Owen (17 page)

‘We would be most grateful.’

I expect it will be a simple matter for Nathaniel to track down the requests for payment and, if necessary, I am prepared to raise it with the king. I hope the failure to pay for the education of my sons is not a sign of how King Henry views Edmund and Jasper.

‘I would like to see the boys now, if I may. I have travelled a long way.’

‘Of course. Please follow me, Master Tudor.’

She leads me out into the cloisters and through an arched doorway to an oak-panelled room, decorated with colourful pictures of saints and an overly realistic figure of Christ on the cross. Edmund and Jasper are waiting on a wooden pew and stand as they see me with the abbess.

They are both simply dressed in plain tunics. Now aged nine, Edmund is the tallest, with his mother’s bright-blue eyes and golden-blond hair. The nuns have cut their hair short, making them look more like page boys than step-brother’s to the king. I am struck by how my youngest son has changed since I last saw him. Jasper is eight years old now and has my dark eyes and black hair.

I walk up to them and embrace them both, surprised at the unexpected awkwardness I feel. I also hadn’t expected such a painful reminder of Catherine and feel a stab of regret that I didn’t try harder when she pleaded with me to bring them to her at Bermondsey Abbey.

‘Have you come for us, Father?’ Jasper stares up at me with enquiring eyes.

‘I must buy a new house before you can come home with me.’

‘Will it be in Wales?’ Once again it is Jasper who speaks.

‘Would you like that?’

‘Yes, Father.’

‘And how are you, Edmund?’ I turn to my eldest son.

‘You told us this would be... an adventure, Father.’ He glances at the abbess, who is listening to every word. ‘All we do is study—and pray you will come for us.’

‘I’m sorry it has been so long. I came here as soon as I could.’

‘We are not permitted to practise archery.’ Edmund glances again at the abbess. ‘The sisters say it is a distraction from our learning.’

The abbess turns to me. ‘They can read and write in French and Latin, as well as English.’ Her voice softens a little. ‘We are impressed with the progress your sons have made. They are excellent students.’

I look at their serious, pale faces and resolve to take them from here as soon as I am able to. ‘I am proud of you both—and I know your mother would be.’ I fight to control my emotions. ‘You know why your studies are so important?’

‘Because we are half-brothers to the king?’

‘That’s right, Edmund. If you do well, one day the king will make you both lords.’

‘Will we live in a castle?’

‘I am sure you will.’

Jasper smiles. ‘What is he like, our brother the king?’

‘He is more like your mother than his father.’ I did a quick calculation. ‘He must be seventeen now. He has no other family than you—and he was taken from his mother when he was about your age.’

‘If he is the king he should be allowed to do as he wishes?’

‘I agree, Jasper. The thing is... after his father died in France, he was put under the care of his uncle, until he came of age.’

The abbess steps forward and addresses the boys. ‘Your father must rest now. He has ridden a long way to see you.’

I take her cue. ‘The abbess is right. I will see you both again in the morning before I leave.’

As I make the long journey back to Windsor I look up at the warm sun and thank God for keeping my sons safe and well. I have much to be grateful for and my time in Newgate has made me more appreciative of even the most basic things in life, the freedom to walk in the sunshine, a clean bed and a jug of strong ale.

I am sure my sons are receiving an education that will stand them in good stead in the future. I recall how they stood straight and proud as I left the abbey, Edmund still a little reserved, like his mother, Jasper raising a hand and shouting I must return soon. I am fortunate they are in the care of Abbess Katherine, as I don’t like to think what could have become of my sons if they had remained with me.

As I see the huge round tower of Windsor Castle my thoughts turn to Juliette. It is as if she felt safer when there were iron bars between us, for now I am free it seems she ensures we are never alone together. Her manner towards me is a professional barrier as real as any prison bars. I had been disappointed when she wasn’t there to witness my release and was right to wonder if that meant she would not travel with me to Calais.

Now, as the date of my official audience with the king draws nearer, I decide there is much to be said for staying at court in Windsor after all. King Henry has no other family still living, so there is a chance he will look favourably on his half-brothers. He has known me since he was a boy, so even if his advisors tell him differently, there is hope those memories can enable Edmund and Jasper to have the future they deserve.

 
* * *

I wait in the royal apartments recalling the first time, seventeen years before, when I waited in these same rooms to meet Catherine. Now her eldest son is King of England and France. The fair-haired little boy who once played with wooden toy soldiers in this room now holds the future of my sons in his hands.

King Henry arrives, flanked as ever by his lords who act as court advisors. One will be Duke Humphrey’s man and another there to represent the interests of Cardinal Beaufort, although I recognise neither of them. I feel their judging eyes upon me but focus on the king. Henry has the pale, white skin of his mother and the only sign of his authority is a heavy gold chain around his neck with a gold cross ornamented with bright diamonds. He wears a simple velvet cap over his curly hair, now turned darker than I remember.

Looking again at Catherine’s eldest son is like seeing her shadow. He has her long, fair eyelashes but not her bright blue eyes. Instead, I find myself looking into the light hazel eyes of the late King Henry. He has Catherine’s delicate mouth but it seems too small in his Plantagenet face. I notice a gold ring, set with a large ruby, on the king’s left hand and recognise it as the one she sent him on the eve of his coronation in France. She said her late husband told her a ruby could safeguard against poison. I must remember one day to pass this knowledge on to the king, if the opportunity ever arises.

Henry takes his place on the raised, gilded chair that serves as a throne and watches as I walk forward to stand before him. I remove my cap and bow, before placing it back on my head.

‘It is good to see you again, Master Tudor.’

‘At your service, Your Highness.’

Henry glances to the advisors on either side. ‘I understand life has not been easy for you since my mother’s passing.’ His hand goes to the gold cross he wears, as if it offers him some comfort. ‘I remember your kindness, Master Tudor, and pardon you of any charges.’

At last I feel able to relax a little, for the first time since the arrival of the king. ‘Thank you, Your Highness.’

Henry gives an almost imperceptible nod of acknowledgement. ‘I welcome you to my household and have decided to grant you a pension from my privy purse.’

‘I am most grateful, Your Highness.’ I see the lack of surprise on the faces of the king’s advisors and realise why it has taken so long. This is not a spontaneous decision. Someone has encouraged the king’s generosity. I wonder who it could be and what their motive is, certain I will learn in due course.

‘You are welcome to remain here or travel to your homeland in Wales if you wish, Master Tudor.’

‘I would like to remain, at least until my sons are introduced at court, if it pleases Your Highness.’

‘I look forward to the return of my brothers.’ Henry smiles and I catch a glimpse of the boy I had known, Catherine’s son.

The fresh warmth of spring is a blessing after a hard winter. Everything has changed for me over the past two years. It has not been easy, yet I am back where I started, in my comfortable, low-ceilinged room at Windsor. Bright yellow daffodils from the castle gardens stand in a battered pewter jug on my table and a blackbird sings outside my open window, tunefully claiming its territory.

I wake early with a sense of anticipation, reach out and caress the sleeping figure at my side. She is the reason why I never travelled to Calais to seek my fortune. I have no regrets. The horrors of Newgate and my long imprisonment are now a fading memory but the experience taught me to appreciate the simple things in life. I am thankful and truly grateful for what I have.

Juliette wakes and takes my hand in hers. ‘I was dreaming about when we were here together for the first time... all those years ago.’

I trace the curve of her breast with my fingertip. ‘You seduced me.’

‘You led me on!’

‘Ah—but now I have the king’s pardon.’

‘That was for running off with his mother.’

I pull her closer and whisper. ‘You forgive me?’

She answers with a passionate kiss.

I brush her long auburn hair from her face, as I used to long ago. My own hair, once jet-black, is now peppered with grey. Hers is still a luminous reddish-brown in the morning sunlight and feels like silk to my touch. I thank God she has returned to me, after I treated her so badly. Sometimes it feels as if we have never been apart, yet the ghost of Catherine will always be there, even more so now my sons are coming to Windsor.

Juliette strokes the curls of greying hair on my chest. ‘It will be different when your sons are here.’

Not for the first time she seems to read my thoughts. ‘I will have to learn to be a father to them again.’

‘You never stopped being their father, Owen.’

I smile at the plain truth of her words. ‘You are right.’

‘You have to give them time... but they are young—and they are Tudors.’

I lie back on the bed and watch as Juliette sits and begins to plait her hair, combing out tangles with her fingers. I never tire of seeing how she tames the long strands into a perfect French braid, gathering handfuls from each side with practised ease as she works.

She coils her finished plait and tucks it into place. ‘What are you going to tell your sons about me—about us?’

‘The truth.’

‘Are they ready for the truth?’

‘Edmund is eleven now, so Jasper must be ten, old enough to understand.’

‘I hope they do.’ She finishes her hair and smoothes the creases from her dress, frowning as she sees the hem is fraying where it touches the ground. ‘The king has plans for them?’ It is not so much a question as a statement, with the faintest hint of jealousy.

I forgive Juliette’s unspoken resentment of the life I had with Catherine and understand why she must envy the apparent ease with which she gave me such fine sons. If Juliette chose to never speak to me again it would only be what I deserve.

‘As you know, they will have titles.’ I smile. ‘Then you can help me find good wives for them both.’

‘You must make sure they have a proper education. I met the priest who is to be their new tutor.’ Juliette grimaces. ‘He seems a little... dour.’

‘He is the king’s choice—I want them to learn about the real world. They have spent too long in a nunnery.’

‘The king has become very devout. He is one of the richest men in the world, yet he spends so much time in that cold chapel. The other day he knelt in prayer for so long he needed help to stand.’

‘It suits Duke Humphrey and Cardinal Beaufort if the king takes more interest in his faith than matters of council. They became too well used to the taste of power when he was in his minority to wish to surrender it now.’

‘You must teach your sons to be wary of men like the cardinal and Duke Humphrey.’

‘I would be living in Wales now if not for them.’

‘Do you regret that, Owen?’

‘I did once, when I was locked up. Now I have no regrets.’

‘If Duke Humphrey hadn’t brought you back, I don’t know if I would have ever been able to find you in Wales.’ She pulls her dress over her cotton shift and turns so I can help her fasten the bodice. ‘Now the duke has no power at court. After what happened to his wife, Duchess Eleanor, I doubt he will trouble you again.’

‘Whatever became of the duchess?’

I recall the first time I saw her, at the royal summer banquet at Wallingford Castle. Beautiful and mysterious, she seemed an odd match for the ambitious duke, more like his mistress than his wife. Lady Eleanor had been the centre of attention, but she smiled when she noticed me staring at her.

‘She’s plain Eleanor Cobham now. You know the duke agreed to dissolve their marriage in the hope of saving his reputation?’ Juliette puts her hand into one of the long sleeves of her dress and pulls it up her arm. ‘Well, Eleanor is imprisoned for life at Leeds Castle.’

‘And the duke is now a shadow of the man he once was. His wife is lucky to be a favourite of the king. Henry Beaufort would have burned her as a witch if he could.’ I help tie Juliette’s sleeve in place and tuck the loose ends of thin silk ribbon from view. I like the simple intimacy of helping her to dress and she can’t do it on her own.

‘There are worse places to be imprisoned than Leeds Castle. I stayed there once, with Catherine.’ She pulls on the second sleeve. ‘King Henry V granted it to her as a present. It is a beautiful palace.’

Once again Catherine’s ghost comes between us, as surely as if she lives and breathes, and I can see in Juliette’s eyes that she knows I am thinking of her now. Juliette is right, as it will be difficult for us to live like this when my sons come to Windsor. I lace the second sleeve to Juliette’s bodice and tie the loose ends.

Last of all is the high hennin headdress, wire mesh covered with white fabric, and a cloth lappet which covers her brow. Juliette fixes the fabric to her coiled braid with silver pins and the transformation of my lover to the king’s prim housekeeper is complete.

 
* * *

The abbess and sisters look saddened to see Edmund and Jasper leave Barking Abbey. At least the money owed for the care of my sons, now totalling over a hundred pounds, will be paid to the abbey from the Exchequer. It was necessary for me to carry out my threat to bring the debt to the attention of the king before the officials agreed to settle the account. Their deliberate oversight is a timely reminder that, despite my royal pardon, I still have enemies and I worry my insistence serves to provoke them further.
  

It takes little time to pack the boy’s few belongings and I am keen to be back on the road as soon as we can. Edmund and Jasper are unused to riding any distance and soon grow tired, so it is necessary to make several stops to allow them to rest along the way. I share my leather flask of ale when they grow thirsty and begin to know them both again.

Edmund is full of questions when we arrive at Windsor Castle. ‘Where will we live, Father?’

‘In the Upper Ward lodgings, which were built by King Edward III.’ I point ahead. ‘You have better rooms than at the abbey. Better even than me—the king has ordered it.’

‘When will we see the king?’

‘He is still in Westminster Palace, which is why he isn’t able to welcome you today. I thought it best for you to have a chance to settle in to your new lodgings before he returns to Windsor.’

I personally arranged the preparation of their rooms, even securing consent of the king to have some of his collection of priceless tapestries to decorate the walls. The king would have wished them to have religious themes but I selected scenes of mounted knights hunting stags in exotic forests. Good oak-framed beds with new feather mattresses and wool blankets are now installed in what was once a dining-room and tall windows flood the place with light. I watch as my sons stand wide-eyed, taking it all in.

Edmund is a head taller than Jasper and his blue eyes miss nothing, his quick mind storing every detail for future use. Jasper is more like I remember being at the same age. Dark eyes peer out from unruly black hair. Where Edmund has the natural bearing of a young noble, Jasper could pass as a street urchin, if it were not for his smart new clothes, provided from the king’s own purse.

I have been looking forward to their arrival in Windsor for many months and saved my pension to buy them each a present. I open a wooden chest and take out their gifts. Wrapped in dark velvet, each has cost me a small fortune. I hand one to Edmund and the other to Jasper, then stand back as they unwrap the covering to reveal finely crafted daggers on tooled black leather belts with silver buckles.

Edmund straps the belt round his waist and draws the dagger, which slides cleanly from its scabbard. Sunlight from the window flashes from the polished blade as he holds it up to inspect the sharpness of the edge.
‘Thank you, Father. This is the finest knife I’ve ever seen.’

‘Your mother gave me one like it once. The blade is German steel and holds its sharpness well.’

Jasper tries on his belt and finds it hangs a little low on his slim waist. ‘I think I need you to make another hole for the buckle, Father?’

‘It’s supposed to be low, as that’s how men wear them now.’ I laugh as Jasper tries walking with the belt hanging around his middle. ‘You’ll soon grow once you start eating the food from the kitchens here.’

Jasper takes his own dagger from its scabbard. ‘It has a bird on the handle.’ He sounds disappointed.

‘That’s a martlet. It’s my badge.’

Jasper studies it more closely. ‘What does it mean, Father?’

‘You see—the martlet has no legs, so never rests. It’s the symbol of our
quest for knowledge and adventure.’ I ruffle Jasper’s dark hair. ‘We Tudors have to make our own way in the world, as we inherit nothing—and you, Jasper, as the second son, have to work extra hard.’

Jasper looks serious. ‘I work hard. The sisters said I was one of the best students they ever had.’

I
hear an echo of my own youthful boasting in his young voice. ‘Good. I am proud of you.’ I glance at Edmund. ‘I am truly proud of you both. You have a lot more learning to do here—and I don’t just mean from your tutors. I doubt the sisters taught you how to conduct yourself at court?’

‘No, Father—and can we practice with the longbow again, like we did at Hatfield House?’

‘You remember?’ I am pleased, as I’d thought them both too young to remember much of their happier times together. ‘I will buy you both new bows—and if you do well, a sword.’

Edmund is pleased. ‘I wish to learn to joust as well. I must learn to fight like a knight.’

‘All in good time, Edmund. First we must discuss how you will behave in the presence of the king.’

‘How should we address the king, Father?’

‘Your Highness.’ I demonstrate how to bow, flamboyantly removing my hat. ‘Although that is for when his advisors are around. You are his half-brothers, after all.’

‘Why does he need so many advisors?’

‘King Henry is young and there are so many decisions to be made.’

Jasper has practical concerns. ‘What if he doesn’t like us?’

‘He will. You are the only family he has now—and you share many of the qualities of your mother. I have known the king since he was a baby. He is a good man and will treat you well.’

‘Does he ride—and fight with a sword?’

‘He had the finest teacher in the country.’ I recall Sir Richard’s patient tutoring. ‘He likes to pray and read the scriptures, so remember to show the king your faith is important to you. I will arrange a service of thanksgiving in the chapel, to mark your safe arrival. He will like that. Then we will have a royal banquet in your honour.’

Several days pass before the king returns to Windsor, escorted by the royal guards and followed by his retinue of over a hundred riders and wagons. The king needs to rest after the journey from London, so it is not until mid-morning on the following day that he is ready to meet his half-brothers and orders them to be brought to him. I introduce Edmund and Jasper, who take off their caps and bow to their older brother as rehearsed.

Henry studies them. ‘The abbess reported that you are most diligent students. You are a credit to our mother, may God rest her soul.’

Edmund steps forward. ‘Thank you, Your Highness, for taking us into your household.’