Authors: Bertrice Small
A lad resulting from such a liaison would be recognized only by the earl as his son and heir. But the king would recognize a daughter, though Radcliffe would give her his name, and make her his heiress if no other children came. Which, of course, they did not.”
Prior Peter shook his head. “Cousin Edward’s behavior has always amazed me. He is like a stag, forever in rut. How the queen bears it I do not know.”
“Elizabeth Woodville stomachs it because she is queen, and as long as she keeps producing children for him and makes no complaint, she will remain queen.
The woman’s ambition for herself and her family is hor-rific. Of them all only her oldest brother, Lord Rivers, can be called a gentleman.”
“You have never liked her, Dickon, have you?” the prior remarked.
“No,” the duke admitted. “I have not. Warwick had negotiated a good marriage for Edward with the French princess, Bona of Savoy, King Louis’s sister-in-law. We needed that alliance, and it would have brought honor to the house of York. But Edward let Elizabeth Woodville lead him about by his cock, and into a secret alliance. My brother had also managed to promise marriage to Lady Eleanor Butler before he seduced Elizabeth and married her. What was different about Elizabeth Woodville I will never understand. And then we lost Warwick’s friendship over it. Another disaster because of that damned woman.”
“I hear that Henry of Lancaster and his son, Prince Edward, are both dead now,” the prior remarked.
“And Warwick too, the bastard,” the duke said. “I was to marry his daughter, Anne, but after the breach with my brother Warwick gave her to Prince Edward of Lancaster. She’s widowed now, and we will marry when her mourning is over for her father and her husband. We have loved each other since we were children.”
“I am told your brother, George, who is wed to Warwick’s elder daughter, Isabel, opposes your match with the Lady Anne,” the prior murmured.
“Do not take sides, Peter,” the duke warned his Neville cousin. “Though George is reunited with Edward and has begged his pardon for his treason, I have ever been loyal to Edward, as all know. I will have my
way in this. George is greedy. He wants all of Warwick’s inheritance, not just half. He doesn’t care whom I wed.
He just doesn’t want me to get any of Warwick’s lands or wealth. And believe me, he will betray Edward again should the opportunity arise and he thinks it of benefit to himself. It is his nature.”
The cleric drank down his wine and rose to his feet.
“It is the dinner hour, Dickon, and I am hungry. Aren’t you?”
Richard of Gloucester stood up with a small smile.
“Aye, I am hungry,” he agreed. “And you always set a fine table, Cousin Peter, despite your vow of poverty.”
Prior Peter chuckled as he led his guest into the refec-tory of the monastery. They took their places at the high board, and after having blessed the food to come, the cleric motioned his guest and his monks to sit down. Immediately the silver goblets at their places were filled with fragrant wine. The duke doubted the monks shared in the exclusive bounty accorded the prior’s high board, where he sat with his cousin and half a dozen of his right-hand monks.
The servers began to offer the dishes to the high board first. There was broiled salmon, mussels with a sauce of Dijon mustard, and creamed cod to begin with, followed by duck, ham, and beef. The high board was offered artichokes steamed in white wine. The bread was still warm from the ovens of the bake house. There were several cheeses, and finally apples baked with cinnamon and honey. Richard of Gloucester noted that the tables below the high board were served creamed cod, a rabbit stew, bread, cheese, and fresh apples. The wooden goblets were filled with beer.
When the meal had concluded the duke arose,
thanked his cousin, and departed for the women’s guesthouse, a small building near the monastery gate.
There he found Elsbeth bathing Adair in a small oak tub by an open hearth. “Have you eaten?” he asked her.
“Was there enough?”
“Yes, my lord. They brought us good hot rabbit stew, bread and cheese, and wine,” she answered him. “I never tasted anything so good.”
“You probably have”—the duke chuckled—“but
after several weeks on the road I know that hot food does taste especially good. I have been on campaign enough to understand that.” He took a drying cloth from the rack before the fire and, wrapping it about Adair, lifted her from the tub. “And you, my poppet, has your hunger been assuaged now?” He dried her little body gently, and took the chemise that Elsbeth handed him to slip over Adair’s childish form.
“Let me do her hair, my lord,” Elsbeth said. She was amazed and touched by the kindness the duke was showing to her mistress. She brushed Adair’s long black hair until it shone with reddish lights. Then she braided it into a single plait. When she had finished she said to Adair, “Now, my precious, tell the duke what had driven us south to seek the king’s protection.”
Richard of Gloucester picked Adair up, and, sitting in the single chair by the fire while Elsbeth went about the business of tidying up, he cradled the child in his lap.
“Are you warm enough now, Adair?” he asked her.
“Aye, my lord,” she whispered. She felt so safe, and she had not felt safe since the night her father and mother had pushed her into the escape tunnel at Stanton Hall.
“Aye, Uncle Dickon,” he corrected her gently. “All my nieces call me Uncle Dickon, and while you may not be a princess, Adair, you are my niece too. Now, tell me what happened at Stanton that you were forced to flee.”
“The Lancastrians came,” Adair began. “In the morning just before sunrise they came, and they burned the village. Then they burned the fields and the barns. They drove off or slaughtered the livestock. Many of our folk were killed. Others fled. My da and mama put me in a tunnel with Elsbeth and Beiste. The horses were already waiting for us. They told us to flee.”
“Who told you that the king sired you?” he asked her, curious.
“Mama, but Da said I was still a Radcliffe, and should be proud,” Adair answered him. “They said the king would protect me. And Mama said that the queen had told her when Mama left her service that Mama would always have her friendship. I was to ask the queen that that friendship be offered to me, for it was my mama’s dying wish.”
The duke nodded, then turned to Elsbeth. “You are certain both the earl and his wife are deceased?”
“Aye, my lord,” the serving woman replied. “I went up to the hall myself the day after, before we departed for London. I saw both of their murdered bodies lying slaughtered in the courtyard of the hall. I had to leave them there, and it has troubled my conscience ever since, my lord. But I had no means of burying them, and no one to aid me in such an endeavor. The earl had ordered me to get my little lady to safety, and that was my first obligation.” Elsbeth wiped the tears that had begun to flow from her eyes.
“You did your duty well,” the duke praised her. “You have naught to regret, mistress. Why, though, I wonder, was Stanton attacked?”
“When word came of King Edward’s victories and the final defeat of the Lancastrians, one of the Percys decided to attack the few Yorkists in the region in an effort to avenge King Henry. And, I expect, to steal their lands. The Radcliffes were more prominent than most, and the earl, while never involving himself in the politics of it all, had also never hidden the fact that he stood with King Edward.”
“Why was Stanton not better defended?” Duke
Richard wanted to know.
“Stanton Hall is not a castle, my lord,” Elsbeth explained. “It was a large stone house alone out on the moor. It had suffered destruction in the past, but was always rebuilt. I once heard my father bemoan the fact
that the Radcliffes could not get permission to fortify our home or build a castle. The house was built upon a hillock. And a moat had been dug around the bottom of the hillock. The Scots who came calling over the border were usually just looking to steal our cattle, our sheep, or a pretty girl.”
“You are not near Berwick then?” the duke asked.
“Lord, no!” Elsbeth exclaimed. “We are closer to Cumbria, on the border with Scotland. The region is very desolate, my lord. Those who attacked us were not near neighbors. But if the Radcliffes were killed then the land was for the taking.”
He nodded and then, looking down at Adair, smiled softly. The child had fallen asleep in his lap. “Poor little mite,” he said, stroking her dark hair. Then he looked to Elsbeth. “Listen well to what I tell you, mistress. My brother will accept his responsibilities with regard to this daughter of his. And the queen will not move against the child for the promise she made to Jane Radcliffe. But do not trust the queen. She is a cold and venal woman whose clever wiles managed to ensnare my lustful brother into wedlock. Even her own children fear her. Her first husband was a Lancastrian knight. Her grown sons from that union are dissolute and greedy, as are most of her relations, save her eldest brother. Did your master give you any coin for the child?”
Elsbeth nodded. “I wear a pouch beneath my skirts, my lord,” she told him. “And there are gold coins sewn into the hem of one of my little lady’s gowns.”
“Keep a few for your mistress, but tomorrow you will give me the bulk of your funds. I will place them with Avram the Jew in Goldsmith’s Lane,” the duke said.
“A Jew? In England? I thought there were none,”
Elsbeth said, surprised.
“There are exceptions to every rule, mistress. London is a city of great mercantile importance, and the Jews are the world’s bankers. Therefore Avram does business in Goldsmith’s Lane even while England’s laws prohibit
Jews from taking up residence here. I will put Adair’s little fortune to him, and the receipt will be with my own household treasurer. You are free to draw upon the monies for the child’s care when you need it, but it cannot be stolen from her by any in the queen’s household.
And should you ever need the aid of Richard, Duke of Gloucester, mistress, you have but to ask.
“I was yet a boy when King Edward took Adair’s mother for his leman. Once when my brother George was bullying me she stepped in to protect me from a beating. As you can see,” he said, “I am not like either of my older brothers, who are sturdy of frame. I am slender and slight.” He smiled. “George was practically a man, but delicate Jane Radcliffe stepped between us and said in her gentle voice, ‘It does not behoove your reputation, my lord of Clarence, to abuse your younger sibling, who has really done you no offense.’ I remember the look on George’s face. It was pure outrage that this beautiful young woman had reprimanded him.
“My brother George is overweening proud, as you will eventually see. But she was Edward’s current mistress, and greatly in his favor. Certainly more so than George. He turned on his heel without a word and left us. Then Lady Jane took a silk handkerchief from her sleeve and wiped the blood from my cheek where George’s ring had cut it when he struck me. ‘You must get that attended to, my lord,’ she told me. And then she left me. And another time, when George took all the candied violets from the dish so there were none left for me, Lady Jane gave me some from her own plate. She was always doing kind things like that, mistress. I think I fell in love with her for a short time, and was even jealous of the king. And then she was gone from the court.”
Elsbeth’s eyes were filled with tears. “She was a very good woman, and a good wife to my lord earl, God assoil both their poor souls.” And Elsbeth crossed herself, as did Richard of Gloucester. “But you are a good man too, my lord. It is not my place to thank you for your
kindness to my little lady, but I do.” Elsbeth caught up the duke’s hand and kissed it.
“Thank you,” he said. “I recognize Adair as my blood kin, and I will always be there for her as I am for my brother Edward’s children. The princesses Elizabeth and Mary will be her playmates. Little Cicely is not even three yet, and little Prince Edward will be a year next month.”
“The queen’s nursery is a busy one then. But Adair will be no trouble, for I will look after her,” Elsbeth said.
“The queen has little to do with her children,” the duke responded. “The royal nursery is the province of Lady Margaret Beaufort, whose son, Henry Tudor, is considered the new heir to Lancaster. She is a strong-minded woman, and ambitious for her son. But she is also fair and devout. Adair will be safe under her guid-ance, and you safe in her service.” He stood up, Adair still sleeping in his arms. “Show me the child’s cot, and I will put her there. I will come to see her before you depart on the morrow. Midmorning will be soon enough for you to reach Westminster the same day. I shall have two of my men escort you.” He followed Elsbeth into another room, Beiste by his side, and, laying Adair down where Elsbeth indicated, drew the coverlet over her as he placed a kiss on her brow. “Sleep well, my lady Countess of Stanton,” he said. And then with a brief nod of his head to Elsbeth he left them.
When he had gone Elsbeth sat down upon the pallet cot next to Adair’s. Reaching out, she patted the wolfhound’s head while reveling in the warmth coming from the wood brazier. God was obviously watching over them, if today was any indication. To have been rescued from their long and miserable travels by the king’s brother was more than simple good fortune. And to have that great lord remember Jane Radcliffe with kindness, and to publicly accept Adair as his own kin, was a miracle. Her little lady was warm and dry and well fed for the first time since they had fled from Stanton.
Elsbeth whispered a prayer of thanks to God and his blessed Mother. She offered her prayers for the souls of the earl and his wife. Then she lay down to sleep, certain that they were finally safe. As long as Adair was safe nothing else mattered.
I
t was the bells sounding for prime that awakened both Elsbeth and Adair. The older woman arose slowly, calling to the child as she did so. “Time to arise, my precious. Today we go to Westminster to meet the queen.