Page 58 of The Forsaken (Echoes from the Past #4)
FIFTY
Westminster Palace, London
The rain fell in sheets, soaking everything in its path and leaching every bit of daylight from the rooms. Braces of candles were lit despite the early hour, and a fire burned in every grate, adding a bit of coziness, but not nearly enough heat to warm the chambers.
Guy and Sir Anthony Hayes, one of Warwick’s most trusted knights, stood guard at the antechamber on Warwick’s orders, doing their best to look bland and disinterested in what was happening inside as the earl’s voice thundered from behind closed doors.
Warwick didn’t bother to hide his displeasure at being thwarted, and anyone who passed close enough to the door could hear exactly what was being said.
All Guy and Anthony could do to protect the earl’s privacy was advise the passersby to move on and not linger in an ill-disguised attempt to hear more.
Guy had arrived at Westminster Palace a few weeks ago as part of Warwick’s retinue.
The earl had recently returned from abroad, having been involved in negotiations with France regarding a bride for King Edward.
The object of the discussions was Bona, the daughter of Louis, the Duke of Savoy, and the sister-in-law of King Louis XI.
Pleased with the outcome of the proceedings, the earl had been eager to share the news with Edward.
The ride from Middleham had been a merry one, with the earl regaling his escorts with stories of the French court and enjoying the journey as they passed through peaceful villages and sleepy hamlets.
Warwick had appeared not only happier, but healthier.
He’d looked gaunt and tired after the siege of Norham Castle and the subsequent foray into Scotland, but after weeks of being wined and dined by the French, he’d seemed more his old self, bursting with vitality and brimming with self-importance.
That had been before he found out on his arrival in Westminster that he’d been negotiating on behalf of a bridegroom who was already wed.
“Who does he think he is?” Warwick roared from the antechamber, addressing his brother, George Neville, the Bishop of Exeter.
“A monarch does not marry on a whim, and in secret! Elizabeth Woodville is a beauty, no one is contesting that, but he could have simply bedded her, or even set her up as his mistress if he’s so smitten.
He could have fucked her until he tired of her—and he will tire of her—while still doing his duty to the Crown.
He didn’t have to marry the wench, by God!
Think of it,” Warwick continued, his ire not having diminished an iota since learning of the marriage several weeks ago.
“A Lancastrian widow, with two children, who’s of advanced years, and comes from a long line of no one of consequence.
What was he thinking?” Warwick’s voice growled like distant thunder, too far away to do any damage, but still threatening.
“She bewitched him,” the bishop replied in a calmer tone. “There’s talk about her, and her mother too. Powerful witches, both of them.”
“I’ve heard the gossip, George, but nothing that can be proven,” Warwick replied with disgust. “There’s no evidence of witchcraft. I’ve searched.”
“Edward married her. Isn’t that proof enough of her sorcery?”
“Not the sort that can stand up before a court,” Warwick snapped. “Even the emasculated relics who make up the ecclesiastical court know the difference between sorcery and lust. I’ve no doubt they felt the stirring of it once or twice.”
“Come now, Dick. Sometimes an accusation is enough, you know that as well as I do,” his brother replied. “Once an idea is planted, it takes root. ”
“Edward won’t listen. He’s besotted. He’s always liked a pretty face, but this is the most irresponsible thing he’s ever done.
To marry for love!” Warwick raged. “Men like us don’t marry where our hearts take us.
We do our duty, we advance the interests of our family, we think with our heads and not our cocks.
If every nobleman in England married for love, where would we be? ”
Happy ? Guy thought sourly. He had no business passing judgment on his sovereign, but he envied the man.
Edward was clearly in love with his queen, and she returned his affections.
The two of them glowed in each other’s presence, like twin flames reflected in a dark pool.
Where there was love like that, children followed.
That was the consequence of desire, genuine desire, the kind that quickened the heart and stirred the blood.
Elizabeth Woodville didn’t just do her duty by her lord, she relished it; it was obvious.
Guy had never seen a married woman who looked so sensual, so eager.
It was all right there in her eyes, in the way her lips parted when she gazed upon her lord, and the way she arched her back, making her breasts appear bigger and rounder.
She made no attempt to hide her desire, and Edward preened and strutted when she was around, glorying in her love and stoking her passion.
What would it feel like to be that happy, to be loved and to be able to return that love openly and honestly?
Even Warwick, who raged against Edward’s choice of bride, knew love.
His countess adored him and waited for his return like a blushing new bride.
Her gaze followed her husband about the room, and if he happened to glance her way or bestow her with an absentminded smile, she glowed like the moon, her joy at his attention obvious.
Warwick had not married for love, but he did care for his wife.
He had a devoted woman to come home to, a woman who cloaked him in her love and saw to his every need, and he was shrewd enough to appreciate that.
Warwick’s voice rose again, his anger not yet waning. “George, if I don’t find a way to end this marriage soon, it’ll be too late. Once she gets with child, he’ll never let her go. And if she has a boy… ”
“She might be with child already. She’s proven herself to be fertile.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
The bishop sighed with impatience. “If she has a son, the succession is assured, and if she bears a daughter, Edward might still be persuaded to put her aside and marry elsewhere. Bide your time, brother. Edward needs you. He needs your support. You are the ‘Kingmaker’. He might have strayed, but he’ll always remember what you’ve done for him.
Accept this situation and find a way to turn it to your advantage. ”
Warwick’s reply was softer, more reasonable. “I plan to. I made him a king, and I can just as easily unmake him if he humiliates me like that again.”
“Careful there, Dick. Careful,” the bishop advised him in a soothing tone. “You were always quick to anger, but we can still benefit from this. You can benefit from this.”
“Well, you know what the price of my allegiance is, George, and it had best get paid in full.”
Guy and Anthony stood to attention as Warwick strode past them with a brief nod of acknowledgment. The bishop followed, his robes billowing behind him in the draft from the nearest window.
“Let’s go find some wine,” Sir Anthony suggested. “We’re no longer needed here.”
Guy followed Anthony, who had a nose for food and drink and always managed to get them fed and watered.
“I do hope we remain at Westminster for a while,” Sir Anthony said as he settled himself before a fire in one of the salons and called for refreshments. “I like it here.”
“Why?” Guy asked .
“Because it beats traipsing through mud and eating gruel in the barren fields of Godforsaken Scotland, or putting down rebellions and starving the enemy, and ourselves, in the equally inhospitable north. Here, there is ample food, lovely women, and endless intrigue. I’m in heaven. ” He sighed theatrically.
“I’m from the north,” Guy retorted, offended.
“I know, Guy, but you’re slightly less savage than some other Northumbrians I know. You’re almost good company.” Anthony chuckled and slapped Guy on the back. “I’d like to skulk here long enough to discover what our diabolical earl has in store for the comely Elizabeth Woodville.”
Guy accepted a cup of wine from a serving wench and stared into the leaping flames.
He stretched his feet out toward the hearth and took a long pull of wine while Anthony flirted with the girl, plying her with compliments and making her blush prettily.
Anthony was bent on seduction, and Guy wasn’t about to interrupt, given that the girl seemed to enjoy Anthony’s attentions.
Instead, Guy pondered what Anthony had said.
Diabolical. Surely Anthony was judging the earl too harshly.
Guy liked and respected the man, and had seen for himself how much Warwick had sacrificed to keep Edward firmly on the throne.
He’d worked tirelessly for the king, only to find himself deceived and humiliated by the very man he’d trusted.
Edward had wed Elizabeth Woodville at the beginning of May but had kept the marriage a secret for nearly six months, allowing his cousin to negotiate on his behalf and make promises that could no longer be honored.
Warwick felt a fool, and he wasn’t a man who’d tolerate being made a laughingstock.
The palace was rife with tension, the halls devoid of laughter and gossip, at least when Warwick was around.
Anthony might enjoy the politicking, but Guy wanted no part of the scheming that went on every day, behind nearly every door.
He suddenly missed home with an ache that pierced his heart.
He missed the cold, inhospitable north, and he missed his family, even Hugh.
His year in Warwick’s service was almost up. Perhaps it was time to return home.