Elysabeth bit her lip. She looked to the shocked Katherine Hastings for support but when none was forthcoming, she answered honestly. ‘I don’t know what to say.’
A creped-skin hand patted hers. ‘Then say nothing, dear highness. We all make choices. If your brother agrees, he’ll be very pampered. And England will be so shocked and busy talking about the scandalous nature of my marriage, they’ll forget about the scandal of yours. Helpful, hmmm?’
That was a slap in the face.
‘How very generous of you to make such a sacrifice solely for his grace the king’s wellbeing, Lady Catherine,’ Elysabeth retaliated with as grave a face as possible. ‘I shall inform my lord king and my brother straightway.’
Lady Hastings lifted a hand to her mouth but her eyes were awash with laughter.
The old lady dipped her head, smiling, and creaked away like a storm-tossed caravel.
‘Please feel free to inform your husband of this proposal, Lady Hastings,’ Elysabeth said calmly. ‘I think it is a matter for the royal council to deliberate upon.’ If such a horrendous marriage happened without the approval of Ned’s councillors, her family would suffer the opprobrium of being greedy. And she knew who would be the first to accuse them – Warwick.
Warwick’s sister looked approving at the mention of the royal council but the young woman’s answer did not match her face. ‘With all respect, madame, it is usually the king who decides these matters.’
Another smack.
‘May I inform my husband now, your highness, as you request?’
‘You have leave.’ Elysabeth nodded, was curtsied to and then found herself standing unattended.
‘Alone, your royal highness?’ Lady Ferrers made a fulsome obeisance at her elbow. Grey and a man who was probably John Bourchier bowed at her side.
Instead of bidding her erstwhile mother-in-law to rise, Elysabeth held out her hand for the woman to kiss. ‘You are welcome to our court,’ she said falling back on regal formality. Perhaps the only way to protect herself from mockery from now on was to hedge her person with ceremony. As queen, she might not command respect but she could enforce it. A painful unwelcome step.
‘Madame, we congratulate you on your marriage.’
‘Do you, Grey? How very kind.’ It was tempting to remind the Greys that she had won the matter of the three manors and that Thomas was to wed an extremely wealthy heiress but that would have been small-minded and a petty revenge. Instead she said graciously, ‘You are looking very well, Lady Ferrers. Marrying this young man here was a clearly a good decision.’
‘Your highness has set us all an example.’ A clever insult or just an ill-thought out answer?
‘You have leave.’ With a nod and graceful spread of fingers, she dismissed them and they had no choice but to bow once more and back away.
Kate had made her curtsey to the new queen and there would be more obesiance required at tomorrow’s ceremony. She didn’t particularly like Elysabeth but this new queen wasn’t part of her future. There was a new babe inside her, God willing, not a girl child destined for Thomas Grey, but a boy she might safely carry to birth, and there would be more in the years to come. Happiness for her would be raising a family, busying herself with household matters. She had just spent a few weeks refurbishing Beaumont Inn, their London house, and William was talking about building a great castle at Ashby-de-la-Zouch.
‘Kate.’ His voice broke through her reverie. He was before her now, a goblet of Rhenish in each hand.
She smiled, well loved and still in love. They clinked glass to glass.
‘Here’s to the new dynasty,’ he exclaimed dryly, ranging himself beside her, his gaze flicking to the new queen. ‘I like surprises but I could do without this one.’
She curled her arm through his. ‘At least the mercers and tailors guilds will be celebrating. A coronation in the offing.’
‘And who do you think will do the arranging, love? I’d hoped to spend more time with you and Cecily. If it’s not the plaguey Scots or Margaret’s rebels, it’s a ruddy coronation. Secret marriage!’ he growled beneath his breath. ‘If he wasn’t a good friend and King of England, I’d give him a bloody hard punch on the nose. Oh, Hell damn it, I’m wanted yet again.’ Ned, his nose unsullied, was looking their way, a message of summons in his eyes.
William kissed her cheek. ‘Back in a moment, sweetheart.’
Kate doubted that as she watched him stride over to the king. ‘Moment’ was her life writ large and she had resolved not to be jealous. William, because of his high offices and sense of duty, was a shared commodity and Ned had the greatest piece. And, with a queen now, there would be others. Others she did not want to think about or imagine.
Your husband will be famous and much loved.
Well, if William strayed, he could do it down in London out of her sight. She would give him a home to come back to, loving arms. Always.
Jesu, I’m standing here on my own again like a leper, and people are watching, Elysabeth realised. This is what it is going to be like. The watching. Have I the strength for this? Ned believes I have so I mustn’t let him down but—
‘Your highness.’ Princess Meg was before her now with half a dozen of young maids-of-honour herded up behind her. Jacquetta was clearly playing sheep dog and the young girls were looking very chastened as they made obeisance.
‘Lordy, I’m sorry, your highness, your mother says we are supposed to stay with you at all times. It’s just we’ve not had a queen for four years.’ Behind her, Elysabeth’s mother rolled her eyes.
Elysabeth curled Meg’s arm through hers. ‘We’ll learn together.’
Yes, people would watch her and Ned like hunters, like circling carrion.
No man could be charged with treason if criticism was unspoken. It would be covert enmity: the raise of an eyebrow, a twist of the lips, the knowing nod, the touch of an elbow. Perhaps, with time, she would acquire a protective deafness, a hardened shell.
Well no matter, her sons, her landless brothers and undowered sisters would be provided for. William Hastings would be paid his penalty fee of 250 marks and she would inform him Tom would be betrothed to the king’s niece instead—as wealthy an heiress as the Bonville-Harrington child. Maybe she’d choose one of the Bourchier brothers for one of her sisters.
And she would repay those who had helped her. Roger Wigston of Leicester would receive thrice the money he had lent her, and if he hadn’t sold her gillyflower pendant, she would redeem it or she would buy it back from whoever had bought it from him. It was within her power now. And perhaps she would make that flower her emblem for the coronation since it was also beloved of Our Lady and a symbol of motherly love.
Motherly love. Perfect for a queen. For a kingdom. For a king who needed sons to entrench a dynasty.
Perfect.
Behind Meg’s back, she met her mother’s smile.
There would be enemies and flatterers but she had her family and they would always tell her the truth. Now she knew what Ned had needed was people he could trust, who owed their loyalty to him above all others.
‘Sweetheart,’ Ned was at her side again. ‘Come. Let’s to bed. Tomorrow will be all bells and fanfares.’
That night, before she lay beside Ned, she knelt upon the prie-dieu in their bedchamber with a whole rainbow of emotions flooding through her, from fear to pride, from exultation to disbelief.
O Sweet Mary, Mother of God, Blessed Lady, and all the holy company of heaven, I know not what the future may bring, but I thank you for the blessings of this day. Almighty God, in whom is all mercy and grace, with as good heart and mind as to me is possible, I implore you help me be a comfort to my lord husband and a goodly mistress to the people of this realm.
Amen
‘I’ll always be here for you,’ she told Ned as they lay together. ‘No matter what shall come to pass. I make that promise to you.’ So speaking, she carried his hand to her lips.
His large hands framed her face. ‘Even
if I become a penniless beggar?’
‘Yes, Ned, even then. I’ll always be waiting for you with love.’
After all…
…after all, in truth, what other priceless gift was there to offer to a king?
Postscript and Acknowledgments
Elysabeth’s son, Thomas Grey, eventually married Kate’s daughter, Cecily Bonville, and she became Marquess of Dorset. Their wedding is mentioned in my previous novel Mistress to the Crown, which deals with the later years of King Edward IV and Lord Hastings.
Elysabeth spent her last years at Bermondsey Abbey. She died in June 1492. At her request, there was no grand funeral. In the late evening, her simple wooden coffin was placed on top of King Edward’s sarcophagus in St George’s Chapel, Windsor. Her will, made two months before her death still exists, and I have used some of her own phrases in her prayers in the final chapter of this novel. A copy of Kate’s will, written in 1503 is in the appendix of David Baldwin’s The Kingmaker’s Sisters. Hastings was buried close by the grave of his beloved king in St George’s Chapel, Windsor Castle, and Kate is buried in St Helen’s Church, Ashby-de-la-Zouche. Henry Courtney never became an earl and was executed in 1469.
The tree in Northamptonshire where Elysabeth is supposed to have waylaid the king is now a burned-out stump and hardly likely to date from the 1460s anyway, but often legends have an element of truth in them. It may be still possible to view the site courtesy of the farmer who owns the land.
An archaeological dig to find the remains of Grafton manor house is long overdue. It is possible the house the Woodvilles owned was rebuilt as a palace, used by King Henry VIII and Anne Boleyn. However, any stately buildings in Grafton were blown up by the Roundheads in the Civil War. Some of the Woodville family also owned Ightham Mote in Kent at one time and Edward and Elysabeth are known to have stayed there with the king’s sister, Margaret (Meg) on her visit from Burgundy in 1480.
Astley has had several castles on the same site. The current ruins are once more a hotel. The tombs of Cecily Bonville, her husband Thomas Grey, their son, Henry, and Lady Ferrers are in the parish church.
Groby, which has featured in the Time Team TV series, is privately owned, but you can glimpse the brick tower from the road. This site
Ashby-de-la-Zouch Castle, though sadly ruined, is a tribute to the power and importance of Lord Hastings and this was Kate’s home for all of her married life whereas her daughter, Cecily, seems to have preferred Shute. Kirby Muxloe is now much as it would have been the 1480s. It was being rebuilt in brick by John Cowper but the sudden execution of Lord Hastings at the Tower of London in 1483 halted the building work and Kate probably no longer had the heart to finish it. Shute Hall is now holiday accommodation. I was fortunate to have visited there when it was still open to the general public and it was fun to meet the owners.
Chewton Mendip Church has a tomb with the FitzRogers’ effigies on top but it clearly does not belong to them. I haven’t been able to find out where Will Bonville and his father were interred.
The Wars of the Roses has been my great interest since I was fourteen, so a lot of research over the years has contributed towards this novel. There are not a lot of primary sources that throw light on Kate and Elysabeth from 1461 to 1464 but the Feet of Fines showing the 1455 grant
The grant giving Kate custody of Cecily is in the Calendar of Patent Rolls. So, also, is a confirmation on 17th February 1462 of all the grants William, Lord Hastings had received from the king and the mention of Kate as his wife confirms that they were married by then.
The 1525 Survey of seventy-nine of Cecily Bonville’s holdings in the West Country by her surveyor Richard Phellyps (PROE, 315/385) provides a marvellous source of information on the tenants who lived at Shute. I also delved into M.F. Bridies’ The Story of Shute, The Itinerary of John Leland, D.A. Ramsay’s series on Bradgate and its villages and Charles James Billson’s Medieval Leicester for local information. British History Online is a wonderful resource especially as it now has digital copies of the Victoria County History volumes.
For readers who would like to read more about these historical people, here are some secondary sources: Warwick the Kingmaker, Michael Hicks; The Kingmaker’s Sisters, David Baldwin; Elizabeth Woodville, David Baldwin; and Edward IV, Charles Ross. There are also many useful articles in the The Ricardian, journal of the Richard III Society, and on specialist internet sites.
Thanks are due to friend and fellow Ricardian, Babs Creamer of the Poole Group of the Richard III Society. It was her suggestion that I should write a novel about Kate and her daughter and she kindly took me to Shute and to Ottery St Mary, where the church contains a beautiful ceiling, commissioned by Cecily.
I am also grateful to John Cochrane, former guide at Shute, who was very kind in answering my email questions about the history of the area; Sally and Gerald Martyn who did some sleuthing for me at Chewton Mendip Church; the wonderful Turramurra critique group for their comments on the manuscript; Jenny Savage for her advice and suggestions; Jan Colman for suggested reading on Asperger syndrome; friends Felicity and Don Head for their hospitality when we were researching Grafton Regis; and last but not least, my husband for the map and the family trees. Yes, and (as a Leicestershire lad) for being such a great companion on visits to Groby, Astley, Kirby Muxloe, Ashby-de-la-Zouche and Bradgate Park. Finally a big thank you to the editorial team in Sydney: Sue, Annabel, copy editor Jody Lee and the cover design team. You are a delight to work with, everyone!
Isolde Martyn
www.isoldemartyn.com
About the Author
Isolde Martyn is originally from England and has an Honours degree in History, with a specialisation in the Wars of the Roses.
She ended up in Australia after meeting a rather nice geologist at a bus stop. Since then she has worked as a university tutor, an archivist and for six years as a researcher in human geography at Macquarie University. She spent a year researching sedition in early colonial Australia and then became heavily involved in the Bicentenary History project and researched all the towns in Australia for the Bicentenary volume Events and Places.
Her more recent career was as a senior book editor with a major international publisher before taking up writing full time.
Isolde enjoys using turbulent historical events as the backdrop of her books. Her debut novel was the first book by an Australian writer to win the prestigious RITA award in the USA and her first two novels won the ‘Romantic Book of the Year Award’ in Australia. Her most recent novel was the critically acclaimed Mistress to the Crown (Harlequin, 2013). She is a former chairperson of the Sydney branch of the Richard III Society and vice-chair of the Plantagenet Society of Australia, which she co-founded with five other enthusiasts fifteen years ago.
The Golden Widows is her seventh novel.
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ISBN: 9781488744310
TITLE: The Golden Widows
First Australian Publication 2014
Copyright © 2014 Isolde Martyn
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