The Stolen Crown: The Secret Marriage That Forever Changed the Fate of England (40 page)

That will have to suffice.”

I didn’t have the heart—or the stomach—to tell this outright to my aunt, however. One angry woman in my life was enough.

In very few minutes, Margaret was in my chamber, which she gave an approving glance—I’d been in rather more modest quarters when we last spoke together. “Well. Your mother would be very proud to see you now, Harry.”

“I hope so, Aunt. I wish she had lived to see this.”

“Yes. It is sad that she didn’t. It is also sad when a son has a living mother, but is unable to see her.”

I could not help smiling. “You do come to a point quickly, Aunt Margaret.”

“Don’t I? Yes, people have always said I don’t shilly-shally. Well? Has the king come to a decision?”

“He is—uncertain, but I hope to persuade him.”

Aunt Margaret frowned. “Why, what obstacle could there be?”

“Not so much your son—who, after all, no one in England has seen since he reached manhood—but his companions. Mainly Jasper Tudor, I believe.”

“Jasper Tudor is no fool. He knows the cause of Lancaster is dead and will not try to resurrect it.”

“You seem well informed of his state of mind.”

2 7 2 s u s a n h i g g i n b o t h a m My aunt was not in the least abashed. “Well, why not? He is with my son, and a mother ought to stay in contact with her son by whatever means presents itself. Tell the king, if you please, that I am ready to stop fighting this war if he is. I only want my son back, and I want him in a position to receive his inheritance when I am gone. And I have another proposal, also. Let my son marry the Lady Elizabeth, or whatever we call the poor girl these days.”

“I am not certain he would look favorably on that, Aunt.”

The countess flicked her wrist in irritation. “How can he object? The girl is a bastard—or at least they say.” (My aunt uttered this addendum in so sweet a tone no one could have found it treasonous.) “That being the case, how can there be any harm in allowing her to marry my son? It could be argued that my son was too good for her, actually.”

“I suspect that you might say that about any young lady, Aunt.”

Aunt Margaret snorted. “How well you know me, Harry. Do continue to press my case with the king, I pray.”

“I shall.”

“There is another matter, not a personal one. The old king’s boys. What is to become of them?”

I saw no harm in telling her. “I believe the king intends to move them to one of his castles in the North. Why?”

“There is gossip about them. They have not been seen lately, and the people are concerned about their future. The king needs to reassure his subjects that they are being treated kindly. Their father was a popular man in London, after all. This is not the North, where hardly a soul has laid eyes on the boys. Here, they remain of importance. The king is deluding himself if he thinks otherwise.”

It was a shame, I thought, not for the first time, that my aunt had been born a woman. A little stiffly, though, as she
had
been born a woman and was meddling outside her sphere, I said, “I am certain he realizes the importance of seeing to their safety and comfort, and will do so.”

“For their sake, I hope so.” My aunt’s face took on a wistful expression.

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“They are but boys, Harry. Remember your own lads when you think of them.”

I had not wanted to tell my aunt, but a few days after the coronation, the boys’ old attendants, from Edward’s personal physician, Dr. Argentine, on down, had been replaced with ones of Richard’s choosing. It was a reasonable step to take, for the boys were no longer a king and a royal duke, but merely royal by-blows, and there was no need to keep their former entourage intact, especially an entourage inclined to be bitter about the blighting of their own prospects. The boys were also kept largely in their rooms, a necessity these days because ever since Richard had been declared king, there had been hints here and there of plans to take them overseas to start another court in exile. As if we hadn’t had enough of that in poor Margaret of Anjou’s day.

Still, Aunt Margaret’s words sent a twinge of guilt through me. I’d not seen the boys ever since the Eleanor Butler business was made public, and they were my kinsmen through the king as well as my nephews by marriage. It was only right that I pay them a visit, little as I relished the prospect of dealing with two sullen young boys.

“Welcome to our prison,” Edward greeted me as I was ushered in.

“It’s not a prison, Edward.”

“Oh? We’ve not been allowed outside for days now; our servants have all been sent away; and my brother Richard Grey and my uncle Anthony and faithful old Thomas Vaughan are dead. And Hastings, who treated me with respect, is dead. So what do you call it, dear uncle? The Parthenon?”

I blinked. Anthony had had this boy reading widely indeed. But now Richard—lively, merry Richard—broke in. “You lied to me, Uncle! You told me that I was to attend my brother’s coronation, when you meant all along to depose him and take away my own title! Isn’t that true?”

“No,” I said hopelessly, knowing that it probably was, even if I hadn’t admitted it at the time. “Boys, you must realize this: your father’s marriage

2 7 4 s u s a n h i g g i n b o t h a m to your mother was invalid. It was being investigated when I took you here, Richard, that is true. But it was an investigation done in good faith.

You must understand that.”

“Dr. Argentine said that a church court should have investigated it, and that my uncle didn’t have one do so because he knew there was nothing in it. That it was all lies that he made up.”

“Bishop Stillington investigated it, Richard, and he is learned in the law. The lords of the land accepted it as true. I am sorry, boys.” I waited, expecting another rejoinder, but got only two sullen stares.

I took the opportunity of the boys’ silence to look around their chamber.

It was large and comfortably furnished, and connected to a chamber that was equally pleasant looking, but both had mere slits for windows, and the boys had a pasty look. Clearly, they needed to be taken north soon.

There, little known, they could safely be given more freedom. “As for your quarters here, I know it is getting wearisome,” I resumed. “It is for your own protection, though you might not believe it. But it won’t be like this forever, I can promise you that. Soon you shall be taken north to live, I believe. It is not a bad place, you know. The king’s own son lives there. So does his natural son, the Lord Bastard, John.”

“Maybe we won’t have to move north,” muttered Richard. “Maybe we might get to live someplace el—”

Edward put a warning hand on his brother’s shoulder.

“What did he mean?” I asked sharply.

“Nothing. He’s just talking nonsense.”

I looked back at Richard, but he had plainly decided to clam up.

Something was going on. “Is there anything the two of you want, in the meantime? Some more books? Some games?”

“We have all of that. Until our dear uncle Richard decides that we’re not even fit to have that much.”

Richard’s lip wobbled. He looked, I realized, a great deal like his mother and my Kate. “I just want out of here. I hate it here, Uncle.”

“I know you do,” I said, more gently than before. I touched his shoulder,

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and he didn’t resist my comfort. “I promise you, Richard, I will see that you and your brother are soon out of here. I am in favor with the king, and I shall use my position to help you. But you must trust me—and not others who you might be convinced are working in your interests, when they are working in their own.”

“Why trust you?” asked the former king. “You put us here.”

A few days after this, one of the Tower guards came to its new constable, Sir Robert Brackenbury, and told him that there was a treasonous scheme afoot. The plan was to set fires across the city, then, during the confusion, to snatch the boys out of the Tower and spirit them abroad. The wardrober of the Tower, Stephen Ireland, was one of the ringleaders. Some of the boys’ old attendants had also been implicated. All in all, about fifty men were involved.

I hastily wrote to Richard about what Brackenbury had learned and arranged for the arrests of the men involved. Then, my business in London being over, I left the city myself. I would meet Richard on his progress and then go to Wales, where there was much work to be done, thanks to the offices with which Richard had entrusted me. I was glad to be going.

London in late summer was oppressive, whereas my Welsh estates, particularly Brecon, were at their loveliest that time of year. So was my Kate.

As I rode toward the Midlands, surrounded by a veritable mob of attendants, I pondered a new idea. Why not take Edward’s boys to stay at Brecon? It was as well fortified as any of Richard’s northern castles, and Wales was a familiar place to Edward at least. My sons, four and five years of age, would enjoy their cousins’ company. Besides, growing up in the North along with Richard’s son, the boys would never be able to forget the contrast between his status as heir to the throne and theirs as heirs to nothing. In Wales they could grow used to their changed position and gradually learn to accept it. And Kate would be the kindest of aunts to them.

2 7 6 s u s a n h i g g i n b o t h a m So enamored was I with my new plan that as soon as I reached Gloucester, where Richard’s party had arrived, I raised it the moment the king and I were alone.

“No.”

“Richard? I don’t understand. They would be kept at my expense, of course—”

“Expense has nothing to do with it.”

“Then why? I’ve more retainers than I can keep count of now, you know, with so many of Hastings’s men joining my household. God knows, they need more to do; they’d keep the boys as secure as they would be up north. You can trust me.”

“I know I can.” He walked to the window and stared out of it before abruptly turning round again. “You let me know very quickly about that business in London.”

“Well, of course,” I said, baffled by his strange manner.

“And I sent two men to London. The first went to the chancellor, ordering him to commence the prosecution of the conspirators. The second went to the Tower with a verbal order to the boys’ servants. It was carried out yesterday.”

“An order for what? Richard, you’re speaking in riddles.”

“I shall be plain, then. Harry, the boys are dead. At my order.”

I thought for a moment that I was going to vomit or to faint, but I managed to do neither. Hastings. Rivers. Grey. Vaughan. And now his own nephews.
My
own nephews. “How?” I managed.

“Smothering,” said Richard easily. We could have been talking of killing rats. “They were asleep—had been given a little something to make them sleep more deeply. They didn’t feel a thing, I’m sure of it. They went to bed happy. They had a message that they would be leaving the Tower the next day and would be heading north, as promised. Their things were all packed and ready to go, in fact.” He shrugged and pointed upward. “Well,

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of course they were heading north, in a manner of speaking. The cooks made them their fav—”

“Tell me no more about it.” I sank down upon a stool.

“For God’s sake, Harry, don’t stare at me like Christ and all of his saints rolled into one! It was necessary for the safety of the realm. If there was another way, I’d have taken it, but there was no other. Not once I learned of that plot. We foiled this one, but what of the next one, and the one after that, and the one after that? There will be peace in England now that they’re gone, just as there was when we did away with poor old King Henry.”

“We?”

“Why, Ned and I, of course. It was Ned’s order, but I did the deed. I had to; Ned didn’t trust anyone else to carry it out without talking. Just a pillow over his face when he was fast asleep. He was a sound sleeper; it couldn’t have been easier. He was half dead anyway; had been for months.

Years. He’d probably have thanked me if he’d had a chance, the poor holy fool. You never guessed?”

“No.”

“And what came out of it? Years of peace. We can make something even better of this, Harry, you and I. It will be a golden age, the age my brother was too lazy to let come to fruition.”

“A golden age,” I echoed. An age founded on a lie—I could no longer gainsay it—and steeped in blood. As if this was just a routine matter of business we were discussing, I asked, “Will you display their bodies?”

He shook his head. “I considered it, but no. They were handsome lads, not worn-out wrecks like old Henry. Seeing them dead would upset the people. As it is, people will at first think they’ve just been secreted away, and by the time they figure out the truth, they won’t care anymore, because England will be so strong and prosperous they won’t want to care. After all, who cares about Arthur of Brittany, whom King John put to death?”

“Who cared for King John?”

“John was a fool; he alienated the people. I’ll win them over. They love me in the North. Why can’t they learn to love me elsewhere? Already I’ve

2 7 8 s u s a n h i g g i n b o t h a m pleased them on this progress by refusing to take their money.” He chuckled. “Ned would have had bagfuls of it by now. Not to mention siring the odd bastard or two along the way.” When I didn’t chuckle in return, Richard said more stiffly, “I can assure you, it’s not a decision I relished making. But it’s for the best of all, in the long run.”

“Sometimes it’s better for the safety of the realm as a whole that a few should die,” I recited.

“Well, precisely. I won’t lie and say I slept well after giving the order, but it had to be done.” He poured some wine, then proffered the cup to me. I shook my head and he drank from the cup himself. “I’m glad I’ve unburdened myself to you, Harry. I hadn’t been looking forward to telling you, after I told Anne. I had to; she kept asking me when the boys were coming north.” He smiled, very slightly. “All of this could have been avoided if everyone hadn’t been so uncommonly anxious to take them out of the Tower.”