A Dangerous Inheritance

Like many in this kingdom, I am horrified by the burnings. Sometimes I find it difficult to reconcile the kindly mistress who has been so warm and generous to my family, who loves babies and is godmother to so many, and is loved by all who know her well, with the driven crusader who demands this persecution. Queen Mary insists she does it in hope of saving the souls of heretics by giving them a taste of eternal hellfire. It is a kindness to them, she says. She is sincere in her convictions.

My enemy, the Lady Elizabeth, comes back to court much humbled and subdued after her year’s imprisonment in the Tower and at Woodstock. Whether she ever was involved in Wyatt’s rebellion, neither I nor anybody else could ever say, and certainly not the Queen’s Council, for she was perhaps shrewd enough to cover her tracks. In the end, they could prove nothing against her, and King Philip sued for her to be received once more into favour. It’s said she practised her wiles on the King, and I can well believe it. And so she was reconciled with the Queen, to all appearances, but I know for certain that Mary will never trust her again. Her Majesty has accorded my mother and my cousin, the Countess of Le

Elizabeth’s prevarication and insincerity ca

Kate

October 1483. Lincoln.

The court was lodged at Lincoln Castle, on its way south, when there came the shocking news that the Duke of Buckingham had openly repented of supporting King Richard – the usurper, he had called him – and was rallying under his ba

There was no question now of Kate staying with the court. The King was adamant that his wife and family go to Middleham, which was strongly fortified. With Buckingham on the Welsh Marches, and reports that the Wydeville exiles were arming and the south was in ferment, he insisted they would be safer there.

‘I myself will travel back to London with the court, to deal with the rebels,’ he said, his voice harsh. ‘Just let me get my hands on that traitor Buckingham!’

John, sombre-faced, sought Kate out. He was to remain with the King, of course, for his sword might be called upon in the coming conflict.

‘My father the Duke is immovable as a rock,’ he said. ‘He is set on this other betrothal. I told him I’d never consent to it, but he would not listen. Don’t look so crestfallen, sweet Kate. All is not lost, believe me. I will never cease to oppose him, and they ca

For a moment, Kate knew despair, and she clung to him, but a quick kiss was all they had time for, since she had to help the Queen’s ladies to pack. As she ran back to the royal lodgings, she was oppressed by the thought of the arid weeks of separation from John stretching ahead drearily, endlessly … Who knew when they would meet again – and if he would prevail over his father?

The court was tense, waiting for Buckingham to strike, and Kate sensed hostility mounting against her father the King. Every time she espied him, he looked more troubled, his brows permanently furrowed. His face was marked with cares, tense and haunted. She had put it all down to anxiety over Buckingham’s treachery, but then she began overhearing the gossip.

That was nothing unusual in a court, but this was different. It was pernicious, damning and nothing less than treason.

She first became aware of what was being said when, descending some stairs, she overheard two guards talking below.

‘Some say those poor Princes have died a violent death,’ a voice said, sounding as if it revelled in the imparting of such terrible news.

‘How?’ asked another.

‘It’s the common fame that they were silenced so as to make Old Dick safe on his throne.’

‘He ordered it, then?’

‘That’s what people are saying.’

Choking back tears, Kate fled back up the stairs, locked herself in her room and flung herself on the bed, weeping as if she could never stop. But there was worse to come. Later, as she was smoothing down her skirts and washing her heated face, she heard voices in the outer chamber. She recognised them as belonging to two of the Queen’s ladies, Alice Skelton and Elizabeth Bapthorpe.

‘I despair for those poor i

‘It’s an atrocious crime,’ Elizabeth replied, ‘and the King should be brought to account for it.’

‘If he intended to court popularity on this progress, he should have thought twice before doing away with his nephews,’ Alice said. ‘Mark me, we’ll see many desert him when Buckingham makes his move.’

‘The whole world is talking about these rumours,’ Elizabeth observed, ‘so you’re not going to tell me the King hasn’t heard them. And if they’re not true, why doesn’t he do something to stop the gossip? He must know it can’t be doing him any good.’

‘How would he do that?’ Alice wondered. ‘I’ll wager he can’t produce those boys alive. Come, let’s hasten with this mantle. The Queen is waiting.’

‘Surely she’s heard the rumours too?’ said Elizabeth.

‘She must have done. But she keeps her own counsel. You never know what she is thinking.’

‘She’s a loyal wife.’

‘Yes, but not a happy one, I think …’

Their chatter faded away, and soon Kate realised she was alone. She was hugging herself in her distress, unable fully to assimilate the implications of what she was hearing, and with a hundred questions teeming in her head. What was worst was that, for the first time, she found herself doubting her father, and that felt like the worst kind of treachery.

She felt the need to unburden herself to John. He was close to the King and knew something of state affairs.

He was delighted to see her, and walked with her into the bailey, where they braved a stiff autumn breeze to sit on a low stone wall. Fortunately, the weather had kept most people indoors, so they were alone for a time.

‘What is wrong, my darling?’ he asked at once, taking her hand.

‘I have heard terrible rumours …’ She could not bring herself to say more. It was as if giving voice to them would make them true.

John’s fine features grew serious. ‘There are many rumours. Buckingham and his friends have seen to that. But I would not give them any credence.’

‘These rumours are about my father … and the Princes that are in the Tower.’

John was silent for a moment. Then he said, ‘You must not believe them for a moment. They are wicked lies, put about by Buckingham and his fellow traitors to bring down the King. The Princes live yet, I would stake my honour on it. Your noble father is incapable of doing them ill, whatever some may say.’

‘I pray he will refute these rumours.’

‘I dare say he will.’

‘He should show the Princes to the people,’ she persisted.

‘Would that be wise?’ John wondered. ‘In the wake of the late conspiracies to free them, the King might have had them moved secretly elsewhere, and it would not do for Buckingham’s supporters to find out where.’

‘I had not thought of that. So you think I should not worry about the rumours?’