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It had been a gloriously sunny day and at the height of summer, a series of fairs and celebrations had been held for the people of London and a sumptuous feast for the nobles of the land. Many had been called to court but one man was most important in the council’s eyes and the young King Henry VI had instructed Richard of York to attend his presence after they dined. This was, of course, only the third year of King Henry’s reign in is own right as he had finally demanded to hold his own council and had already made his feelings known towards the various factions that had arisen between his uncles, Beaufort and Gloucester. But while he had taken somewhat to his kingly duties, the King could still be easily led.
His cousin, Richard of York was a man of many talents and often the council and the King found great use for them. Richard had become one of the prominent nobles of the land after finally receiving the due of his uncle’s inheritance, the Dukedom of York. But it was the death of his mother’s father – Edmund, Earl of March – that gave the council pause for with that, not only did the rich March inheritance also pass to Richard, but so too the powerful Mortimer claim being descended from Lionel of Antwerp, Edward III’s second son. In all ways, the twenty nine year old Richard was a man to watch and welcome but only so far.
The two knew each other well, having grown up together for much of Henry’s childhood as many children of peerage had done. Ten years his junior, Henry had often looked up to Richard as children and found him grand company when time and circumstances permitted. The same could not be said in reverse though not by any personal disdain the Duke might have felt for the King. Rather, it was the Duke’s position or lack thereof, and the lingering feelings over his father’s death and attainder that held him at arm’s length and though he was entirely reticent to show any disfavor or anger towards the King, he would try very hard not to show his disillusion with the King’s men and often he was unsuccessful in his attempts.
But on this day, he came to the King with great pleasure and a deep smile, dropping into a generous bow and holding until the young King asked him to stand. Richard’s flowing robes brushed the ground as he stood with a grand sweep of his arm in deference to the King and he stood silently and waited for Henry to speak.
“Dear cousin of York, how does the Lord find you this day?” Henry stood and walked near the Duke, showing his advance in height that he did not share in age.
“Most gracious King, it is kind of you to ask. It would be unworthy of me not to speak highly of the bountiful meal served and great favor with which the Lord God has blessed us all.” Richard pointed towards the window that was currently allowing a great light to enter the room, bathing the two men in warmth.
“Indeed, it has found us well met.” Henry smiled.
Richard remained silent as the King walked to the window and looked out, speaking as he did so, “It has come to this when we must ask again for your great services abroad. Do you object?”
“I do not, my King. Only ask and I shall serve with all of my abilities.” Richard bowed slightly as Henry turned to look at him.
“A wonderful day, indeed. Yes.” Henry smiled as he looked upon Richard. What the man lacked in height he made up for in stoutness and good health. “You have the makings of a great leader, dear cousin. And France shall be ever so grateful to have you, we imagine.”
“It is I that am grateful, Your Grace,” once more Richard showed reverence and bowed.
“A pity that your last tenure in Normandy was so short lived. We do hope we have found it in your heart to forgive us our lack of assistance in prior times. Rest assured you shall have a goodly sum to help your cause. 20,000 pounds per annum we are capable of offering. Does this suit your purposes, sir?”
“Indeed it does, Your Grace. But if I may question…”
“Please do.”
“Will not the Earl of Somerset be reticent to give up his post?”
As Richard asked the question, an aged voice was heard as the Cardinal Henry Beaufort entered the great room. “He should be pleased to have returned to the bosom of his most gracious liege, my Lord. Fear not that score.”
Richard turned to the Cardinal and offered a half-hearted welcome at first but it grew larger when the King showed some slight displeasure. “Then I must prepare,” Richard finally spoke directly to the King. “I should waste little time to serve Your Grace with all that I can offer.”
King Henry clapped his hands together slightly and walked to the Duke, placing his still slender arm over Richard’s shoulder, “You must keep us informed at every turn, of course, but we should be most pleased to see our offices filled with such bright men as yourself. Cousin…you do us a great service and we shall not forget this kindness.”
“It is not kindness, my King, but my duty to the realm and your great person.”
“Splendid,” Henry smiled and walked away from the Duke, seating himself once more and bowing his head almost as if to pray.
“That will be all, my Lord. Please do send word when you have crossed the channel,” the Cardinal waived the Duke away and with deep bows, Richard backed from the room.
Once he was gone, the Cardinal moved towards the King, “Does Your Grace wish to rest?”
“Indeed, good Cardinal,” Henry answered looking up and then out of the window once more. “We are afraid the food and sun combine to bring a great heaviness upon our person.”
“Very good, Your Grace. I shall call for you shortly and then perhaps a walk around the gardens. ‘Tis a fine day.”
“That it is, good uncle. That it is.” Henry slowly walked from the room seemingly in good spirits and off in thought about one thing or another.
After he left, another voice was heard entering from a door behind the throne, “The Duke shall bark, I am afraid.”
“Nonsense, William. He may grumble but he’ll not bite. Not now. It would serve him little purpose.”
The Earl of Suffolk walked to the window and looked out as he spoke, “He has much to bark about, to be sure.”
“It is precisely so that he shall be put to use in Normandy and thus far away. I dare say his bite, if he has such, shall be far less painful.” The Cardinal countered.
“I must trust you on this, my Lord Cardinal. But even he understands your brother’s sure disappointment. And I cannot say that we shall have the promised funds, especially after settling accounts with Somerset.”
Cardinal Beaufort flashed a broad smile, “Leave my nephew to me, William. And worry not over the Duke of York. As I say, if he desires a seat amongst us, he shall have to play the game and earn our trust. And if he abandons his post again, we shall have all the grounds to permanently bar his entrance.”
“You seem to have it finely planned, my dear Cardinal Beaufort,” William de la Pole, Earl of Suffolk turned and smiled. “You continue to teach me well.”
“As long as I have breath in my body, my son, I shall always do so.”
She was seventeen years old and there was not a man alive that could resist both her beauty and her charm. Margaret of Anjou seemed as if she was born to be a Queen. Her regal bearing, her high intelligence and her many talents were evident and none cared for her more than her King Henry VI. However, they had now been married for two years and as yet had not found issue. It was due to this that in certain circles, rumors began that perhaps the Queen was having an affair...or multiple affairs. After all, none could resist her powerful aura and there was no lack of potential suitors. Even William de la Pole, Earl of Suffolk, who had been reserved when he first met the Queen had changed his song and compared Margaret to a pretty flower in romantic verse devoted to her. This of course caused many to consider him one such partner. Another was Edmund Beaufort, Earl of Somerset. Often seen by her side at court functions until he was sent to Normandy to replace the Duke of York, their playful and flirtatious banter was heard by many.
Yet if the King had reservations or jealousy of such, it was not apparent. Henry doted on his Queen and showered her with gifts. He was easily led by her and almost appeared to request it. Where he was sometimes indecisive, she knew her mind instantly. Where he could be seen as too forgiving, she could be quite vindictive especially if something seemed a slight to her regal husband. Henry allowed her every whim, even going so far as to consent to her desire of being included in briefings of government, both domestically and military decisions. She often signed her name along with that of the King on his correspondence. To detractors (of which there were a few) it seemed as if they were truly co-rulers. But if the powers in the court party led by Suffolk and Somerset found trouble with this arrangement, they did not speak out. In truth, they appeared to encourage it. If the King was pleased, then they were happy and able to carry out their desires. And if Margaret was happy, then the King was pleased.
This day was one of those days. Traveling via the Thames, the King and Queen were touring the former residence of the late Duke of Gloucester. When Humphrey died, his property reverted to the crown and today Henry planned to gift this fine palace to his Queen. The couple were joined by the new Royal Treasurer George Carleton and Margaret’s constant companion since arriving in England, the knight Pierre de Brézé. In fact, it was Pierre that led the party as they moved through the gardens as if the gift was as much for him as it was for her. This was not an uncommon occurrence. He was known as her “chevalier servant” and had been by her side from before traveling to England having once been one of the most loyal subjects to her Lord father Rene d’Anjou. He was tall, handsome, strong...and nearly twenty years her senior. On rumors of affairs, his name likely came up more than any other.
“Ma Reine...” he exclaimed as they moved through the gardens, “...voici un endroit merveilleux pour une tonnelle!”
Margaret smiled at him but wagged a dainty finger, “Ah, ah, ah...en anglais s'il vous plait.”
Pierre was duly chastened and replied with a grin, “An arbour, madam. To feast, to sip...to set in shade and enjoy the surrounds.”
“An excellent idea, monsieur,” she smiled again and looked to her husband with question.
Henry took in her smile and returned it before looking to his treasurer, “Can it be done?”
George Carleton nodded slowly, slightly reticent but not wishing to anger the Queen, “Whatever Her Grace desires, my King. To be certain.”
She clapped and grinned as she took Pierre by the arm and walked on. As they continued their tour, she herself had many ideas, “Mayhap new latticed windows...here and there. To update the place.”
Pierre gave nod, “But of course. Perhaps to re-glaze the others?”
“Oui, oui!” she exclaimed and then pointed again, “And the floor tiles. They are in need of care. The former occupant has not kept with the fashion. Terracotta, do you not think?”
“A very wise choice, ma reine,” Pierre agreed, “With your monogram inlaid I should think.”
Margaret was enthusiastic and chatted on as Henry walked behind discussing with his treasurer, “Are you getting all of this?”
Carleton gave nod as he wrote, “Most certainly, Your Grace. Now shall this all be coming from your royal treasury, or shall some be culled from the Queen’s purse?”
A sharp glance back to him from Margaret caused him to go tight lipped, “Of course, Your Grace. The royal treasury.”
Henry smiled as caught up to his Queen. He took her hand and gave it a gentle kiss, “As long as we are placing your personal touches, mayhap new columns erected outside carved with marguerites, eh?”
“My blessed lord husband,” Margaret brushed his cheek as she looked to Pierre, “He does spoil me.”
Pierre offered a low bow of respect, “A most gracious King.”
She then went on to inspect the rest of the palace, “I should think new chambers would be built. I think not to lay in rest where the traitor slept. With a parlour and a gallery to overlook the gardens. New tapestries...”
“Whatever is your wish, my love,” Henry followed her as Pierre looked on with a grin.
“...and I think this furniture all too dated. It must be replaced.”
“My Lady Queen,” Carleton caught up, “The palace was only built in 1443 and the late Lord of Gloucester was certain that all was the most elegant.”
Pierre took a step towards him, “If madam desires it, monsieur.”
A look from the King was all that was required for him to acquiesce, “I’m certain that it can be arranged.”
Henry clapped, “Then it is settled. Any change that you desire. It shall be your house in every way.”
As the King conferred with his treasurer, Margaret and Pierre moved back into the sunlight surrounded by the gardens. Pierre smiled as he looked to the beauty, “He loves you very much, madam. Such a wonder to have such a caring benefactor.”
Margaret laughed, “Benefactor, monsieur? You jest! I have my own purse...my own means.”
“Mais oui,” he agreed but cocked a brow, “Yet to gift you this grand property. And that it comes from his still very much beloved uncle.”
“Who loves him?” she turned with a flare of her lips.
Pierre gave a slight bow, “There are those that continue to name him Good Duke Humphrey. This may...might be considered a slap to those supporters.”
“If they are not to care for me, then what care shall I have for them?” Margaret ventured to a stone bench and sat with confidence, “They are not of the court and their whispers are just that. Nothing but grievance and jealousy. You speak of benefactors, monsieur? Well...theirs is gone from them and so they will grumble.”
“Yet...” Pierre sat gently next to her, “...did not this Duke have children? Will they not seek to gain their inheritance?”
Margaret shrugged her dainty shoulders as she looked to the gardens, “I know not. And I care not. What I see before me is all promise and future. A beautiful garden, full of pleasure to be gained. In truth, I think to rename the place. Bella Court gets close to it, monsieur. But I think...Placentia. A far better naming, to my mind. A pleasant place to live. With you by my side...”
“But of course, ma reine,” Pierre gave nod with a grin.
“...And Suffolk and Somerset may come to me from this point on,” Margaret stood and shifted to brush at the flowers, “...and I think my lord husband the King may find it more pleasing himself. Perhaps a place to finally find me with child. His child. His son.”
Pierre raised a brow, “His most needed son.”
“The only son...” Margaret turned to her chevalier servant with determination, “...that matters.”
It had thus far been a Whitsun like most others and the festival had been a nice diversion from some of the dread that seemed to sit over the people of Kent like a dark cloud. Allen Leighson leaned to an ale cart and tasted the wares with a slim smile. His cheeks were growing warmer and he was looking forward to a summer in which he might make some decent coin. Soldiers were still returning from France, but with them came the tide of French pirates. The men of Kent were less than thrilled with this but it bothered Allen little.
There was some fear that William Crowmer, the Sheriff of Kent, might try to stifle the celebration such was his and others anger over the death of the Duke of Suffolk. The news had traveled quickly throughout the land when the body of the late Duke was found to the beaches of Dover. Men such as Crowmer and Lord Say, the Treasurer of England were convinced, it seemed, that Kent had been responsible for the atrocity, but Allen found it difficult to see that. Tensions ran high, but Kentishmen remained loyal to the crown in every way.
That was before this day. Allen nearly felt a chill to his bones as he saw a crush of men burst into the already sizable crowd. Were they Crowmer’s? Or some other? His answer came soon enough when he spied John Cade lead yet another line of men into the crowd. As he looked at them, they were not peasants either. Not merely merchantmen. They seemed better dressed and he even recognized one as an older knight returned from France. He tried to remember...had that man fought with his father?
Cade spied his friend and took strong steps to great him, “Leighson, my own pal, tis good to see you here!”
“What you up to this day, Jack?” Allen squinted through the sun.
The younger man offered a wicked smile with his answer, “You’ll see.”
A cart was drawn up to the center of the field and John Cade was quick to jump up and hold his hands high, “Good men of Kent! You do honor our land by showing to this place this day! And I see so many of you that I do know. And you do know me, do you not?!”
Many did as they shouted in the affirmative and it was then that Allen noticed how many of these new men were armed with axes, poles and other arms. Cade laughed and continued, “It fills my heart with good cheer that you men be not afraid of the wrath of a woman, for it is clear to us all that this Lady of France...this considered Queen has wishes and the means to avenge the death of her lover!”
Jeers followed from the crowd as several shouted, “No regrets to Suffolk!!!”
“For you do know...” Cade continued, “...that if we do not act in our favor, she will see our very homes razed to the ground! This will go for all good men of Kent...every peasant and farmer, from top to bottom, sirs!!”
“Never!!” more shouts were heard.
John Cade raised a pamphlet in his right hand, “You all do know that I have published this writing! I have made many copies for all to read for I do know you all to be learned and informed. Over all, you be practical men that know to protect your hearth and home! In this writing, I give to all that is wrong in this land. The alienation of Crown lands! The financial state of the realm and the bribery that runs rampant between these men of the so-called court party! There is corruption in the appointment of our local government officials and a perversion of justice by His Grace’s royal favorites! And we be might ill served by the rigging of our good Parliament such that we have no representation at all!”
Boos and hisses sounded as Cade continued, “This is all corruption by the men that serve our King and worst of all, it is these men that have lost us our lands to France and worse still invite piracy upon our coasts! You above all know this as it is seen near daily! And they do all this as they slight the good Lord of York who sits to the sideline in Ireland. We do know his disfavor of these men of the court faction and we stand with him on this day!”
“A York, A York!!” several shouted and Cade gave a large nod of his head.
“Instead, we are given to us what is left of Suffolk’s government...his toadies! Crowmer who would see us all hanged! The wicked Lord Say! The Queen’s own Chancellor, William Booth. Other terrible men instead of a good Lord as York has proven! And so, if we are not to find our representation by his lights, we shall have to make our own demands!”
“What shall we do, Jack?!” a man near the front shouted and Cade held up his hand once more.
“I will tell you how we redress these wrongs and amend our poor government,” he followed, “We shall demand that the King resume all the lands he hath given away! He must dismiss these ill men of Suffolk’s affinity from Council and call home the Duke of York to take his rightful place! The King needs must order a sweeping reform of the judicial system so that men as Crowmer may have no effect to us as well as lift wage restraints that hold us all low! There must be curbs upon government spending and an inquiry into whether the loss of lands in France were the result of treason! We do suspect Suffolk, but who else must be held to account?! And while we make demands, we must press the King to bring the murderers of Good Duke Humphrey to justice for we know that Gloucester’s death was no accident! It be foul in every way and brought forth surely by these ill men, all of them!”
Many cheered at this list of demands and some even began to chant, “John Amend-All!!”
“It is not I that shall make amends,” Cade returned the chant, “For it is all of you that will cause it! We shall mark this day and begin our march to London, good sirs! It is said that the King and his court rest to Leicester while the ill Parliament is in session, but he must needs return to deal with us! We shall force it!!”
“Huzzah!!” many shouted and Cade responded with his own cry of the same. Then he stepped down and began to point towards London as he met Allen’s eyes. The older man had not been swayed, but John Cade pressed, “Now do you see, Leighson?”
“You would push me to fight, when I hold a coward’s heart?” Allen asked plainly.
Cade flashed a grin, “We do not fight, sir. We will make our demands with strength and the King will have little choice but to grant them.”
“I fear you to be a fool, Jack,” Allen responded but took down the rest of his ale, “Yet I will go with. I shall see for mine own eyes.”
Cade put his arm around his friend as they walked, “You’ll see, mate. As we march, others will follow. And if not...I have another idea.”
Allen Leighson remained unsure but gave a tepid nod, “You always do, Jack...you always do.”
He was young and handsome. Very well dressed as all would be that might visit from Burgundy, the acknowledged pinnacle of culture and taste throughout the entirety of Europe. The Duke would not be awed by his regal demeanor but he was impressed. The Count of Charolais carried himself with confidence and of all things that Richard of York respected, this itself was much respected. It did not harm their meeting that they were also quite distant cousins. Charles of Burgundy counted as one of his grandparents Philippa of Lancaster, daughter of John of Gaunt, and wife to King João of Portugal. Given that both could count King Edward III as relative, and important to Richard, this was why he sought out the meeting.
Richard’s Duchess played the perfect host and Lady Cecily made certain to sit close and listen as much as she might charm the young Lord. When his drink was finished, she was quick to wave a hand, “Would our distinguished guest care for another?”
“You are ever the most gracious, my Lady,” Charles smiled and held his empty cup to be refilled.
Cecily smiled, “You have made such progress. We would be certain that all of your comforts are given.”
“And it is quite the travel,” Richard sat opposite of them barely touching his drink, “Do you be sure that your time to sea was uneventful? In this moment?”
Charles allowed a grin, “I may assure you, my Lord Duke, we of Burgundy hold the channel at the now. The King of France finds his power wanting. As you and yours may desire.”
“That is difficult to say,” Richard answered, “In my knowledge, the sovereign of this realm is plenty able to give your King all that he desires.”
“I shall remind, cousin...” Charles smiled, “...he be not our King. We do not respect that as much as he might wish.”
Richard offered a quick nod, “If only the Lady of Anjou agreed.”
“Quite,” Charles agreed, “The Lord Rene holds tightly to his history. We might also, but at the least...we have the land and the coin that he does not. Yet she does remain your Queen...does she not?”
“Let us not speak of silly women,” Cecily brushed at the Count’s arm, “Rather, we should invite you to stay for some time. You have made a perilous journey despite your safe passage, and we should be quite charmed to hold you here for a most pleasant visit.”
The Duke of York sat forward, “My illustrious Lady wife would have you stay for many a moon, my Lord. She is most keen to impress you.”
“And she does so easily, my Lord,” Charles replied with a smile to the Duchess.
The Duchess Cecily held slightly tighter to his arm, “One does need a moment to forget all of the poor things that come to them, do you not think? A happy and healthy retreat from the poor arrows of misfortune.”
“It has been some few years...” Charles bowed his head, “...yet I should not wish to seem ungrateful for your most excellent hospitality.”
“You are always welcome here, my Lord,” Cecily smiled.
Richard grinned, “Especially as you do bring to us most needed news.”
The Count turned to the Duke with a more serious eye, “My father has gone to great pains to effect this outcome upon the King of France. We have lost much...”
“And gained much,” Richard countered.
Charles smiled, “Would that we might have met some months ago, my Lord. You may have held chance to join us on this excursion.”
“Many victories, I understand,” Cecily complimented.
The Duke was quick to follow, “And none that do our worth fairly well.”
“It is none that we might cause, my Lord,” Charles was just as quick to reply, “It is too poor that your King has decided not to answer the gauntlet thrown down by this French monarch.”
Cecily pursed her lips, “Invasion to Bordeaux! And in such a time! I think it only your fine efforts that keep that land from being lost.”
“Do not forget the men of that region...they do stand fast,” the Count added.
“Unlike some others,” Richard nearly spit.
Charles leaned forward, “It is not lost, my Lord. The north of France into Normandy is seeing a most welcomed liberation. Your people of Aquitaine will not succumb.”
“It is impressive,” Richard agreed, “The counties around Valois and Reims? The very flower of Charles...so called the seventh. I prefer to remember him as a son without inheritance.”
“He was called dauphin,” Charles grinned.
Richard answered quickly, “So was our King here to England at one time, sir.”
“If I might...” the Count attempted to question with care, “...what holds your Lord from his efforts? The moment is now. To be certain. Mantua has called against the French. Castile and Portugal. How many more before the English King declares for victory?”
“Would that we knew,” Cecily smiled and stood with graciousness, “And I am aware that refreshment is just the order at the now. Shall I allow a few moments with my Lord husband before you join us to the hall?”
Charles bent his neck in honor, “I should not miss it, my Lady. Your efforts are nonpareil.”
As she allowed her own nod and removed herself from the solar, Richard leaned in with determination upon his face, “Burgundy rises, my Lord of Charolais. How far do you see your Lord father going? Philip has done his part, no doubt. Lives up to his name as good. Yet without true backing by this kingdom, what will he have gained?”
“It is with regret…” Charles replied with his best diplomacy, “...that I do not meet with those that serve His Grace, King Henry. Yet I am told that they serve quite poorly and our place and yours have such a long history together. The finest friends...and we do hold a familial connection.”
Richard did not smile, “As you do with our sovereign Lord, sir.”
“Yet he is so slow to act,” the Count replied with certainty, “A fine force that has presented many times over these last hundred years, and yet...all the risk is taken by others.”
“Yours especially,” Richard gave nod, “And I would have him move. Yet there are those to court...I need not name them...that are willing to watch instead of taking action.”
The Burgundian Count smiled, “Peace does bring prosperity, they say. I have not found that to be true.”
The English Duke smiled in return, “You hold not that luxury.”
“We do not,” Charles replied, “And the time to take down that beast is now, my Lord. He is beaten and bested and looking for any excuse to end his existence. We in Burgundy would be happy to cause that result. Yet we must ask...do you?”
“I wish that I could say,” Richard answered him with seriousness, “Yet I am out. My influence is undesired and so I have removed myself from court. Should you desire the knowledge of this King, it is to Somerset that you should speak.”
“He is...” Charles searched for the words, “...less than. A poor substitute for what I find here.”
Richard sat back and gave nod, “I am pleased to hear you say so. Does this represent your Lord father the Duke?”
“My father...” Charles answered with discretion, “...would be pleased with any that answered to his cause. Be that England...Mantua...Iberia...he would always be grateful.”
“I cannot give you full answer,” Richard followed, “I hold not that position at the now.”
Charles took a slim drink before placing his cup aside, “That is...too poor, my Lord. I had hoped to come here and find a fine connection. For Burgundy...for my father. For myself. Yet if you are unable to assist...”
“I did not say that,” the Duke replied with certainty, “And our time here to England is...fluid.”
The Count sat forward with interest as Richard continued, “You are now sadly without a wife.”
“Your Lady has been most gracious in her care,” Charles responded with a sad face, “It has been nearly five years.”
“And without issue,” the Duke followed.
Charles sat tall with a pained face, “I need not be reminded. The flower of Burgundy remains at stake.”
“We might make a pact here this day, my Lord,” Richard suggested, “I hold a daughter of age...soon enough...that would make you a fine bride.”
“She is...young, my Lord,” Charles replied with kindness but skepticism.
Richard showed a grin, “And so many years of fine children. A chance to bind this house with your own.”
The Count of Charolais held a circumspect eye, “While you do indeed find healthy and promising issue...most especially your gifted sons...I believe you to speak of your daughter Margaret, my Lord? She is naught but five years in age. I, of course, understand a marriage proposal and what that entails...but I should have some years to wait.”
“Then you would understand that is a connection,” Richard followed quickly, “And one that might cleave us closely. You will, God willing, find your place within Burgundy. And our connection might serve you well at such time.”
“Again, my Lord...” Charles countered, “...you look to years counted down and I look to the now. My country is at war and yours...plays at it at best. Besides...I truly hold no other choice. I am to be once more matched to a high woman of France. I must by former agreement. My Lord father would accept no less. It is his choice and not mine.”
Richard skewed an eye, “You would hold to that? Especially if you should win your efforts to France?”
“I may do no other until it is won,” Charles answered, “Yet...facts may change. Only time will tell. I hold little choice at the now...and it seems that you do not either.”
“We may be able to provide,” Richard answered with some certainty.
Charles smiled in return, “And so we may be able to reply in turn. No thing would make me more pleased, my Lord.”
“Then we should drink a toast of agreement,” Richard stood and gestured, “Let us to the great hall and find what my Lady wife has prepared for us. She would be disappointed to miss this moment in which we look forward to a brighter future and our mutual place within it.”
The Count of Charolais stood as well and offered a perfect bow before moving from the solar. As they walked, another figure appeared and the Duke beckoned him over, “We may present an additional enjoyment for you, my Lord, as I spy my good nephew.”
As the dashing Earl stepped forward and offered bow, Charles returned the compliment and Richard introduced them, “My Lord of Charolais, allow me to present Richard, the Earl of Warwick. He is son to my Lady wife’s beloved brother the Lord of Salisbury.”
“I do believe that your reputation already precedes you, my Lord,” Charles continued to charm, “Not only your martial spirit proved to the Irish I am told, but your...good fortune...is well known to the continent.”
Warwick grinned at the well placed diplomacy, “Would that I may purchase the peace that we all desire, but even my coffers are not filled with that much...good fortune.”
The three laughed as Duchess Cecily came from the hall and hurried them to the feast. As she returned to the role of perfect host, Warwick stayed back for a moment with the Duke, “Will he play?”
“I do not see how he could not,” Richard answered as he watched after his wife.
“If His Grace chooses not to act...” Warwick narrowed his brow, “...it will not matter how many petty princes choose to bait the bear. France will eventually strengthen again and then Aquitaine is lost without our armies to protect her.”
Richard frowned, “I am too much aware.”
“And we know well that Somerset will counsel no such thing. A pox on this King if he listens to such weak speech.”
The Duke turned with a wry smile, “My cousin ruling against you surely seems to have changed your countenance towards him.”
“How could it not?” Warwick felt his anger rising, “He takes coin from my purse and provides it to that preening prick!”
“And your father?” the Duke raised a curious brow in question.
Warwick replied easily, “He did not care for the slight. Nor has he found his invitation to Council despite his show of loyalty.”
“Then let us prepare for the future, sir...” Richard took the Earl’s arm to lead him into the great hall, “...where all things are possible.”
“I was told that you would be here again and I could not believe it,” Lord Cobham opened the chamber door and glared with harsh eyes.
While the portly man meant Lord Bonville, the Duke of Buckingham tried to continue with playing at peace, “I might understand your ire, sir, yet you may wish to thank me.”
“And why should he wish to do that?” the voice came from behind as Richard of York stood from the long table and looked over Lord Cobham’s shoulder.
Buckingham locked piercing eyes with reply, “As you have no doubt received the latest word from the King, I come to give you an out. My Lord...the intent of that word spells it out clearly for you and you come dangerously close to perfection of that definition.”
Lord Cobham opened the door wider and allowed the men entry as Richard sat back to the table and looked up with curiosity, “If I did not know that, sirs, I would not have allowed this peace conference. For that is what it is...is it not?”
The Duke stepped forward followed by Baron Bonville and the Bishop of Winchester. He calmly moved to the opposing chair and sat without saying a word. Bonville and the Bishop followed suit and still neither spoke. Richard remained silent as well as he gestured for Cobham to sit and then pulled out the other chair next to him. He sat back and sighed as the others drummed their thumbs to the table until at length the sound of feet could be heard stomping down the corridor and finally the last man had arrived.
When the chamber door slammed, Buckingham took his chance to answer, “To your statement, my Lord...if that is what you wish to call it then I shall not complain.”
The Earl of Devon moved to take his seat and wanted to spit as he spied Bonville, “Why are they here, my Lord?!”
“I have seen generous enough to grant this audience for they seem to have some type of peace proposal,” Richard held a hand to the Earl, “While I be not at war, it would seem that the crown believes it so.”
The Bishop of Winchester spoke out, “My Lord! You have gathered near to twenty thousand men and lead them on a train to some place. Where could it be and why?!”
“Somerset believes it, I am certain,” the Earl of Devon replied.
Buckingham slammed a hand to the table, “Yes he does! And he has convinced the King! If you cannot stop this nonsense, I cannot save you!”
“You speak of nonsense?” Richard calmly leaned forward to pour a goblet of wine, “I see no other nonsense but that which goes on to Council. You would let this man dictate in every terms what happens and where the coin goes and run roughshod over His Grace...and yourselves for that matter.”
Lord Bonville finally spoke, “As if you would not do the very same were you in such position?”
“I shall never be in such position,” Richard placed down the pitcher and slowly pulled the cup to him, “At this chance, I think not to want it. Yet how may you allow a man such as Somerset to rule over you as he does? He can do no wrong it would seem. And he has the ear of the Queen and who knows what else? My Lords...I am one of you. I am one of the people. Why else do you think to see them rise as they do in my favor? We all...they and you...see it. Henry is my cousin and I do love him. I wish nothing more than his betterment. And it WILL NOT happen whilst Somerset finds his power.”
Each man in the chamber had found grievance with the Duke of Somerset and understood Richard’s words implicitly. Yet still, Buckingham attempted to broker, “Your words are compelling, my Lord. I too share in this distrust. Though I think this more than just good governance.”
“How may it not be?” Richard sat back with interest.
“I spy these two...mayhap three men...to our sides,” Buckingham replied as he held out his hands, “I shall say it plainly. They hate each other. Devon...Bonville...Cobham...they need no other reason to fight. Here they sit...in your sight. What would you say to them?”
“My Lord...” the older Baron began to protest before Buckingham cut him off.
He stood and moved behind his chair to hold firmly to the back, “You’ve a chance to direct your peace, my Lord. Shall they listen to you like all of these people? What would you tell them to make their truce?”
“I would not tell,” Richard replied immediately, “I would ask. I do not find my affinity for being abusive, sir. I hold well to a household account and ask my Lady wife to do the same. Why should I not ask that of others? That I am smart with my coin allows me to be generous to those that serve me which are many. What reason would I have to assume another might do differently? Yet if I am asked for a cost, I will do so willingly and hope for respect and honor. I would hope that care is taken, as it should be, when one has done a service. That too I would ask of another man.”
Buckingham listened quietly as Richard also stood to hold to the back of his chair and continued, “I would ask that of these men. I would hear their words and then I would give judgment.”
“Yet you are not King,” Buckingham answered.
Richard allowed a brief smile, “I’ve no wish to be.”
The Bishop held up worried hands, “My Lord...he means the fighting! This one to that one...and all the same...it is to personal grudge and sins against God!”
“There...” Buckingham pointed to the Bishop, “...you see? If the people see it and the clergy see it...then it is clear. Grudge is the reason and not glory. I may understand that, my Lord. I’ve my own. Yet these petty squabbles do rise and give fine tinder to this fire. If you have choice to smolder those flames...however slight and small...it would go a long way to proving your loyalty.”
Richard shifted to sit once more and looked to his men Devon and Cobham. Then he looked to Bonville and laughed, “I cannot stop these men from fighting. It is their right. As I stated, I am merely one of you. And I honor your presence, my Lord. Yet I still hear of no peace proposed.”
“Then I suppose I can give you no peace,” Buckingham sighed, “I had hoped it. I begged His Grace and he allowed it. It shows that he does still care, my Lord. He would listen. I pray of you, Richard...do this no longer!”
“Where is the King at the now?” the Duke of York asked with a sympathetic tone.
Buckingham answered simply, “He moves to London.”
“With a large contingent?” Richard questioned, “Assuming all of the Lords that do follow him.”
“They are there.”
Richard of York raised a brow, “How many, do you suspect?”
“My Lord...” Buckingham did not smile, “...I would not give you thought to our position. You may know that His Grace rides for London with his army and will be well set to provide against you should you approach. You should do well to stay to the south. In truth, my Lord, I ask of you again...do not cross the Thames.”
Richard calmly sighed and then gave nod, “I have heard your words, my Lords. And I thank you for them. I hope then that you have heard mine. See what comes from listening?”
As it was clear that the meet was over, the Bishop and Lord Bonville stood to leave but Buckingham kept his eye to Richard, “A dangerous...and deadly...game, Richard. I wish you to think long and hard about what you are doing. It will not end well for many parties and I hope to God one of them is not you.”
The Duke of York stood to usher them out as he offered another brief smile to his peer, “You understand so little, my Lord of Buckingham. And yet you are so wise. Thank you.”
The Earl of Devon shut the chamber door behind them and de Courtenay looked to Richard with question, “He would place my feud as reason for your worth, my Lord? Is that what you think?”
“Our feud and it sounds very much like it,” Cobham followed.
Richard looked to the full goblet of wine and answered firmly, “Tis not my worth. It is that of the King. What you have received is a not so thinly veiled threat, sirs. Should you wish to follow this movement, you will be judged harshly as the King says.”
“There be no other way to force it, my Lord,” Cobham suggested.
“No,” Richard gave over a deep sigh, “No...there is not. They see it and do nothing about it. And what is your squabbling but lack of control by the King? Somerset and that...Bonville...many of his ilk...they are given favor and more than fair judgment. And so they rule in my cousin’s stead.”
The Earl of Devon stepped to Richard, “The Duke of Buckingham, my Lord...I think him not so like they.”
“You are right,” York turned quickly with a nod, “And it is to him that we must maintain a confidence.”
“And yet what are we to do at the now, my Lord?” Devon quickly questioned.
Richard clapped a hand to his shoulder, “We are to cross Kingston Bridge on the morrow and head towards Dartford, sir. There we shall link up with the Kents and come to London from the south.”
Lord Cobham showed a rare worry, “Do you think that the King will honestly stand in our way?”
“He has seen a light,” Richard moved to a window and looked to the horizon, “Yet not THE light. I cannot say and I do not care. We march tomorrow.”
“My Lord...” Devon questioned, “...what of Warwick? He was to reinforce us here and we have waited for three days.”
Richard finally turned and found his full goblet. He drank it down and then looked to the others as he placed it to the table, “Our Lord of Warwick shall have to catch up. We move sharply. See it done.”
Duchess Cecily clapped her hands several times and shouted to the stablemen, porters and squires running about, “You will see these touches finished and in short order! All will be perfect or I shall have your hides!”
Few stopped to give nod or acknowledgment for they knew she was serious. They swiftly moved to complete their work as the Duchess looked up to atop the gate, “Edward! Edmund! Get down here!!”
The eldest son shouted down to her, “Mama...the King and his retinue are soon! I see the train at the now!”
“I know it well, you incorrigible boy!” she snapped back, “There is time enough to see the man when he arrives to here! Go and fetch your father and at an instant!”
Edward showed hesitation until she fixed him a harsh glare and then he sped off as Edmund climbed down to stand by her side, “It does not seem a very large party, mama.”
“It is the annual progress,” Cecily answered him as she watched her workers do their job, “His Grace would carry with him as many or as few as he may like. Court comes to Ludlow at the now and mayhap His Grace wishes a more intimate stay.”
“I think the Queen to be with him,” Edmund suggested, “A lady rides close to his side.”
Cecily narrowed her eyes but answered, “It is court and the Queen is of the court, my son. She would go on progress with him.”
As she finished, Richard of York emerged from the keep with his daughters and eldest son, “How far, madam?”
“He is soon to the gates, father,” Edward replied before his mother could have chance, “The King was already to the village when I found you.”
Cecily looked to Richard with certainty, “The Queen rides with him, husband. I know not what others we shall be pleased to house for the moment. I have provided plenty of lodgings no matter.”
“Lillibet,” Richard turned to Elizabeth, “Seek out the nurse and find your little brothers. They shall be present when the King arrives.”
While she rushed off, Cecily inspected her other children, “Edward...straighten that tunic. It is mussed from your adventures. And Meg….fix your hair. I think not that the lady prepared it well.”
A scout ran up to them, “My Lord...my Lady...the King arrives to the outer bailey and has been given entrance as requested.”
As he ran off again, Cecily turned to the musicians “Strike it off, sirs. Much pomp!”
Guards lifted the bar to the gate and the doors swung wide as King Henry and Queen Margaret trotted forth on their mounts. Their traveling party followed over the bridge with many carts laden with wares and necessities. Richard could see that Cardinal Kempe kept close to the front and eyed behind him to see if he spied Somerset. Not seeing him, he was not surprised to see the Duke of Buckingham show after. As the rest of the party entered the inner bailey, many clerks and stewards surrounded the King’s guards but there appeared to be few other nobility.
“Our Lord of York!” King Henry called out from atop his fine caparisoned courser, “You provide the perfect greeting as we would certainly expect.”
As all members of York’s family and castle host bowed, Richard stood with an authoritative presence, “How may I do else, Your Grace? It is an honor to find you to our lands.”
“Ah, cousin...” Henry answered as he was helped from his mount, “...it is our honor to be given such fine place to stay. We promise that we will not deplete your holds too poorly or give to you too much cost.”
“Coin would not be spared, Your Grace,” Richard replied as he finally gave bow to the King, “It is too rare that we might find you to here.”
“We agree,” Henry gave nod as he turned to hold out his hand, “Our Lady wife the Queen has never seen this fine place and it is long past time.”
Richard looked over the King’s shoulder as Margaret of Anjou approached and coldly took Henry’s hand. She did not speak but offered a slight nod of her head. He returned her icy glare but still managed a bow, “You are most welcome, my Lady. We hope that you find your place to here comfortable.”
When she did not speak again, Henry dropped her hand with little care and then looked to Richard’s family, “So these are the young ones, eh?”
The Duke of York showed pride, “They are, Your Grace. You of course know of my Lady wife the Duchess.”
“Ahh...the Rose of Raby!” Henry announced to all, “Your reputation gives justice to our eyes every time, my Lady. And look at all that you have done!”
Cecily offered another slight bow, “My everlasting appreciation, Your Grace. You do honor them with your presence.”
The King looked to the children with some bemusement. Edmund, though younger, was slightly taller than Edward and so Henry fixed his gaze to him, “This must be the stallion here.”
“Em...no, Your Grace...” Richard placed forth Ned, “...this is my eldest son Edward, styled Earl of March.”
Both Cardinal Kempe and the Duke of Buckingham offered each other an eye while Henry looked the boy over, “Already strong muscles. The two of you. Do you be twins?”
“They are a year apart, Your Grace,” Cecily answered.
Richard followed, “My Edward nears to his eleventh year, sire. Edmund nears to his tenth. You may recall...it was not terribly long ago that you bestowed him title as Earl of Rutland?”
“Ah yes...of course,” Henry shook his head in some confusion, “Rutland...of course.”
The Lord Chancellor stood behind the King, “You may also recall that you allowed this Earl named as Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, Your Grace.”
“Did I?” Henry was now more confused, “Yet he...is not yet ten?”
Richard shot Kempe a glare, “My chancellor Oldhall does the work, Your Grace. It is the honor that counts, is it not?”
“Your Grace...” Cecily gestured to the rest of her children, “...may I present to you Elizabeth and Margaret, my Lord’s fine daughters. And here is George just now three.”
Henry looked them over, “All very pretty indeed.”
“And my youngest, sire,” Richard gestured to the baby, “We spoke of him.”
“Yes...yes we did,” Henry perused the child with some interest. He looked to the face and ears. He seemed curious about the rest but the child was swaddled. Sound asleep, the baby began to wail when Henry bent down to kiss at the forehead.
“He is needing of his nap, Your Grace,” Cecily attempted to assist the King, “This young Richard has a voice when he is in distemper.”
“Indeed, sire...” York showed some brief levity, “...it is said like father, like son.”
Cecily allowed an amused smile, “One roars more than the other, Your Grace. Yet surely you are tired after your travel. Allow our men to unpack and I invite you to appreciate your surroundings.”
“Yes...” Henry looked to her with a return smile, “...that is most kind. We think the Lady Queen must surely also find a rest. Do you not think, Margaret?”
She finally spoke in short clipped words, “Yes. Good.”
As the Duchess ushered them all into the keep, Richard watched after the King and Queen for a time. He was soon joined by Buckingham, “It has been a long progress.”
Richard did not take his eyes off the royal couple, “I assumed that Somerset would be to here as well.”
“I am certain that it gave you no solace that the Cardinal allowed him his freedom the moment that you were gone, my Lord,” Buckingham replied as he too watched the royal party.
York showed a side eye, “That too, I assumed. Yet she remains distant.”
“She has not forgiven, sir,” Buckingham answered.
Richard exhaled with force, “She would hold us both as culprit for Somerset’s embarrassment when it is all of his own doing? She need not love me...I care not. Yet she still holds the King as responsible?”
“She...” Buckingham tried to form the right words, “...remains away.”
“And what of Somerset?” Richard turned to his peer, “What of him?”
The Duke of Buckingham returned the look, “He is restored. Serves to the palace at the now while the King remains in absence.”
“You are such fools,” Richard suggested with contempt, “When will you learn?”
“You’ve a lovely head to your shoulders, my Lord,” Buckingham answered, “I suggest that you enjoy it. You did get what you desired, did you not?”
Richard allowed a scornful laugh, “Hardly!”
“You wished to be counsel, did you not? Well...His Grace does wish it. That is why we are here, sir,” Buckingham replied.
“I wish to be on Council...sir,” Richard offered a stern look, “Not merely a counsel when sought. I am away here to the marches of Wales and hardly matter when this prat of Somerset finds his own again.”
Buckingham stood closer and responded with a near whisper, “And I told you that it was not worth it, Richard. It would ever be thus as long as Henry holds his Queen. He is stronger...yes. Yet he would still find his fear. Her supporters are legion and she cultivates it even if not near to the King at the now. And now? She works to the people. Giving alms and finding popularity when she is able.”
“Do these people not see King Henry as their savior?” Richard questioned, “He that restored the peace and is to bring us together as strong?”
“His decided ‘era of good feeling’, my Lord...was to you,” Buckingham narrowed his eyes, “To many others, he remains...aloof...to his own. And she is very pretty.”
Richard looked back to the doors of the keep, “I shall try to hold my tongue.”
“That is very good advice, sir,” Buckingham replied as he moved to enter, “I be certain that your esteemed Lady wife the Duchess has prepared a bounteous feast for us all and then...after...you shall have your word with the King. Use it for all that you might, my Lord.”
A long train of carts and horse trailed along the road as the small party broke off and moved slowly towards the manor house. In front stood Richard Neville, the Earl of Salisbury and his wife Lady Alice. The Earl was showing a smile as the party grew closer and the leader was quick from his mount when he arrived. Neville’s smile was not matched.
Richard of York clasped arms with the Earl of Salisbury in greeting, “Good sir…while I thank you for the hospitality, I think not to like the reason.”
“Ever the dour one, brother,” Salisbury answered with mirth, “There be time enough to speak on it yet first let me greet our guests. Sister!”
Duchess Cecily strode forth with her eldest son and hugged her brother, “I have been missing of you, Dickon. As always.”
“I could not tell from your strongly worded missives, Cis,” he replied in humor, “And who is this young buck?”
Edward held out a hand, “Well met, uncle. Tis good to see you.”
“The proper gentleman,” the Earl looked back to Richard before turning back to the boy and met the hand with his own, “Your first foray into the wild and wicked London my young Lord of March. Be certain to take a care for it can be overwhelming.”
“Of course, sir,” Edward replied with a grin.
Cecily placed a hand to her son’s shoulder, “It is indeed time for him to take his place among the magnates no matter his age. He would hold himself with all propriety, I am sure.”
“Yes he would,” Richard of York held out his arm toward the manor house, “Now...if we may?”
“Husband...” Cecily reprimanded, “...be not so curt.”
“Indeed, brother...I have not seen them in some time,” the Earl followed, “And where be your others, sister?”
She smiled to him, “Edmund remains to Ludlow to see after the young ones. He too should begin to take on his duties.”
“Tis a pity,” Salisbury offered a nod, “Yet right you are.”
“Pleasantries aside, sir...there be more important issues to discuss,” York remained impatient.
The Earl of Salisbury turned and gestured for all to follow as Lady Alice and Duchess Cecily met and greeted one another. Salisbury moved close to Richard and answered with agreement, “You will be pleased. Others are to follow. My son should be here this day and I have a surprise for you.”
“Very good,” York replied and looked back to his son, “Edward! With me!”
The young Earl of March was distracted by the activity of the carts and retinue moving past but quickly caught up, “Yes, father.”
“Let us go to the library,” the Earl suggested, “My Lady Alice will want to show Cis the house and so we hold some time before the meal.”
Richard attempted a more pleasant demeanor, “A fine manor, sir. You’ve done well to refurbish it.”
“It is a most excellent respite,” Salisbury replied as they walked, “With the Priory close by, it feels most holy.”
“Holy or not, I needs must know what happens to here,” York dropped his slight smile, “I receive notice to attend this great council and yet your words have been most cryptic. Is it true that the Queen has given forth the promise of issue?”
“We shall get to it, sir...yet where do you stay when to London?” the Earl asked.
Richard answered with some question, “The Archbishop was kind enough to offer Baynard. His words too were little and less. I was most surprised that first words came from Somerset. What happens?”
As they entered the library, Salisbury smiled to young Edward as he slowly closed the door. When he turned back to them, his smile receded, “This young Earl here will hear words that he may not understand. Yet I agree...it is time that he does. Please...sit. You will need to.”
“Ned is old enough to understand,” Richard took his seat and gestured for Edward to do the same, “He needs must know as much as I. So...pray tell, brother...what indeed is so pressing?”
The Earl of Salisbury moved to pour each of them some wine. As he turned back he looked to Richard as he offered a cup to Edward, “Old enough, sir?”
“Be careful,” Richard looked to his son but gave nod. He then looked back to the Earl, “So please do speak, my Lord. I tire of this banter.”
Salisbury retreated to his own chair and then looked to York with great seriousness, “Yes...it is true. The Queen has given issue. A child named Edward and called Duke of Cornwall. He has already been baptised and sponsored in such by Somerset...”
“What?!” York was apoplectic, “Where was Henry??”
The Earl dipped his head for a moment before looking back, “He was...is...not able.”
“Not able?” Richard questioned with great confusion, “What does that mean?!”
“It means...” Salisbury hesitated, “...we do not know. The King is unwell and housed to the now at Windsor. It has been thus for some time as it comes to my knowing only recently. I did not wish to hold my words to courier so I waited to tell you in person. Too many might take such information and use it for ill gains. Yet it is we...we that must be smart, Richard. We that must be careful.”
Richard of York was entirely shocked and confused, “What is wrong with him and when did this happen?”
“It is unknown,” Salisbury replied, “It is said that he took ill in the autumn. It has been difficult to suss out the truth of it from the others to Council. Buckingham...Kempe? They have all been tight lipped. As has been Somerset. In truth, it comes to my hearing that at first you were not to be invited to this great council yet he did relent in the end and thus sent you message.”
A knock to the door interrupted them and Salisbury rose to answer. He did not smile as he opened it and invited his son the Earl of Warwick into the room, “My Lord...my son.”
“All apologies, sirs,” Warwick entered and gave nod to young Edward, “It was a hard ride from Yorkshire. The Percies continue to kick up dust and my brothers were in need.”
“The Percies may wait,” Salisbury gestured him to a chair and sat once more, “We are in a dire time for the kingdom and I was just informing our Lord of York of these latest developments.”
Warwick poured a cup of wine and then sat with alacrity, “It is true, uncle. From what father tells me, we are at great crises. We are unruled...and unruly if the Percy clan be a guide. More to that...the peace with France...”
“Peace with France?!” Richard stood with strength and stood over them, “What in the blazes of hell is going on to here, sirs?!”
“Father...” young Edward attempted to calm him.
“Silence, boy!” Richard shouted before looking to the Earls with great question, “I have been gone from Westminster for barely a year and already things break down into chaos? Is this Somerset or some other?!”
Salisbury looked to him with a worried eye, “It is some other, my Lord. Something that cannot be explained. The King has taken ill and may not govern. I fear that some few have tried to in his name...and held us all to ignorance.”
“What is wrong with him?!” Richard pressed with irritation, “I ask again...what keeps him unwell?!”
Warwick stood to answer him, “It is unknown, sir. And to tease from those that may know is like trying to pull milk from a bull.”
“And now with the birth of this son...this heir...” Salisbury followed from his seat, “...it is said that the King must recognize him and yet he cannot.”
Richard remained with shock, “Has it been tried?”
“It has,” Salisbury replied with sadness.
“And?!” Richard questioned quickly.
The elder Earl shook his head, “There was...no reply.”
The Duke of York emptied his cup of wine and moved to pour another. As he thought he asked over his shoulder, “Where be the Queen at the now?”
“She remains to confinement,” Salisbury answered, “She is to be churched and purified soon. At the now, we are governed by the Lord Chancellor...”
“And Somerset, to be sure!” Richard turned to them with anger.
Warwick followed, “Indeed...and Buckingham, one assumes. Their minions.”
Richard of York was quite out of sorts and moved to the window in thought. He tried to calm himself and looked to his son for a time before turning to the others, “There is so much wrong here, sirs. I simply cannot believe we have reached this place. An incapacitated King? A Queen certain to rule on her own once she is back to us? And this peace? Explain to me again this peace?!”
“A goodly amount of coin is promised,” Warwick suggested, “But...the gains of Talbot will not be recognized.”
“By God!!” Richard exclaimed, “This has the hands of the Queen all over it! She would always rule for her own!”
Salisbury included, “Yet they remain to war with Mantua. France remains on fire even if given respite.”
“Which we never should have given them!” Richard demanded, “Where be the Lord of Shrewsbury?”
“Lord Talbot is to return to Calais,” Warwick informed.
Richard showed wide eyes, “He should return to here, sirs! We are in need of him!”
“Calm yourself, brother,” Salisbury stood and moved to him, “There be time enough for we hold this summit...this council. All of the great magnates and lessor ones will be there. Both temporal and spiritual. Here is your moment...should you wish it.”
“Have I a choice?!” Richard answered with certainty.
Warwick stood to him and gave nod, “You do not, uncle.”
“And it is time for you to play the finest diplomat,” Salisbury followed him, “Forgive the surely intended slight from Somerset and instead focus on those Lords able to assist. You will find a following the more that is known. To a man, there are many that dislike this circumstance and only you may pull them together.”
“If you are able,” Warwick suggested, “If you may hold calm and take your certainly deserved place.”
Richard looked to them with a wide eye, “This is insanity, my Lords!”
“It is...indeed,” Salisbury gestured towards the door, “And my surprise is to help you understand. And mayhap bring to you a homecoming.”
The Duke of York watched as the Earl of Salisbury opened the door and invited his guests into the library. Cecily entered first with their eldest child and Anne smiled as she saw her father for the first time in years, “Papa!!”
“My sweet Anne,” Richard held her to a large hug for a long time and then looked over her shoulder, “And yet...who is this?”
“Papa...” Anne looked up to him with a plea to her eyes, “...tis my husband.”
Cecily fixed him a gaze and cautioned, “Be kind, sir.”
“He need not be kind, my Lady,” the Duke of Exeter replied as he moved forth and placed his arm over his wife’s shoulder, “For I think him to be in need of me...once again. Well met, my Lord.”
“Ned!!” Anne exclaimed as she moved to hug her brother and Richard watched his children with some pride.
Edward smiled as he returned her embrace, “You are much taller!”
“My dear...” Cecily suggested to Lady Alice, “...let us take these two and allow this group their consternation. It shall be more pleasant for us, I be sure.”
The Countess of Salisbury agreed and as they removed themselves, Exeter turned back to Richard, “We shall have a fine time this night...father. All happy families...for the now.”
“You will tell me all that you know!” Richard offered no comfort to his son in law.
Henry Holland smiled, “I will indeed, sir. For you shall need it. As I be certain that these fine Lords have suggested...it is time for you to gather support. I was there that night, sir...or that morning. And I may tell you...we are in great need of your talents.”
