The Red Rose of Anjou - Plaidy Jean. Страница 83
There was a letter from her sister Yolande. She reiterated what her father had said. There were hopeful signs and they were excited, for certain things it seemed had happened in England which had changed the outlook. Yolande’s husband Ferri—the Count of Vaudemont—joined his wishes with hers that Margaret would lose no time in coming to Tours.
It was indeed exciting. She had to admit it. Something important was about to happen.
‘My dear mother, you have become young again,’ said the Prince.
She put her arms about him and held him close to her, suffocatingly so. She was very demonstrative and sometimes her absolute devotion was an embarrassment to the Prince. He was devoted to her. He knew that he owed her a great deal and all her vehemence was for his sake. He had been brought up to realize that he was the rightful heir to the crown of England and that it was his mother’s dearest hope that he should have it. Yes, she was wonderful, but he wished that she would not be quite so fierce in her displays of emotion.
He withdrew himself, smiling at her and kissing her cheek to show that he loved her even though he did not want to be suffocated.
‘We will prepare to leave for Tours at once,’ she said.
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It was with great emotion that she was reunited with her family.
Rene was there with his pretty young wife and he and Margaret openly wept as they embraced.
‘I am so happy at this change,’ he said. ‘I am sure, my dear daughter, that soon all is going to be well for you.’
Then she was embraced by Yolande and Ferri and when they were all presented to the Prince they remarked how grown he was, how tall, how good-looking.
‘A King in very truth,’ said Rene.
The King of France arrived and expressed himself deeply moved by the emotion he saw in this family reunion although no one believed that the Spider King of France could be moved for one instant for sentimental reasons.
Margaret was all eagerness to learn what this change in England was all about and when she was told of the quarrel between Edward of York and the Earl of Warwick she could only express the utmost delight. She was less happy when she learned that Warwick was on his way to France and was planning to visit her.
‘I will never see that man,’ she cried. ‘He is responsible for all my troubles.’
‘You must see him,’ said her father. ‘You must forget all that has gone before. In him could lie your salvation.’
‘In that case I shall remain unsaved. I will not see a man who has called my son a bastard and thrown cruel slander on my honour.’
‘My dear daughter, you must be reasonable.’
Margaret said there was no need of them to continue the conversation for she had made up her mind.
A few days passed during which Rene, Yolande and Ferri did all they could to persuade her. She was adamant.
‘It is too much to ask. Moreover if he is ready to betray his friend Edward, whom he made King in name, how could I trust him?’
‘Edward deceived him. You must take advantage of this quarrel between them.’
‘I will have nothing to do with Warwick.’
Rene was a little impatient. The King of France was anxious for a rapprochement between Warwick and Margaret for it was very much to his advantage to make life uncomfortable for Edward.
‘I will see that an understanding is brought about between these two,’ said Louis. ‘When Warwick arrives he shall be presented to me in Margaret’s presence.’
And this was what happened.
The King of France greeted the Earl with warmth and then presented him to Margaret, who regarded him stonily.
‘Nay, my lord,’ she said ignoring Warwick and looking fixedly at Louis, ‘in all respect to myself and honour to my son I cannot receive the Earl of Warwick.’
Louis was annoyed but could do nothing about it. He drew Warwick on one side.
‘The lady has a violent temper,’ he said. ‘We shall have to find a means of placating it. When she realizes what you can do for her and her son she will be more gracious.’
Yolande came to Margaret’s private apartments to remonstrate with her.
‘You were always stubborn,’ she said. ‘The King will be furious. What you did was tantamount to an insult to him.’
‘In presenting that man to me he was insulting me.’
‘You, my dear Margaret, are not the King of France!’
‘Nay, but I am the Queen of England.’
‘Some would say England has a Queen Elizabeth.’
Margaret had to restrain herself for she could have slapped her sister’s face. Yolande and she had quickly discovered that their temperaments did not blend well together.
‘I shall do what is right according to my own standards,’ she snapped.
‘And lose yourself a throne. You may do that but that you should prevent your son’s taking what he has a right to is nothing but selfish.’
Yolande flounced out of the room but her remark had made more impression on Margaret than all the persuasion had done and very shortly afterwards she agreed to see Warwick.
It was not in her nature to make it easy for him. She intended that he should grovel before her, and Warwick, proud as he might be, was ready to go to great lengths to obtain what he wanted. Friendship with Margaret was essential to his plans. Therefore this reconciliation must be brought about.
He tried to appeal to her common sense.
‘I put Edward on the throne,’ he said. ‘It was a mistake. I should have given my allegiance to Henry. If I had what a different story we should have had to tell.’
‘Indeed you have created much mischief,’ retorted Margaret. ‘You have been a traitor to the anointed King.’
‘I was wrong and am now ready to repair my misdeeds. I shall now be Edward’s foe as vehemently as I have been his friend.
I was misled by what I believed to be his claim to the throne and because of the King’s illness...’
She silenced him. She wanted no reference to Henry’s weakness of mind.
‘I see that what you did is unpardonable.’
‘There is no sin on earth that cannot be pardoned by magnamity and generosity of heart, my lady.’
All the time she was thinking what this man could do. He emanated power and strength. He was not called the King-Maker for nothing.
But she was not going to give way lightly. It was when the King of France appeared and with a certain humble grace begged her to pardon the Earl of Warwick that she at length agreed.
‘It will be necessary for my son to do the same,’ she said. ‘I am not sure that he will agree.’
The King and Warwick exchanged smiles. Of course he would agree. He would do exactly what his mother told him to.
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Louis expressed a wish that they should all travel to Angers where the Countess of Warwick and her younger daughter Anne would be waiting to receive them.
Margaret’s spirits were uplifted. She had had to subdue her pride to agree to friendship with Warwick but she knew that she had to catch at anything that might help her regain the throne for her son. Warwick could do that. He was the one man in England who could. It was really a miraculous piece of good fortune that he had quarrelled with Edward. Yolande was right. She would have been a fool to let that pass just because of her stubborn pride.
And how good it was to ride in a procession again like a royal Queen. And Edward beside her. Growing up handsome, brave, a son to be proud of. Nearly eighteen years old now. Old enough to take the crown.
She had heard with some surprise that Warwick’s elder daughter Isabel had married Clarence. Clever Warwick. He had somehow won Clarence to his side and no doubt the bribe of Warwick’s vast wealth had worked with the young Duke. He was a traitor to his brother. It seemed to her the world was full of traitors.
It pointed to one factor. Events were moving. The period of stagnation was clearly coming to an end and no matter what had brought it about that was something for which she must rejoice.