* * *

The delegation was being discussed everywhere. In some it aroused amusement, in others concern.

‘They say it was made up of very respectable women.’

‘All very well dressed, I heard.’

‘That was so, no rabble. They came in orderly fashion. Well, it is a scandal.’

‘He used to be so popular with the Londoners, remember.’

‘Yes, they showed clearly that they preferred his rule to that of the Bishop. But what they strongly object to is that woman, of course. She is so blatant and he takes her everywhere. He remains besotted by her. They say he has never been faithful to one woman long.’

So the gossip continued.

Humphrey was annoyed. Eleanor was more so, for really it concerned her most.

The fact was that a body of merchants’ wives had presented themselves to the Council and announced that they were deeply shocked by the conduct of the Duke of Gloucester. He had abandoned his wife and was now flaunting his harlot Eleanor Cobham who was beside him wherever he went. Her manners were bold and she proclaimed with every gesture the nature of her relationship with the Duke. The wives of the merchants demanded more propriety in their rulers.

The women were graciously received by members of the Council. Nobody wanted to offend the merchants and they guessed that to offend their wives might be even more disastrous. It was pointed out to them that the Duke’s morals were really no concern of the Council and that the Pope had actually annulled his marriage.

This the women had to accept; but it did show the growing unpopularity of the Duke and when he rode out into the streets of London boys who could quickly dodge out of sight before they could be caught called after him.

The Council told him that his authority must be curbed. He could not expect the same power as that extended to his brother. He protested but that was little use. The housewives of London had had their effect. Before he had relied largely on his popularity with the Londoners. That that had waned considerably was obvious.

While he was grinding his teeth over his encounter with the Council the Earl of Warwick came to see him.

He had never liked Warwick. One of those honourable upright gentlemen, friend of John, loyal to the crown, not a man to diverge one little step from what he considered to be his duty. He had been a close friend of Henry the Fifth and very highly thought of by the late King.

Warwick characteristically came straight to the point. ‘My lord, I come to tell you that I have been formally committed to the task of guardianship of the King.’

Gloucester narrowed his eyes.

It was his place to have the guardianship of the King. Was he not his uncle? Who should have charge of the child but his nearest relative – and it was understood that he could not indefinitely be left to the charge of his mother. John was the elder brother, it was true, but Humphrey was here on the spot.

But to appoint Warwick was an insult to him.

‘And who has bestowed these powers on you?’ demanded Gloucester. ‘I have not been consulted.’

‘The Council, my lord, but you will remember that the late King, your noble brother, named me as guardian of his son. He bequeathed the care of his education to me and now that the King is of an age for serious education I would fulfil the promise I made to his father.’

Gloucester ground his teeth in dismay. But what could he do? Those housewives of London had unnerved him more than anything else. He felt as though the ground was moving under his feet.

‘The King is now seven years old,’ went on Warwick. ‘He should have his own household and a body of knights and squires whom we shall choose for him.’

‘I see that the matter has been decided,’ said Humphrey shortly.

‘It is as you would expect, my lord Duke. I have sworn to teach him to love, worship and dread God. I shall develop his character along virtuous lines and let him know that God favours righteous Kings.’

‘Does He?’ asked Gloucester.

‘My lord, I believe virtue to be the true way to happiness and that no joy can come to a ruler or his nation through avarice and ill doing.’

‘I hope your wisdom matches your piety, my lord Warwick.’

‘I have been commissioned to teach him, nurture him, to give him a good grounding in literature, language and all other arts and to chastise him when he does aught amiss.’

‘Take care with the cane, Warwick. Kings have long memories.’

‘I shall not allow such a consideration to cloud my actions. Also, my lord, I am to have the power to remove from him any persons who I consider shall be harmful to him.’

‘Great powers are yours, my lord.’

‘I shall do my best to use them wisely. The castles of Wallingford and Hertford have been chosen for him during the summers and Windsor and Berkhamsted for his winter residences.’

‘I can see that it has all been well planned. And his mother?’

‘He will see her frequently.’

‘Perhaps then she will emerge from her widowhood. It has been a long one.’

‘I am sure the Queen will never cease to mourn her husband.’

‘Maybe. Maybe. I wish you well of your task. I think you are going to need all the good wishes you can get.’

‘I am well aware, my lord Duke, of the gravity and importance of my task.’

Warwick left the Duke. It had been easier than he had hoped. Gloucester was angry that the care of young Henry had been passed to him; but he was still smarting too strongly from the signs of his unpopularity in the city of London to raise objections as he might otherwise have done.

‘Warwick has the King,’ Gloucester told Eleanor. ‘I don’t grudge him the task. Henry is not the meek boy some think him.’

Eleanor said: ‘You should take care not to lose your influence with him.’

‘Nay, I’ll be favourite uncle. Moreover tutors who are stern – and Warwick may well be – don’t always keep their pupils’ affection. The cane is a good way of beating out future favours. I imagine Warwick is too upright to consider this axiom. He’ll not spare the rod and that may well spoil his future chances.’

They laughed together. The appointment of Warwick was nothing more than a minor irritation.


* * *

So Henry had passed out of his babyhood. He must no longer stay under his mother’s influence. She should be grateful, she supposed, that they had allowed him to stay so long.

She thought: It will be easier now. There will be less attention focused on me. Perhaps I can live now like a humble country lady. That would suit her very well, for the most important part of her life was those hours she spent with Owen.

What an ecstatic relationship was theirs! Perhaps the more so because it was to be carried on with secrecy. Now that the King had left, important people had left with him. If she could go on living in obscurity in the country she must be thankful for this. She had contrived that Owen visit her bedchamber when the household was asleep, and he had climbed up and in at her window. But that could not go on for ever. It had been the happiest night of her life. Then she had been able to cast aside all pretence – for they had both pretended for many years; she that he was just a good squire; he that he was not in love with the Queen.

‘I love you,’ she told him twenty times during that first romantic night; and he had left her in no doubt that he shared her feelings.

She had come alive at last – alive as she had never been before. A fervent passion possessed her and she knew that it would be deep and abiding. She was not a girl any more to love romantically and this emotion had built up between them over the years. They had both tried to deny it, knowing that it would present difficulties, insurpassable difficulties they had seemed, but nothing was insurpassable before this torrent of love. It swept all aside. What cared she if he were a humble squire? What cared he if she were a Queen? They were lovers, meant for each other from the first moment they had been together. Now this love would not be denied. Her love for Henry had existed. But it was not to be compared with what she felt for Owen Tudor.

It was inevitable that those about her should notice the change in her. They saw the expression in her eyes when they alighted on the Tudor; they heard the inflection of her voice when she spoke of him.

Dame Alice and Joan Astley shook their heads together. They would not remain long, they knew, for their task was done. Their little one had been taken from their care and they were two sad women. When they were not talking of him and hoping that the Earl of Warwick would not be too harsh with him, they were wondering about the web the Queen was weaving about herself.

They were wistful. It had not been like a royal household. How pleasant it would have been to contemplate the arrival of more little ones who would be delivered to their care.

Dame Alice wondered whether she should warn the Queen that people were whispering about her and Owen Tudor.


* * *

Eleanor Cobham picked up the news. She prided herself on having what she called ‘her ear to the ground’.

She was greatly amused and lost no time in telling her lover of the rumours she had heard.

‘The Queen has a lover, eh?’ said Gloucester. ‘Well, are you surprised? Did you imagine the dear creature was living the life of a nun down there in the country? How did you think she spent her days?’

‘She was devoted to her son. But now he has gone she is following her own inclination it seems.’

‘I hope it is a worthy inclination.’

‘I have heard it is some humble squire. A Welshman at that.’

‘Is that so? Lucky squire! Katherine must be very loving to have chosen someone from the stables.’

‘They say they are deeply in love. That the Queen has always lived most virtuously before.’

Humphrey was thoughtful.

‘It is at such times that there is danger,’ he said. ‘She must not be allowed to forget that she is the Queen.’

It was a somewhat delicate subject. Eleanor had never suggested that Humphrey marry her, but he did wonder whether it was in her mind. He wondered how he would act if she started to bargain for marriage. Therefore he did not wish to discuss this passion of the Queen’s too closely. It could open up that other subject.

But he did think that the Queen’s future was a matter he should take up with the Council and he would do so without delay.

He must tread very carefully where his own affairs were concerned. As though to remind him of this there was more news of Jacqueline. Burgundy had defeated her completely and she had realised that she had no chance against him. She had signed a treaty at Delft in which she submitted to Philip’s wishes. She recognised him as her heir and co-Regent of her territories. By this she did not lose everything. But she had to promise that she would never marry without his consent for the form of marriage she had gone through with Gloucester was declared null and void. She renounced him utterly and accepted the fact that she had never been married to him.


* * *

The realisation had come to Katherine that she was to have a child. At first she was overwhelmed with joy. This seemed the perfect outcome of her love for Owen. Then she began to consider what this would mean.

She was a King’s widow. Where could she go while her child was born? Some women might be in a position to hide themselves away for a few months. It was difficult with a queen.

Moreover she was unmarried. Would it be possible for her and Owen to go through a ceremony of marriage? Why not? Her priest could marry them. This must be so now that there was to be a child. She would marry Owen and then proclaim to the world what she had done. The Council couldn’t stop her once the ceremony was over. Moreover what affair was it of any but herself and Owen? They had their work to do governing the country. What could the marriage of a late King’s widow mean to them? They could now concern themselves with the young King. They had taken him from her.

No, she was of no importance. She had been once, of course; and they had made full use of her to help bring about the peace between England and France. That was over. Henry was dead and she had been free for six years.

She was longing to tell Owen. How delighted he would be … and yet afraid. Only for her, of course. That was why he felt fear, as she did for him. For themselves each was ready to face whatever storm they had to, for the sake of what they had been to one another.