Royal Mistress (43 page)

Tom drew her into the shadows, irked that she had not melted into his embrace at once, but he recognized she deserved an answer. “My time has not been my own. You must have heard that I am confined to sanctuary. I wanted to see you before now, believe me, but the abbey is closely guarded. When I heard that the young king would enter the city today, I knew everyone from Westminster would be here, and I bribed a guard to let me out. I gave him my word I would be back under the cover of dark so he will go unpunished.”

“You will go back?” Jane asked, incredulous. “Why, my lord?”

“Because I promised my mother, the queen.” He pressed her hand to his lips. “I had to see you, my love, my sweet Jane.”

She could not resist him then. He tilted her exquisite face to his and kissed her waiting mouth. Her whole body thrilled to his
touch, and Jane thought she would be consumed by the mutual passion in their kiss. She arched her back instinctively, and he lifted her with ease and pinned her between him and the cold stone wall. With a practiced hand, he pulled up her skirts and skillfully aroused her. Jane gasped as one after another pleasurable wave thrilled her. Gently he lowered her to her feet, and limp, she leaned against him.

“And you, my lord? How might you be satisfied?” Jane managed to ask. “Although I fear I may prove of little use now.”

“By the rood, you are irresistible,” he said, pleased with what he took to be her willingness to reciprocate. “I knew from the first moment I saw you all those years ago—and each successive time we have met since—that we were meant for each other. Do not pretend you did not feel it, too. Ah, Jane, how I have hungered for you.” He pushed her down on the seat and was about to untie his codpiece when the bells for vespers pealed above them, and, startling the two lovers, scores of squawking birds flapped off their lofty perches on St. Paul’s spire. Jane exclaimed at this untimely interruption, stood, and smoothed her skirts. She knew the moment of passion had passed and they should part.

Hearing the curfew bell of St. Mary-le-Bow, Tom took her arm and hurried her down the hill to Thames Street. “I suspect I can find a boatman to take me back to Westminster,” Tom said absently. He had come on a mission and was pondering how best to succeed when Jane came to his rescue with an innocent question.

“Why did you really risk imprisonment to come to me, Tom?” Jane asked. She was not such a fool as to believe he had done it simply to fondle her in the churchyard, and she was right.

“I may have need of you, Jane,” Tom gladly responded. “You have been left alone since Edward’s death, no? Then I would ask that, if the time comes when I can flee sanctuary permanently, I have a safe place to stay. I cannot attempt escape from the abbey
yet; my lady mother has need of me there. I came to find a suitable hiding place nearby so I can help gather our supporters and regain possession of my brother, the king. We believe Richard of Gloucester is planning to take the crown for himself.”

Jane was confused. “But Richard of Gloucester is the legal protector, Tom. He has sworn to uphold his nephew’s right and see him crowned. Why would he break his oath to his brother and to his king? It does not sound like him at all.”

Tom gave an exasperated snort. “To hear you talk, I must believe you have been consorting with Will Hastings. He and Gloucester are planning something, I am sure.”

Jane had no intention of betraying Will’s trust any further. She would instead redeem her conscience by gleaning what information she could from Tom.

“I am not sure why you and her grace, the queen, took sanctuary. You must know there is a rumor in the city that you planned to rid yourself of the duke of Gloucester. Why would you do such a thing? What do you fear from him? We all want what is best for the little king, do we not? As long as he is crowned he—”

Tom was getting impatient with all these questions; he needed to leave. “Richard of Gloucester has already imprisoned my brother and my uncle,” Tom interrupted, “and the devil only knows what he would do to me, if he got the chance. His action at Stony Stratford alarmed us enough to seek sanctuary from him. Be that as it may, I am hoping you might give me shelter until I know what Gloucester will do next.” He did not elaborate.

They had reached Jane’s front door, and Tom turned her into his arms, needing to kiss her again. “What say you, Jane. Will you hide me? And when I escape next, we can be together.”

Again Jane argued with herself. She wanted to tell him that aye, she would harbor him and that she, too, longed for him. However, even though she was still mistress of this house, she was now under
Will’s protection, and Will detested Tom. She certainly could not hide Tom in the house when Hastings was her lover.

Wanting to savor the moment, Jane pushed Will from her mind. “I will find somewhere for you, never fear, but it cannot be here. When I have, I will get word to you at the abbey. You may trust me to be discreet.”

Tom was puzzled. “Why not here at your house, sweetheart? No one would look for me here.”

Jane stood on the front doorstep and took his face in her hands. How unkind fate was, she thought. She had dreamed of this moment through the years, and now when she and Tom might finally be free to love each other, she was again tied to another man. She must tell Tom the truth; her debt to Will was too great to betray his trust now.

“Because I am not free,” she managed to utter. “Lord Hastings is my protector now.”

“What!” Tom almost spat, aghast. “That old man. You are bedding that paunchy, balding—”

“Soft, Tom.” Jane was stern. “I will not have Will maligned thus. At least he was immediately concerned for my welfare when Edward died. Where were you, if you profess to be so devoted?”

“Opportunist!” Tom accused his rival. “And he who was supposed to be so loyal to my stepfather must have been courting his mistress behind his back. He disgusts me.”

“ ’Tis a lie! I was faithful to your stepfather and Will was always loyal,” she cried and then stroked his bearded cheek. “Oh, Tom, do not let us quarrel. I am sorry if I disappoint you, but I must look after myself. Will offered me protection and I accepted. It does not mean I love him the way I love you.”

Tom’s face brightened. “So you do love me, Mistress Shore. I thought as much.”

She grasped his hands and urged, “Go quickly, Tom, before
the watch finds you. I will come to Westminster when I have a plan.” Before he could protest, Jane had slipped inside the house, leaving her intoxicating rosewater scent lingering in the night air and Tom staring at the closed door.

R
ichard of Gloucester took a bold step by sitting in the king’s chair at his first council meeting a week after his arrival, but any misgivings the lords spiritual and temporal may have had with regard to the smooth transition of reigns were soon dispelled by the protector’s quick grasp of affairs and commanding leadership. There was no doubt who would be regent now, especially as Elizabeth’s flight into sanctuary had reinforced the council’s belief that her action had been self-serving and not for the good of the country.

Will Hastings watched with relief and hope as the lords consented and formally proclaimed Richard protector and defender of the realm, to include the governance of the young king. This was to continue until Edward came of age at sixteen in four years’ time. Will felt certain Richard would rule with a fair hand and was pleased when he declared that Will would retain his positions as the king’s lord chamberlain and captain of Calais. He was also given back his title of master of the mint.

After the preliminaries, a discussion arose as to appropriate housing for the new king, who was still lodged at the bishop of London’s residence.

“Why not at Westminster?” the new chancellor, John Russell, bishop of Lincoln, suggested.

Will immediately raised an objection: “My lord bishop, the palace is adjacent to the abbey, where the queen and her son are lodged.” His implication was backed by several lords. It was then that Henry Stafford, duke of Buckingham, began to assert his authority, which, Will noted, Richard welcomed. “The only palace fit for a king is the Tower,” Buckingham said, his rather booming voice halting the discussion. “It has housed English kings since the
Conqueror, and its garrison will assure the safety of the sovereign.”

Richard nodded his endorsement of this idea. “Let us waste no time in removing the king to the Tower’s state apartments. I thank you, my lord duke, for your wise solution.”

Next the lords consulted on a new date for the coronation, and again Buckingham offered the solution, which was immediately agreed upon: the feast of St. John the Baptist.

“May I suggest, my lords,” Will began, taking the floor, “that before we can plan a coronation, we must first coax the queen and, more important, the young duke of York out of sanctuary. The people would wonder why the king’s mother and brother were not in attendance.”

“A good point, Lord Hastings,” Richard agreed and promptly appointed a committee to assure Elizabeth and her children of their safety if they left sanctuary. Richard continued, “Let me assure you, my lords, I have not nor will I ever threaten women, and so what does the queen have to fear from me? From us? Do we all not want to see her son crowned, keep the kingdom safe for him?” Richard was pleased to see the lords agreeing with him. “After all, I did not ask for this role. I am here to honor my brother’s command.” It was as well to remind them, Richard thought, wishing himself back in the Yorkshire dales.

“With regard to the actions of Sir Edward Woodville, I would have him and his fleet captured. He is a danger to the peaceful transition of the government, not to mention his absconding with some of the treasury.” There had been some inkling of possible threats from France, but nothing had been reported as yet, Richard knew. Nay, Sir Edward’s movements again spoke of a Woodville plot to take control.

Will was impressed that Richard wasted no time, and he began to enjoy himself. Even Edward had not conducted council meetings so handily. He looked about him at the familiar faces of the late Edward’s faithful councilors—Rotherham, Stanley, Howard,
FitzAlan of Arundel, John Morton, bishop of Ely, and Thomas Bourchier, archbishop of Canterbury. However there were new faces that the protector had brought with him like Francis, Lord Lovell; John, earl of Lincoln; Thomas Langton; Richard Ratcliffe; Sir James Tyrell; and Sir Robert Brackenbury, all gathered to Buckingham’s side of the chamber, Will noticed. Was there any significance to this separation, he wondered? And then he dismissed the thought, as the next item up for discussion merited his complete attention.

“My lords, I would request your agreement that the charge of treason be placed upon those who would have taken possession of the king and endangered my life at Stony Stratford. I speak of the queen’s brother, Lord Rivers; her son Sir Richard Grey; Sir Thomas Vaughan, the Prince of Wales’s chamberlain; and Sir Richard Haute, the boy’s comptroller.”

Murmurs of opposition to this request outnumbered those “ayes” that came from Buckingham’s group.

Thomas Rotherham, archbishop of York, raised his voice. “May I respectfully point out, my lord duke, that although we appreciated your swift action to avoid a possible coup by Queen Elizabeth, her son Dorset, and Earl Rivers, you had not yet been officially named protector by the council, ergo the crime the gentlemen in question had committed was not yet treasonable.”

“Pah!” Buckingham spat. “You were naive in your dealings with the queen. You foolishly gave her the Great Seal, and now you refuse my lord of Gloucester when he so obviously saved the king and foiled a plot against his own life. He deserves the council’s support in this matter, lest a dangerous precedent be set about disobeying kings with impunity. From the moment King Edward’s decree was made, my lord of Gloucester became protector. Are you quibbling over dates?”

While Will was grateful for the posturing duke’s support, he cringed at Buckingham’s disregard of council protocol by speaking out of turn.

A glimmer of a smile crossed Richard’s face at his cousin’s overexuberance, but he waited quietly for the archbishop’s response.

“I would also respectfully suggest you stand down on this question, my lord duke, as you were of course involved in the arrest, and are perhaps too close to be impartial,” Rotherham countered, standing his ground and sending Buckingham back to his spot next to Lovell. Will caught Lord Stanley’s eye, and a surreptitious wink passed between them. One point to Rotherham, it said. Buckingham deserved the archbishop’s diplomatic reprimand, Will thought.

“I thank you for your caution, your grace,” Richard said, getting up from his seat and approaching the councilors’ benches. He turned a full circle, assessing every member’s willingness to support him or not. “Is this the way you all feel? Should we take a vote?”

Several men, including Will, nodded, and the closed votes were cast and counted in Rotherham’s favor. It was the first time that day that Richard of Gloucester did not get his way. The prisoners would remain in captivity pending further discussion of their fate.

“Treason or no. Which way did you vote, my lord?” Richard asked of Will as the Star Chamber emptied of councilors and he, Hastings, and Buckingham were left to discuss the day’s work.