A Dangerous Inheritance

‘My aunt at court says it is no true marriage.’ That was Joan Tankerville, recently returned from visiting her kinsfolk near London.

‘Really?’ Thomasine Vaux sounded shocked.

‘It’s no secret, apparently. The Duke did not seek a dispensation. They are close cousins, you know, and they should have had one before they wed.’

The Duke? Kate was bewildered. Were they talking about the Duke her father?

‘But why did he not get one?’

‘Aunt Lucy said it was in case she bore him no heir, then he could get an a

‘But she brought him great lands, which he would stand to lose if he divorced her.’

‘Great lords like Gloucester don’t easily let go of what is in their grasp. He would find a way, make no mistake about it! Force her into a nu

‘What did you say?’ Thomasine nearly squealed.

‘The old Countess of Warwick. My aunt said he seized all her lands and lured her out of sanctuary at Beaulieu. Then he had her brought here, and locked her up in a tower. He had Parliament pass an Act declaring her legally dead, so that he could keep her lands.’

Kate was outraged. How dare they speak of her father so! She reared up in her bed and took pleasure in seeing their faces aghast in the candlelight.

‘If I reported you, you could be whipped for what you have just said, or worse!’ she warned, her voice icy. ‘The Duke my father loves his wife. I should know, and I will hear no more! And my grandmother is not locked up: she wanders in her mind, and is cared for by a servant, andshe goes out sometimes. So get your facts right before you spread evil gossip! Now can we get some sleep?’ And with these words, she turned over and presented her back to them.

Yes, her father loved his wife. Of course he did. She had been wrong to doubt it. And all this talk of dispensations was nonsense, for the Duchess had borne him an heir, and even if she hadn’t, it would surely never have occurred to him to put her away.

But how could she, Kate, really know the truth of it? No one could be privy to all the secrets between husband and wife. And she was no longer as naïve as she had once been. She knew that her father had not always been faithful: John was the living proof. And she remembered that there had been some dark mystery, and muttered i

But she’d heard that Isabel Burgh had a sister, Alice, who had once worked as a chamberer to the Duchess A

If so, she reasoned, John must have been the result of a passing fancy on her father’s part. Had it been more, matters between the Duke and Duchess would hardly have mended to the point where they could appear so contented together. And Kate had seen her father grip A

No, there was nothing wrong with their marriage, and the Duke’s brief fall from grace had meant little. He was a si

As for her grandmother, that sad, feeble-minded figure who lived in the south-east tower and rarely ventured out of it, the Duke had given her a refuge. She could not manage her estates, he had explained, so it was better that he had charge of them. And it was clear that he had provided well for the old Countess, for she was housed in good comfort, and provided with a servant and an allowance for her small pleasures, and sometimes Kate and the boys would visit her. But they never stayed long because she often forgot who or where she was, or would rant and rage against their father, who had been such a succour to her.

‘She is losing her mind,’ he had said sadly, after they told him of one especially vitriolic outburst. ‘Pay her no heed. She imagines herself at odds with the world, and with me in particular. Alas, she has had a sad life; it must be hard to be so reduced in circumstances when she was once the wife of great Warwick. Small wonder her mind is gone.’

And small wonder too that silly girls made up silly stories about an old lady locked up in a tower!

The news that filtered piecemeal through to Middleham was relentlessly disturbing.

In London, the Duke wrote, the Wydevilles were busy trying to consolidate their power in the face of strong opposition from Lord Hastings and other powerful barons, and the hatred of the commons, who had always reviled the Queen and her faction as upstarts.

My Lord Hastings has proposed to the Council that I should govern, the Duke informed them.

‘And he is right to do so,’ said the Duchess, looking up from the letter, ‘because King Edward, in his will, directed that the government of the realm ought to devolve on my lord until the King attains his majority.’

‘When will that be?’ Kate asked.

‘When he is fourteen or fifteen, perhaps. Kings are often declared of age long before ordinary mortals. It’s not a very long way ahead, but it’s long enough for your father to make a difference, and to wean his Grace away from the influence of his mother’s blood. I fear he is entirely their creature.’

‘Then he probably hates my father,’ Kate said.

‘That is a very shrewd observation.’ The Duchess smiled, although the fact that the smile did not reach her eyes betrayed her anxiety. ‘It is what my lord greatly fears, and why the boy must be removed from their care.’

Kate felt a pang of sadness for her cousin, who might be the King, and hostile, but who was also a boy of twelve who was about to be deprived of his mother and the kinsmen who had brought him up.

‘But will my father succeed in becoming Lord Protector? Has it been agreed?’ She was twisting her embroidery in agitation.

‘When he wrote this letter they were still arguing about it, and for all we know, they still are,’ A

The next news had been better. Gloucester had been assured he now had many supporters, with more people declaring for him each day. But still the Wydevilles were asserting their power and refusing to agree to his being named Lord Protector.

‘But why?’ young John had asked.

A

Then events had begun to move ahead dramatically. Gloucester had met up with the Duke of Buckingham at Northampton, and they had ridden south together, their combined strength at their heels. In the meantime, the little King, escorted by his uncle, Earl Rivers, and his half-brother, Sir Richard Grey, was making for London, where he was to be crowned.