniel turns as he is about to leave. ‘Is there anything I can get you, Owen?’

‘There is. I don’t expect I’ll ever see any of my property again but I would like my papers returned, if they haven’t been burned. I may need to prove I have the rights of an Englishman!’

After Nathaniel leaves I feel new hope. I begin exercising in my cell for long hours and am relieved to see how soon my muscles regain their firmness. I also secure permission from Sir Edmund to walk within the courtyard in front of the chapel. My bored guards become complacent as they watch but I honour my promise to Edmund Beaufort. I fear that even if I could escape, the duke’s men would hunt me down. I will never again do anything that could see me returned to the horrors of Newgate Gaol.

King Henry often visits the chapel, spending long hours in prayer when he stays at Windsor, so it is not long before I see the king’s retinue emerging from the entrance. It would have been easy for me to create a disturbance and bring my plight to the king’s attention but instead I allow my guards to escort me from royal view.

Sir Edmund seems to appreciate this and a simple bond begins to develop between us. He becomes more talkative on his occasional visits, sometimes sharing news of the king and parliament. Sir Edmund is scathing about the claims of Richard, Duke of York, and open about his distrust of Duke Humphrey. At the same time, he speaks frankly about my future.

‘The king will see your sons are looked after, but you must understand, Tudor, you are an embarrassment at court.’

I have heard it before. ‘I tried to go to the furthest coast of Wales—twice.’ I shake my head as I remember. ‘Both times I was dragged back to London by Duke Humphrey’s men.’

‘What do you intend to do in Wales?’

‘There is a castle in Beaumaris, close to the village where I was born. I hope to find a position under the constable there, Sir William Bulkeley.’

‘I may be able to put a word in for you, Tudor—but perhaps you would do better with the Merchants of the Staple?’

‘In Calais?’

‘Why not? There is always need there for men with your... resourcefulness.’

‘I will think on it, my lord.’

After Edmund Beaufort leaves I reflect on my future. If they want me out of the way I might be able to turn that to my advantage. It could take a long time before I can save enough to buy a house fit for my sons to return to, so I need money. Catherine’s estates and fortune all reverted to the Crown on her death and any money I accumulated over the years has now been spent or confiscated.

I don’t share Nathaniel’s hope it will ever be returned, so I will have to find any work I can and buy a passage to Calais to seek my fortune there. Sir Edmund told me there are always ships in the busy harbour, laden with bales of wool and returning with goods from all over the continent. On Juliette’s next visit I explain my plan. If I can persuade Nathaniel to accompany me, we could perhaps find work with the men of the Staple, who have a monopoly on the trade and act as agents for the wealthy wool merchants in London.

Juliette contemplates my idea for a moment. ‘Calais is a long way from here.’

I hear a hint of sadness in her voice. I have had plenty of time to think about what I want from the future. I am close to forty years old now and have learnt not to regret mistakes made in the past. I must take my chances while I can or live with the consequences.

‘Would you consider coming with me?’

She hesitates before answering. ‘I used to dream about one day returning to France. I will consider it.’

‘That is all I can ask.’

‘And that is all I can promise.’ She glances back to where the guard could be listening and lowers her voice almost to a whisper. ‘You hurt me once, Owen. I don’t know if I could go through that again.’

I am so preoccupied with my own situation it comes as something of a shock to realise how difficult it must have been for her when I vanished with Catherine. I never wrote to her after we arrived at Wallingford Castle. Even when I visited Windsor I only met her by chance.

‘I’m... sorry, Juliette.’ I struggle to find the right words. ‘I hope whatever the future holds for me, it can include you.’

She studies me without speaking for a moment. ‘I have always loved you, Owen.’ She leaves without looking back, her words hanging in the air like a whispered prayer.

* * *

When Nathaniel eventually returns he seems pleased with himself and is wearing a smart velvet doublet and breeches and a hat with a colourful jay feather. The guards allow him to bring a letter, quill and ink.

‘Did you know Juliette is the king’s housekeeper? She has helped me secure a position, much like that I held years ago, keeping tallies of the king’s supplies.’ He smiles. ‘I have a little money again and will be able to visit you more easily.’

‘That’s good news.’ I glance at the letter. ‘What have you brought me?’

Nathaniel hands the letter through the bars. ‘I drafted this authority for me to act on your behalf, as your agent. It needs your signature.’

I take the quill and uncork the flask of ink, then sign my name. It is the first time I’ve needed to do so for a long time.
 
‘I doubt you will be able to recover any of my property, as it will be long gone now, but we have nothing to lose by trying.’

‘I consulted with a lawyer friend. I was correct in thinking there have never been formal charges against you, so you are only on a holding order from the council. That means you can’t apply for bail—but you could be released on a mainprise, an agreed sum of surety.’

‘I have no money, Nathaniel. Not a single groat.’

‘I’ve thought of that. The application would be considered by the Sheriff of Berkshire, Sir Walter Sculle. The granting of a mainprise is at his discretion—and he can require whatever conditions he pleases.’

‘I wish I felt able to share your optimism.’

‘The sheriff is a fellow countryman of yours, from the town of Brecon—and also the King’s Attorney in the Welsh courts. I am hopeful he will be sympathetic to your case.’

‘You’ve been busy on my behalf. I promised Edmund Beaufort I would not try to escape or ask to see the king. I will ask Beaufort to agree your plan, Nathaniel. It could offer him a face-saving way forward and remind him that he has yet to honour his promise to me.’

Edmund Beaufort seems relieved to have a solution and agrees to release me in the middle of July. Juliette is nowhere to be seen but Nathaniel is waiting for me as I emerge into the bright summer sunshine a free man, almost one year after I arrived at Windsor Castle. I feel as if a huge weight has been lifted from me and embrace him warmly.

‘I don’t know how you did it, Nathaniel.’

‘I told you there must be a way. I arranged a surety of two thousand pounds with the Sheriff and I was right—he is appalled at the way you have been treated.’

‘Two thousand pounds is a fortune. I will never be able to pay it!’

‘That is the point, Owen, you should never have to. I conveyed your promise to the sheriff that you will appear before the king as commanded. A date has been set for the eleventh of November.’

‘Why so long?’

‘It is the best I could do.’

‘Thank you, Nathaniel. I don’t know how I can repay you.’

‘I have thought of a way. You will work for me while you wait. I need to keep an eye on you—and you can help me with keeping records of the household accounts.’

I laugh at how our roles are now reversed. ‘A fair price.’ A thought occurs to me. ‘Will I be allowed to visit my sons at Barking?’

‘You can. You are a free man, Owen.’

Barking Abbey is some sixty miles east of Windsor on the other side of London. I arrive in late summer sunshine on a borrowed horse, wearing new riding clothes paid for from the first wages I have earned since my days at Wallingford Castle. I know little of the abbey, other than it had once been the wealthiest nunnery in England before its lands were inundated by flooding from the Thames.

I am greeted by impassive nuns, who direct me to the abbey stables then lead me to the office of the abbess, Katherine de la Pole. The abbess is the sister of the Earl of Suffolk, William de la Pole, and a favourite of the king. She dresses simply, with black robes and white linen headdress of the Benedictine order, making it hard to judge her age.

Her room is sparsely furnished, with clean rushes on the floor and a scrubbed oak table, in front of which are two wooden chairs. The walls are recently whitewashed and the sun streams through the leaded-glass window onto a painting of a serene Madonna, dressed in faded azure robes.

‘Welcome, Master Tudor.’ Her sharp eyes study my face as if trying to read my thoughts. ‘Have you come to take your sons from the abbey?’

I hear a trace of concern in her voice. ‘No, I simply wish to see them.’ I chose my words with care. ‘I have been... unable to for two years, Your Grace.’

‘You will see them soon—but first we need to talk.’

‘Something is wrong?’

‘Your sons are doing well.’ She smiles. ‘They make good progress with their studies.’

‘They were told about their mother?’

‘Yes, may God be with her. We were sorry to hear of her passing. It was decided they were too young to attend her funeral.’

‘What have they been told about me?’

‘They often ask after you, Master Tudor. The sisters tell them you are in the service of the king.’

‘Thank you, Your Grace. I am grateful for that kindness. What is it you wish to discuss before I see my sons?’

The abbess clasps her hands together and hesitates before answering. ‘I regret to say... the costs of keeping your sons here have not been met for almost a year now.’

I am relieved it is not something more serious. ‘I was not aware of this—how much is due to the abbey?’

‘The amount is over fifty pounds.’ The abbess leans forward in her chair. ‘Since the floods the income from the abbey lands has fallen to almost nothing. As well as the costs of food and clothing, we were told to provide your sons with servants.’

‘I will do what I can to see that you are paid in full.’