Warwick: The Man Behind The Wars of the Roses

by Tony Riches

  She hugged him tightly. ‘It has been such a long time. You will see a difference in Margaret.’

  Richard crossed the room to the wooden cot to see his daughter. He had chosen to live in Megan’s simple cottage whenever he visited, so no one seemed surprised when it became obvious she was expecting his baby. He had worried about Megan as her time came near. Fortunately she had no problems delivering a strong and healthy baby. They named her Margaret, in honour of the queen who had made such a powerful impression on Richard despite her young age.

  Now little Margaret looked up at him with her mother’s eyes and smiled broadly at him. She was his greatest secret.

  ‘Can I pick her up?’

  ‘Yes, of course.’

  Richard carefully lifted his daughter from her cot. She felt heavier than he expected. He noticed she was wearing a thin cotton smock and wished he had thought to bring new clothes for her. He’d given Megan money for the care of their child and guessed she must be saving it, as there was no sign of it having been spent on anything in the cottage.

  ‘She’s going to be a strong girl.’

  ‘I can’t believe her first birthday is coming round so soon.’

  He laughed as his daughter tightly gripped one of his fingers with her tiny hand. ‘I wish I could spend more time here.’ He sat in one of the wooden chairs at the table with Margaret on his knee and watched as Megan finished her bread making. She kneaded the dough expertly, turning it and adding a little more flour before kneading it again.

  Megan glanced up at them as she worked and smiled at the sight of the two of them together. ‘How long are you here for?’

  ‘I can stay tomorrow. Then I have to ride to Alnwick.’

  ‘You’re going to the castle?’

  ‘This village is too close to the Percy lands. It’s time I talked to them.’

  ‘Have you heard something?’ She looked at him questioningly. ‘There’s been no trouble since the fire.’

  ‘I’ve been worried about your safety.’ He needed to share his concern. ‘You know they pay spies to report on our activities. It can only be a matter of time before they learn of our daughter.’

  Megan stopped kneading the dough. ‘Are we in danger?’

  ‘My father has been exchanging letters with Sir Henry Percy. I think they are both ready for a truce.’

  Megan covered the dough with a muslin cloth and placed it on the hearth to rise. ‘Why isn’t your father going to Alnwick in person?’

  ‘He was going to. I persuaded him to let me deal with this, so I could see you.’

  ‘Do you trust Sir Henry Percy?’

  ‘I’m not sure.’ Richard frowned. ‘He is married to my aunt Eleanor, one of my father’s sisters, so he is family in a way. The marriage was supposed to bring the families together.’ He looked at her. ‘I don’t have any choice, Megan. Even if I left a dozen men here full time to protect you, they could send a hundred whenever they wanted.’

  She poured him a tankard of dark ale. ‘You must be hungry?’ Without waiting for his answer Megan carved him thick slices from a cured ham and cut some of the rough bread she had baked earlier that morning. Although he was used to fine food in London, Richard preferred the simpler tastes of Northumberland and the freshness of butter melting on still warm bread.

  After they had eaten he told her about his long and difficult journey to Wales, where he had to protect the rights to his inheritance. He owned property in twenty counties but almost none of it came without problems. Richard knew it would take years to sort it all out. It seemed there was a claimant for every acre of land and each stone of every building.

  Megan wanted to know all about Wales, which she seemed to regard as a land impossibly far away and full of mystery. She had never been out of Northumberland. When he offered to set her up in a fine house in London, she turned him down immediately, even though as far as he knew there was nothing other than her birth to keep her in the north. He found her lack of education endearing and was unsurprised at how little she knew of the people or geography of Wales.

  Later they lay together in the darkness. Margaret was fast asleep, tired out. Megan held Richard close and asked the question he knew was going to come.

  ‘Have you told her?’

  ‘I was going to.’ He looked at her, trying to judge her reaction. ‘Then she told me she is with child. We have waited a long time, Megan. I hope it is a son.’

  She said nothing. Although the darkness meant he couldn’t see her eyes, he could sense her sadness.

  Richard broke the silence. ‘I started thinking about what she would do.’

  Megan sat up and he saw the outline of her body silhouetted in the moonlight from the small window. She had yet to fully regain her figure after Margaret was born and her once girlish breasts were now full and heavy from feeding their daughter.

  ‘What could she do?’ Her voice was softer this time and she sounded worried.

  ‘She could make me promise to stop seeing you.’

  ‘How can she?’

  He struggled to answer. ‘I am married to her, Megan. Although I was too young to even know what I was saying when I made my marriage vows, I am bound to her. If she makes me give my word, I have to honour it.’

  Megan lay back next to him. ‘You know how much I love you, Richard?’

  ‘Of course I do.’ He held her close. ‘I love you too.’

  She kissed him. ‘Sometimes I wish you were simply a tenant farmer, instead of an earl. Then you could live here all the time.’

  Richard laughed at the thought. ‘I would be so happy living here with you.’ He gently traced the smooth curve of her exposed breast with his finger, stopping as he reached the gold ring and a sapphire pendant she had on a silver chain around her neck. He had given the ring to her when Margaret was born. Megan stubbornly refused to wear it on her hand but he took some consolation from seeing she always wore it around her neck.

  Megan was fiercely independent and took great pride in her self-sufficiency, refusing to accept any money for herself, only reluctantly taking his gold coins for their daughter. He admired her for it and wondered if she had any idea of the value of the precious sapphire. It had cost him a small fortune and had been made into a pendant by one of the finest silversmiths in London.

  ‘You know I have duties and responsibilities?’ He looked into her dark eyes. ‘One day my visits will have to end.’

  She hugged him, ‘I know. I have always known.’ She kissed him again, more passionately this time. ‘Let’s make the most of the time we have together.’

  Richard reflected on that conversation as he rode to Alnwick. They had enjoyed an idyllic day together. He’d seen his daughter take a few faltering steps, nearly falling over then looking pleased with herself as she found her balance. He repaired the wooden shutters on the windows of the cottage which suffered in the winter storms and wouldn’t close properly. It felt good to live the simple life of a villager, even if only for one day. It saddened him to know his double life could not continue for much longer. His father would probably understand but Anne would almost certainly insist on him swearing to end the affair.

  Their daughter woke them in the night with her crying and he had watched as Megan comforted her. Despite her northern toughness he admired so much, there was a softer side to Megan and he heard her sobbing when she thought he was sleeping. Although she was smiling as she waved him goodbye, when he turned in his saddle for a last look, she was wiping a tear from her eye.

  ‘The castle is ahead, my lord.’ Tully interrupted his thoughts.

  Richard saw the high turrets emerging through the trees in the distance. He turned to his men. ‘Remember we are here to agree a truce. You need to be vigilant. No drinking and definitely no fighting, understood?’

  His men followed him down the long straight road approaching the castle, which controlled an important crossing over the river. A flock of noisy seagulls wheeled overhead, their shrill cries reminding him they were not f
ar from the coast. The castle was an impressive sight. Even grander than Middleham Castle and more imposing, the banner of the Percy family flew proudly from the highest tower of their stronghold, a rampant blue lion on a golden field.

  Sir Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland, was waiting with a small group of men to greet them in person. Richard guessed he must have been alerted of their arrival by his sentries, as he could see men stationed along the battlements, watching them carefully. He realised they were as wary of him as he was of them. Sir Henry seemed older than Richard expected, with his hair and beard a silver grey and a stout figure from his enjoyment of fine living.

  ‘Sir Richard! Or should I address you as Earl Warwick?’ His booming northern voice sounded condescending to Richard.

  ‘Good day, Sir Henry.’ Richard rode up to where Sir Henry Percy was waiting and dismounted, signalling for his men to do the same.

  ‘You’ve grown since I last saw you, Richard.’ He grinned, revealing several missing teeth. ‘In importance as well as height.’

  ‘You could say that, Sir Henry. The Percy family has also done well.’

  ‘Yes, we have indeed. We have done better than we could have hoped.’ He admired Richard’s imposing black stallion. ‘A fine hunter, by the look of him?’

  ‘He’s served me well, Sir Henry.’ He patted his horse on the neck. ‘Well suited for the long distances I have to ride these days.’

  ‘I’ll have your men shown to the stables.’ Sir Henry gestured to one of the servants in his group. ‘You must come and meet your aunt Eleanor. I don’t believe you’ve seen her since you were a boy?’

  ‘I remember her well, Sir Henry.’ Richard followed them into the immense baronial hall of the castle, richly decorated with tapestries and a collection of huge antlers. Armed guards followed them into the room at a discreet distance and he realised Sir Henry was taking no chances. He was aware of how he had skilfully separated him from his own bodyguard, although there was nothing he could do about it without risking offence.

  Richard’s aunt was waiting to greet him and he kissed her hand. She was a tall woman, dressed in a long-sleeved emerald gown and wearing a veil of fine lace that made it hard for him to judge her mood. Younger women, also expensively dressed with tall hennin hats, who he guessed were her daughters, stood to each side of her.

  ‘I’d hardly have recognised you, Richard.’ She paused and looked at him more closely. ‘You’ve grown into a fine young man.’ Her voice was soft and sounded well educated, reminding him of his mother. She turned to the woman on her left, an attractively younger version of herself, who was accompanied by a knight Richard thought he recognised. ‘This is your cousin Lady Katherine and her husband Sir Edmund Grey.

  Richard kissed his cousin’s hand. ‘It is a pleasure to meet you Lady Katherine.’ He knew she was the same age as himself. He saw sharp intelligence in her eyes and was reminded he was under the closest scrutiny. He turned to her husband and greeted him with a smile. ‘Honoured, Sir Edmund. I believe I have seen you at court?’

  ‘Indeed you have, Earl Warwick, also at the council in Westminster.’

  Richard realised he could be useful ally in the Percy stronghold. He turned to the other woman, a tall girl who fidgeted nervously as she waited. Richard studied her more closely and guessed she was about fifteen, although she could pass for older.

  His aunt introduced her. ‘And this is your cousin Anne.’

  ‘I am so pleased to meet you at last, Lady Anne.’ Richard kissed her hand and noticed how she blushed at the compliment. Of all of them, Anne was the one who looked most like his sisters. He had expected the meeting to be difficult but was glad he had come in person, as he doubted his father would have been bothered to describe the situation to him adequately.

  The thought of his father reminded him and he turned to Sir Henry. ‘My father sends his regards, Sir Henry.’

  ‘Tell him we will visit Middleham in the summer. We plan to stay in York and it is too long since I last saw your father and the Countess.’

  ‘I will, Sir Henry. He will be pleased to see you.’

  Richard was also pleased. Many years had passed since the two of them had met and this would mark his visit to the Percy stronghold as a success. He was going to be too busy sorting out the lands he had inherited to spend much time travelling to the far north to deal with family problems.

  Sir Henry gave him a tour of the castle and proudly showed him the battered shield thought to have belonged to his great grandfather, Sir Henry ‘Hotspur’ Percy, who died fighting King Henry IV. He had been waiting for the right moment to raise the reason for his visit and it seemed appropriate to discuss it now as they stood in front of the historic shield.

  ‘The king is displeased with the feuding between our families, Sir Henry.’

  ‘Yes, he has written to me.’

  Richard studied the old shield, the symbol of the Percy determination to fight, even against overwhelming odds, for what they thought was right. Plate armour had made shields like that virtually obsolete, so it belonged to a bygone era. He decided Sir Henry would appreciate directness.

  ‘I came here to agree a truce.’ He looked at the earl, who had been on the council overseeing the care of the king when he was an infant. ‘It would reflect well on us all if you can agree to end the feud between us.’

  Sir Henry sighed. ‘You have my word, Richard. I’ll do what I can.’

  ‘And your sons?’

  Sir Henry didn’t answer. He stared at the ancient shield.

  ‘Can you ask them to honour a truce?’

  Sir Henry’s mood changed. ‘I cannot, sir, be held accountable for the actions of my sons!’ His raised voice took Richard by surprise.

  ‘Let us hope then, sir, they share my wish to see an honourable peace between our families.’

  Sir Henry seemed to have recovered his composure. ‘Yes.’ He looked at Richard. ‘I’ll drink to that.’

  The tone of his voice made it clear the discussion was over. He led Richard to see the new cannon he had personally commissioned from the forge master. The powerful weapon was the grandest Richard had ever seen and would need several men to load the heavy oversized cannon balls. He was certain he was being shown it for a reason.

  Later that evening they sat down to a fine banquet in the great hall of the castle. Sir Henry was determined to leave a good impression. Richard sat to his right, next to his cousin Katherine, who looked beautiful in a rich blue velvet gown set off with a diamond necklace which flashed in the candlelight as she moved.

  The table was set with fine silver and porcelain and skilled musicians played tunefully in a gallery. The centrepiece of the banquet was a large wild boar with long white tusks, roasted whole. The feast included every type of game bird and a wide range of exotic delicacies. This was so different from the bleak picture of life in the castle he had imagined from his father’s account of his visit there long ago. He wondered if it had been planned for his benefit.

  Whenever his goblet was empty a servant appeared to refill it with strong red wine. Richard knew he must keep a clear head, although the warmth of the wine improved his mood.

  He turned to his cousin. ‘Lady Katherine, how are your brothers Henry and Thomas?’

  ‘Henry spends much of his time in London and my brother Thomas is busy safeguarding the Scottish border.’ She placed her hand softly on his arm. ‘I am glad you and your father are seeking peace with our family, Earl Warwick, although I fear my brothers would not agree.’

  Richard sensed amusement in her eyes and was conscious of her hand still resting on his arm. She was an attractive woman and he found the physical contact unexpectedly arousing. He glanced to see if her husband was watching. He seemed to be in deep conversation with his younger cousin Anne, who was seated to his right. In a flash of insight he realised Lady Katherine had contrived to be seated next to him at the banquet.

  He tried to compose himself and answer her. ‘Why is that?’

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bsp; ‘I think you know the answer.’ She looked at him appraisingly. ‘I will tell you anyway. For my brother Henry it is a matter of honour. He is to inherit all of this.’ She looked around the great hall as if seeing it for the first time. ‘Thomas inherits nothing. He has little to lose in remaining a thorn in the side of the Neville family, who have done so much harm to us in the past.’

  Autumn leaves were falling by the time Anne’s baby was due. Richard had an entire wing of Warwick Castle specially furnished for her confinement and they moved there from Middleham as summer drew to a close. His mother made the journey south to be with her at the birth and Richard engaged the best midwives and physicians from the royal court. She was radiantly healthy and he had no concerns about the birth, only that it had to be a boy.

  He took no chances, making Anne start her confinement early and ensuring no one with any kind of illness was allowed near her. He had waited seven long years for this moment. His father would be so proud to have an heir at last. Richard had seen what could happen when there was no male line to inherit. Titles and estates could be swept away. Everything his father had worked for could be lost if he failed to have a son. There had been so many false hopes he’d begun to wonder if Anne was capable of conceiving a child. At least he knew he was capable of fathering one.

  She was sitting in a chair by the window in her room. Her long, auburn hair, normally tied back and covered, was combed down in the way she knew Richard liked. It reminded him for a moment of the young girl he first knew. His eyes went to her bulging belly. Although she was wearing a loose silk gown it did little to conceal her condition.

  Anne turned to Richard as he came into the room. ‘The midwife saw me this morning and said I am near my time.’

  ‘Good.’ He looked at her bulging dress. ‘I’ll be glad when this waiting is over.’

  ‘So will I, Richard.’ She looked out of the window at the last of the summer sun. ‘I am tired of this room. I miss our rides together.’ She turned to him. ‘I even miss the noise and dirt of the city.’