The White Queen

I imagine that Margaret Beaufort’s husband Stanley must have had to talk fast and persuasively to convince his anxious monarch that, though his wife is a rebel and a plotter, he himself had never for a moment thought of the advantages that might come to him if his stepson took the throne. But he seems to have done it. Stanley “Sans Changer” remains in favor with the usurper, and Margaret his wife is banished to her own house, forbidden her usual servants, ba

For a powerful woman she does not seem much disheartened by her husband taking all her wealth and all her lands into his own hands, and imprisoning her in her house, swearing that she shall never write another letter and never stir another plot. She is clearly right not to be too disheartened, for here she is, writing to me and plotting again. From this I think I can assume that Stanley “Sans Changer” is faithfully and loyally following his own best interests as perhaps he has always done-promising fealty to the king on one hand, letting his wife plot with rebels on the other.

Your Grace, dear sister-for so I should call you who is mother to the girl who will be my daughter, and who will be mother to my son, she starts. She is flowery in style and emotional in life. There is a smudge on the letter as if she has overflowed with tears of joy at the thought of the wedding of our children. I look at it with distaste. Even if I did not suspect her of the wickedest of betrayals, I would not warm to this.

I am much concerned to hear from my son that your son Thomas Grey thought to leave his court and had to be persuaded to return to them. Your Grace, dear sister, what can be the matter with your boy? Can you assure him that the interests of your family and mine are the same and that he is a beloved companion to my son Henry? Please, I beg of you, command him as a loving mother to endure the troubles that they have in exile to make certain of the rewards when they triumph. If he has heard anything, or fears anything, he should speak to my son Henry Tudor, who can put his mind at rest. The world is full of gossips and Thomas would not want to appear a turncoat or fainthearted now. I hear nothing, locked away as I am, but I understand that the tyrant Richard is pla

I take the letter to my Elizabeth and watch her smile broaden until she laughs outright. “Oh my God, what a crone!” she exclaims.

“Elizabeth! This is your mother-in-law to be!”

“Yes, on that Happy Day. Why does she not want us to go to court? Why do we have to be protected from temptation?”

I take back the letter and reread it. “Richard will know that you are betrothed to Henry Tudor. Tudor a

She shrugs. “As long as we get out of here, I am happy to live with you in the country, Lady Mother.”

“I know,” I say. “But Richard wants you older girls at court, where people can see you are safe in his keeping. You and Cecily and A

“Why?” she asks, turning her gray gaze on me. “Tell me. I don’t like the sound of this. You will be plotting something, Lady Mother, and I don’t want to be in the center of plots anymore.”

“You are the heir to the House of York,” I say simply. “You will always be at the center of plots.”

“But where will you go? Why won’t you come to court with us?”

I shake my head. “I couldn’t bear to see that ski

“I am to be put in the charge of John Nesfield, who has guarded us here. I will live at his manor of Heytesbury, and I think it will suit me very well. You can go to court and you girls can get a little court training. It is time you were away from your mother and out in the world.”

She comes to me like a little girl, and kisses me. “I shall like it better than being a prisoner,” she says. “Though it will be so strange to be away from you. I have never been away from you in all my life.” Then she pauses. “But will you not be lonely? Won’t you miss us too much?”

I shake my head and draw her close to whisper, “I won’t be lonely, for I hope that Richard will come home. I hope to see my boy again.”

“And Edward?” she asks.

I meet her hopeful gaze without evasion. “Elizabeth, I think he must be dead, for I ca

Her eyes are filled with tears. “But you don’t expect him anymore?”

“I don’t expect him,” I say.