“What do you mean?”

“Owen Tudor, of course.”

I was terrified, for she was right.

“Yes,” she went on. “He is the one they would blame. You…well, you might be shut away in a convent…away from the world. But wardrobe clerks who aspire to queens…well, I would not want to dwell on what might happen to him. Mon Dieu!They could call it treason.”

That sobered me.

And Guillemote was satisfied. She had made me pause to think.

· · ·

For a few days I would not see him. Then, when I came upon him, he looked so doleful that I asked myself why I was listening to Guillemote’s dismal prophecies.

Owen said: “It is days since I have seen you.”

“I have been afraid,” I told him. “Guillemote knows.”

“Does she? She would keep our secret.”

“She is completely loyal…but she talked to me.”

“You are on such familiar terms that I am not surprised.”

“She is worried about what will happen if we are discovered.”

“She has a point there,” he agreed.

“They would separate us…and Owen…what charge would they bring against you?”

“Whatever it was, I should count everything worthwhile.”

“It must never be,” I said quickly.

“We must be doubly careful and make sure that we are not discovered.”

“Everything she says is because of her care for me, I know.”

“Perhaps I should go away.”

“You could not. I should forbid it.”

“How did Guillemote discover?”

“She said it was the way I looked.”

“You are beautiful…always.”

“People in love betray themselves sometimes, Owen. I listened to her. She made me fear for you.”

He was silent.

“I could not bear it if anything should happen to you, Owen.”

“I will take the utmost care to preserve myself for you.”

I knew it was useless. We could not stay away from each other. It had begun and it must go on.

So through all the days my thoughts were of Owen; and all through the nights we were together.

We lived in a state of bliss. This was the most wonderful experience which had ever befallen me. I had not known there could be anything like it, and I marveled to contemplate that, if Owen had never come my way, I should have lived my life without it. I had thought I loved Henry, but now I realized that that had been a pale shadow of this exciting relationship.

Henry’s kingship, his need to conquer, had been the driving force of his life. To him love was a light adventure, pleasurable and rewarding in a way but something apart from the main purpose of life. Whereas I was everything to Owen and he to me. Not only was there this all-absorbing, awe-inspiring passion but there was the need for secrecy which gave an added excitement.

There were times, of course, when I wished that we could live in peaceful harmony, openly and unafraid, but the fact that we were living dangerously, in those early days, did add a thrill of which we could not be unaware.

I was not cut off from my son. I was allowed to visit him. It was not like living under the same roof, but at least I could assure myself that he was not unhappy. Dame Alice was a good, serious-minded woman, determined to do her duty; and Henry appeared to accept her.

It was clear to me that Joan Astley was ready to devote that loving care to her charge which the best nurses give unstintingly, and I could see that he was safe in her hands. She would protect him and if—which I fervently hoped would not be the case—Dame Alice felt at times that she wished to avail herself of the permission to chastise him, Joan Astley would be there to comfort him.

Henry showed his pleasure in seeing me and was not overdistressed when I left—a fact which both saddened me and made me rejoice.

Guillemote, who had accompanied me on the visit, said: “It is not as bad as we feared. He will be happy enough and he will not forget us.”

“A child should be with his mother,” I insisted.

“There would be many people around to watch us…if he were with you,” she reminded me.

She was right, of course. She was worried about me—which I realized she had good reason to be.

Owen was still a soldier at heart; his life had been governed by the war in France and he was very interested in how it was progressing. He listened avidly to the news of what was happening across the seas as well as in England.

Neither of us wanted to look too far ahead. Each of us knew that if our relationship was discovered we should be in trouble…deep trouble. Marriage would be out of the question, I was sure.

I should be disgraced and Owen would be accused of treason. That worried me a great deal; but in the first flush of our passion I could think of little else but the joys of the moment.

There were times when we lay in bed when Owen would whisper to me of what was going on in France.

“It is always dangerous,” he said, “when a country extends its dominions. Communications have to be kept up. Armies have to be sent to guard the outposts. It is never easy. If the King had lived …”

“If the King had lived,” I retorted, “we should not be here now…like this.”

He was silent. He had a great reverence for Henry. I think he was deeply concerned that he had become Henry’s widow’s lover.

“The Duke of Bedford is very good, they say,” I said.

“There was only one King Henry V, and he was the greatest soldier the world has ever known.”

“What do you think will happen now, Owen?”

“I think the Duke of Gloucester will make a great deal of trouble.”

I shivered. “I am afraid of Gloucester.”

“He is a man to be watched. But now he is going to Hainault with a company of men to fight for his wife’s rights…so he will be out of our way.”

“I hope he will stay there. Do you think he will regain Hainault? It was what he married for. Poor Jacqueline. I wonder if she knows?”

“I feel she must. Or it may be that she prefers to delude herself. But from our point of view it is good that he has gone. As far as England is concerned, I believe what he has done may prove disastrous.”

“You mean his quarrel with Burgundy?”

“The Duke of Bedford will do everything within his power to keep the alliance with Burgundy, but it seems as though his brother will do everything he can to destroy it.”

“Gloucester thinks only of his own good.”

“Which is what he is doing now. He will jeopardize the English and Burgundian alliance for the sake of regaining his wife’s estates for himself. It is unfortunate that the Duke of Brabant is the Duke of Burgundy’s kinsman. This could well cost England Burgundy’s friendship, and that is something they cannot afford to lose.”

“At least he is out of the country. I have for a long time had a feeling that he is against me. I feel afraid for little Henry while he is here. He wants to be King of England, and there are others in the way. Clarence died. There is Bedford, of course…and now he has married and strengthened his alliance with Burgundy through his marriage to the Duke’s sister. But if Bedford died without heirs…and if something happened to Henry…then Gloucester would be King of England. I cannot bear to think of that.”

“It could not get to that,” said Owen. “I do not know what the outcome of all this will be, but of one thing I am sure, and that is that Gloucester, by his conduct, is putting the alliance between England and Burgundy in jeopardy.”

“Let us forget all about them,” I begged. “Gloucester is far away. He is not concerned with us now. And we have found each other. Swear that you will never leave me.”

“Not of my own free will, my dearest.”

“Then I am happy.”

Henry, Bishop of Winchester, called to see me.

The visit of such a man must necessarily alarm me. I was constantly wondering whether my relationship with Owen had been discovered beyond my intimate circle, and what the consequences would be, so I received him with a good deal of trepidation.

He was gracious, very dignified, very much aware of his royalty and position in the country. He made me feel that it was an honor for him to visit me.

I hoped I did not show my anxiety, but if I did, I supposed he would attribute it to my realization of the honor he did me.

Henry had thought very highly of him. He had said to me once: “My uncle has enough dignity to balance his illegitimacy, for although my father most wisely legitimized him, the fact does remain that he was born before his parents’ union was sanctified by the Church. He cannot forget this, and it irks him, so we must forgive him that little extra dignity he has to exercise to remind us all that he is equal with the highest in the land.”

I thought that summed up Henry Beaufort exactly.

Henry had said he was a good man to have working for him; he was exceptionally intelligent; he knew that allegiance to the Crown would serve his best interests, and therefore he was loyal to the Crown. “But I trust Beaufort,” Henry had said, “and I have always known he was a good man to have on my side.”

Beaufort was a man who would stand up for what he considered best for the country, while making sure, if it were possible, that what was done was profitable for himself.

His recent quarrel with Gloucester had shown that Gloucester held great power, particularly while his brother Bedford was in France acting as Regent there for young Henry. Yet Beaufort had made no secret of his disapproval of Gloucester’s marriage to Jacqueline of Hainault because he knew it would be detrimental to the alliance with Burgundy, which was all-important to England, even though this created great antagonism between the two men and could be harmful to him.

I told him that I was well and said I trusted he was in the same happy state.

He assured me that he was and then came to the point of his visit.

“Your Grace will be aware that His Highness the Duke of Gloucester is causing some dismay abroad.”

“I know he has gone to Hainault to regain his wife’s estates.”

“His wife!” said Beaufort. “There is some doubt that she is that.”

“Did not the Pope grant her a divorce?”

“The Duke of Brabant does not accept that. There are many who say she is still married to him and that the alliance with the Duke of Gloucester is no marriage at all.”

“But he has gone …”

“I regret to say that the actions of the Duke have been…quite dangerous…to me…to the whole country…and perhaps in particular to his brother the Duke of Bedford who is striving to consolidate the great victories won for England by the late King.”

“I have heard of this,” I said, great relief sweeping over me, for I realized he had not come to talk of my affairs. I had been in terrible fear that he might have come because he had heard something about Owen and me.

“I have done all in my power to stop his leaving for the Continent,” went on the Bishop, “but I have not been successful in doing so.”

I was wondering why he should be telling me all this, for I was sure that, like most of his kind, he would think the opinion of a woman not worth having.

He went on: “The Duke of Gloucester has taken Hainault. There was no opposition. The Duke of Brabant was unable to prevent this. Hainault has now recognized Gloucester as its ruler.”

“Then there will be no fighting,” I said.

He looked at me with faint contempt. “The Duke of Burgundy will certainly not allow this to pass unchallenged. He is hurrying to the assistance of his kinsman. You misunderstand the gravity of this situation. In order to go to Brabant’s assistance it was necessary for Burgundy to conclude a truce with France. You can guess what that means.”

“The English are losing their ally.”

He was silent for a moment. Then he said: “Now I come to the point of my visit. The Duke of Burgundy has challenged the Duke of Gloucester to single combat…a duel between the two of them to settle the dispute.”

“Surely not!”

“But indeed it is so, and the Duke of Gloucester has accepted the challenge. I know it seems incredible, but it is so. That duel must not take place. If it does, one or the other will be killed. You can guess the consequences. If Gloucester kills Burgundy, the Burgundians will be in revolt against him; and if Burgundy kills Gloucester, it will be the same from the other side. One thing is certain: it will be the end of the alliance between Burgundy and England. And that alliance is of the greatest importance to our success in France.”