A Rose for the Crown

by Anne Easter Smith

  Tears rolled down Kate’s cheeks. She imagined Johnny and Geoff in the same situation, watching horrors and not knowing if they were about to die. She snuggled closer to Richard, wrapping her arms around him as if to keep him safe.

  “It was months before my mother knew where the duke, my father, had gone. Or my brothers. George, Meggie and I were sent into the Archbishop of Canterbury’s care, and for a year I had my nose stuck in schoolbooks. I did not realize that I was a prisoner, because his grace, the archbishop, was kind when he saw us, but I wondered why we were there.”

  Kate heard about Richard’s father and Edmund lying low in Ireland while Salisbury, Warwick and Edward gathered a force in Calais during the winter months. In the dismal, wet summer of 1460, the Calais army landed in Kent and routed the king’s forces at Northampton.

  Richard chuckled. “Poor King Henry. He was still sitting in his tent when the battle ended and was easily captured and taken back to London. Then my mother came and fetched us and took us there, too. Not long afterwards, my father rode into the city. It was a magnificent sight to see—the people all cheering him, and he smiling and waving—such a difference from the last time I saw him. I was so proud, the three of us children jumped up and down and hugged one another.”

  “But he was not a king, Richard. Why did the people cheer him as if he were?”

  “He acted like one, I suppose, because he thought he should be king. He marched into the palace and demanded the crown from Henry directly to his face, on his throne. Edward told us all this and said everyone was very angry, but finally they agreed to recognize him as Henry’s heir.”

  “I remember this!” Kate abruptly sat up, causing Richard’s head to flop onto the pillow. “I remember Cousin Richard telling the story at Ightham. It does not seem possible that I am now talking to that man’s son.”

  “You are doing more than talking to him, Kate. You are loving him, are you not?” Richard reminded her. She bent and kissed him on the mouth, and Richard could not resist her. It did not matter that she had cut his story off just before his father’s demise. He did not need to relive that grisly moment. He buried his unhappy memories in Kate’s loving embrace.

  DESPITE HIS YOUTH, Richard already possessed the air of a leader, Kate noticed with pride. She watched him from the solar window walking with Jack along the tree-lined road to the kennels in the field in front of the house. Richard was doing most of the talking. Every now and then, Jack would nod or bow his head in assent. As they arrived back at the house, Richard put his hand on Jack’s arm in a gesture of friendship, and Jack gave another low bow.

  Kate knew exactly what they were discussing. She cast her mind back to early that morning, before she had slipped back to her own chamber.

  “Wake up, Kate!” Richard gently shook her awake. She had been startled when she saw Richard’s face above hers and for a moment forgot where she was. A slow, sleepy smile spread over her face as she remembered.

  “My love, I need to talk to you, and then you must leave for fear of compromising our hosts.”

  “Ha! We would not shock Margaret, in truth. ’Twas she who first suggested we become lovers, Richard, not three hours before we did!” Kate laughed at his slack jaw. “What would you talk to me about?”

  “I have been thinking about us. It is plain to me that I must see you if and when I can, but it will not be easy if you will not come with me. You are certain you will not come? I would take care of you. You would have everything you need, you know that.”

  Kate slipped her shift back over her head, got out of bed and began braiding her hair. Richard made it sound easy. “Everything you need,” she repeated to herself. But would it be worth sacrificing her pride and her principles? Certes, there would be fine clothes, jewels, luxurious apartments and last but not least Richard. What would happen to her if he tired of her or if he married and his lady sent her packing? How would she hold up her head with her family and her friends? She would be forever known as Gloucester’s whore. What man would want her after that except for one looking for an easy roll between the sheets? She weighed her burgeoning love for Richard and her need to be loved against the moral standards set for her at her simple but decent beginnings. If she could have Richard and yet keep her dignity, she might compromise. She decided she would consider a liaison, but only on her terms. She took a deep breath and faced him.

  “Aye, Richard. I know you would look after me. But I also know I have no wish to be known as your leman. We are sure of what we feel, but as soon as those in your world should know I am a wife—and so an adulteress—tongues will wag, and I could not hold up my head. What of Father and Mother Haute? Mayhap they would be happy to have a connection at court, but in their hearts I would be a grave disappointment to them, and I honor them too much to bring shame on their name.” She paused and looked at him. “And I also honor you too much, my lord. You do not seem to me to be a man who would flaunt a mistress.”

  Richard jumped out of bed and lifted her high in the air. “Kate, my dear, you do make me ache for love of you!” He put her down and cupped her chin. “If you could see yourself now, there is no man who could not love you! You are a flower—nay, a rose—and fit for a king, not a lowly duke like me! How could I or anyone not respect your honor after such a pretty speech? Well done, my rose! This is how we shall proceed, for I will have you, Kate, make no mistake.” Kate blushed. “If you must, stay with George and play the dutiful wife. But you will pledge your love to me and I to you. If you do, I shall make sure we are together as often as I can arrange. My service to my lord of Warwick is ending, and I fear I must soon choose between my duty to him and my love and loyalty for my brother. Until then, I am free to come and go from court, and you are but a day’s hard ride from London.

  “I have decided to enlist the help of Sir John. He is as honest and trusty a man as I could want in time of need. He has served Edward well, and”—Richard cupped her face in his hand—“I can see he loves you dearly as well. I think he will aid our cause. What say you? Shall we entrust our secret to Jack and have him be our go-between?”

  Kate nodded eagerly. She had not dared to hope Richard would want to continue seeing her after giving him such conditions, and here he was planning more meetings as if they were important secret missions. He pulled a silver ring off his little finger, took her hand and placed it on her palm. “A token of my love. I can promise you fidelity until such time as I must marry as my rank demands.”

  Kate looked at the ring and contemplated his words. “And then what?” she whispered. “Shall we be parted for ever?”

  “Aye, Kate. When that day comes, we will need to part, for I cannot make a vow before God to a wife and still bed you. I pray you will uphold me in this.”

  Kate did not point out to him that she was doing exactly that and briefly wondered if in his mind her lower station meant her vows were less important. But this was not the moment to quibble, she decided, she was too happy.

  “I understand, Richard. And I pledge you my fidelity with all my heart and my whole body. I am yours, and even when I will not be yours, I shall love you and cherish this time together.” Kate kissed the ring and placed it on her index finger. She looked across at him. “I must go now.”

  She was still remembering the conversation and fingering the ring when Margaret entered the solar and saw her sitting pensively on the window seat. She took Kate’s hand.

  “Come, Kate. Jack would speak with you.” As Margaret led the way out of the room, she whispered, “Am I right in thinking you took my advice of yesterday? You look like the cat that lapped all the cream, in truth!”

  Kate smiled. “Aye, Margaret. You may not believe it, but Richard loves me as I do him. And ’tis thanks to you that I came to understand the feelings I was having. When he kissed me, I knew. But hush, here are the gentlemen.”

  Jack walked forward to take Margaret’s arm, and Richard gave Kate a conspiratorial nod and smile. He held out his arm for her to take, and Jack
led the way to his office. Kate had not entered Jack’s sanctuary before and looked around with interest. A sword in its shining scabbard lay on a chest under a small window. Another chest with the Howard coat of arms carved on the front was scattered with drawings, presumably of the tower. The central table was covered with a Turkey rug, tall candelabra, a pile of vellum and several quills. Tom Moleyns and John Braham were consulting a large roll of parchment covered in tiny script.

  “My household books, Kate. I see you are curious. I am a notorious penny-pincher, am I not gentlemen?” Jack asked the two men bent over the accounts. Braham’s wrinkled face looked grave and he bowed in assent. Tom looked anxious. He did not want to criticize his master. But Jack laughed and waved them on. “I am jesting, Tom, have no fear. Richard, I recommend the keeping of household records heartily. They have made me what I am today by telling me exactly where my expenditures are.”

  Richard went to study the document and was impressed by the detail. On one line was the amount paid for a pair of boots from the cordwainer who delivered them and on another “twopence for ale for said cordwainer.”

  “Tom, John, I must talk with our guests in private,” Jack said, opening the door. The men bowed and left the room.

  “There are no secrets among us, I trust,” Jack said, quizzing Margaret, Richard and Kate in turn. He was not sure how to proceed and twirled his long mustache while he thought. There was an awkward pause. “I am pledged to be my lord duke’s messenger in this . . . this . . . delicate matter. Margaret, too, will help in any way she can. Richard, you may count on our discretion entirely.”

  Kate was a trifle embarrassed by the intimacy of the conversation, and Richard, too, was uncomfortable. Margaret instinctively took charge and rescued her husband by coming straight to the point.

  “My lord duke, if you wish to correspond with Kate, you must send your letter to me. I will conceal it in a letter of my own to Kate and send a groom directly to Chelsworth. Kate will respond—as quickly as she is able”—Margaret’s mouth twitched and Kate looked sheepishly at the floor—“with a letter addressed to me. Jack will make sure you receive it. ’Tis so, Jack?”

  “Aye, wife, you have the measure of it.” Jack cheered up now that the ice had been broken. “But I have another proposition that may be fitting, if you would hear me.”

  Richard waved him on. “I would hear you, Sir John.” He stood apart from Kate, but he felt her all around him still.

  “There is a house in Chelsworth that has long stood empty. My tenants died and left no children. ’Tis on the corner of Sir Anthony Wing-field’s estate, and he has declared the acreage his, but only through marriage to one of my family. I have had it in mind to bring the house to Stoke park, brick by brick, for the possible use of one of my children—Nicholas, perhaps, when he should marry. But until such time as I have need of it here, it could be Kate’s—and George’s, when he is free to visit.”

  Kate could not believe her ears. Sir John was offering her a house of her own and so close to Margaret. More than that, she would be her own mistress and could discreetly entertain Richard whenever he was able to leave his duties. She lifted her shining eyes to Jack and Margaret. “Sir John, Margaret, you cannot be so kind. I do not deserve this—” She broke off as Richard strode forward and embraced Jack, giving him heartfelt thanks. He lifted Margaret’s hand to his lips and kissed it several times. She laughed and pulled it gently from his grasp.

  “My lord, ’tis we who are honored to serve you. To tell the truth, Jack and I are so much in love, we are happy to help other lovers, are we not, Jack?” Margaret took Jack’s arm. Jack was clearly embarrassed at this turn in the conversation and for once was at a loss for words.

  “I thank you both for your service. It shall not be forgotten, I swear to you.” Richard was serious again. “My brother shall know of your loyalty to me. No”—he saw an anxious look cross Jack’s face—“have no fear that I will tell my brother exactly why you have been so loyal, just that I had occasion to benefit from it. And speaking of my brother, ’tis high time I returned to his side and gave him my duty. I shall leave after the midday meal, if it please you, Lady Margaret. I will walk with Kate in the garden awhile if you would tell my squire to prepare for our departure.” Richard bowed, offering Kate his arm.

  But Kate had not yet given her thanks to the Howards. She patted his hand and then ran to first Margaret and then Jack to curtsy and give each a kiss.

  Out in the cold February air and wrapped in their cloaks, Richard and Kate spent a final half hour in each other’s company. Richard was true to his word that he would be discreet. He had two of his retainers accompany them on their walk and he did not touch her. They talked of mundane matters—the beauty of the countryside, the number of Jack’s flocks, his extensive kennels and the promise of an early spring. They were out of sight of the house and so did not see a horseman gallop full tilt into the stable yard and ask to be taken to Mistress Haute. Simon was taken into the house and in his muddy cloak and boots confronted Jack, who was talking to one of his gentlemen.

  Kate’s happiness was short-lived when she and Richard stepped back into the house fifteen minutes later. Margaret and Jack were looking distressed, and she saw Simon standing, disheveled, near the door.

  “What is wrong? What has happened?” Kate flew to Margaret, who took one of the girl’s cold hands in both of hers and spoke kindly.

  “’Tis little Robert, Kate. Martin’s groom has been sent to fetch you home to Chelsworth. Philippa fears the boy will not last the night and is in need of your remedies.”

  Kate was devastated. “I should not have left him, poor boy. I was certain he was on the mend. Oh, how selfish I have been.”

  Richard would have gone to console her but was aware of a dozen pairs of eyes on them all. He stood with Jack, looking concerned.

  “Do not be foolish, Kate. Fate cannot be denied. If ’tis God’s will Robert be taken, then it is his time. Perhaps you can ease his going or, who knows, make him well again. All is not lost yet.” Margaret’s motherly, pragmatic advice calmed Kate. “I have sent Molly to prepare your baggage. Edith! Pray tell the cook to wrap some bread and meat for Dame Katherine. She must leave immediately. Praise God, the weather is good. Fear not, my dear, I shall write to you very soon, and we shall all pray for Robert.”

  Those attendants within earshot crossed themselves, and Rose put her crucifix to her lips. Kate sent one longing look towards Richard, who smiled encouragement. Then she was flying up the stairs to her chamber. A few minutes later, Kate and Molly emerged, each carrying a bundle and Kate her harp. After swift good-byes to Jack, Margaret and the company, she was out of the house and hurrying to the stables. Molly was faster than Kate and disappeared around the side of the alehouse, calling to Simon to help her with the larger bundle. As Kate turned the corner, an arm reached out and pulled her into the alehouse doorway. Richard held her as close as her baggage would allow and kissed her softly. Before she could say a word, he had vanished back inside.

  ROBERT’S PALLOR FRIGHTENED KATE when she hurried to his bedside upon her return. Philippa and her maid, Brigid, were watching over him anxiously, and the fire in the solar was blazing, making the room almost stifling. Robert, by contrast, was shivering, and yet his forehead was damp with sweat. The pillow was wet around him, and judging from the rumpled sheets on the floor, the women had been trying to keep him dry for some time.

  “Kate, I am right glad to see you home,” Philippa cried, when she saw her daughter-in-law. She had not slept for two nights, and her eyes were ringed with exhaustion. Unemotional as she was, she had not given way to weeping and was calm but anxious.

  “How long has he been like this, Mother?” Kate bent and kissed Philippa’s cheek. “Pray what have you given him?”

  “He continued to cough after you left. The infusion you made helped a little with the cough, but then he became feverish. Poor little mite, he was drenched through hour after hour.” Philippa’s reserve was
beginning to dissolve, and Kate encouraged her to leave the room and get some rest in the upstairs chamber.

  “I will wake you as soon as there is a change, Mother, I promise. I will bring you up a posset as soon as I see what I can do for Robert.” Kate gently pushed her through the doorway. If Robert’s fever had broken, as it appeared to have done from his pallor and cold skin, why was he not getting well? she asked herself.

  She took over the sickroom, sending Brigid to the kitchen for a sharp, clean knife and a bowl. She had no knowledge of bloodletting, but she was quite sure this was what Robert needed. Brigid told her that Martin had still not returned from Coventry but Philippa had sent an urgent message to him. Kate knew she must get permission from Philippa to carry out the procedure, so she ran up the stairs to seek it. Philippa was lying fully clothed on the bed where Kate and George usually slept, but she had not yet fallen asleep. Quietly but firmly Kate explained what she believed was required, and Philippa’s stricken look told her the decision might not be forthcoming.

  “Kate, do you know what you are about? Where must you cut? Do you know how deep you must cut? Oh, no, I cannot take such a risk with my son’s life. If only Martin were here!” Philippa finally gave way to tears, and Kate took her in her arms and rocked her back and forth. “Let us wait until Martin comes, I pray you. I have been lying here praying to St. Christopher to bring him to us quickly. I am sorry, Kate, but I cannot take the chance. Martin will know what to do.”

  “Aye, Mother, I will do what you want. I own I have no experience of letting. It was but a desperate chance, that is all. We will wait for Father.”

  Crying had released Philippa’s tension, and she relaxed, lying back and closing her eyes. Kate crept from the room and down to the solar. Brigid was pressing a hot, wet cloth to Robert’s forehead, hoping to alleviate the boy’s shivers. His eyes were still closed. Brigid told Kate he had not wakened throughout the days of fever and even afterwards. His breathing was so shallow as to be almost imperceptible. Kate was nonplussed. Elinor had taught her well, but this malady was something she had not encountered before.