First of the Tudors

by Joanna Hickson

  On the ride back to Stepney I asked Jasper what could have persuaded Lady Margaret to permit this. He smiled proudly and said, ‘Harri did. He has power to charm the birds from the trees that boy. At present his mother can refuse him nothing. After they have spent some time at Woking we can pick him up from there on our way to Pembroke. It should all fit in very well.’

  Jasper left the following day to escort the king to Windsor. Now that he had been securely re-crowned, Henry had insisted that he leave his hated Westminster and spend some time in the relative peace and security of the realm’s mightiest fortress. Meanwhile I spent several days pondering whether or not to consult with Philippa Gardiner on the matter of Elin and Will. In the end I happened to meet her in the market on the green and decided to reciprocate her earlier hospitality by inviting the Gardiner family to sup with us the following night. While accepting for herself and Will, she revealed that her husband was away and so the opportunity for the private woman to woman talk, which Jasper had suggested, seemed impossible to ignore.

  After the cloth was removed we banished the four children to the other end of the hall and remained sitting at the trestle. Over the sound of their noisy game of ninepins we mulled some wine and spices and settled down together like two fountain gossips. As far as I could guess Philippa Gardiner was about my age, slim and dark and prone to wearing elaborately wired headgear, which gave the clever illusion of more height than she possessed. On this occasion her beautifully embroidered hat looked like a short steeple blunted at the tip and was covered by a gauzy veil, wired into a butterfly shape and secured at the front by an amethyst-headed pin. It provided the perfect topic to open the conversation.

  ‘You must give me the name of your headdress-maker, Philippa,’ I begged. ‘It is spectacular.’

  She laughed. ‘It is a fashion copied from Bruges. My husband bought the Hennin cap on his last trip there and I wired the veil myself. I am so glad you like it.’

  ‘Very much,’ I nodded. ‘And I noticed Elin admiring it too – when she could tear her gaze away from your son of course!’

  Philippa’s eyes gleamed with amusement. ‘Yes, they seem to like each other a good deal. It is very sweet.’

  ‘You do not disapprove then?’

  ‘No, not at all – why should I? Elin is a lovely girl and so pretty with her sunburst curls and ready smile.’

  ‘And with a very lively nature,’ I added wryly.

  ‘Life then can never be dull with her around,’ she said lightly.

  ‘That is true enough.’ I paused to take a sip of wine and summon my courage. ‘Elin’s father was very taken with Will also. He wants me to ask if you thought there might be the basis of a marriage between those two when they are older?’

  Observing closely, I thought I detected the gleam in my guest’s eyes change from amusement to speculation. ‘It might be worth considering,’ she said, apparently untroubled by my abrupt proposal. ‘Certainly I think it sensible to sort these things out sooner rather than later, before a boy gets too frisky, if you know what I mean?’ She cast an eloquent glance in my direction.

  ‘Something girls suffer from too, I assure you,’ I remarked.

  ‘I must take your word for that. I have not been blessed with more than my one dear child, but I would have loved to have a daughter; you are lucky to have two.’

  ‘But no son,’ I pointed out. ‘Which in the circumstances may be a good thing. The stain of bastardy can hamper a boy more than a girl, I think.’

  ‘Do you? Surely any child of an earl – especially one who has no legitimate heir – has only to retain the father’s favour to gain advantage from it.’

  So Philippa was impressed rather than alarmed by Jasper’s status, which boded well but rather than pursue that line I steered the talk on a more pertinent course. ‘I am no matchmaker but perhaps we should take steps to test this relationship further; Elin and Will have but recently met and have spent only short periods of time together. We leave for Pembroke at the end of the month, as you know. Would you think it presumption if I suggested that we give their friendship a more rigorous test? We would not want Will to miss his schooling in order to take him to Pembroke but …’ I hesitated.

  ‘If you mean would I welcome Elin as a guest while you are away, then I would say yes, of course,’ Philippa cut in, looking pleased. ‘I would love the chance to mother a daughter, especially one who may become just that.’

  I took a deep breath, wondering if I would be doing the best for Elin by handing her over to another woman? I consoled myself with the reminder that this was only to be for a short time. Besides I had developed respect and admiration for the Gardiner family over the weeks I had known them and could not imagine that they would treat her with anything but kindness. I also thought that Sian might benefit from not being constantly in the shadow of her elder sister. I had a panicky recollection of Lady Margaret putting her baby son into Jasper’s arms and then not seeing him again for nine years but told myself firmly that the situation was hardly similar.

  ‘I must talk to Elin about it first, before anything is made final,’ I said. ‘Although I think I do not need to tell you that I believe she will be thrilled and excited at the prospect.’

  ‘I do hope so.’ Philippa lifted her cup to make a toast. ‘And I must consult my husband of course, but let us drink to a closer relationship, Jane!’

  I touched my horn cup of mulled wine to hers and we both took a sip, eyes smiling at each other across the rim.

  At the other end of the hall there was a clatter of ninepins falling and a shout went up from two excited voices. Swivelling to look we saw Will linking elbows with Elin and swinging her around in a victory dance. ‘Oh well done, partner!’ he carolled. ‘We won!’

  It seemed a good omen for the future.

  47

  Jasper

  Windsor Castle

  IN THE PARLIAMENTARY ROLL King Henry’s return to the throne was termed a ‘readeption’, the Latin word adeptus meaning ‘having attained’, and the first Parliament of the readeption was a busy one, most of the business being to reverse the damage done by the York regime over the previous nine years. The Act changing the Pembroke lands from Herbert back to me was one of the first to be passed but the Richmond lands were another matter. Lady Margaret’s best efforts at persuasion had cut no ice with Warwick, who insisted that Edmund’s former estates should remain with his son-in-law, the Duke of Clarence. Therefore, with no revenue attached, Harri’s custody attracted no contention and eventually it was left to the Regents to decide. I had only to hint to Warwick that I might challenge his declaration of war on Burgundy and he agreed that Harri should return to my care.

  Having learned from Jane the arrangement she had made with Mistress Gardiner I paid another visit to The House of the Vine and asked William Vintner to draw up a betrothal contract, to be used in the event that all parties were in agreement after Elin’s stay with the Gardiners. ‘If the two families do eventually become united by marriage, then might be the time to take them into our confidence about my relationship to Meg, but that is for the future,’ I told him.

  When I revealed the sum of the dowry I intended to settle on my daughter he gave a low whistle. ‘That amount would compensate a Merchant Venturer for several cargos lost at sea. I should think the Gardiners will snap her up.’

  ‘I hope it will make them aware of her worth, but ultimately it is up to Elin whether she wishes to marry the boy,’ I reminded him. ‘I am not one to barter my daughter’s life away without her consent.’

  Consequently, when we left the house in Stepney Green to begin the journey to Pembroke, Elin was not with us. She had been thrilled by the Gardiners’ invitation to stay with them for Christmas and seemed unconcerned about missing the celebrations with her own family. Nothing was said to her about a possible betrothal. That would come later, if she proved willing.

  ‘I impressed on her the importance of being dutiful and polite towards Will’s parents and
helping Mistress Gardiner with household duties but I am not sure whether the message sank in,’ Jane admitted as we rode towards the city at first light. ‘Philippa may find she has taken a whirlwind into her home.’ She then broached a subject that had been troubling me rather more than Elin’s behaviour. ‘Will the queen be here in time for Christmas? Surely she must be satisfied since King Henry has been crowned again. That was more than a month ago; she should know about it by now.’

  ‘We are waiting to hear from her. King Henry may have word when I see him.’

  We crossed London Bridge and made our way through the busy suburbs on the Thames’ southern bank, passing the Bishop of Winchester’s palace at Southwark and the Archbishop of Canterbury’s at Lambeth before cutting across the great commons of Wandsworth and Wimbledon and following the River Mole into the downlands of Surrey. Woking Palace could be reached in a day from London, even when the days were winter short, and we arrived at the torchlit gatehouse at dusk. Although it had meant making a detour, I wanted to collect Harri from Lady Margaret before going to Windsor, as I thought my brother would appreciate a visit from us both before Christmas. I also hoped Queen Marguerite and Prince Édouard would cross the Channel in time to be reunited with King Henry for the festivities, because the restoration of God’s rightful anointed monarch to the throne of England was surely something for them to celebrate together.

  We were lavishly accommodated and entertained by Lady Margaret and Sir Henry and they were both graciously kind to Jane and Sian and very interested to hear about Elin’s friendship and stay with the Gardiners in Stepney. Sian remembered to thank Margaret for the silver cup she had sent her at birth and revealed that she drank from it every day, which had pleased Margaret immensely.

  ‘It was not strictly true,’ Jane confessed once we were on the road again, ‘but I told Sian to cross her fingers when she said it. The girls do use them on feast days, though. Can you believe, when I thanked her for the money gift she actually pressed her finger to my lips and told me there was no need for thanks?’

  ‘Noble ladies do like to feel they have distributed a certain amount of their wealth among the poor and needy in order to ensure their souls make it to heaven,’ I said, straight-faced.

  ‘Oh, so I am a charity case to Lady Margaret am I?’ Jane cried, rising nicely to the bait. ‘How does that make you look in her eyes then, my lord Jasper?’

  ‘Up to now I believe she has considered us both in need of her charity. Perhaps one day there may come a time when we are able to return her favours and earn ourselves some heavenly approval.’

  We were riding through the river meadows towards Windsor and Jane glanced behind to check that Sian and Harri were looking at the scenery and not us before giving me a wallop on the thigh – the highest she could reach from the back of her small palfrey. ‘You are teasing me, Jasper Tudor. I cannot imagine there ever being a time when I will be able to do anything more saintly than she can.’

  I rubbed my thigh ruefully. ‘When you come to think about it you might find that you already have, sweetheart,’ I said, glancing back at Harri. ‘There is a boy back there who would not show the promise he does if it were not for you.’

  Jane looked at me in surprise before giving a little nod. ‘You may be right,’ she said thoughtfully. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘For what?’ It was my turn to be surprised.

  ‘For making me an independent woman. I realize that I never would have been if you had not refused to marry me.’

  It was my turn to be thoughtful.

  The next day I left Jane and Sian exploring the sights of Windsor together and went with Harri to the king’s apartments in St George’s Hall. We found King Henry in a sorry state of melancholy, huddled over a Prie Dieu in his private chapel, passing the beads of his rosary frantically through his fingers and murmuring indecipherable prayers.

  ‘His grace is fretting about the queen and the prince, my lord,’ Sir Richard Tunstall whispered as we stood at the chapel door. ‘Today he received a letter from Rouen, telling him that they would soon travel by barge to the mouth of the Seine, where the ships and the army King Louis promised them are preparing to sail to England. The king is terrified of the sea, ever since they were all nearly shipwrecked on their first flight to Scotland.’

  ‘So will the queen be here for Christmas?’ I asked.

  The Chamberlain shrugged. ‘It is in God’s hands. I do not think his grace can decide whether to pray for them to sail as soon as possible or to wait until the threat of winter storms has passed.’

  ‘It is so long since they were together.’ I made the sign of the cross. ‘May the Virgin of the Sea grant the queen and the prince safe passage and bring the king cheer at Christ’s Nativity.’

  Henry must have heard our voices, for at the end of his rosary he heaved himself to his feet, genuflected to the altar and backed away. When he saw me his face broke into a smile. ‘Jasper! It is you. You are very well come.’

  I snatched off my hat, bent my knee and kissed his ring. ‘God’s greetings, your grace, I hope I find you well?’ Behind me Harri dropped to his knees but Henry did not notice him.

  He took my hand to make me rise. I thought his skin looked less transparent than at the coronation. ‘I am well enough thank you, Jasper, well enough. Sir Richard, what can we do to make Lord Pembroke welcome? I know, some hippocras perhaps.’ Henry suddenly became quite animated. ‘Do you remember when we drank too much of it at Christmas? So many years ago, so many years …’

  ‘At least eighteen, sire,’ I said with a grin. ‘We made merry, did we not?’ We began walking slowly down the passage that led to the king’s chamber. ‘I hope you will do the same this year, when the queen and the prince join you.’

  Henry stopped suddenly and looked up at me. ‘Sir Richard told me it was Édouard’s birthday a few weeks ago. How old was he Jasper? I could not remember.’

  I had to think quickly. ‘By my reckoning he is seventeen, sire.’

  ‘Seventeen!’ My brother’s face crumpled and, to my great concern, tears began to run down his hollow cheeks. ‘I do not know what he looks like any more,’ he moaned and his cry echoed in the empty passage. ‘I can only see him as he was when he left. He was a boy and now he is a man.’

  I did not know what to say and I was worried about Harri seeing the king in such a state. I turned and saw that he was following at a discreet distance, studiously keeping his eyes on his feet. In silence, punctuated by Henry’s occasional sniffs and Sir Richard’s embarrassed coughs, we made our way to a guarded entrance, where two sentries came to attention and raised their halberds. One of them rapped on the door and it was opened from within.

  ‘I will take your nephew for some refreshment, Lord Pembroke,’ said Sir Richard quietly.

  I nodded and beckoned Harri forward. ‘Go with the Chamberlain, Harri. I will come and find you in a little while.’

  Once we were inside King Henry’s chamber I put my arm around my brother and led him to his canopied chair, motioning the duty squire, who was hovering awkwardly, to leave the room.

  ‘You have been lonely for too long, Henry,’ I said, pulling my kerchief from my sleeve pocket and handing it to him. ‘But soon now you will be able to enjoy being a father to your son again.’

  ‘Do you think he is my son, Jasper?’ he whispered, blowing his nose and peering about the room to check for listening ears. ‘I know dreadful rumours were spread at his birth but I have always believed Marguerite to be a faithful wife. I took the advice you gave me on that Christmas night and so I can believe it.’

  My memories of that awkward encounter were still vivid but I was astonished that his were equally sharp. ‘Of course he is your son,’ I assured him. ‘Those rumours were spread by Yorkists to discredit you. God and his holy angels know that Prince Édouard is the trueborn heir to the throne of England. Your blood runs in his veins and now that you wear the crown again no one can doubt it.’

  The king pulled himself up agains
t the carved back of his chair, the moisture drying on his cheeks. ‘You should have a son of your own, Jasper. Why have you not married? Is it my fault? I have not found a suitable bride for you.’

  ‘That is your prerogative, sire,’ I said with a smile I did not feel.

  ‘Yes, yes. I will pray on it. You should not be left unmarried like our mother was. It can only lead to trouble.’ He waved at a nearby stool and I pulled it up. ‘Do you know I saw our mother the other day – a picture of her, on the wall. I found it when I climbed a turret to get a view of the weather to the south. I am so worried that the queen and prince will be hit by storms in the Channel.’

  I had to close my eyes on the burst of stars that exploded in my mind. Every time I had visited Windsor Castle during my life at court I had tried to find the portrait of Queen Catherine, which I had been told was somewhere in the Great Round Tower, but to no avail. Now Henry was telling me I had been looking in the wrong place. It was somewhere in the royal apartments after all. I tried not to show my excitement because I did not want to add to Henry’s agitation but this time I had to know where the portrait was.

  ‘I would like to see that picture, Henry. Which turret did you climb?’ I asked him gently.

  He waved the kerchief in a vague gesture. ‘Oh, I cannot remember. The weather at the time was fair. That was all I needed to know.’

  I resolved to change the subject. I would pursue the portrait later with Harri. Another pair of eyes would be useful. ‘I have brought my nephew with me today, sire. Would you like him to visit you?’