The Red Rose of Anjou - Plaidy Jean. Страница 25
‘He provided none.’
Alice sat down on a stool and covered her face with her hands. After a few seconds she stood up. ‘I must see my husband at once and he must see the King,’ she said.
‘But Alice, what a fuss to make about a few clothes!’
‘A fuss? By no means. You must make a good impression on the people. They are not very fond of the French you know and they must not have a chance to criticize. They will welcome you because you represent peace. But you must look like a Queen.’
Alice remembered ceremony enough to ask leave to depart. She went at once to her husband who immediately saw the
Consternation reigned when the situation was explained, but within a few hours Suffolk’s valet John Pole was riding as fast as he could to London and he was commanded to bring back with him—with all speed—a certain Margaret Chamberlayne who was one of the finest dressmakers in the City.
Within a very short time Mistress Chamberlayne arrived and with her were bales of very fine materials. Several women were immediately found to work to Mistress Chamberlayne’s instructions and gowns were made which would be considered suitable for the Queen’s progress to London.
Henry, who never cared very much about his own clothes, was delighted to see Margaret splendidly arrayed. Margaret herself was delighted. She was liking England more and more every day.
So the journey to London began. It was a triumph. Margaret was beautiful in her magnificent new garments, her abundant golden hair glowing reddish in the sunshine, streaming about her shoulders; a circlet of gems was on her head, and her blue eyes were alight with excitement; a faint colour glowed in her cheeks, and she looked every bit the fairy Queen as she rode through the countryside with her husband. The fact that she was small and rather fragilely built added to her charm for the people. She looked so dainty. Everywhere she went the daisy was displayed and people who came to see her pass all carried the flower—most of them fabricated, waving them ecstatically.
‘The war is over,’ they said. ‘This marriage means peace.’
So they cheered and the cheers were for peace as well as for Margaret; and when they shouted ‘Long Live the Queen’ they meant also ‘Prosperity is coming’.
It was a warm welcome and it was for her. They made that clear. It was time their King married and gave them an heir and here was the bride—a bride from France to settle the war. Now there would be a coronation and then a royal birth. And no more war. Good times were coming.
At length they arrived at Eltham Palace and there stayed for a few days to prepare themselves for the journey into London. Margaret knew that now the important ceremonies were about to begin. But Henry’s devotion to her was growing every day and she felt complete confidence in her power to charm his people as she had their King. She had not met anyone so far who had not expressed delight in the marriage; but she did know that there were some who were opposed to it. The powerful Duke of Gloucester was one and she must be ready for him when he appeared, as he most certainly would.
From Eltham the royal party set out for Blackheath and there coming towards them was a procession consisting of all the high dignitaries of London. The mayor, the aldermen and the sheriffs of the city made a colourful spectacle in their scarlet gowns while the craftsmen who accompanied them were in vivid blue with embroidery on their sleeves and hoods of vivid red. They had come hither, the mayor told her in his welcoming speech, to conduct her into the City of London.
Margaret responded graciously and was exceedingly glad that Alice had noticed how ill equipped she would have been to face such a brilliant assembly. She could never be grateful enough for Alice’s care—nor for that of the Marquess. I shall insist that they are duly rewarded, she promised herself Henry will be willing to do anything that I ask him to.
Another party had arrived at Blackheath. This was led by a man of great importance. She could not help but be aware of that. It was apparent in the looks of almost near reverence in the faces of those about her. They were astonished too. He was old but handsome in a raddled way; he was most splendidly attired and the livery of his attendants was dazzling.
He rode up to the Queen, bowed low and made a fulsome speech of welcome.
Margaret was responding with her usual grace when the King said: ‘My lady, I should present you to my uncle the Duke of Gloucester.’
The Duke of Gloucester! The enemy! She could see the wise old face of her uncle Charles; she could hear his voice: ‘You will have to beware of the Duke of Gloucester.’
She was too young to have learned to hide her feelings. This was the man who had done everything to oppose her marriage. He was going to try to undermine her. His wife was in captivity because she had made a waxen image of Henry with the purpose of destroying him. The enemy indeed.
‘I thank you, my lord, for coming to welcome me,’ she said coldly and turned away.
Everyone about her was aware of the snub to mighty Gloucester and knowing he had inherited his share of the famous Plantagenet temper, they awaited developments in an awed silence.
Gloucester however did not appear to notice the slight. He was very gracious and when he wished to be, in spite of his ravaged looks, he could he charming.
‘What a pleasure,’ he said, ‘to find our Queen so beautiful. The King is a man to be envied for more than his dominions.’
‘There are always those to envy kings,’ said Margaret. ‘It is to be expected, and accepted as long as they do not attempt to replace them.’
Margaret had always had a ready tongue and it was something she had never learned to control, in her grandmother’s household she had never been seriously provoked; but she had heard so much about Gloucester’s opposition to her marriage and she was too young to hide her resentment.
‘Ah,’ said Gloucester, ‘that is wisdom indeed. But who, my lady, would not wish to be in the King’s place now that he possesses such a blooming bride?’
‘You are gracious.’
‘My lady, I would welcome you to the country, which I am sure you will rule well...with the King.’
He had turned so that his magnificently caparisoned horse was side by side with hers.
‘It would give me great pleasure,’ he said, ‘if you would rest at my Palace of Greenwich for some refreshment before proceeding into London. The people are going to love you so much that they may impede your progress with their cheers and their pageants. They all wish to show you how delighted they are that you have come to us.’
Margaret was about to say that she was in no need of refreshment and had no intention of resting at his Palace of Greenwich when the King said: ‘That is gracious of you, uncle. The Queen will enjoy seeing Greenwich.’
There was nothing .she could say after that but she did not glance at the Duke riding beside her and she wondered that Henry could be so affable to one who, everyone said, was his enemy.
The Duke riding beside her was smiling gaily. He talked to her about Greenwich and how fond of the place he had become since it had passed to him through his Beaufort uncle. Not the Cardinal whom she had met but his brother Thomas, Duke of Exeter.
‘I was granted a further two hundred acres in which to make a park. I have done this so we have some good hunting there. You like the chase, my lady?’
‘I do.’
‘Then you will find great pleasure in some of our forests. I always say we have the best in the world. When I was granted the land I had to agree to embattle the manor, and make a tower and a ditch...and all this I have done. So I shall proudly welcome you to Greenwich.’
She rode along in silence, her colour heightened, her head held high.
So they paused at Greenwich and afterwards made their way through Southwark and into the City of London. The pageants so astonished and delighted her that she forgot the unpleasant encounter with Gloucester. London had surpassed itself. The citizens revelled in pageantry and this show they were putting on to welcome the Queen was a prelude to all the rejoicing that would take place at the coronation.