And they were drawing her into it. Little had she thought when the four of them had been so merry together that this would be the result.

They were all persuading her – Richard and the two lovers. Launcecrona was her attendant, her friend. She must do this for her.

Perhaps she was foolish. Perhaps it was a momentary weakness. Usually she liked to stand up for her own opinions. But they were all persuading her. ‘Come, Anne, what difference does it make to you? Your opinion will mean so much. Urban wants all the support he can get. He will want it from Bohemia as well as England.’

So she gave way.

How merry they were together then. Launcecrona and Robert danced round the apartment. Richard took her hand and they joined in. The four friends. Richard was contented. These were the people he loved best. He was happy with them; and he had so many cares.

It was not as though Philippa had loved her husband, Anne reasoned with herself, and Robert and Lancegrove were so happy together.

When it was known that Robert de Vere was seeking to put his wife away simply because he wanted another woman, the fury and resentment against him burned more fiercely than ever.

Was there nothing the King would not do for this man?

When the news reached Gloucester he grew pale with rage. This was an insult to his niece. How dared this fellow put aside a royal princess for the sake of a low-born Bohemian!

He would not forget this insult; but, hating Robert de Vere as he did, it was Richard whom he blamed.

He must go, he vowed secretly. He shall go.


* * *

The matrimonial affairs of Robert de Vere were like a spark which set off the conflagration. Since de Vere had become Duke of Ireland, it was asked, why did he not take action in that troublesome country? What was he doing lounging at Court, sporting with his concubine and the King and the Queen? There was work to be done.

‘Gloucester is the enemy,’ said Richard. ‘I seem to be plagued by uncles. Gloucester is worse than Lancaster. Listen. You will have to make a feint of going to Ireland, Robert. We will leave London together for I shall come to see you off. But you will not go to Ireland. We will march back to London surrounded by an army and there we shall denounce Gloucester as the traitor he is.’

It was a wild plan, as all Richard’s plans were.

They left London and made their way to Wales where they were joined by Suffolk, Sir Robert Tresilian, the harsh judge of those peasants who had been brought to trial after the great revolt, and Alexander Neville who was the Archbishop of York and had always shown allegiance to the King in his conflict with his uncles.

They were to march on London and having made sure of the Londoners’ support, summon the King’s adversaries to face a charge of treason.

Richard was welcomed in London but when it was known that Gloucester, Warwick and Arundel, realising what was happening, had gathered together a rival force and were waiting near Highgate, the Londoners changed their minds.

They were not, they declared, going to risk having their heads broken for the sake of the Duke of Ireland.

The result was that the three lords, Gloucester, Warwick and Arundel came to see the King.

Gloucester cried out that he had intended no treason against the King. It was his advisers who were making the trouble and he should rid himself of them.

Richard and his uncle faced each other, each trying to curb his anger, each wondering how far he could go.

Gloucester cried: ‘We are asking for the trial of your advisers. Nothing else will satisfy the lords.’

Richard was silent. They meant Robert de Vere, de la Pole who was the Earl of Suffolk, Alexander Neville, Archbishop of York, and Robert Tresilian, the Lord Chief Justice.

There was silence in the chamber. Richard felt fear suddenly grip him. He could not get out of his mind those nightmares which had haunted him of his great-grandfather, Edward the Second. He knew his history. It had begun with him rather like this.

When those fears came on him he felt a compulsion to give way … or appear to give way.

He relented suddenly. Gloucester and his friends must have their way. He would agree to the parliamentary impeachment of his friends.

As soon as they had gone he despatched messengers to them all.

Escape, was his command. Get away while there is time.

The wrath of Gloucester was great when he realised that the King’s favourites had escaped.

He went to Huntingdon and there was met by Henry of Bolingbroke. It was the first time the son of John of Gaunt had stepped into prominence, and none at that time – least of all Richard – was aware of the significance of this.

‘By God’s eyes,’ cried Gloucester to Henry of Bolingbroke, ‘Richard is heading for disaster. Can you see that he is setting out on the path taken by our ancestor? This man de Vere is another Gaveston. If he continues in this way he could lose him his crown.’

And if he lost his crown who then would take it?

There were lights in Gloucester’s eyes, and they were reflected in those of Henry of Bolingbroke.


* * *

Richard was desolate. There was nothing but disaster everywhere he looked. The forces against him were too strong.

He wept with Anne. ‘I am a King who has never been allowed to rule,’ he said. ‘If I had been older when I came to the throne how different everything would have been!’

She comforted him, but she knew there was little comfort to offer.

Even the people did not love them as they once had. They were fond of Richard in a way but they were not prepared to fight to keep him on the throne. As for her, she had been their mild and meek little Queen but they now blamed her for Robert de Vere’s divorce for they knew that she had written to the Pope and asked him to grant it, and they would never feel the same towards her again.

There was trouble everywhere, terrible trouble. It had been foolish really to become involved in Robert’s divorce and remarriage. For what had happened since? He and Launcecrona were parted.

Robert was now raising an army to fight the King’s enemies.

She knew it was hopeless to pit his strength against men like Gloucester, Warwick and Arundel, the hero who had driven the French off the seas. Robert had never been noted for his military skill.

Launcecrona and she sat together talking quietly of the disasters. All the merriment was over now. They were both deadly serious.

And as they sat there the door was flung open and a groom came in.

They stared at him. The Queen rose in horror thinking the man had come to kill them. For what other reason would a groom break into the royal chamber?

Then Launcecrona gave a little cry.

‘Robert!’

Robert it was, scarcely recognisable as the dandy of the past except when he spoke.

‘I am in great haste,’ he said. ‘I have come to see the King.’

‘I will get him myself,’ said Anne, and left the husband and wife together for a few moments.

Richard came hurrying in. ‘Robert!’ he cried and they embraced. It was almost as though they were the lovers for their reunion was more poignantly loving than that of Robert and Launcecrona.

‘Robert, my dear, dear friend, what brings you here?’

‘Rout. Disaster! I am a fugitive, Richard.’

‘And in danger!’

‘Acute danger. Let me tell you quickly what happened. My men were routed by Arundel’s at Radcot. My men deserted me, Richard. They had no heart to fight Arundel’s men. Arundel persuaded them to desert me. There was nothing for it but flight. I only escaped by plunging into the river with my charger. I lost my baggage, my money … even letters of yours which I had always cherished.’

‘Never mind … never mind now,’ said Richard. ‘You must get away from here.’

‘Abroad. It is the only way. They are bent on bloodshed, Richard, depend upon it. They want scapegoats and they will choose those from your friends.’

‘Then, my dearest, go from here with all speed. You must have money.’

‘If I can get to the river I shall take boat to the Low Countries.’

‘Go, go!’ cried Richard. ‘I beg of you. My heart goes with you.’

They gave him food and money, and did what they could to make sure he escaped undetected.

Anne was sad, looking fearfully into the future. Of only one thing could she be certain: there would be no more jolly parties for four in the royal apartments.


* * *

It was good news that Robert had escaped to Flanders. But that was not the end of the matter.

The situation had not been eased. Robert might have dodged his fate but the others remained. There was the King to be faced and he must know the truth.

Gloucester and his friends planned together.

With a gleam in his eyes Gloucester expressed the opinion that Richard was unfit to rule and should be deposed.

Arundel agreed with him.

But there was caution among the rest. Henry of Bolingbroke had begun to make his presence felt. He said little, but his eyes were watchful.

He waited for the lords to say what he knew they would. The deposition of the King was too drastic.

Gloucester tried to contain his temper. They were thinking – and of course they were right – that if Richard were deposed, John of Gaunt occupied in Castile and Edmund Duke of York too lazy to want the crown, to whom would it fall but Gloucester?

Henry of Bolingbroke was not sure that would suit him now. Richard was a weak King but his father would not wish to see his Uncle Gloucester replace Richard. Who could say what the outcome would be in Castile and if John of Gaunt had to return once more, he was the eldest living son of Edward the Third; he was the one who would be next in line. Of course there was Lionel’s daughter, but she could surely be dealt with.

And if by some glorious turn of fate John of Gaunt became King, his eldest son would follow him.

No, this was surely not the moment to depose Richard. Even so Bolingbroke was on the side of the lords who had been raising their voices to save the King from his evil advisers; and he was with those who prepared to present an ultimatum to the King.

It was Christmas Day – a most uneasy one for Richard and Anne. In spite of the usual merriment, rumours had persisted; and the streets of London were filled not with merry makers but with those who whispered together and asked what would happen next. Even the mummers had lost their zest and there was no seasonal joy in the singing of the carols.

Richard, dressed with his usual splendour, glittering with jewels, was startled when the five lords burst in on him.

They joined arms – a gesture of their solidarity – as they marched towards him, each wearing the colours of their families. Gloucester, Arundel, Warwick and the two younger men, Mowbray and Bolingbroke.

‘What means this?’ stammered Richard.

Gloucester was the spokesman.

‘My lord,’ he said, ‘we have in our possession letters in your hand, captured at Radcot. These show that you sanctioned the raising of an army to make war within this realm. You have suggested that help might be procured from the King of France for which you would barter England’s possessions in that land.’

Richard felt sick with fear. They had the better of him now.

‘How dare you break thus into my presence … arm in arm as to come against me?’ he demanded.

‘My lord,’ said Bolingbroke. ‘Come to the window. Look below. See the forces gathered there.’

‘You have raised an army against me!’

‘We have raised an army, my lord, for your preservation and that of your realm.’

Gloucester came and stood beside them at the window.

‘There below you see men determined to fight for the right,’ he said, ‘but this is not a tenth of those that have risen to destroy those false traitors who have given you such ill counsel.’

Richard was trembling. ‘What would you have of me?’ he asked in a low voice.

‘That you come to Westminster that you may hear in Parliament the accusations which shall be brought against those who have put this realm in danger by their wicked counsel.’

He knew that he was beaten. There was a cold rage in his heart against those five who had dared march towards him arms linked to show they stood firmly together against him.