Treason

by Meredith Whitford

  Considering it, we looked at one another. Ships, arms, provisions... We nodded a joint agreement.

  ‘What about Clarence, though?’ Rivers asked, without enthusiasm.

  ‘He’s ready to turn. He will come back to me.’ Rivers looked as if he had stepped in dog shit. ‘Anthony, I respect your feelings, but I hate being at odds with my brother. And he can put five thousand men into the field, perhaps more. We need him. Also we need him for the look of the thing. To the people, if the King’s brother turns against him, he must have had good cause. (They don’t know George, of course.) If he returns to the King, well, that looks as if his is the good cause.’

  ‘Do you trust him?’ Hastings asked bluntly.

  ‘About as far as I can throw him. No, with George it’s self-interest. And I have a good deal of information about George and his self-interest, I have had a spy with him for months.’ He grinned around at us, almost giggling. ‘Let’s hear my spy’s latest report.’ He went to the door and in the next room spoke to someone for a moment, then returned to announce, ‘Gentlemen – the cleverest spy in English service!’

  Astounded, we scrambled to our feet, for the spy was a lady.

  It was Innogen.

  Edward said, ‘Your Grace, my lords, gentlemen: Mistress Shaxper. I believe she is known to some of you.’ Oddly, for she smiled pleasantly and said nothing, in that moment I realised that Innogen disliked Edward.

  I had heard nothing of or from her since her letter about John’s birth. I had told myself she was dead to me; I had had a thousand other women; I had put her from my mind. Now, I took one look at her and knew I truly loved her.

  ‘Yes,’ I said, bowing, ‘I am acquainted with Mistress Shaxper. How do you do, madam? How does it happen that you are spying for the King?’

  She gave me a little glance under her lashes, and winked. And no wonder, for she proceeded to play on that gathering of hard-headed men like a skilled lutanist on her instrument.

  Sinking gracefully into the chair she said, ‘I am in the wool trade, and last year business was taking me up and down England. My path crossed the King’s. You see, I was briefly at Court a year or two ago, so his Grace remembered me when we met.’

  ‘And I learned she was about to go to Burgundy on business, then on to France, so what could be better?’

  ‘What indeed?’ Richard murmured.

  ‘But using a woman... ’ Hastings said, and Innogen’s eyes turned silver. Richard and I hastily crossed our legs.

  ‘I had, shall we say, special qualifications for the task, my lord. Not only my legitimate business interests that allow me to travel without question, and the several languages I speak. You see, I was in Her Grace the Queen’s service, until she dismissed me. She had cause, but you see, I was able to present myself to Clarence as yet another malcontent, a victim of Woodville spite.’ She gave Anthony Rivers a smile that nearly set his hose on fire. ‘Forgive me, my lord; the subterfuge was necessary.’

  ‘Of course, dear lady, of course. The tale would have appealed to Clarence.’

  ‘Well, it did. I let him think the Queen dismissed me because I was the King’s mistress. That is not the case, gentlemen – ’

  ‘No no.’

  ‘Of course not!’

  ‘Who would believe it?’

  ‘Perish the thought.’

  Lying sods, they had all thought precisely that.

  ‘But it made it credible that I should be both loyal to the King and sympathetic to Warwick’s and Clarence’s grievances. I went first to Clarence and his wife; they were kept well away from the French court. The poor Duchess still mourns the baby she lost, and she was lonely, homesick, bewildered. She was glad of another English lady for company. I became quite friendly with the Duke, too.’

  ‘Wonders will never cease,’ said Edward.

  ‘Well, all you have to do is agree with him all the time. Simple. He’s not the clearest thinker in the world, is he? But the alliance with Lancaster shocked him; sickened him.’

  ‘Glad he has that much feeling,’ Richard grunted.

  ‘Yes he has. It’s not only that he is now out in the cold. He despises being allied with the Lancastrians, he loathes Exeter and Somerset and Tudor. Also he’s lonely and miserable and hates being at odds with his family. In short, if you handle him deftly he will return.’

  His chin on his hand, Edward asked, ‘And the situation in England?’

  ‘Things are in a wretched state there, Sire. It would break your heart to see poor King Henry loving and trusting everyone, saying all will be well, longing to get back to his prayers, not a clue what’s going on. London’s seething with every Lancastrian under the sun. Of course the Tudor connections are riding high. Lady Margaret Beaufort is parading her weedy son Harry Tudor as if he were Prince of Wales; he’s calling himself Earl of Richmond again.’ Edward snorted. ‘His uncle Jasper Tudor has gone into Wales, they say, and he was boasting he can raise five thousand men.’

  ‘And the rest?’

  ‘Every faction is turning on the next. Warwick cannot control it, and he knows it. And Clarence wants to return to you, Your Grace. It will have to be a matter of everything forgiven and forgotten, you’ll have to honour him and restore him to all his old positions.’

  ‘The prodigal son, in short.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Edward, you cannot!’ cried Rivers.

  ‘I must. That or have his head.’ Rivers looked as if he thought that a small price to pay. ‘And I cannot bring myself to that. Warwick, yes. Not my brother, once he’s returned to me.’

  ‘If he does,’ Hastings said wryly. ‘It could be a trap. I don’t doubt this lady’s honesty, but what if Clarence and Warwick spun this story to gull you into thinking you can count on Clarence when you return to England?’

  ‘I shall return anyway. I don’t count on him – or not as you mean.’

  ‘And it is not just Mistress Shaxper’s say-so,’ said Richard. ‘Our mother and sisters believe the same. So do I, because I know George. He never could stand being in disgrace.’

  ‘And he loves you and the King,’ Innogen said gently. ‘It’s not entirely self-interest.’ She turned to Edward. ‘Your Grace, write to him. Write again. Assure him of your love and good intentions, promise him whatever’s necessary. Because he is in too deep to stand aside now, he must be for you or against you.’

  ‘I know it. Who else is for me? Would John Neville...’

  ‘I think not. He made the hard choice, and can’t turn back now. As for who else is for you – ’ She listed the people we’d thought of, and a few who had previously been waverers. ‘The people want peace and good government, they don’t much care for rights or feuds – but they know you’ll return, Your Grace, and they want you back, and they know Warwick can’t go on like this in King Henry’s name.’

  ‘Would George,’ Richard asked, ‘still think of making a bid for the throne in his own right?’

  ‘Quite possibly, if things go on as they are.’

  ‘Well, I’ll write to him,’ Edward said, ‘a mixture of threats and promises, laced with my fraternal love. Will you carry the letter back, Mistress Shaxper?’

  Innogen agreed, and the meeting broke up. I found myself standing with Innogen and Richard. ‘Would you care to come back to my house?’ she said. She seemed to mean both of us, and exile had taught us to accept any invitation.

  Her house was near Gruythuuse’s. It was one I’d passed many times and had admired. Now, entering it with Innogen, I couldn’t have told you one thing about it, except that she led us to an upstairs room. I tripped twice on the stairs.

  And in the door of that upper room Innogen stopped and said confusedly, ‘Oh – I’d forgotten – I meant – ’ Then with a resigned little gesture she moved aside. Of course, in my jealousy, I thought that she had a man there.

  No.

  A woman in nursemaid’s clothing sat sewing by the window. On the carpet at her feet a small red-haired child crooned happily to a
toy wooden horse. His hair was Innogen’s. His slatey blue eyes and everything about his face were Richard’s.

  Seeing Innogen he said ‘Ma-ma,’ and displayed a couple of splendid teeth. He started to crawl toward her, then remembered a better way. With frowning effort he rocked back onto his bottom. His hands came down, his arms took the strain, then he was balanced and with the bandy high-stepping gait of the new pedestrian he came giggling towards us. After four steps he lost his balance, windmilled briskly, and sat down with a thud. This was evidently hilarious. ‘Ma-ma,’ he commanded, and Innogen picked him up.

  ‘You will have gathered this is John. Look, John, these are friends of mine.’ The blue eyes inspected us, and, Christ, I had seen the Duke of York look over troops like that. I hadn’t known until then how much I had still hoped that he was mine.

  Richard said, ‘May I hold him?’ and took him from Innogen with an uncle’s casual expertise. They smiled at each other, and John began to eat his hair.

  I knew little of children, but something was expected of me. ‘He seems very healthy,’ I offered. ‘Er – is he forward, or do they all walk and talk at this age?’

  ‘Rather forward. I think he’s clever. Though saying Mama is about his limit so far. Will you take wine?’ She signed to the nurse. We sat down at the table. John went back to his horse.

  ‘You look tired, Jenny.’

  ‘I am. I’ve been travelling so much. Frankly, if I never see the Channel again it will be too soon.’

  ‘Do you get seasick?’

  ‘No, why?’

  ‘Martin gets seasick on damp grass. Innogen, you’re sure about George?’

  ‘As sure as one can be. He’s like a child who’s stolen the jam or damaged a book; he knows he has done wrong, feels he’s suffered enough and longs for his mother to forgive him and make it better with a kiss.’

  ‘That’s about George’s level of understanding, yes. He’s suffered! And I suppose by ‘make it better with a kiss’ you mean Edward will have to butter him up, honour him, make it seem he has never strayed?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Mmm, that’s George. When you were in France, did you see Anne Neville?’ His voice was casual, but Innogen shot me an intrigued look. I nodded.

  ‘Not to speak to. She’s in Queen Margaret’s household. The Queen wanted only a betrothal between her son and Lady Anne, so it could be repudiated later and the prince married to someone more suitable. Warwick and King Louis of course held out for a full marriage. You know they married last December? They don’t live together. She’s not pregnant, it would have been trumpeted from the rooftops if she were.’ The muscles of Richard’s face tightened. Jealous. Serves you right, I thought, pays you back for all the times I’ve had to think of you with Innogen.

  ‘Does he treat her well?’

  ‘He wouldn’t dare not to. Well, he ignores her. Thinks, like his mother, that she is not good enough. Poor Anne, poor little pawn. Did you hear that when Warwick first met Queen Margaret she kept him on his knees before her for a full hour, grovelling and publicly repenting all the ‘wrongs’ he’d done her? They say she made him kiss her feet.’

  ‘Only her feet? What’s the prince like? I saw him once, at Ludlow. Fat brat.’

  ‘Plump. Spoilt brat. Arrogant, bloodthirsty, hasn’t the brains of a flea. He believes he has only to set foot in England and the roads will be lined with adoring crowds cheering him home. Believes too that once he takes the field you and the King will either run away, or be thrashed in five minutes.’ With an edge of malice she said, ‘He is very handsome.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘But only a mother could love him. And of course mother-love is the thing – Margaret of Anjou is desperate to keep him in France, and if Warwick and Louis insist he goes to England she will do anything to keep him from actually fighting. To her, that is what Warwick is for; he’s expendable. Richard, tell the King he must go very soon. It’s as if – well – as if there’s a tide in these affairs, and you take it at the flood or not at all. Tell him to go back, honour George, defeat Warwick. Then Margaret of Anjou and her son will rot in France the rest of their days and it will be the end of Lancaster forever.’

  ‘I agree, and the King knows it too. We go within a month. Well, speaking of armed invasions of England, I must go, there’s a fleet awaiting my all-seeing eye. No need to come, Martin. Jenny, my dear, we shall meet again soon. Goodbye, John.’

  ‘Bye – bye,’ said John, and waved a solemn hand. He even had Richard’s hands: long, slim, shapely, deceptively delicate.

  ‘That’s new,’ Innogen said. ‘Saying goodbye. Now, John, my precious, it is time for bed.’ John didn’t seem to agree, but Innogen handed him firmly to the nursemaid. He gave me a nasty look over the woman’s shoulder, clearly believing it was all my fault.

  Pouring wine, Innogen asked, ‘Does Richard like children?’

  ‘He seems very fond of his nieces and nephews. Well, he’s going to like his own child, isn’t he? Oh Lord, Jenny, you bitch, my darling love, I wanted that baby to be mine. I love you, Innogen, I always have loved you. Very well, before it was a boy’s love, infatuation – and as you told me, I had to grow up. But the love was real. I thought I was over it, over you, till you walked into the King’s room just now. I’m jealous of Richard, jealous of any other man you love, even jealous of John, and if that’s a sin, mea culpa. I love you. I want to marry you.’

  ‘Despite John?’

  I had already decided. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then ask me to!’

  ‘ ...Innogen?’

  ‘I loved you much more than I ever told you; you were quite conceited enough at sixteen. Martin, I know you read Chaucer – think of the Merchant’s Tale. The girl, married to the old man. That was my first marriage. I had an old man for a husband, kind to me, proud of me, jealous of me. He was fond of me in the way a doting father loves a pretty little daughter so long as the daughter remains pretty, and little, and adoring. He was proud of me as proof of his wealth and virility. He wanted me pregnant as soon as we were wed, and when I didn’t conceive he stopped being so proud of me, he beat me. That’s common, he had the right, many men do that – but no man can know what it is like for a woman. Do you see what I mean?’

  ‘Yes, my dear, I do. Jenny, I was so angry with the Queen for dismissing you, but it was my fault, I boasted of having you, every time I heard a man admire you I was there, hackles up, snarling like a dog over its bone. So damnably sure of myself. Jenny, can I ask you one thing, then never speak of it again?’

  ‘Yes,’ she said warily.

  ‘When the King told me you’d been dismissed the Court, he called you notorious, said you had many lovers. No names, but was it true?’

  ‘No. One other, when I first went to Court. It turned out he preferred boys.’ Startled, I laughed and mentioned a name. She nodded. Same chap had made me an offer. ‘Then I saw Richard, or he saw me – Martin, that smile of his should be made illegal. Well, then I saw you. You are the most beautiful man I’ve ever seen, my darling, and I have to admit that I was indiscreet too, every time I heard ladies sighing over you and wondering what you’d be like in bed.’

  ‘Did you ever tell them?’ I asked, laughing and pulling her close.

  ‘No, but I bristled a lot. Mind you, many of those ladies seemed to know.’

  ‘Some, yes. And I’m afraid that some of them were while I was with you. Oh, Jenny my darling. Do you really love me?’

  ‘Yes, sweetheart. I made a mess of things, and even if it had been possible I was too proud to marry you before. It wouldn’t have worked. But pride is cold comfort and I’ve missed you so much, I love you so much.’

  ‘So you will marry me?’

  ‘What about John?’

  ‘He shall be like my own son. I promise to treat him well. Jenny, Innogen, love me, let me love you... No, wait.’ Carefully I placed my father’s emerald ring on her finger. ‘There.’

  She stared down at the ring, saying nothing, f
or so long that I feared she’d had second thoughts. Then, at last, she looked up at me again. Tears were pouring down her face.

  ‘Innogen, my heart, what is it?’

  ‘Happiness. If you only knew how lonely I’ve been all this while and how much I’ve missed you – knowing it was all my fault that I’d hurt us both so much... And now...’ She pressed the emerald ring to her lips. ‘Now I have my heart’s desire. I have you.’

  I took her in my arms, wiping the tears away with my finger. Then I bent my head and kissed her. Our lips met lightly and sweetly but with a power that shook us both. For a long time it was enough just to be holding each other, united at last. Then the other kind of need began to matter badly. I kissed the side of her throat, her shoulder, took her face between my hands to kiss her savagely. She answered me with the same passion, then seemingly without moving we were in her bedchamber and tearing off our clothes, and the long starvation was over. It was like the first time – better – as if we’d been born to fit together; as if, apart, we’d been trying to live without our souls. It was love, and forever.

  ~~~

  We had that one half-day and night of love, then Innogen had to leave for England, bearing the letter of fraternal love to everyone’s favourite duke. To say I missed her is an understatement; it was like trying to exist without food, or breath, or drink. Richard noted the absence of my emerald ring, but he asked no questions – for which forbearance I took him to a tavern and, swearing him to secrecy, told him everything; almost everything. He was as delighted as if it were for himself. We got very drunk; I remember staggering home, arms about each other, enchanting Bruges with a rendition of ‘I sing of a maiden which is matchless’. But we opened our hearts to each other that night. I had not known quite how deep my hurt and jealousy of him had gone, or that he had been jealous of me, and tearing himself apart with guilt. That night, though, these rifts that could have damaged our friendship were repaired.