by Diana Rubino
The eyes looking at her were her very own, that same pale green, the arch of the brows not quite so delicate, but still containing that sense of determination, echoing her desire for truth and the pain it took to find it.
"Denys, my dear sister, how very lovely you are," he said, and his voice was not of the clipped English variety; it swam fluidly in its frenchified eloquence, yet held an underlying Welsh harshness.
"Your Grace," she whispered, wondering why she was treating him with reverence, knowing it was a betrayal of Richard's memory. Yet he was her brother, and for the fact that he was flesh of her flesh and for that fact only, she felt a fiercely powerful bond.
"When we are in private I shall call you Henry," she added, knowing she could never let this go unsaid, and if he did not like it, she did not care.
"As you wish, my twin sister," he said, and he grinned, displaying a row of blackened and rotten teeth. He bowed his head and a few strands of his thin hair fell out of place.
He held out both hands to her and she let him take her in his grasp. His arms encircled her gingerly at first, then closed tighter and she rested her head on her brother's shoulder, loving him, hating him, refusing to recognize him as King, yet overjoyed that she'd finally found her brother, even if it was Henry Tudor.
"My first order as King was to bring me some grapes, I had an acute craving for grapes!" He laughed and she looked away from those eyes that were so much like hers, but now sparkled with a devious countenance she didn't want to behold. She wanted to bellow at the heartless shite as to why his first order hadn't been to treat Richard's slain body with some dignity.
"Did our mother ever tell you about me?" she asked evenly.
"Nay, Denys, never. But I knew I had a sister for quite some time now."
"Then how did you find out, if not from our mother?"
"Elizabeth Woodville."
"Oh, Jesu." That name. She was hoping she'd never hear it again.
"She told me before my first invasion. When Gloucester took the throne and Elizabeth realized her sons would never be kings, she thought the next best thing would be to have her grandsons there instead."
"Grandsons?"
"Aye. Quite a while back, she arranged for me to marry her daughter Elizabeth."
She blinked. "You...are going to marry young Elizabeth?"
"It makes perfect sense. I shall reunite the houses of York and Lancaster and Elizabeth Woodville will get her royal descendants as we lay the foundation for a new house, the house of Tudor."
She continued to shake her head. She turned away, not wanting to look at his face.
Henry's eyes darkened and he lowered his head, wiping his hands on his robe.
"I didn't want to come forth and tell you who you were. ‘Twas I who had you followed and had those people done away with who could've helped you, bribed priests not to tell you the truth about Foxley Manor. I also had your genealogical tables stolen.
"Anything to thwart your efforts. I felt that if you knew you had a claim to the throne, your high-titled and ambitious husband would have second thoughts about his loyalty to Gloucester, with a potential queen as a wife. He would have been right there to place you on the throne, forcing me to fight my own sister."
She resisted the urge to spit in his fact but gritted out, "Codswallop! Valentine would have died for Richard! He never would have betrayed him. They were closer than brothers!"
"One never knows what one will do when one's wife is of royal lineage and but a step from the throne," Henry sneered.
"So here I am. Are you still worried we are going to take the throne from you?" she said, spreading her hands wide.
"Nay, I pardoned him, didn't I? But I would be doubly pleased if you would accept what I am about to offer you."
Her eyes narrowed. "What can you offer me that I can possibly want?"
"Denys, as twin children of Edmund Tudor and Margaret Beaufort, both our claims to the throne are equal at present. I have won the crown by force of arms and bear it as being the eldest and the male. However, as I have no male heirs as of yet, you are my closest living relative. As such I would like you to be my heir, until Elizabeth brings forth my first prince."
Denys felt the air rush from her lungs. She could hardly believe what she was hearing. Was this offer supposed to be some sort of a test? Or did he think it to be a gift? Would Richard have wanted her to succeed him on the timeline of history?
Even as she opened her lips to spit back her scorn at the offer, the recollection of Richard's handsome young face gave her pause. Aye, she knew he would have loved her to have a chance to inherit, since they were distant relatives. But as the sister of Henry Tudor, never! She might be a Lancastrian by blood, but she had followed the white rose of York her whole life. To succeed Henry Tudor as monarch in such circumstances as these would be to betray everything any of them had ever stood for.
"I have never aspired to the throne, I do not aspire to the throne, and shan't ever want aught to do with the throne, do you understand me, Henry? Should you die without issue, then I would suggest that George Plantagenet's son Edward would be a worthy heir."
He shook his head. "The days of Yorkist rule are over, my dear. I won the crown by right of conquest with the support of my faction, and it is obvious that is what the people wish."
"Oh, you have not been to the north country, Henry," she corrected the King with a wisdom far surpassing his with regard to the wishes of the people. "The north is Yorkist country, and as such the subjects there will always swear allegiance to the Yorkist faction. I spent almost my entire life there, so I should know."
"But the Yorkist faction is no more. Richard of Gloucester is gone and I am King now!" His voice took on a whining tone and at that moment she wanted to smack him silly, knock him off his lofty perch. Here he was the King of England and he was acting like a spoilt child having grabbed a toy away from his playmate and now crowing over it in triumph, though he had stolen it by the most treacherous methods. "The north belongs to the same realm as the south."
"We are not talking about chess pieces here, Harry." She deliberately spoke down to him, as his uppity attitude was beginning to grind on her nerves. "If you wish to rule like some Turkish sultan, you have conquered the wrong part of the world."
Two sets of eyes blazed momentarily, that Beaufort stubbornness coming head to head for the first time ever, pitting sister against brother.
"Then my first progress will be to the north in order to capture the hearts of my countrymen there. They will grow to trust me."
She shook her head. "Don't count on it, Brother. Leave the north to my husband and the lords up there. Concentrate on getting your house in order first. I suggest you sire some heirs of your own quickly, for I have no desire to be your successor. Nor do I wish to be a usurper. So you have naught to worry about regarding my husband or myself. We want only to be left alone in our home."
"As you wish, dear sister. And to show you that I harbor no ill will towards you or the memory of your fallen King, I shall reverse the attainder against George Plantagenet and make his son Edward heir to the throne until I sire my own. Just bear in mind that is unlikely to happen, as he is a simple minded dolt who is hardly fit to rule."
"He has daughters too," Denys observed quietly.
He waved dismissively. "They are mere girls, and but babes."
"Elizabeth Woodville and our mother are but mere women, yet most formidable," she pointed out sharply. "And we all grow up one day, if the Lord sees fit to spare us, and our king, of course."
"True."
"And Richard the Second was eleven when he ascended the throne and Henry the Sixth was but nine months," she argued.
"Aye, and having a sovereign who has not reached his majority lends itself to endless problems." He cast her a sly glance and cocked a brow. "Look what just happened when King Edward died and his young son was proclaimed King. Gloucester stepped right in as if he had the right. I rest my case."
"You bloody
well do not rest your case!" By now she'd forgotten he was the King; he was simply her tyrannical brother who was showing a very ugly side of his character much too early for his own good. "King Edward made Richard the Lord Protector and then his children were found to be illegitimate. That attainder includes your betrothed, Elizabeth, remember? The marriage never took place due to a pre-contract."
Again he waved away her words dismissively. "I shall take care of that, too. I told you I would make Edward Plantagenet my successor and you agreed. Now let us cease this arguing. All I wanted to do was make amends for having caused you such misery."
"Nothing you could ever do would make amends! You selfish little scut! Not only did you kill my dearest friend, you seized the crown of England from him, quite undeservedly!"
His eyes narrowed. "Selfish, am I? May I remind you that I spared and pardoned the Duke of Norwich, unlike many of Gloucester's other supporters, just because he is your husband. Surely a cruel heartless bastard such as you accuse me of being would have sent him into the dungeons with all the other traitors."
"He is NOT a traitor," Denys hissed. "He has done more to serve this country for years than many another seeking worldly reward at your hands now."
"We shall see."
She stared at him. "What is that supposed to mean?"
"I need to keep a close eye on him should those, er, northern rabble arise and give me any trouble."
"You will have no trouble from us, Henry, as I have said. Leave us be."
"Very well. Just remember, you have a brother now, who is King. I want to make it all up to you, your futile searches, your tragedies. And if you change your mind and decide you wish to be my successor should I not sire a male heir, then the crown is yours. However if you choose not to succeed me, I shall understand.
"But if there is anything at all I can do for you, not only as your King, but as your brother, just say the word and I am at your service. Your husband will retain his titles and lands. Nothing will be taken from you."
"I need nothing from you, Henry. I am perfectly happy in my cozy realm up north serving my subjects there and my husband, so my plate will be quite full."
"Then so be it. Then just let me know if there is anything else I can grant you."
"Aye, there is. I would like to commission a family portrait. As of now, this is all I have." She reached into her sack and pulled out the beads, the miniature dangling. She held it up to him.
He looked at it, at her, then back down to it. "The eyes. You have her eyes. Beaufort eyes. And the "B" necklace she's wearing in the portrait, she gave to me. I've got it here—" and he disappeared for a moment, as she stared at the portrait, seeing her mother's willful eyes, so much like hers.
Henry returned with a gold "B" hung with two pearls suspended on a gold chain. Before Denys could utter a word, he'd slipped it over her head. "She gave it to me the last time I came upon these shores. I was going to give it to my daughter some day, but I think you should have it. Besides, I hope to only have sons," he added, with a sly smirk.
"And now that Foxley Manor is back in the Crown's hands, I want you to have that as well."
Her heart gave a little leap. That hauntingly beautiful abandoned house that she'd wished she could pretty up—now it could be hers. Despite herself, she found herself thanking him. "I would like that, Henry. Our mother's legacy."
Henry nodded. "Besides us, of course."
"But why was Foxley Manor empty when I went there?" she asked curiously.
"Elizabeth had tenants living there, but when she had an inkling you'd gone to investigate it, she'd ousted them and the furnishings as not to leave a clue."
"Except this one little clue." She clasped her fingers round the beads. "Oh, what a wasted life, living as a Woodville."
"Don't dwell on the past. Think of what you have now. A brother who is King...and if that means naught to you, you have a husband who was spared. Go back to him now...and enjoy your life in the north."
"I shall."
"Now then...you will attend my coronation, of course, you and the Duke? I hope to be crowned by mid-October."
"Nay. Do not expect to see us at your coronation, Henry. It would be too painful. Even someone like you should be able to understand that."
"I think I can. And I am truly sorry for all you have suffered. I understand that ties of friendship can be even stronger than those of the blood, and you have been with the Yorkists for many years. Richard was a man of great talent, but the Almighty has seen fit to give me the crown of England. My destiny lies waiting, just as yours does now that you are a Tudor."
"Nay, Henry, not a Tudor. A Starbury."
He gave a tight smile. "Indeed. As you wish. Be well, Sister."
"Farewell."
She curtseyed, and then brother and sister parted company, with Denys' mission at an end at last.
CHAPTER FORTY
Denys was resting in her favorite window seat, rocking her son to sleep. Love filled her heart as she gazed upon his peaceful face. It had not been the daughter she had first hoped for, but they had named him Richard and were delighted that Valentine finally had his heir. Now she lay a protective hand over the belly where her unborn second child lay. She was eager to give her husband a shire full of sons.
A horse caparisoned in royal colors galloped through the gates into Dovebury's entrance courtyard and the messenger dismounted.
Denys froze when she saw the red dragon, Tudor's banner, draped over the horse and emblazoned on the messenger's tunic. She summoned the nursemaid to continue rocking the child and hastened from the window seat to the courtyard.
"A message for His Grace the Duke of Norwich from His Highness the King." The messenger bowed to her and handed over the parchment, embossed with the royal seal.
Valentine was tending to some business at Middleham College and was not expected back soon. Unable to bear the suspense a moment longer, she broke the seal with trembling hands as the messenger galloped away and that dreadful dragon faded from her sight.
He was summoning Valentine to court. Oh, what does he want with us? she wondered as the words on the page swam before her eyes.
Young Queen Elizabeth had just birthed their first son, so he now had his own precious heir, the future King Arthur. But what did he want from her husband? Henry Tudor had not gained any degree of popularity, especially in the north, which still remained Yorkist and staunchly loyal to Valentine. Knowing Henry Tudor was her brother tore at her heart. Not knowing couldn't have been worse, except for the fact that it had probably saved Valentine's life after the Battle of Bosworth when all of Richard's supporters had been executed.
Grabbing her cloak, she rounded up a retinue to load a pack-horse with supplies, spurred her mount on and tore down the road to Middleham College. A summons like this could not wait.
Several days later, after a hard journey, Valentine stood in the outer council chamber at Westminster Palace, where he'd spent so much time as Chancellor.
Back then joviality and camaraderie among the King's men had filled the air. Now the place looked downright gloomy. The King's grooms and footmen wore sullen faces as they went about their duties. Armed guards were posted everywhere. That bloody red dragon repeated on rows of banners hung from the ceiling's beams made the whole place look like hell itself.
Finally the King's guard swept through the doorway and strode up to Valentine. "His Highness the King wishes to engage your services, Sir Starbury," he said.
"My services? In what capacity?"
"He has assigned you the office of Great Chamberlain."
He shook his head in bewilderment. "I have gone back to being governor of Yorkshire. I have no desire to serve in the royal court. You may relay that to His Highness." Valentine turned to leave.
The guard seized his shoulder and spun him round. "It is not the express wish of His Highness for you to return to Yorkshire. Your only alternative...is to die a traitor."
"What?"
Valentine wa
s placed in the Tower with one week in which to deliver his decision. He immediately dispatched a message to Denys telling her of his fate.
Denys rode to London as fast as she dared considering the babe in her belly as soon as she received her husband's missive.
She arrived just in time, on the morning of his audience with the King.
The guard opened the door to Valentine's sparse but comfortable cell in the Byward Tower and Denys hurled herself into his arms.
"Oh, Valentine... Are you all right? What has he done to you?" she gasped between kisses.