The King’s Concubine: A Novel of Alice Perrers (61 page)

His growl of laughter stirred my belly to hot desire.

I had ridden home to Gaines, after settling a dispute regarding a boundary between two of Windsor’s recalcitrant tenants, to find the usual chaos of arrival. There in the midst of all, directing horses and baggage, was Windsor, now striding toward me. His face was alight with the same saturnine smile that had piqued my curiosity so long ago at Edward’s Court.

“I hear you’ve been wielding a heavy stick for me against my tenants.”
He held out his arms as I slid down from my horse. “My love, my dear, my impossibly belligerent one.”

Not caring that we had an interested audience, I leaned into his embrace. He had returned. His clasp was all-encompassing, his lips warm and gratifyingly familiar on mine. All the futile emptiness in my chest dissolved as his arms tightened around me as if he would never let me go, although I knew he would when the time came.

“How long, Will?” It was the only thing that mattered.

“I can manage a few weeks at least. Cherbourg is well in hand.” He released me to search in one of his saddlebags. “First things first. I have this for you.”

I found I was smiling foolishly. It was good to see him. I did not greatly care what the gift was—a jewel, a pair of gloves, presumably something small enough to be packed into so confined a space. But it was neither. With a flourish, he produced a letter and presented it to me with a courtly bow.

“This is yours, Lady de Windsor. A meager piece of parchment, and much traveled—but of immeasurable value.”

He was somber as I opened the sheet, smoothing out the creases. I glanced up at his stern face, then back down at the directive with its heraldic emblem and red seal.

“They’ve done it, Will!” I gasped. “They’ve done it at last!”

There it was: beyond all my hopes. My banishment formally, officially, legally, revoked. A pardon granted to me for my breaking of Parliament’s command—the crime that I had never committed.

“Did you doubt it?” Windsor asked, his smile like a shaft of sunlight to pierce my heart.

“Yes. Oh, yes. I doubted it,” I replied, light-headed with the joy of it.

“I didn’t,” he responded with the arrogance I had come to accept. “I’m too valuable to antagonize. They knew I could always rescind my decision, leaving them in the lurch to find a new Governor. Now, don’t weep over it!” He took the parchment from me, sliding it into his belt. “It’s far too valuable to be blurred by unnecessary tears! You lost Gaunt’s original letter—we’ll not lose this one.”

I covered my face with my hands, my relief beyond words, and the
tears continued to flow. Windsor took my wrists in a gentle grip and drew my hands down.

“Does that give your restless soul some contentment?”

“Some.” I managed a little laugh. “My thanks, Will.”

“And that’s not all.” He paused until he had my attention. “You’ll get your property back, legally acknowledged as yours.”

“All of it?” Now, that I could not believe.

He shook his head. “Not the manors in Edward’s gift. They’ll not do that. But all the lands legally purchased by you and Greseley—they will be restored.”

“That’s enough.…” I could barely utter the words. “It’s wonderful! I’ll have Pallenswick again.…”

“But they are not quite yours.…” He was leading me into the house.

I stopped.

“What?”

“They will be restored to
me
—as your husband.” His shout of laughter at my shocked expression disturbed the doves roosting on the roof of the stables, sending them up into a white-winged cloud.

“God damn them to hell! I don’t agree with that.…”

“Did I think you would?”

“But I…”

“It’s the best you can get, Alice. You know how the law stands. Your possessions are mine. But I’m a very generous husband.” He was solemn again, holding my hands strongly, palm-to-palm with his, to prevent my possible retaliation. He still read the fire in my eyes. “I make you free of your manors—I won’t interfere in their running. And the income from them is yours to use for yourself and your children.”

“How generous!”

“Exceedingly! Does it not satisfy you, Alice?”

I allowed my thoughts to settle. I had never thought it to be in my heart and mind, in my very soul, to be satisfied. Had I not always been restless, striving for the unreachable, driven to make a life that was safe and secure, for my children, for me? I must accept reality. A woman was dependent on a man, however much she might like to deny it, and if I would choose to be dependent on any man, it would be William de Windsor.

There he stood, the sun silvering his hair at the temples, the courtyard brimful of his presence, the smile that remained a constant companion even in his absence. Who’d have thought that the infamous Windsor would have a haunting smile? But he did for me.

“Well?” he asked. “I could do no more for you than this, ungrateful hussy.”

“I know. And I am very grateful,” I replied. I took his arm and we stepped together inside our home. I smiled. “I am satisfied.”

Anne O’Brien
taught history in the East Riding of Yorkshire, England, before deciding to fulfill an ambition to write historical fiction. She now lives in an eighteenth-century timbered cottage with her husband in the Welsh Marches in Herefordshire, a wild remote area that provides much inspiration for people and events in medieval times.

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THE KING’S
CONCUBINE

A NOVEL OF ALICE PERRERS

Anne O’Brien

A CONVERSATION WITH ANNE O’BRIEN

Q. It’s amazing to me that a woman of such obscure origins as Alice could rise so high as to become the King’s powerful mistress. Was she just a smart woman who got lucky?

A. Alice was without doubt a smart woman. Her origins are difficult to penetrate. Despite recent research, her ancestry is uncertain and there is no record of her birth. If she knew her family, she never made claims on them or promoted them when she came to power. We know nothing of her education except that she was clearly able to read and write and deal with numbers, quite an achievement for a girl of no social standing. It seems she was married briefly to Janyn Perrers, a Lombardy moneylender living in London.

So how did she achieve her preeminence? Part good fortune: There is no record of why or how she came to the attention of the Queen—thus the role of the novelist to fill in the gaps. As for the rest, Alice took advantage of her situation to line her pockets and ensure a comfortable life for herself and her children in preparation for royal patronage coming to an end. Definitely a smart and intelligent woman who used her talents to the full.

Q. Alice strikes me as being highly adaptable and intuitive, able to suss out a situation and identify where her best interest lies. She’s the consummate survivor. Do you agree? What do you see as Alice’s greatest strengths and weaknesses?

A. Alice was a survivor. Her greatest strength was her astonishing tenacity in pursuing her ambitions in a man’s world. She proved herself to be a remarkable businesswoman in using every method open to her to cushion her future. At the same time, I think she cared deeply for Edward and did all she could to alleviate the loneliness and confusion of his last days. She stayed with him to the end.

Her weakness, if it was a weakness, was her ability to make too many powerful enemies— but given her position at Court and her influence over the King, this was inevitable. Even so, compromise did not exist in Alice’s planning. Once she had achieved wealth, she wanted more. The pursuit of power and land, which she did with remarkable success, proved to be her undoing.

Q. Despite the wealth and power Alice gains as Edward’s mistress, she strikes me as singularly alone during her time at Court—with no one female friend to confide in, and subject to Edward’s waxing and waning interest. Do you think she was deeply lonely?

A. I think that Alice was an isolated figure and probably felt the lack of intimacy of female friendship. In all the voices raised against her, not one was raised in her support. Perhaps this was one of the factors that drove her into her liaison with Windsor, seeing in him a kindred spirit and a reflection of her own ambitions. In the novel I suggest that at one point she regretted her lack of a confidante, but I don’t think it troubled her overmuch. I think Alice was a man’s woman. Female companionship was of little importance to her.

Q. Plague comes through early in the novel. It’s hard for us now to imagine the despair and devastation it wrought as it swept periodically through Europe. Can you tell us a little more about its impact?

A. Plague first struck England in the summer of 1348, with dire results. Arriving in Dorset in the west, it spread rapidly, killing perhaps half the population of England within twelve months. It struck indiscriminately at rich and poor alike—Philippa’s daughters were victims of the plague—but mostly it was to be found in town communities, where the disease could spread rapidly in the unhealthy conditions. Clerics who ministered to the sick were particularly badly hit. Recovery was rare, and the suffering great from the buboes that grew in armpit and groin, the plague victims usually succumbing within three days and being buried without record in plague pits. There was no understanding of its cause—the bite of the flea that lived on the black rat. I think we do not fully appreciate the full extent of the death rate. What we do know is that the shortage of laborers helped to bring the end of the servitude of the feudal system. The workers who remained demanded higher wages and more freedom from service. The lords had no choice but to accept.

After this first epidemic, plague returned at regular intervals, never so widespread or for so long, but still enough to fill the medieval mind with fear of death and punishment for wrongdoing. The final appearance was in the reign of Charles II in 1665.

Q. Except for his last years, Edward III seems to have been an effective ruler. What do you see as his lasting legacy? How does he fit into the grand sweep of English history?

A. Edward III has been celebrated as the most brilliant of all English monarchs, and there is much justification for it. He was a magnificent figurehead and a chivalrous leader, and he took on the demanding role with great enthusiasm until his decline in his final decades. His achievements were outstanding. Throughout his long reign he preserved peace within England, the stability bringing an increase in trade and prosperity. In international affairs, England became supreme and the center of European politics. As patron of the arts and architecture, Edward supervised the extension and improvements of the great palaces, such as
Windsor. Much of the English love of historical pageantry came from Edward: He loved outward show, and it was he who adopted the Flag of Saint George.

Unfortunately, terrible seeds of disaster for the future were sown in Edward’s reign. The European empire became untenable, dragging England into expensive war without hope of success. Perhaps of greater misfortune, Edward’s creation of titles and wealth for his sons, given the strain of the minority and the character of Richard II, was eventually to lead to the power struggle and civil war of the Wars of the Roses.

Q. How rare was Edward’s devotion to Queen Philippa? Do all your sources suggest he sincerely loved her, or is that your romantic imagination at work?

A. Edward and Philippa were soul mates. Theirs was an arranged marriage, but Edward found in Philippa a stability that had been lacking in his early life, when he had been manipulated by his ambitious mother, Queen Isabella, and her lover, Mortimer. Edward was a superlative knight and a courageous fighter, but he needed support at home.

Philippa stood by him, gave him the benefit of her strong common sense, and encouraged him to seize power for himself. This unity developed into a very deep and abiding love, cemented by their large family. Stories of Edward’s adultery early in the marriage are regarded by historians as a product of French propaganda against him. It is generally thought that he had no mistress and was entirely faithful to Philippa until Alice Perrers came to court. Even then he had a care for Philippa, hypocritical as it might appear. Her death broke him, pushing him into the slow deterioration of his final years.

I think I have not exaggerated the strength of feeling between them. They were devoted to each other over a marriage of forty years; it was a very satisfying relationship to explore.

Q. Do we know what ailment Philippa suffered from? Was it something her children inherited?

A. Philippa’s final years were full of suffering. A fall from her horse when hunting resulted in severe damage to her shoulder, probably a dislocation, which was never reset adequately. This gave her intense pain. It also seems that she suffered from dropsy, the painful swelling of soft tissue due to the accumulation of fluid in the body, a complaint that could be alleviated today but not then. Her children did not inherit it.