Authors: Bertrice Small
“Of course, my lady. Come with me, and we will find someone who knows,” the girl said. “The queen is most thoughtful of her guests.”
But no one knew where Adair belonged. No chamber had been set aside for her.
“I have left my belongings in the servants’ dormitory,” Adair told the young serving wench. “Take me back here, and then will you be kind enough to go to
Lady Margaret Beaufort and ask her where I am to go?”
“Of course, my lady,” was her reply. The girl took Adair back to where she had changed, and hurried off.
When she returned she could not meet Adair’s gaze at first.
“Lady Margaret’s woman says you are to remain here for the night, my lady.” And the servant girl blushed with her embarrassment.
Shock rippled through Adair. What was wrong? She had been sent for, and not come uninvited. She drew a long, deep breath. Perhaps the queen had not expected her so soon, and now there was no time to prepare a chamber for her half sister. Very well, Adair thought.
She would remain here, if that was what Mags wanted.
She looked up at the girl, who was clearly distressed. “I have not eaten all day,” she said. “Would it be possible for you to find me something to eat?”
“Oh, yes, my lady, I’ll get you something,” the girl said, clearly relieved to be able to escape this difficult situation. Turning, she ran off.
Adair sat down on a narrow cot. It wasn’t like Bess to overlook things. Something was very wrong, but what, she would not know until she was able to see her half sister. The servant returned with a small trencher of vegetable potage for Adair, who thanked her and began to eat where she was sitting. She ate it all, including the bread trencher. “Will you bring me something in the morning?” Adair asked her. “I shall have to return to the antechamber and wait until the queen agrees to see me.”
“I’ll help you on the morrow,” the girl replied, and then she hurried off again.
Adair slipped out of her gown and lay down, pulling her cape over her. She did not sleep well, listening as servants came in and out of the dormitory as their shifts began and ended. Her friend came in and lay down on the cot next to hers. Adair pretended to be asleep, for
she knew the girl was puzzled by how the queen was treating her own half sister. So was she. Finally, as the gray light of day was beginning to peep through the narrow windows of the dormitory, Adair arose and dressed herself again. The girl brought her porridge in a trencher, and again Adair ate it all, knowing it was unlikely she would see any food until after her audience with the queen.
“I will show you back to the antechamber,” the servant said, and led Adair back through the castle.
When they arrived Adair dug into her purse and drew out a ha’penny, which she gave the girl. “You have been more than kind,” she said. “I don’t even know your name.” She pressed the coin into the girl’s hand.
“It is Mary, my lady, and you are too generous. I was happy to help you, for I remember you when I first came into service here. You were always kind, and always said thank you. Few do, if they notice you at all.”
Then, with a curtsy, Mary scampered off down the corridor.
Adair stepped into the anteroom, which was already beginning to fill up. She went again to the majordomo.
“I am the Countess of Stanton. The queen sent for me.”
“Yes, my lady, I remember you,” he replied. “You must wait. You were not on the list yesterday, and I do not see you today, but I will send a page in to tell the king you are waiting.”
“Thank you,” Adair responded. She found her bench in the corner and waited again, watching as mainly men were called into the royal presence. Some she recognized by their bearing as noblemen. Others were obviously important men of business. There were one or two other women. Finally, to her great relief, the majordomo called out her name, and rising, Adair crossed the chamber and entered through double doors that had been flung open to allow her admittance. She walked slowly down the aisle toward the throne. Elizabeth was sitting to the king’s left, her chair just slightly below her hus
band’s. Adair smiled tremulously, but Elizabeth did not even look at her.
How odd,
Adair thought. Then she saw the king’s mother, her old governess, seated next to the queen. How elegant she looked, Adair considered.
Reaching the throne she curtsied low, and waited to be told to arise.
“Kneel before me, my lady Countess of Stanton,” she heard the king’s voice command. “Kneel before me, and beg my pardon for your treason.”
She was amazed and even startled by his words, but she fell to her knees before Henry Tudor, saying, “But my liege, I have committed no treason against you. You are my king, and I honor you. I will pledge you my fealty now for Stanton.”
“Did your husband, the Earl of Stanton, not come to the usurper Richard’s aid with a troop of Stanton men, madam?” the king asked coldly.
“Stanton has always supported England’s ruler, my liege, and King Richard ruled at that time,” Adair explained. “My husband and his men lost their lives at Bosworth.”
“In defense of a usurper, madam,” the king replied.
“An example must be made of those who would betray their country. And Stanton will pay the price for their defense of the usurper. Because your husband died following Richard of Gloucester I cannot punish him. God will judge him. You alone are left to atone, and so I am stripping you of your lands and title, madam. The title will become extinct. The lands I will give to someone who will be loyal to me, and to England.”
“But Stanton was not my husband’s,” Adair cried out.
“Stanton is my birthright as King Edward’s natural daughter, my liege. Please, I beg of you, do not take it from me!” Adair turned to the young queen. “Bess, you are my blood! We have been friends since the day I arrived at Westminster. Intercede for me, I beg you!”
Elizabeth of York remained silent. She would not even meet Adair’s eyes.
Tears were streaming down Adair’s face now. “Lady Margaret, I beg you to help me,” she pleaded with her old governess, the king’s mother.
But the king’s mother remained silent as well, turning her head away from Adair.
“Let this woman be an example to all who would betray their king,” Henry Tudor said. “I am England’s ruler, and I will remain so until my death. The conflict between Lancaster and York is now over and done with.
We will speak no more on it.”
“I did not betray you, my liege,” Adair said. “Nor did my people. It is unjust to punish us. Has England not suffered enough over the years, caught in this war between Lancaster and York? Aye, you are England’s
new
king, but that does not mean that those who followed England’s old king are traitors to you. This marriage between my royal half sister and Your Majesty settles the matter between your families, brings peace to England at last.”
The king stared coldly at Adair, and she felt her anger beginning to get the better of her. She knew better, and yet she could bear no more. Her husband was dead, and now they would take Stanton from her. She rose to her feet. “Yesterday, my liege, I sat in your antechamber waiting for my half sister to receive me. I listened to the foulest slanders against King Richard, and I remained silent. Why do you allow such vile mouthings to be spoken of your predecessor? Your own wife’s beloved uncle. It is not worthy of you, for I know the mother who raised you, my liege. She raised me as well.”
“You would defend a murderer of children then, madam?” the king demanded.
“Our uncle loved all children! Bess, how can you believe this of Uncle Dickon? You know he would not hurt any child. He kept my half brothers safe at Middleham. It was only after his death—” Adair cried, stopping at the king’s thunderous look.
“You forget yourself, madam, and you forget to
whom you speak,” Henry Tudor said in measured tones.
“You will leave our presence, and never come into it again. You are banished from the court. You will not refer to your connections again on pain of further punishment should we learn of it. You are bastard-born, madam, and this day you have shown your true and traitorous colors despite the many advantages that you were given.” The king nodded to two of his men at arms.
“Escort this woman from the castle. She may take with her what she brought.”
“My liege,” Adair spoke again. “If you take Stanton from me what am I to do? Where am I to go?”
“We do not care where you go, madam. As for what you should do, you can whore for your bread, like your mother before you,” the king told her brutally.
The two liveried men at arms stepped up to stand on either side of Adair. With an elegant curtsy, for she would not allow them to say she had no manners, Adair turned and left the chamber where the king had been receiving petitioners. “My belongings are in the serving women’s dormitory,” Adair told them. “My horse is in the stable.”
They escorted her to the dormitory, waiting outside while Adair changed from her fine gown back into her riding garments. She didn’t care what the king said: She was going home to Stanton. It was all she knew, and while she might no longer be the Countess of Stanton, Stanton was her home. The king would neither know nor care where she had gone. Her lands would be given to someone in Henry Tudor’s favor who would probably never lay eyes on them, but would just enjoy the possession of them. Lifting her two saddlebags up, she exited the chamber to rejoin her guard. But they were gone, and instead she found a serving woman.
“You’re to come with me, lady,” the woman said.
Adair did not argue, but followed the servant through a series of dimly lit corridors until they reached a door that opened into a small room where Lady Margaret
Beaufort was waiting. “Mags!” Then Adair curtsied.
“Forgive me, madam. It is just that I am relieved to see you.”
“Come in, Adair,” Lady Margaret said. “I am sorry for your troubles.”
“If you would but intercede for me, my lady. I don’t care about the title, but it is Stanton that means so much to me. You know I am loyal.”
“Sit down,” Lady Margaret replied. She handed Adair a small goblet. “Drink. I think you need to calm your nerves.” She turned to the serving woman. “Wait outside, and when we are done escort Mistress Radcliffe to the stables, where her horse is awaiting her.” When the servant had left the little chamber, the king’s mother turned back to Adair. “Now, my dear, tell me what you meant that the princes were alive at Middleham after Bosworth. How can you possibly know this?”
“Uncle Dickon removed my half brothers from the Tower after he was crowned. He felt the atmosphere there was not healthy for growing boys. They were taken to Middleham to be with their cousin. I saw them there myself, although I never spoke with them. A young servant who slept in their chamber came to me late last autumn. He told me that they were brought word of Uncle Dickon’s death and King Henry’s ascen-sion, and that same night the two men who had come to Middleham crept into the princes’ bedchamber. He was asleep on a pallet in the corner of the room, and they did not know he was there. Some little noise awakened the servant, and he saw the men smother the two boys.
He could not help them, and was in fear of his own life.
After they had left, carrying the coverlet-swaddled bodies of my little half brothers, he fled the castle and came to Stanton, begging me to protect him.”
“Did he see any badges of service on these men when they arrived at Middleham?” Lady Margaret wanted to know.
Adair shook her head. “If he did he did not say, and
would probably not have recognized such badges, madam,” she lied. Better she keep silent for her own safety.
“Unfortunate,” Lady Margaret said slowly, her slender, elegant fingers drumming softly on the arm of her chair. “I never thought that Richard had killed the boys, or even ordered it done. But now we shall never know who did.” She arose. “You must be going now, I know.
Thank you for speaking with me.”
Adair had risen too. “Can you not intercede for me with the king?” she asked softly. “Let me keep Stanton.
It can be of no use to the king, and who among his court would want property in the northwest corner of Northumbria, my lady?”
“My son is angry right now,” Lady Margaret responded, “and he feels the need to solidify his position by making public examples. Why did you speak to him as you did? I know you know better, for you were among my best pupils. But Henry is not cruel or unreasonable. Go home, Adair, and I will see if eventually he can be reasoned with, but in the meantime I will make certain that Stanton is given to no one else. Your title, however, I cannot regain for you. I am sorry.”
“The title means little to me, my lady. I will relinquish it gladly if I can retain Stanton. Will I be given an escort home? I am a woman, and cannot travel alone.”
“It is barbaric, I will admit, but I dare not order such an escort in defiance of my son’s rule. You must make your way on your own, I fear. God go with you, child.”
Adair curtsied. “Thank you, Lady Margaret,” she said. “You will tell my sister, Elizabeth, that I will pray she delivers a son. She is with child, I am told.”
“She is,” was the reply. “And I will pass along to her your good wishes. Do not think harshly of Bess, Adair.
She was raised to do her duty. She will always be loyal to my son first. I even believe they are growing truly fond of each other. You are unlikely to hear from her ever again.”
Adair nodded. “Tell her I understand,” she said. And then with another curtsy she left the little chamber to find the serving woman awaiting her.
“I’ll take you to the stables, mistress,” she said.
Adair followed the woman through another series of corridors until they finally emerged into the stable yard.
“Have you Mistress Radcliffe’s horse ready?” the servant called out, and Adair’s horse, saddled and ready, was brought forth. The woman stepped close to Adair and said, “My mistress told me earlier to tell you to tuck your hair beneath your cap, mistress. You can pass for a lad at a distance then. She says to beg shelter from convents, and asked that I give you this bag of coins.” The servant pressed a small chamois bag into Adair’s hand.