A Dangerous Inheritance

The Lady Margaret cut a far more regal figure than her son. She dressed like a nun in a severe black gown and pleated wimple; it was well known that she lived chastely (no doubt Lord Stanley had cause to be grateful for that, Kate thought irreverently). Her ma

She welcomed Kate coolly, then came to the point without bothering with the pleasantries.

‘His Grace the King told me he spoke with you this morning, and that we can rely on your absolute discretion.’

‘Yes, my lady.’

‘My son means to give England peace and strong government. His crown has come as of right to him, and God Himself has endorsed it by giving him the victory at Bosworth. He rules most rightfully over his people – our Joshua, come to save us from tyra

‘But how can he embark on his great task when there are those who might undermine his just title?’ the insufferable woman was asking – rhetorically, of course. Dislike bristled from her; it was as if she was constrained to a disagreeable but necessary task. ‘Two years ago,’ she said, ‘the usurper, your father, told his friend the Duke of Buckingham – in confidence of course – that he had no choice but to have the sons of King Edward put to death, if he was ever to feel secure on the throne. It finished the friendship. The Duke could not countenance such an atrocity, and made an excuse to leave court. The usurper, unaware that there was a rift, continued to correspond with him, and in one of his letters he wrote something that Buckingham thought clearly indicated that the deed had been done. Indeed, Buckingham had no doubt of it, and he was horrified. It was then that he switched his allegiance to my son. He confided to him, and to me and our chief allies, what he knew; and we began to work for the overthrow of the tyrant.’

Kate seethed. What she was hearing was bad enough, but the woman was baiting her and enjoying her discomposure, knowing she could say nothing in her father’s defence that would not be construed as treason. Only with difficulty did she hold her peace while the Lady Margaret continued.

‘Soon, rumours were circulating that the Princes had been killed. We did not start these rumours, although we made use of them later. But we had no certain knowledge of how the boys had been murdered or how their bodies had been disposed of.’

‘May I ask, my lady, how you could be certain that they were dead? An ambiguous sentence in a letter could surely be taken two ways?’

The Lady Margaret eyed Kate distastefully. ‘You’re a sharp one, aren’t you? But you forget that the Duke knew Richard very well: how his mind worked, and how ambition drove him.’

‘I knew him well too,’ Kate said in a quiet voice. ‘He was my father, and Madam, I could never imagine him stooping to such a low and dreadful deed.’

‘Maybe you could not, but others could, all too easily!’ the Countess shrilled, abandoning her habitual calm for a moment. ‘Do you want me to rehearse the roll call of his crimes? What of the many rumours? They would not be stilled because they were believable – and they were true! My dear child, there are none so blind as those who will not see!’

‘Forgive me, my lady,’ Kate murmured, trying to control her fury, ‘I can only speak from my own experience.’

‘Well, you were young and had evidently not yet learned to judge human nature. But I think you know more than you are prepared to say. What have you heard about the Princes? If your father did not murder them, where are they?’

‘I know nothing, my lady, beyond what I told the King,’ Kate insisted, wondering why she was being questioned again. Evidently the King had notbelieved her, and hoped his mother would get more out of her. But he was wrong there! Yes, she did know more than she had given them to believe, but of what she had learned from Pietro, Bishop Russell and Bishop Stillington (although he had not said much), she intended to say nothing. Least said, soonest mended, she reasoned. No one should be called to account because of her.

‘So you do not know anything about their murder?’

‘I know nothing of a murder, my lady.’

The Lady Margaret gave her a hard look.

‘Are you being obstinate with me?’ she demanded to know.

‘No, my lady. I am as desirous as you are of having this matter brought to light.’

‘Well, we will have the truth soon, no doubt – and I can tell you what it will be. Now you may go. And if you recall anything that may have a bearing on this matter, you are to come and tell me at once.’

Interlude

August 1561. Hertford Castle.

Queen Elizabeth glares at her Council.

‘No evidence of a conspiracy? Are you certain?’ Her tone is disbelieving, her face above the delicate lace of her ruff thunderous and pale. She is extremely tense, and looks thin and gaunt.

‘No, Madam,’ Cecil says firmly. ‘The minister – if he ever existed – has gone to ground. Mrs Leigh has vanished too. And Mr Gly

‘Is it certain that there were no marriage lines?’ asks Lord Robert, lounging in his chair. Cecil and the other councillors regard him with dislike. It is no exaggeration to say that Dudley is the most hated and envied man at court. What a silly girl Katherine was, appealing to him of all people, the Secretary reflects.

‘There never were any, according to Lady Katherine’s testimony. And no one appears to have been privy to this marriage but her maids and Lady Jane Seymour.’

‘I still think there was some greater drift in this.’ Elizabeth is obstinate in her opinion. ‘I am convinced there is more matter hid in this marriage than is uttered to the world.’

‘I can find none such, Madam,’ Cecil declares decisively. ‘We should focus upon the immorality.’

‘Is Lord Hertford on his way home?’ the Queen asks.

‘He is, and he knows the reason for his summons,’ Cecil tells her. ‘Fearing he might choose not to obey it, I told him that your Majesty does not mean to punish him, but that you require his presence merely in order to decide whether his marriage to the Lady Katherine is good and valid. I did not tell him that she is in the Tower.’

‘And what did he answer to that?’ asks Sussex.

Cecil looks at Elizabeth.

‘At first, he thought it would help matters if he stayed abroad until the scandal had died down. But – forgive me, Madam – when one of my secret agents at the French court expressed the opinion that his marriage to the Lady Katherine would but facilitate your own to Lord Robert here, he changed his mind and took a more optimistic view of his situation.’

‘God’s blood!’ shouts Elizabeth, banging the table and making her councillors jump. ‘Is there no end to this lewd gossip? And you can wipe that smile off your face, Robin.’ Dudley has the grace to look chastened. ‘Well, enough of that,’ the Queen continues. ‘At least Lord Hertford is on his way home, and then we can get to the bottom of this matter.’

Kate

October 1485. Westminster Palace.