The Red Rose of Anjou - Plaidy Jean. Страница 53

‘Go into the villages and hamlets,’ she said, ‘Search out boys with talent. Let them know that if they want to become musicians there is a place for them at Court. They will be paid good wages and will never want.’

When the boys began to arrive Henry showed an interest in them and their studies. He had always believed in teaching and bringing out the abilities of any who possessed them. There was J no doubt that this had been an excellent idea.

There were some who wanted to go into the Church. Henry had a special interest in these. He promised to advance them and did so, and took a great interest in their progress. Margaret moved to Greenwich to be nearer London—but not too near for the Londoners were ardent Yorkists, and she was anxious not to attract too much attention to herself and the King at this stage. It was important, she felt, to lull the Yorkists into a sense of security. Let them think they were in command. So they were, but not for long, she promised herself.

She rejoiced in Henry’s definite recovery, slow though it was: People were drifting to Greenwich. There were the sons of fathers who had been slain at St. Albans. They thirsted for revenge with a passion which almost matched Margaret’s. She encouraged them. One day it will be a different story, she told them in fervour. It will be for us to command them. And then it will be to the Tower in preparation for the scaffold for some.

York, Warwick and Salisbury, they haunted her dreams.

The day will come, she promised herself And then no mercy. She found pleasure in inventing torments for them. Henry would have been horrified if he knew what was in her mind. He had always been squeamish. Perhaps that was why he had all but lost his throne.

Never mind. He was a good and loving man. He would obey his wife. And then when her son was of age he would be a fine strong King, for she would bring him up to be just that.

In the meantime it was a matter of treading warily—which was very difficult for a woman of her temperament. But she was doing well.

In Greenwich they talked constantly of the day when they would be strong enough to defeat York.

‘We’ll have his head on London Bridge, never fear,’ said Margaret. ‘But not a word of this before the King. The King

is a saint. He would die himself rather than shed anyone’s blood. That is why he needs us...to help him govern.’

They were beginning to see in Margaret a leader. It was incongruous that this small woman with the dainty hands and the long fair hair and the eyes which flashed blue fire when she talked of what was in store for her enemies, should be the one to lead them. But such was the power of her resolution, such her eloquence, such her burning determination that they were beginning to accept her.

Henry the new Duke of Somerset had recovered from his wounds and was constantly at her side. She was going to put him in his father’s place as soon as possible. It was the least she could do for dear Edmund; but apart from that she loved the new Duke for himself. He was her ardent supporter and like her he thirsted for revenge.

There were three who were very welcome at Greenwich; Henry’s stepfather, Owen Tudor, and his half-brothers, Edmund and Jasper. Henry was always delighted to see them and would be happy recalling the days when he was a little boy and Owen Tudor had taught him to ride.

But the Tudors did not come merely to talk of old times with Henry. They were staunchly for the Lancastrian cause. They were strong men—all three of them, ready to face hardship, ready to risk their lives; and for the sake of Katherine, beloved wife to one and mother to the other two, they were firmly behind Henry.

They were pleasant days for Henry who was ignorant of the revengeful plans. He did not want to think of that fearful time in St. Albans. The wound on his neck had proved to be slight and he could not bear to think of poor dear Somerset lying dead under that inn sign. He never wanted to go near St. Albans again. He just wanted to forget the horrible sounds and sights of war.

Forsooth and forsooth,’ he muttered to himself. ‘Why do men make war when all know we are always better off without it?’

Let York be protector of the realm. Why not? It was what York wanted; it stopped war. A number of the people wanted it. They said York managed very well and as long as he went on doing so there need be no trouble. York had been most respectful to him and he had stressed the fact that he regarded him as the sole King of the realm. It was only because he needed to recover from his illness—which had been aggravated by events in St. Albans—that York was installed as Protector. It was only a temporary measure.

But Henry was very happy for it to continue.

So he listened to the music played by the boys who had been brought in to be taught and gently remonstrated with them when they did not play correctly. He loved to hear them and they loved to play for him.

Then there were those who wanted to go on pilgrimages to holy shrines. They came and discussed their projects with the King. He delighted to hear them. He himself would like to go on a pilgrimage.

‘That might be an excellent idea,’ said Margaret. They would travel through the country and the people would be delighted to see them, particularly if they had the little Prince with them—their gentle King who wished no ill to any and their charming Prince who could always captivate with his innocent manners. And her .. . well, they might not like her so much. There was a good deal of prejudice to overcome. But they must applaud her devotion to her family.

This was not the time though. Margaret had other plans...just at first.

‘When you are well enough,’ she told Henry, ‘we will make our pilgrimage.’

‘I feel well now,’ said Henry. ‘Well enough to make a short journey.’

‘We will see,’ said Margaret.

Not yet, she thought secretly. Not until the people can see you as their ruler. Not until York is no longer Protector. In a little while perhaps, but not yet.

The visitors continued to come. Margaret held her secret meetings and the King listened to his music, discussed possible pilgrimages, spent a great deal of time with his confessor, prayed and meditated.

Alchemists came to him who believed that they could discover the philosopher’s stone by which they could turn base metals into gold. ‘It would be a miraculous discovery,’ said Henry, thinking sadly of his depleted exchequer and how wonderful it would be if the country did not have to inflict such heavy taxation on its subjects.

He would visit the royal laboratories and spend hours with the alchemists. They arrived at Greenwich from all over the country. They were all on the verge of discovering the secret formula; but none of them ever found it.

And so the King’s days passed pleasantly, while the Queen gathered about her a formidable force.

The King’s health was greatly improved but he was easily tired and there was no doubt that the battle of St. Albans had had some effect on him. However he was well enough to take to the saddle; his mind was clear; and although he would never be robust, he was in good health.

The time had come, thought Margaret.

She did not discuss the next step with Henry. She wanted to present it to him as the considered opinion not only of herself but his friends.

Young Henry Beaufort, son of Edmund and now himself Duke of Somerset, was a bright young man of about nineteen or twenty. Understandably, he hated York with a venom equalling that of the Queen.

‘It is York’s contention that he is only Protector of the Realm during the King’s indisposition,’ said young Somerset. 'If the King is no longer indisposed there is now no need for York to hold that position. It seems, my lady, that all we have to do is announce that the King is well.’

Margaret was thoughtful. That was as it might be. But there would be fierce opposition, she knew. York, Warwick and Salisbury had gathered their troops and come to oppose Henry.