Queen by Right (74 page)

She saw Edmund coming to take his customary place beside her carriage and beckoned him to her. “I must speak with you about your father, Edmund. Do you see his banner? It will surely provoke the queen when she hears of it. Do you know his mind?”

Edmund smiled and Cecily could see he was full of pride for his father. “Indeed, I do, Mother, but surely he has told you too.”

Cecily scowled. “Aye, he has, and he knows my reservations.” She saw the procession was beginning to move and begged Edmund to ride in the vehicle with her.

“What happened in Ireland, Edmund?” she asked. “Your father seems changed.”

Edmund’s eyes shone with pride as he told her that in Ireland Richard had been treated as though he were the king. “Both the Anglo-Irish and the chieftains bowed down to him, and I was treated like a king’s son. Father took me into his confidence after many a meeting with the lords, and little by little I saw which way the wind was blowing with him. They urged him to return to England and take his rightful place. I knew it for certain after Warwick’s secret visit.”

Cecily was ashamed to feel a twinge of envy and sadness that Richard had found a new confidante in Edmund. Would it diminish her relationship with her favorite son? She dismissed the thought as petty and returned her attention to Edmund’s explanation of Richard’s present path.

“My dear Edmund,” she argued. “Henry is still the king in Ireland. The people are his subjects, not ours, and your father’s rightful place is as chief
councillor. Now, I pray you, listen to my words—and not those in your swollen head.” She saw Edmund flinch from her rebuke and longed to reassure him of her love, but now was not the time. “Arriving in London under a royal standard will not help Richard’s case, I can assure you. I am afraid it will only incite violence, and if you think clearly, you will agree I am right. Now, I beg of you, fetch your father here, for if you will not persuade him to remove those banners, I will.”

Edmund opened his mouth to disagree but, recognizing the look of determination on his mother’s face, he decided to do her bidding. However, by the time he had mounted his horse, he could see that the army was already on the move and Richard was now unreachable. To her great chagrin, Cecily knew it too, and so all she could do was settle back into the cushions and fume.

T
HE BELLS OF
St. Peter at Westminster were ringing for nones when, on the tenth day of October, Richard of York rode into the courtyard of Westminster Palace, trumpets and clarions blaring, which attracted a crowd. He waited until several of his immediate entourage had also dismounted, including Edmund, and then strode into the great hall.

Arriving behind the first group, Cecily did not wait for someone to hand her down from her carriage but managed with Gresilde’s help. The two women hurried inside, Cecily anxious to know Richard’s intentions. Being told her husband was on his way to the lords’ chamber, she almost ran. The door was wide, and although women did not enter that hallowed hall, she halted on the threshold and gasped when she saw her husband, already at the front of the chamber, with his hand upon the throne. She searched the faces for Richard’s enemies, but Lancastrian foes such as Exeter, Devon, and young Somerset had elected to stay away. When Richard turned back, expecting roars of approval from the gathered barons, he faced instead horrified expressions or stony stares. Poor Richard, Cecily thought grimly, ’twas not the reception you expected.

“I am come, my lords!” Richard announced as though the lords were all blind and stupid. “Who will accompany me to the council chamber?”

Cecily’s heart sank. She hardly recognized the man on the dais as her husband. Before she could motion to him from the doorway to stop this madness, Richard had run down the steps and was making for the archway at the back of the chamber, followed closely by Edmund. The lords surged after him, but their voices expressed shock and disapproval. The stunned
ushers, who had finally gathered their wits, hurriedly closed the great oak doors on Cecily.

At a loss, Cecily moaned. “What shall we do now? Gresilde. We cannot enter the Star Chamber, but I fear the duke is on a path to destruction.” Dear God, she thought, he thinks he is the king. Ah, Richard, why must you be so rash now after being so patient all these years? Warwick has smoothed the way for you to get your wish to be Henry’s chief councillor, and London is ready for you. What more do you need? Oh, why had he not listened to her?

She looked about her and saw several armed men in the York livery milling about in doorways and so felt safe enough to make her way into the great hall. Gresilde was tut-tutting about the impropriety of their presence in this male bastion when suddenly Roger Ree appeared in front of them and quickly led them up the broad stairs to the royal lodgings.

“My lord duke will be taking over the king’s apartments, your grace. Follow me,” he said with purpose. The usually affable Master Ree seemed as disapproving of Cecily’s presence in these chambers as Gresilde was.

Taking over the king’s apartments, Cecily repeated to herself in horror as she mounted the narrow spiral staircase to the second floor, Gresilde puffing behind her. What did Richard intend to do with Henry? She felt sick to her stomach, and she was not sure she could take much more anxiety. Surely he did not plan to kill the king. From the reckless way Richard was acting, she had to wonder how far he would go, and she felt a deep dread.

Cecily could hear Richard’s voice floating down from the landing in front of the king’s apartments, which he had already reached by the back stair from the Star Chamber. When she arrived on the landing, breathless, she saw Richard’s way being barred by two guards.

“Open in the name of Richard, duke of York, sirrahs,” Richard commanded. The soldiers wavered momentarily, then held their halberds firmly crossed in front of the portal. It was then Richard saw Cecily. Thunderstruck, he strode to her, that strong chin leading. “My lady, why are you here?”

She recognized the stubborn stance, but held her ground. “I might ask you the same question, my lord,” she replied in a low voice. “What are your intentions for the king?” She held his gaze and waited for an answer.

He drew her aside then, his jaw tense. “You know I would no more harm that feeble-minded man than I would one of our daughters, Cecily. But I
will
assert claim now, and no one, not even you, shall stop me.” He caught her hand and held it to his heart. “I swear I will not harm him, but I will occupy
the royal apartments to show my resolve.” He dropped his voice to a whisper, his gray eyes pleading with her. “Please support me now of all times, my love, I beg of you.”

Cecily gave a little moan as she saw the desperation in his look. “Oh, Richard, how have we come to this?” Then she bowed her head, resigned. “I am your wife and I must stand with you for better or for worse, in truth. But I fear for us, my lord,” she whispered.

He kissed her hand and, tucking it in his arm, commanded the guards to stand aside for the duke and duchess of York. This time the two men put up their weapons and Richard himself flung open the doors to the richly adorned antechamber, where a couple of attendants cowered in the corner.

“Where is his grace the king?” Richard demanded. Their eyes shifted to the door of another room, and following their gaze, he went to it and knocked. Cecily trailed behind at a discreet distance, and when the door opened she could see the king seated on a high-backed chair, his face a picture of bewilderment at this intrusion. She winced visibly at his discomfort, but she was mollified to see Richard at least give Henry due reverence before stating his intentions.

Two of Henry’s gentlemen stepped forward, daggers drawn, and tried to protest the duke of York’s outrageous demand that the king leave his own apartments and take lodgings in the queen’s rooms. Henry held up his hand and smiled sweetly at his champions.

“Forsooth and forsooth, sirs, it is pointless to argue. My lord of York has a stubborn look about him, and we shall have no fighting in here, do you understand?” His expression changed as a sadness fell over him. “Enough of my subjects have lost their lives already,” he said with a sincerity that moved Cecily deeply. “Nay, I shall be happy to lodge in the queen’s chambers”—he looked past Richard at Cecily in the doorway—“for in my experience a lady knows far more about living comfortably than a man, is that not so, duchess?”

Having forgotten that Cecily would have followed him, Richard swiveled around to see his wife in a deep curtsey. She smiled up at the king past her husband and nodded. “You have the measure of it, my liege. And have no fear, I shall make certain my husband sees to your comfort. After your kindness to me and my children at Ludlow,” she said, eyeing Richard purposefully, “it is the very least I can do.”

“Ah, well,” Henry replied. Richard could only stand and watch as the king rose, passed him by without a trace of rancor, and put out his hand to Cecily.
“You and I go back many years, do we not, duchess? The first time we met, you were not so much in awe of me, I remember. There was some reference to Lot’s wife that amused my mother. You made quite an impression on her.”

Cecily smiled. “As she did on me, your grace. Your mother was a wise and beautiful woman.”

Henry held out his hand. “Come, my dear duchess, why do you not escort me to my new quarters, where we can reminisce. I confess, those were happier times than now, and it would cheer me greatly to talk of them.”

Ignoring Richard, the king escorted Cecily out of his own chambers with a calm dignity that left Richard chastened and speechless.

L
ATER
R
ICHARD AND
Cecily sat in the king’s solar, each occupied with their separate thoughts, when Roger Ree entered. He related that the earl of Salisbury had hurried from the council chamber after Richard’s unannounced arrival, there to report the events at Westminster to his son, Warwick, ensconced in his lodgings at Grey Friars, just inside the city wall. “He took Lord Edward with him,” Roger said with a slight hesitation and waited for the expected explosion, but Richard knew enough not to upbraid the messenger and he checked his temper. Cecily was puzzled by Ned’s action, but chose to stay silent as her fear increased.

And she said nothing when Richard left her to go to the council chamber the next day, while in his wife’s apartments on the other side of the courtyard, God’s anointed sat peacefully reading the Scriptures.

Richard was back in the royal lodgings when a barge decorated with the bear and ragged staff docked at the palace wharf. As Cecily was anxiously quizzing Richard on the morning’s events, the door burst open and Warwick and Edward strode in. Warwick gave her a quick bow, but he refused to reverence Richard.

“What is the meaning of this?” Richard cried to Warwick, as Edward went down on one knee to receive his father’s blessing. “Nephew, why were you not at the meeting today?”

The earl ignored both questions and came straight to the point. “My lord duke, with all due respect, your actions of the past few days are not aiding our cause, and you may be jeopardizing what we have strived for all these years.”

“In what way, my lord?” Cecily interrupted, not intimidated by her nephew’s piercing eyes and imperious stance. She hoped to temper the anger she saw boiling in Richard and she glared at her husband, willing him to control it.

“Were you aware that his grace took it upon himself to sit on the throne at the meeting today?” Warwick asked.

Cecily gulped as Warwick informed her that Archbishop Bourchier of Canterbury, formerly a staunch supporter, had hurried straight to Grey Friars to tell Warwick, his father, and Edward. “Even Canterbury cannot accept such audacious behavior, your grace,” Warwick told Richard. “And we cannot afford to lose his support. And so I made haste to come to you and ask that you reconsider your actions.” He watched Richard rise and start pacing the room. Cecily could not help but admire the younger man’s forthrightness. “In case you have forgotten, we have sworn to protect the king, not remove him—at least, those of us who were at Northampton did so swear. To all of our supporters you appear to be bent on breaking that oath,” he accused Richard haughtily.

Edmund had entered the room just as Warwick ended his tirade. Fists balled and jaw clenched, he advanced on his cousin, and before Richard could address Warwick’s accusation, Edmund came to his father’s defense.

“How dare you thus impugn my lord father,” he shouted. “He has every right to claim the throne, and you know it well, or you and your father would not have supported him all these years.” Then he rounded on Edward. “I did not hear you protesting, Brother. Are you with our cousin or with Father?”

“Hold your peace, Edmund,” Richard interjected, putting his hand on his son’s arm, his anger abating. “We are all on the same side, but it seems we have different objectives.”

“You always told me our objective was to rescue the king from his corrupt councillors and bring about reform, my lord,” Edward answered, keeping his distance so as not to appear to tower over his father. “We pledged a sacred oath to King Henry and to the people of the realm, and you told me that we returned to England to accomplish that objective. What has changed your mind, if I may be so bold as to ask?”

Cecily recognized the thrust of Richard’s chin and the lowering of his brow as a warning sign, and she held her breath. She looked helplessly from one to the other of her family, all in a stance of defensive indignation. She hardly recognized Edmund. What had happened to the frightened, gentle boy who had fled into the night at Ludlow? She feared she must blame Richard. He must have filled the lad’s head with dreams of a crown.

“If it had not been for Bolingbroke’s usurpation fifty years ago, Edward, I would be on the throne now by right of my ancestor Lionel of Clarence,”
Richard said as if to a schoolboy. “I am tired of being passed by, exiled, shunned, or ignored. The people are weary of the ineffectual king. He has brought nothing but destruction and instability to the realm. They would be better governed by me, I believe, and the time for change has come.”