Cicely's Second King

by Sandra Heath Wilson

  ‘You really do know how to stretch my patience. Must I remind you that the child is not mine at all? It is Richard’s. It will merely bear my name, for which you should be more grateful than you seem to be right now. As for complaining that someone else has shared my bed . . . Damn you for your contrariness. What should it matter to you when you have no real interest of your own in my bed?’

  ‘That is not true, Jon! I have begged you to come to me, but you will not.’

  ‘And you know why. Oh, I have no time for any more of this. You have my word that Lucy will not attend you and that Katherine Kymbe will be sent for.’

  ‘And what power do I have in your absence?’

  ‘The power of any lord’s lady, Cicely, which does not include the right to summarily hang Lucy Talby! No matter how much Henry Tudor desires you, I cannot think his forbearance would stretch to the flouting of the King’s Justice! So please be so kind as to keep your Yorkist Plantagenet wrath to yourself. I will speak to her and make it clear that she has no call upon me now. Which she knows already, but I will repeat it anyway. I will warn her not to do anything at all that may offend you. I can do no more than that, unless I take her with me to Rockingham?’

  ‘Do not dare!’

  ‘I did not think you would care for that. Do you prefer to return to Pasmer’s Place? Which you are at liberty to do, if that is your preference.’

  ‘And leave her the victory? I would hang her first!’

  Jon smiled. ‘Welcome back, Cicely.’

  ‘I am not about to smile with you now, Jon.’

  ‘As you wish. I have to leave for Rockingham within the hour, and I will do all I can to return as quickly as is possible. I will instruct my steward to watch over you and not allow any harm to befall you, but you must heed his advice, Cicely. He is a local man, born and bred, and knows all about these parts.’ He drew a deep breath. ‘May I ask that when I do return, we can begin again?’

  She nodded. ‘I pray so.’

  ‘Then the very least I can do now is show you that you do matter to me, Cicely, and that you do realize there can be happiness between us.’

  He drew her closer suddenly, and embraced her. If he was conscious of her child, as Henry had been, he gave no hint of it as he kissed her on the lips. It was a good kiss, a tender kiss, with parted lips and the promise of a warmly shared bed when the time was right. Then he took her face in his hands. ‘Have more faith in me, Cicely.’

  After bestowing another kiss upon the tip of her nose, he took his hat and gloves and left her in the solar. That final tenderness had only upset her more, and did nothing to allay her suspicion. She had no right to expect or demand anything of him, even though she was so highborn, but she needed to be sure Lucy Talby no longer meant anything to him. And while that woman was here, his wife could not be assured of anything.

  After a while she heard horses as preparations were made for him to set off for Rockingham. Could she let him leave like this? When she was so confused and upset and might dwell upon so much? No, she needed more faith and trust. And she needed to defeat Lucy Talby. Jon Welles was her husband, not the witch’s! Catching her skirts, she swept down to the courtyard steps. A large company of mounted men-at-arms waited in the snow, with Jon’s yellow-and-black banners and badge on full display. The steward, Ned Grebby, had taken upon himself the honour of waiting with Jon’s horse.

  Jon came out behind her, cloaked, pulling on his gauntlets. He paused. ‘Cicely?’

  ‘Take care, Jon, and be safe.’

  ‘I will do my best.’

  She put a quick hand on his arm. ‘God speed, and come back to me soon. I too have no wish for things to be bad between us.’

  He gazed at her. ‘You confound me at every turn, Cicely.’ He smiled, and bent to put his lips to hers again, and this time she held his arms, making him dwell upon the kiss. He drew back at last, his dark blue eyes puzzled. ‘Would to God I understood you, sweetheart,’ he said softly, and then continued down the steps.

  But then something happened. He glanced up at a window on the opposite side of the courtyard, and there, watching everything, was Lucy Talby. He halted, still tightening his fingers in his gauntlet. Then he turned to look at Cicely and she saw bitter accusation in his eyes.

  He believed she had waylaid him simply to make a possessive point to a rival! But she had not known Lucy was there. ‘Jon? It is not as you think—’

  He interrupted by turning his back and going to his waiting horse. Within moments he rode out of Wyberton Castle with his escort. He did not look at his wife.

  Cicely’s only consolation was that he had not looked at Lucy again either. She returned to her apartment and was glad to find Mary waiting for her. ‘Oh, Mary, I wish I had never left London.’

  ‘You are still tired, my lady, and it is never easy during the final months. My aunt always says so.’

  ‘Mary, my lord is in agreement that your aunt should attend me. The child is due in March, as you know, so if you could inform her that she should be here with me at the end of February? My lord will meet all expenses and I will give you money to send to her for the outward journey.’

  ‘Yes, my lady. I will request my brother Tom to bring her. I will like to see them both again, but especially Tom, who was estranged from our father for so long that he lived with cousins far away on the Isle of Wight. I did not see him for a long time.’

  Cicely saw the pleasure on the maid’s face. ‘You are fond of him, are you not?’

  ‘Oh, yes, my lady. He is everything a brother should be. And he has found happiness at last, for which I am truly pleased. Although—’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Well, his lady is not meant to be his, for she is married elsewhere. So they are sinful. She now expects Tom’s child, but they cannot marry.’

  How achingly familiar that sounded, Cicely thought. ‘I am glad your brother is happy, Mary. But for now, I would be alone. My lord and I did not part on a happy note.’

  ‘I am sorry, my lady, but I know he loves you. All will be well when he returns.’

  ‘I pray you are right.’

  When the maid had gone, Cicely stood in the centre of her bedchamber. ‘Richard?’

  There was only the crackle of the fire.

  ‘Richard? Please,’ she whispered, for the need to have his arms around her was so powerful that she could almost have fallen to her knees of it.

  She closed her eyes, summoning him to her mind. She could see him, leaning back against the wall in the sanctuary of Westminster Abbey, smiling at her. ‘Please, Richard, hold me. Please, for I cannot endure it here.’

  His arms were around her, but if she opened her eyes she knew she would not see him. Yet he was there, for she was in that unrivalled embrace, held so close and dear that nothing else was of consequence.

  ‘Why can I not see you?’ she breathed.

  But there was nothing there, just the imparted sensation of his embrace. And that faint, exquisitely evocative scent of costmary. Just a sweet memory. Of love. So much love.

  Chapter Seventeen

  That night, when sleep eluded her, Cicely sat by the fire, wrapped in a blanket of soft honey-coloured furs. But as she gazed at the dying fire, where the logs glinted and glowed, there was a sound at the door, a stealthy sound that was not meant to be heard at all. She got up slowly, pulling the blanket closer. As she watched, the ring handle was turned, and the door swung open very slowly. Lucy Talby, she thought, and she was right.

  Jon’s mistress, former or present, came slowly in, and was surprised to be confronted. ‘How alert you are, my lady.’

  ‘How alert I clearly need to be.’ Cicely held a candle to the fire and then set it on a table between them.

  ‘He is mine. You shall not have him,’ Lucy said.

  ‘He? You refer to my husband?’

  Lucy turned to close the door, but Cicely halted her.

  ‘The door will stay open, Mistress Talby, for I believe there is a guard not far away.
If I scream, I need to be sure he will hear.’

  Lucy stepped into the room again. ‘The daughter of a king would scream for help?’

  ‘You may count upon it, Mistress Talby. You may also count upon it that I am as capable as you of being untruthful to achieve what I want.’

  ‘The offspring of an unscrupulous monster is without scruple herself? Not surprising, I suppose.’

  ‘And you are the offspring of a man toward whom my husband feels an immense debt of gratitude, Mistress Talby. That is why you are here, or so I understand from my lord. You are certainly not here because he loves you. If he did, why did he marry me? Why did he get me with child?’

  ‘But not in that order.’ Lucy smiled coolly. ‘He told you I am only here because of my father? No, my lady, I am here because your husband lusts for me. He comes to my bed because he cannot be so satisfied by anyone else. He fucks me until he can fuck no more, and after a while he needs to fuck me again. And he was here, with me, at the time you say he got you with child. How very agile he must be, to have you in Nottingham and me here in Wyberton at the same time.’

  ‘The difference is that I knew about you, but you certainly did not know about me.’ Cicely found the barbs so easily. When it came to words, she was well able to both defend and attack. She spread her hands to indicate the fullness of her belly. ‘Well, clearly he managed somehow to be in Nottingham with me, Mistress Talby, for he is quite content to acknowledge this child as his. Why would he do that if it were not? I lay with him and each time was a more gratifying and rewarding experience than the one before. I exulted in his lovemaking, as I know he did in mine. He belongs to me, not you, and I intend to keep him.’

  ‘You think your royal blood will hold such a man?’

  Oh, I have held a king, the finest king England could ever have, and it is his child I carry within me! But those words remained close to Cicely’s heart. ‘My royal blood is very royal, and has advanced Sir Jon’s fortunes, Mistress Talby. He knows better than to play me false, for I have influence at court. With Sir Jon’s nephew, the king, and the king’s lady mother. Why, my dearest sister is to be Queen of England. So do not be foolish enough to set yourself against me.’

  ‘I will set myself against you. I already have. You are at my mercy now, my royal lady. Here, in the depths of Lincolnshire, I am the queen. And if you think you cannot only outwit me, but keep him, you are mistaken.’

  ‘Has he not reminded you that you are no longer of interest to him?’ Cicely was sure he had.

  ‘No, my lady, he has not. Why would he? The very last thing he did before speaking to you as he left was fuck me.’

  ‘Perhaps he merely told you to fuck yourself away, Mistress Talby.’ Cicely smiled. ‘You do not frighten me, or pull the wool over my silly eyes. I know life at court, and believe me, I have contended with those far cleverer and more influential than you. Tangle with me at your peril.’ Cicely was astonished at herself. But then, she had taken on Henry Tudor in what had felt like mortal combat, and if she could do that, she could surely do anything. But it was all bravado now. Except that she had also been the lover of a king, and that king’s great heart was within her.

  ‘You are a revelation, Lady Welles, and certainly not as meek as you look.’

  ‘Remember it, Mistress Talby, for I am not of a merciful disposition either; there is far too much of my father’s blood in my veins. If I wish to be rid of you, I will see to it.’

  Lucy stepped closer. ‘You will have to take care of every measure you drink, every bite you eat, and every place you go. You will never be safe, and nor will your child.’

  ‘Let me make it quite clear that you will not be attending me in childbed. The matter is not for discussion. You will be kept well away from me.’

  ‘I am everywhere, Lady Welles, and I have powers against which you cannot possibly compete. If I wish to attend your birthing, I will do so.’

  ‘You claim the black arts? I cannot imagine that my lord will approve. He is a Christian lord.’

  ‘Is he? Think well on it, Lady Welles. I know him, and his Christian faith is not that deep. As you will discover soon enough.’

  Cicely wished her gone. ‘Does your sister live in Wyberton village?’ she asked with seeming incongruity.

  ‘Judith? Yes. In the cottage where we were born.’

  ‘Where the Devil conjured you, for to be sure I do not think William Talby had much to do with it. Well, you had best return there until my husband returns to decide your fate. I do not feel obligated to permit you inside the walls of this castle. Either of you, so keep your sister away as well. Your father did not save my life. Whatever my lord may have promised him, I did not promise the same. If you attempt to stay within these walls, I will have you put in the deepest cell it possesses. And I will pray that it floods. In my lord’s absence, I am mistress here, with the powers of my lord’s lady. So go. Now. Or I will do it.’

  She was rewarded by the other’s hesitation.

  ‘Very well, my lady, I will leave the castle, but that will not protect you from my malevolence. There will soon be only one witch in Wyberton, Lady Welles, and that will be you.’

  Cicely did not know what she meant, nor did she care. The creature was clutching at straws, and would say anything she thought would unnerve her rival.

  Lucy left, and the candle on the table was extinguished by the draught she caused. The muted firelight was restored as Cicely hurried to close the door. She cast around, saw a chair, and wedged it to prevent it being opened from the outside.

  ‘That was quite a performance, sweet Cicely.’

  Richard! She whirled about, her eyes alight, her lips parted with joy, her heart tugging. She had begged him to come, pleaded with him but he had not. Now, when she did not expect him, here he was.

  He smiled, and extended his hand, as always he did. She ran to him, and he welcomed her into his arms. She was safe again, loved again, precious to him again. She hid her face in his hair, her lips adoring his neck, where that small pulse proved he lived. She loved him so much that she could barely breathe for it.

  His fingers reached gently into her hair, stroking and comforting . . . and with unbearable sensuousness. She closed her eyes. ‘I only feel whole when I am with you,’ she whispered.

  ‘I should not be like this with you. Not now. Because you need to be free of me.’

  ‘No,’ she answered quietly. ‘That is a freedom I will never seek.’

  ‘You cannot bind yourself to me forever, Cicely.’

  ‘Please kiss me, Richard. Hold me close and kiss me.’

  His fingers slid forward from the nape of her neck, to her cheek, and then to her chin, raising her lips to his. Oh, the sweet taste of mint, the softness of his mouth, his breath. He was so tender, so gentle and attentive, that to be kissed by him was to be kissed by heaven itself. But the Devil was there too, arousing, wickedly sensuous and promising a world of carnal pleasures. A world where she knew Richard Plantagenet could always take her. With one kiss he gave so very, very much. Even now, when she was so unwillingly aware that nothing was real. She held him close, savouring the beating of his heart.

  ‘Yes, sweetheart, my heart beats, because you wish it so.’

  Guilt tiptoed into her, and she drew gently away, still holding his hands. ‘You know how I kissed Henry Tudor? The desire I felt?’

  ‘Of course I know.’

  ‘I am disloyal.’ Tears leapt to her eyes.

  His fingers closed tightly around hers. ‘No, sweetheart. He is . . . a complicated man and you demolished him with that kiss. He had no defence at all.’

  Nor did I, she thought.

  ‘The attraction you feel towards him, and your fear of his cruelty are things with which you will have to contend, Cicely. Men rarely change because their women wish it so. Kisses, caresses and sweet understanding do not alter the character within. Men may disguise it for a while, but that is all. Sooner or later the true spirit will out.’

  ‘I r
eally must become his lover, must I not?’

  He met her eyes. ‘Yes, sweetheart, and you must accept that the thought is not as daunting as you would like it to be.’

  ‘I will pretend he is you.’

  ‘That may not be possible.’ Richard put his hand to her cheek. ‘And where does Sir Jon fit into this pattern, mm?’

  ‘Jon?’

  ‘The name is known to you, I think?’ He smiled.

  ‘I am no longer sure what to feel about him.’

  ‘Yes, you do. Do not give in to your jealousy.’

  She flinched. ‘Jealousy?’

  ‘Well, is that not what it is? You cannot bear to think Lucy Talby has him when you do not.’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Yes, Cicely.’

  She gazed at him. ‘How can you say it so lightly?’

  ‘You think I should be jealous?’

  ‘Yes.’

  He smiled. ‘You convince yourself you can touch me, but I am not flesh and blood. Everything I say is only what you know for yourself, even if you refuse to acknowledge it. You want your husband, and I am glad of it.’

  ‘I am not allowed to have him. He will not permit it.’

  ‘Then stop thinking of me all the time! Jesu, Cicely, he knows you do it, and no man can endure being second. I experienced that misery.’

  ‘But I love you, and he is not you.’

  ‘Nor is he the less for it. Damn you, Cicely, for doing to him what Anne did to me.’

  She gazed at him. ‘I do not . . .’

  ‘No? I suggest you consider for a moment.’

  ‘I believe he has already been untrue to me.’

  ‘No, Cicely, you do not believe it. He was sincere when he said he was not unfaithful to you last night. You know it, sweetheart. Do not deny it, because I can see right through you. You angered him greatly this morning, both with your accusations and then when he supposed you to have kissed him deliberately, in order to be seen by Lucy Talby.’

  ‘But I did not.’

  ‘Maybe, but he does not know it, and now he has gone to Rockingham to attend to his duties. You know he will not lack for female attention. He is a man to attract it, both physically and because of who he is. He may well break his vows because of a kiss that to him was very questionable indeed.’