Queen by Right (62 page)

Cecily ran her hand under his nightshirt and caressed his thigh. “I know not, Richard, but when we are together like this, I feel no older than the first time we pleasured each other. Come,” she said huskily, “let us forget family feuding for a few precious hours.”

D
ESPITE THE INABILITY
of the council to bring Somerset to trial on the prescribed date in October, the York family was in a merry mood at Hunsdon a few days after celebrating the birth of the Savior. Even Anne had come out of her melancholy following the safe delivery of her daughter in the summer and estrangement from Exeter. Cecily was pleased to see her dancing with Ned, who had become his sister’s protector once he had left Ludlow and joined his father’s household. Cecily had not hidden Anne’s troubles from her son, and she discovered that he had also formed an intense dislike of Exeter from his father’s accounts of the man’s actions in the north. Ned’s childhood over, Richard had taken charge of his further education by taking his son to London and acquainting him with those clergy and nobles who made up the council.

“The earl of March has a way with women,” Constance whispered to Cecily as they watched the young people go through the paces of a country dance. Cecily had decided a while ago that Ned danced with the precision of a soldier; his style was perfunctory but not without a certain manly charm. “Perhaps he was permitted to read too many romances with his tutor, Master Croft?” Constance added and smiled to herself when she saw Cecily frown. “I am but teasing you, madame. It is just that he is so very handsome, and look at the way he makes even his sister blush and smile.”

Cecily decided that she would have a word with Richard about his eldest son’s pursuit of the ladies and turned her attention to Edmund, who was gallantly partnering Bess. Now there is a natural-born dancer, she thought, her heart melting as it did every time she studied him. He was not as handsome as his brothers Edward and George, but he had a gentle grace about him. Although he never wavered in his partnering, his eyes had a faraway look as he listened to the lute and recorders strumming and piping the rhythm. Cecily hoped he would gain strength of purpose, for gentleness and grace would not be appreciated by his peers, she knew.

Bess, like Edward, was mentally counting the beats, unlike George and Meggie, who could barely contain their pleasure in the dance. Cecily could see Bess’s heart was not in it. ’Tis time we found her a permanent partner, Cecily thought. True, she is only ten, but by now she should know what her future will be after the time she will spend with her Aunt Alice learning to be a lady. It will be hard to let her go, Cecily mused, but Bess was more than ready to turn the corner on childhood.

She mentally scrolled down the list of eligible young lords for her daughter, but unhappily many of them were already contracted or vehement adherents of the Lancaster court. Richard had still not won everyone to his side during these months of his protectorate, and indeed she had been shocked to find out how many councillors had pleaded ill health to avoid many of the meetings. Their absence meant that nothing of note could be accomplished, making Richard look indecisive at best and incompetent at worst. It was unfair to judge him in such a short period, she grumbled to herself, and under such adverse conditions. With Exeter in prison and Egremont captured in a fierce skirmish at Stamford Bridge, the fighting in the north had subsided, and Nevilles and Percys had gone home, thanks to Richard. However, the seeds of hatred had been sown between the two powerful landowners of the north, which would add to Richard’s worry. He was learning that doing his duty was fraught with danger, and Cecily was often left with only prayer to sustain her while he held the kingdom’s reins.

Without warning, the object of her thoughts came striding into the room, causing the musicians to halt, his children to fall to their knees, and Cecily to rise and go to him anxiously. “What is it, my lord? Your face is paler than ewe’s milk.”

“There is astonishing news, my lady. I suppose I should be glad of it, but it has come as a shock and I was not prepared.” He paused before unleashing the thunderbolt. “The king has recovered his senses.”

All gasped and crossed themselves, but little Dickon toddled up to Ned’s side and took his hand at Richard’s entrance, his face a picture of delight. “Papa,” he babbled repeatedly, pointing at Richard and tugging at Ned. “Mama, Papa.”

Richard’s face softened into a smile, and he picked up his youngest son and tossed him in the air. “Aye, Dickon, your father and mother are here. We will always be here for you.” His eyes embraced the other eager faces as he repeated, “We shall always be here for you.” The children rose in unison and once again Cecily rejoiced to see Richard’s daughters put their arms about
their father. They gave him such joy, she knew, as she stood proudly watching the familial scene. Standing in his family’s midst, Richard looked at each face in turn as if to take a picture of them with him when he had to leave them again.

“Children,” he said, putting Dickon down, his tone turning suddenly serious. “Look around you and take note of your family. Never forget your blood kin, do you hear? The most important people in your lives are right here in this room—not forgetting all those who loyally serve the house of York. Do you understand?” He looked at all his offspring in turn, waiting for a nod of acknowledgment from each. “But hear this. We are also all liegemen of our sovereign King Henry. Let it never be said that York did not serve the king and his country. I beg of you, whatever you may do in your lives, be loyal to your family, loyal to our house, and loyal to your king.”

Silence followed this speech. The children stared up at their father and Dickon hid behind Cecily’s skirt. Cecily held back tears. What portent had Richard had to cause him to deliver such heady words? She found herself trembling. But then she remembered the reason for Richard’s return.

“The king! God be praised for his recovery,” Cecily said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. “We must give thanks immediately. Gresilde, go and find Father Lessey. He must prepare a special mass within the hour.” Let it not be said the duke of York did not give thanks for our sovereign’s renewed health, she told herself.

As Nurse Anne carried Dickon back to the nursery, the other children stood in a line in silence while the duke and duchess awaited the summons to the chapel.

“What will happen now?” Cecily asked Richard quietly.

“I will tell you what will happen, my dear. Henry will free Somerset, and the queen and her favorite will poison the king against me. I fear the dreadful cycle will begin anew and we shall again be unwelcome at court.”

Cecily gripped his hand within the folds of his long, woolen robe so that the children could not see and whispered, “You have more support now, my love, and I think perhaps you may be wrong. You might have snatched the opportunity to take the crown these past nine months, but you have remained true to your oath of allegiance to Henry and to his son. Surely the king will be grateful for your good leadership and want to keep you by his side.”

Richard’s face was grim. “Not when Margaret of Anjou hates me, Cis. ’Tis as simple as that.”

Cecily understood that nothing she said would rouse Richard from his dejection, so she decided to wait for a happier moment to tell him she was again with child.

A
LL THAT RICHARD
feared in December had come to pass by March, and when the Great Council at Greenwich sanctioned Somerset’s release from the Tower, Richard was forced to resign his offices, captaincy of Calais and Protector. The king had also pardoned Exeter; however, the duke failed to attempt a reunion with his wife and infant daughter. Two days following Richard’s resignation, Salisbury was forced to resign as Chancellor. Somerset’s star was ascendant once again.

After Easter, Richard and Salisbury took their families and retinues back to safe havens in the north. Richard went to Sandal Castle in the south of Yorkshire, and Salisbury saw his family back to his stronghold at Middleham in the dales, taking young Bess with him. Then he and a large retinue joined Richard at well-fortified Sandal to plan their next move. A bond had been forged between the two ousted noblemen, and it was not long before Salisbury’s powerful son Warwick, whose lands in the south were still being contested by Somerset and other lands in Wales by the king’s Tudor half brothers, Jasper and Edmund, took York’s side.

On a bright spring day, the two Richards went to find Cecily, now in the last term of her pregnancy. Richard of York stood facing his wife, while Salisbury took the chair offered and sat contemplating his fingernails.

Richard was bristling with anger. “Somerset has called for a Great Council at Leicester, and Bourchier writes the measle intends to lay out the form of government with him at its head so that he will control the king should he be stricken again. Curse the man! We had no knowledge of that meeting, but we have been summoned to Leicester to profess our fealty to the king. Again! As if I have not sufficiently proved my loyalty to Henry. ’Tis evident, Somerset is determined to keep me from ever having power again, but by Christ’s nails, I will be damned in hell before I capitulate to that traitorous whoreson of a bitch!” he cried, his indignation echoing in his jutting chin and clenched jaw.

“My lord! I pray you, remember we are not alone,” Cecily exclaimed, glancing at Constance and Gresilde, who pretended they had not heard.

But Richard was so filled with outrage that he hardly heard his wife’s admonishment. “We are saddled with a king who is fit only for incarceration in
Bethlehem hospital or, if I am kind, a monastery, and a queen who is . . . who is . . .” He snapped his fingers in rapid succession, searching for exactly the right word for the woman he was beginning to understand was his real enemy. “A she-wolf!” he cried triumphantly.

“An apt description, York, if I may say,” Salisbury agreed grimly. “She has become a dangerous adversary, especially now that Somerset is at her beck and call again. Who would have thought that sweet, homesick girl would turn out to be such a termagant. But,” he added with a derisive snort, “what can you expect from a Frenchwoman.”

“Brother, I beg of you!” Cecily cried, nodding in Constance’s direction. “I would trust Doctor LeMaître and Nurse Anne with my life, but . . .”

“But they are Normans, Cecily,” Salisbury retorted. “One can hardly call them French,
n’est-ce pas, mon docteur,
” he apologized, as Constance looked up, more amused than offended.

“Pah!” Cecily rejoined.

“Enough, both of you,” Richard of York interrupted. “This is hardly a time to discuss the nuances of being French. We must stop Somerset’s bid to control the king and the council. God’s bones, how I wish I had had enough foresight and support while I was Protector to have put a policy in place to fall back on should the king become ill again. What do you propose we do now?”

The earl shrugged. “I respectfully leave that to you, my dear brother, but I am with you whatever you decide.”

Cecily grimaced inwardly, her brother’s indecision disappointing her again.

“Perhaps we should make an appeal to the king, swearing fealty but demanding that Somerset be tried as was decided last year,” Richard suggested. “What think you?”

Oh, no, Cecily wanted to shout, not again. Petitions have not had any effect upon the king before, so why should one today, and it was the king who had released Somerset from the Tower. She looked from one to the other and once again cursed that she was not a man.

Maybe it was the two pairs of eyes boring into him, or perhaps that he sensed his sister was disappointed in him, but Richard Neville finally spoke his mind. He was now as angry as York and knew they could not afford to waste any more time. “Why not muster a force here and march south?” he said slowly but with conviction. “We will not seek battle but inform the king we must protect ourselves from our enemies at court and let him know they are his enemies too, and that this is in the realm’s best interest. Let us gather our
northern retainers, summon Warwick with his, and you send to Ludlow for March to come with a body also.”

Ned lead an army? Cecily gasped, swallowing her disbelief. But when she saw Richard nod, she burst out, “He is but twelve, my lord!”

Richard waved her objection aside. “Almost thirteen, my dear. I shall see to it he is well protected. I shall send Piers Taggett to alert him. We are not going south to do battle, my dear, simply to parley. Ned will only be the figurehead for our Welshmen to follow.” He turned to Salisbury. “I am pleased we see eye to eye, Brother, for your plan accords with my own thoughts.”

Cecily had had enough talk of armies. “I pray you, my lords, leave me in peace with my companions while you go and talk mustering matters. But hear me well,” Cecily counseled, “if I were the king and I saw a group of thousands led by three disgruntled noblemen advancing upon my capital, I would not think they had merely come to parley.”

Salisbury rose and joined Richard at the door. “Cecily has a point, as she usually does,” he said, giving his sister a weak smile.

“Perhaps,” Richard acknowledged, exiting with grim purpose, “but I have no mind to beat about the bush this time, Neville. The king must know we are serious.”

“Sorry, Sister. Your husband seems to have made up his mind,” Salisbury said, shrugging when Richard was out of earshot. Then his eyes twinkled. “And to think Alice believes you lead him by the nose.”

He scooted out, and the cushion Cecily angrily launched at him hit the closed door. It did not help dispel the apprehension that was knotting her stomach.

I
GNORING THE SUMMONS
to appear before the council at Leicester, Richard, Salisbury, and Warwick set out for London to petition the king, riding at the head of an impressive army. Cecily had clung to Richard in the privacy of her bedchamber before he went to his own to be attired in his blue and murrey robes.

“Have a care, Richard,” she begged him. “Do not do anything rash, I beg of you. Remember Dartford. You must see the king alone, for I believe he wants to trust you.”