The Queen of Last Hopes (29 page)

“It’s been a while,” I said evasively, thinking it impolitic to mention that the last tournament I’d been in was after poor Henry’s ill-fated Loveday.

“Well, you’ll be jousting again. I’m holding a tournament in your honor in May. I won’t be in it myself—I’m not particularly accomplished, and I’m in no hurry to see my brother George land in my throne—but we should be able to attract some fine jousters. Lord Scales, for instance.”

This was Anthony Woodville, who along with his father had switched his allegiance to York after Palm Sunday Field.
See?
I reminded myself.
Other men had changed their loyalties
. Surely they didn’t feel as miserable as I did some nights when I walked through the king’s elegantly decorated chambers and pictured poor Henry living in borrowed lodgings in Scotland. “I’m honored. But don’t you think it might irritate people?”

“Oh, sod them. You can even bring Joan Hill,” he added coaxingly. “She can’t sit with my sisters, mind you, but we’ll find her a nice place with the merchant’s wives to sit. You’re too melancholy; some jousting will do you good.”

I blinked, taken aback as usual at his perception. For all Edward seemed to have genuinely loved his father, the men couldn’t have been more different; if York had possessed a shred of sensitivity, I’d never noticed it. “I thought I hid it well.”

“Not at all. You’re still fond of old Henry, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” I admitted, hoping that Edward didn’t ask me if I was fond of Margaret. “When my father came back with us from Rouen back in 1450, Henry was kind to us,” I said, staring up at the bed canopy as the memory came back. “Father was in disgrace at the time, and Henry treated us as if we’d come back full of glory. I was fourteen and feeling ashamed, and being treated that way meant a great deal to me at the time. It could have been so much different.”

Not, my ever-alert if not always effective conscience promptly reminded me, that Henry’s kind treatment of me had stopped me from lying with his queen or deserting him. I sighed.

“Well,” said Edward briskly, “he’s a kind man, no doubt, but his claim to the throne is inferior to mine, and he was a damn bad king when he wore the crown. But when we catch him, we’ll treat him kindly, if that makes you feel better.” He yawned and rolled over. “Good night, Somerset.”

“Good night, your grace.”

In five minutes, the snoring had begun. I lay on my back and waited it out, still staring at the canopy and thinking what a convenient thing it would be if the ceiling caved in upon me.

***

“What in the world are you wearing?” Anthony Woodville asked me as our pages dressed us for the tournament. There had been some murmurs of anger when the other jousters had seen me there, but Edward had made a great show of coaxing me to take my turn in the lists.

“What does it look like?” I preened. “A straw hat.” It was large and floppy brimmed, like a peasant might wear while working in the fields.

“You’ll get killed without a proper helm if you’re unhorsed.”

“But I won’t get unhorsed. I’ve been practicing, I’ll have you know. My son and his mother are here, and I mustn’t disgrace them.”

“Your opponents will be aiming at that damned hat of yours.”

I grinned at Anthony. “Better than at my balls.”

Anthony looked mildly distressed; I’d forgotten that he had a distinctly straitlaced side. Still, I’d been pleased when he arrived in London for the tournament and actually proved willing to converse with me, so I changed the subject. “Tell me, Anthony. When you came over to the king after Palm Sunday Field, how long did it take anyone to say a civil word to you?”

“Not that long, but there were a lot of us who made our peace then, you know. We didn’t stick out the way you do. But Warwick’s still chilly to my father.” Lord Rivers had been admitted to Edward’s council the year before. “But that’s because my father’s not of noble stock, and the same can’t be said of you. They’ll come round after you’ve been here a few more months.” He fingered the brim of my hat and shook his head. “If they don’t put you away as a madman first.”

As I rode out, I saw that Edward’s sisters were sitting in the stands, along with the king’s mother, the Duchess of York, who fixed me with a glare. I wondered what on earth Edward had promised her to get her to this tournament, which after all was unofficially in my honor. I couldn’t imagine her holding out for less than a manor. Elizabeth, the Duchess of Suffolk—married to the son of William de la Pole, Margaret’s murdered friend—merely scowled, while Anne, the Duchess of Exeter, whose estranged husband still served the House of Lancaster, made a point of studying her fingernails. The Lady Margaret, at seventeen the king’s only unmarried sister, was a pretty, gawky girl who even seated towered over the other ladies: she must have been nearly as tall as most men. As she was not glowering at me like her mother, but staring at my straw hat and giggling, I decided to offer my lance to her. “The Knight of the Straw Hat wishes a favor of the Lady Margaret,” I called.

Margaret sneaked a look toward her mother, who gave a clipped nod and heaved a martyred sigh. She tied a ribbon around the lance and I swept my hat off my head in thanks. “My, he’s handsome,” I heard her say as I rode off.

“He’s a turncoat and a murderer,” the good Duchess of York corrected her. “I hope someone breaks that handsome head of his.”

But no one did; I had been practicing. Anthony Woodville carried off the top honor, but I was right behind him. The next day, Mrs. Hill and Charles vied with each other as to who could tell the most people in Eastcheap about my prowess as a jouster, and Joan insisted upon me wearing my straw hat in bed with her the following night. “It’ll fall off,” I protested.

Joan set it firmly upon my head. “Not if you’re on your back,” she explained, and proceeded to prove her point.

***

But an even more pleasant event happened during the early part of that Yorkist summer of mine: Edward ordered my brother Edmund to be set free from the Tower. I was waiting for him when the guards took him out. After a year in the place, my father, who’d been lodged in some comfort, had looked bad enough; Edmund after two years of confinement looked even worse, his face listless as he stepped out to freedom. Then he caught sight of me and his expression brightened so much it hurt to watch. “Hal!”

We embraced each other for a long time; I could feel the bones in his back. “Come along,” I said finally as I released him, both of us close to tears. “There’s a barge waiting for us.”

“What about my things?”

“I’ve arranged with the constable to have them sent.”

“But he might forget.”

“Edmund, no one’s going to forget, I promise.”

He reluctantly let me lead him along before coming to a halt. “Where are you taking me?”

“To my house.” I’d rented one in London for when I wasn’t staying at Westminster or with Joan in Eastcheap, though I hardly ever used it.

“I don’t want to be around Edward.”

“I’m not taking you around Edward. Don’t worry. Now come. I’ve a surprise at my house.”

“Hal, if it’s a woman, don’t even think of it. I’m not up for carousing.”

“Not even a drink at your favorite tavern?”

“I don’t have a favorite tavern in London.”

“Then we’ll go straight to my house. And I promise, no woman.”

Edmund nodded and walked silently beside me, staring at the cobblestones beneath our feet, as I studied him covertly, trying to see if anything of my old prankster brother remained. When we approached the landing, he at last flickered to life. “That’s yours?”

He was indicating the handsome barge awaiting us. “No. The king has let me use it.” I watched as my men helped him in. “You won’t get seasick on me, will you, having been so long on dry land?”

For the first time, Edmund managed a grin. “I’ll aim for the side if I do.” He pointed to a turret as we glided away from the Tower. “That’s where I was held. But I couldn’t see more than a bit of the river from my window.”

“They must have kept you close,” I said gently.

“Yes. It was your being in favor with the king that got me out, I suppose?”

I nodded. “It helped, you might say. The hope that you’d be set free was one of the reasons I deserted Lancaster.”

“I hated it there. Sometimes I thought I’d never see the outside of the Tower. Thank you.”

He relapsed into silence, though this time he was at least looking with some interest at the structures lining the Thames. Presently, we arrived at my house near Westminster. Compared to some of the grander residences surrounding it, it was a small place (I wasn’t a particularly wealthy duke even at the best of times), but it was a pleasant one, which I hoped would make my jumpy brother a little more relaxed. As we walked up from the river landing and headed toward the entrance, I said, “Edmund, I lied to you. There is a woman here.”

“Hal, I told you—”

My mother stepped forward and took my brother in her arms. “My dear boy,” she whispered, and burst into tears.

***

Mother and her husband, Sir Walter Rokesley, had arrived in London the day before, along with my youngest brother, John, and several of my sisters. Settling on the lawn that sloped down to the Thames, we spent the day eating and talking. I couldn’t remember the last time all of us had been together. “I just wish my Tom were here with the rest of you,” my mother said after a while. “Hal, do you think he’ll ever make his peace with York?”

“I don’t know,” I said, trying to shut out the memory of that day we’d separated at Bamburgh, Tom to rejoin Henry and Margaret, I to betray my allegiance. “If he hasn’t by now, I rather doubt that he ever will.”

My mother fingered the necklace that my father had given to her years ago. “I still mourn your father,” she said softly. “And I hate to see Warwick so powerful. But some days I just wish that Henry and Margaret would just give in, so I could have my boys all here with me in England.”

***

But Henry and Margaret weren’t giving up; soon word came that they were planning to invade England with a Scottish army. Warwick went up north to deal with the problem himself. By early July Edward had decided to bring his own force up—with me in his entourage. What if Henry and Margaret accompanied their army to battle? Leading forces against either or both of them was the situation I’d most dreaded since I joined Edward’s forces. But if I did not go, my loyalties would be forever suspect.

“Do you really think you’ll be able to fight against them?” Joan asked me the afternoon before I was supposed to depart from London. The two of us were riding on my horse, and Edmund and Charles were riding on my brother’s horse. To put it more accurately, Edmund, Charles, and I were riding and Joan was clutching me for dear life. Only my insistence that Charles be taught to ride had induced her to get upon a horse, though this was the gentlest I owned.

“Christ, I hope not.” I’d never told Joan, or anyone else in my family outside of Tom, about my relationship with Margaret, but I supposed that my family ties with Henry were enough to account for my earnest tone of voice. “I don’t even want to think of it.”

“Hal—oh! Can’t you slow this thing down?”

“This
thing
is a magnificent beast, and she is not even trotting. She’s barely walking. But if you insist.” I patted Grisel, who turned her head and gave me a quizzical look. “Easy, girl.”

“I was saying,” Joan resumed when we had settled into such a stately pace that my horse could have grazed if she had chosen to, “maybe if you don’t want to think about fighting against them, you shouldn’t be going with the king.”

“It’s not that simple. What if I were to abandon Edward? Edmund would be clapped back into prison. Our son would be a traitor’s bastard. My mother would have to go back to borrowing money from her sisters. That’s how she’d got along these past few years, you know, up until this year when the king restored her annuity. And I’ve come to like Edward.” I looked at Edmund and Charles, trotting into the distance. “You know, I could catch up on my correspondence here while we’re riding. If only I’d brought pen and parchment.”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“I know. It’s a beautiful day and I don’t want to think of disagreeable things.” I turned and kissed her. “I love you. You’ve made these last few months very happy for me, and it’s really more than I’ve deserved.”

“I love you.” Joan sighed. “But if you do stay true to the king, you’ll soon be getting yourself a wife.”

“Let’s face that when the time comes.” I nudged Grisel to a stop and dismounted, roped Grisel to a tree, and lifted Joan to the ground, then pointed to a secluded area nearby. “What do you say we take a break from riding?”

“What if Charles and Edmund come back?”

“Edmund will give us time. Brothers have a sense about these things.”

Joan smiled and let me take her on the warm soft grass, the birds chirping merrily in accompaniment to our soft whispers and groans. Afterward, I lay there stroking her hair, reluctant to let reality intrude in on our golden summer day. But something did have to be said, and with the sharp-eared Charles gone, now was the best time to say it. “Joan, there could be a battle up north. I need you to promise me two things. First, that if you or Charles ever needs money or help of any other kind, you’ll come to Edmund or one of my other brothers or sisters, or even my mother. She might fuss about it, but it will all be for show; she’d never let you or my child be in want. Second, that if you ever feel that Charles is in danger, for whatever reason, you’ll send him abroad. You have those names of my friends in Bruges I gave you, and the men in London who can help you contact them.”

“I promise,” Joan said. She held me tightly against her, then rose on her elbow and adjusted her clothes as we heard the sound of an approaching horse. “Aren’t they going awfully fast?”

“Compared to your average snail, yes,” I said, making myself presentable and emerging into the open just as Edmund and Charles appeared.

“Look, Papa! Uncle Edmund let me take the reins.”

“And a good job he’s done with them,” Edmund said, grinning at us knowingly.