Виктория Холт - The Reluctant Queen

"What does this mean, Isabel?"

"George says it means that as soon as the dispensation arrives we shall be married, whatever the king says."

"It could cause terrible trouble."

"It is what our father wants."

"Has it occurred to you that our father no longer has the power he once had?"

"Don't talk so about our father. It's disloyal."

"It's the truth."

She laughed at me.

"I should not be afraid to marry without the king's consent, even if you would."

"Oh, Isabel," I said.

"I hope it will not come to that."

"I can tell you this." she said.

"We have seen the last of Richard. George says he will stand by Edward. He will do nothing of which the king does not approve. So he will not be coming to Middleham again."

"I know.""How different George is! George is bold and adventurous. When George makes up his mind, no one is going to stop him, and he is determined to marry me."

I had seen the look in George's eyes, and I feared he was determined to do many things besides marry Isabel.

The shadows deepened. My mother was constantly apprehensive of what would happen next; and I shared her feelings.

Isabel was living in a world of dreams, I believed. George was often with her. They would talk, laugh, ride together and plan for the future. I did wonder whether George was in love with her or her fortune and what my father could do for him.

It sobered me a little to remember that I, too, was a great heiress. Our father must be the richest man in the country and to whom could he leave his wealth but to his two daughters? Yet Richard did not seek me in spite of my fortune. He was above all loyal to the king.

There came an alarming day when guards arrived at the castle. There was shocked tension throughout the place when we heard they had come to conduct my father to the king. Certain charges had been made against him and he must answer them.

My father was furious. This was the greatest insult. He demanded to know what the charges were.

He was told that, when the army was storming one of the Lancastrian castles, a man had been captured and, probably under threat, had declared that my father was scheming to bring Henry back to the throne after he had deposed Edward.

At this time this was an absurd accusation, for although my father had decided to withdraw his support from Edward, he had no intention of restoring Henry, for if he did there would be Margaret of Anjou to contend with, and she would be more difficult to handle than Edward could ever be.

I realised then that at the back of his mind was an idea of replacing Edward with George, Duke of Clarence who, by that time, would be his son-in-law.

However, that plan was in its early stages and my father wasincensed that he should be accused of something of which he was not guilty.

It amazes me, looking back, how easy-going Edward was and always had been. I suppose he could have arrested my father, but, in view of my father's power particularly in the north that could have meant the starting of a civil war; but Edward was forever placatory.

When my father refused to leave, the king sent back a messenger this time. Would the Earl of Warwick be kind enough to confront his accuser, just to show those who might be ignorant enough to believe there might be truth in the rumours, that they were utterly false?

When this request was made my father graciously acceded to it. He saw his accuser, completely confounded him, and outwardly it now seemed that he and Edward were on better terms.

This was emphasised when my father agreed to accompany the king's sister Margaret to Burgundy where she was to marry Charles who, on the death of his father, had become the Duke of Burgundy.

We heard about that ceremonious journey. The people of London cheered the procession rapturously, for my father was at the head of it and they thought this implied peace between him and the king.

I think my mother was hopeful of complete reconciliation. She understood far more than we could what a rift between our father and the king could mean; she had seen enough war in her lifetime and I knew she prayed each night that that would not come back.

Alas for her prayers!

Our father returned from the journey with plans in his mind.

I heard, from our mother, about Margaret's wedding and I knew that, though our father made a show of affability, he was far from pleased.

He was in favour of friendship with France and for him to be on terms of amity with Louis' enemy Charles of Burgundy would certainly not please the King of France; and if he decided to depose Edward, help from France would be very necessary.

We listened avidly to our mother's account of the wedding festivities, gleaned from our father, of course. How the feasting had lasted for days. But what interested us most was the account of the great fire in a castle near Bruges when the new duchess and her husband were almost burned to death in their bridal bed. It must have been caused by some enemy who was not discovered.

My mother said: "How thankful I am that your father was not involved in the fire."

But there were other matters in which he was involved.

Clarence came to Middleham, which delighted Isabel although she was a little petulant because he spent so much time with our father. And while he was there we had another visitor: our Uncle George. Isabel was truly in a state of bliss. She was soon telling me why. She could never keep news to herself, although I believe she had been sworn to secrecy.

"Uncle George has the dispensation from Rome," she told me.

"There is now no longer any reason why we should not be married."

"Only that you haven't the king's consent," I reminded her.

Isabel snapped her fingers a gesture learned from George. She looked smug.

"What do we care about that?" she replied.

She was smiling secretly. I wondered what that meant.

We were to prepare to leave. We were going to Calais. My father, who was Captain of Calais, wanted to test the defences there. It was a perfectly legitimate reason. Why should he not take his family with him? A man liked to have his family about him and there were so many occasions when it was necessary to leave them.

Uncle George accompanied us, which was significant.

We were excited at the prospect of going on such a journey, but all of us were dreading the sea crossing.

We came south, attracting as little attention as possible, and stayed at various castles on the way with friends of my father, of course. He and the men always shut themselves away and talked with great seriousness.

In due course we crossed the Channel, which to our relief was less turbulent than it might have been, and we arrived not too battered at Calais. I had been there before, when I was very young, and what I remembered most from those days was the lighthouse, Tour de Guet, which I saw as we approached the land.

There was a welcome for us at Calais. My father, as captain of the place, was no stranger to the people, for although it was wellfortified for it was known as the Gateway to the Continent and was of the utmost importance to England the people were a little uneasy as to what would happen to them if the French decided to invade. Sieges were some of the most distressing aspects of war: so the fact that that he mighty Earl of Warwick had arrived to check the defences reassured them.

We were lodged in the castle and the first matter to demand everyone's attention was the wedding of Isabel to the Duke of Clarence.

A .thread of misgiving ran through all these preparations. Young as I was, I was aware of it. I thought a great deal about Richard during those days and memories of our friendship saddened me. I knew that the difference between the king and my father were growing more serious with the passing of every week. I would have to be on my father's side and Richard on that of Edward. So we would be enemies. Such situations do arise between friends in the event of civil war.

I tried to share in Isabel's excitement. This was her wedding and she was marrying the man she loved which was rare for girls in our position so it was really a matter for rejoicing in many ways. But there were sinister undertones and Isabel, in her exuberance, threw a little light on what was in my father's mind.

She chattered a great deal about her wedding dress and the entertainments which would follow the ceremony.

"As soon as it has been performed." she said, "I shall Duchess of Clarence ... wife of the king's brother!"

"I do hope it will be all right, Isabel," I said.

"Of course it will be all right."

"You had to come a long way to get married." She laughed.

"It was a great adventure, was it not? I'll tell you something. I shall be more than the wife of the king's brother."

"How can you be?"

She smiled at me, then pursed her lips as though she were holding in a secret. I feigned indifference which I knew from experience was the quickest way to get her to tell me.

"I could be Queen of England."

"And I could be the Angel Gabriel."

"Don't blaspheme!" she said severely, which amused me, coming from her.

I be the I still pretended not to be particularly interested and she burst out: "It could seem that Edward is not the rightful king after all."

"What do you mean? He is the eldest son of the Duke of York and York's claim to the throne is ..."

"I know, I know. That's what people think." She came close to me and whispered: "Some are saying that Edward is not the legitimate son of the Duke of York."

"But his mother is ... the Duchess ..."

"Women do not always give birth to their husband's children."

"What are you talking about?"

"Well, they are saying that the duke was away fighting and so the duchess had ... friends. Well, one of these was Edward's father."

I gasped in disbelief.

"It cannot be," I stammered.

"What do you mean: it cannot be! What do you know about it? It can be ... and it is," The Duchess of York. She ... she's quite regal. They call her Proud Cis because her name is Cecily. She is our father's aunt."

"What has that to do with it? I tell you it is so, Edward is not the duke's son. Therefore he has no claim to the throne ... and George is the real king."

"What does our father say?"

"He thinks George should be king."

I stared at her. I simply did not believe this. It was some story George had invented in the hope of putting himself on the throne.

"How can you be sure?" I demanded.

"Proud Cis herself said so."

"When...?"

"When Edward married the Woodville woman. She was so angry because he had demeaned himself. Then she said: "It does not surprise me. You are not king. You were not the son of your father."

"Why haven't we heard this before?"

"Because it was hushed up."

"Then why bring it up now?"

"Well, these things come out. You cannot be sure when."

"It's absolute nonsense. No one will believe that of the Duchess of York."

"Of course they'll believe it. The duke was often away fighting somewhere. You don't understand these things. Older people will."

"I do not think anyone will believe it except those who want to." I felt very shaken. I knew it was a conspiracy and my father was involved in it.

A few days later my Uncle George, Archbishop of York, performed the ceremony of marriage and my sister Isabel became the Duchess of Clarence.

My mother was growing increasingly alarmed. I wished she would talk to me. Isabel was a blissful bride; and as for Clarence, he gave himself such airs that he might have been already the king. I began to dislike him more and more. He was handsome, it was true, and had a certain ease of manner. He had charm like his brother Edward, but there was something good about Edward. He might be self-indulgent, sexually insatiable as they said, but there was an innate kindness of which I detected no trace in Clarence. Richard was entirely different from either of them. But then he was unique. There was no one like Richard.

The situation was growing dangerous. An attempt to depose a king and set another up in his place would surely mean civil war. There was already one in progress between the Houses of York and Lancaster, and although there were intermittent periods of peace, the conflict rose from time to time and was always hovering over the country. But this would be a new situation. My father was hesitating. He was too wily to plunge headlong into that which I was sure Clarence was longing for. He was obsessed by the notion of snatching his brother's crown and placing it on his own jaunty head. Did my father think that he would be able to guide Clarence? The king's marriage had shown him that he could no longer control Edward. But would Clarence prove any easier?