The Jewels of Warwick

by Diana Rubino

  Matthew did not know about her confrontation with Topaz over her last visit to the King, and she did not wish to tell him, but it was clear he suspected his wife from the way he was watching her, gauging her reaction.

  Topaz had bribed or bullied a member of her own household to continue poisoning her until she was dead. Only the fearful doctor and her own determined mother and brother in law had helped her elude death.

  She tried to keep her tone light as she said, "Matthew, I used to worry about Topaz a lot more when we were younger, because it never seemed like merely talk, the way we all spew forth our lofty dreams and ambitions when we're children. To her, it was going to be a lifelong quest, one that she has never given up."

  "She talks of reforms," Matthew said, lying sideways on the lawn now, resting on an elbow. "She's like no one I've ever met. She lets the servants dine and sup with us, she invites the stable hands in for Mass in the chapel, she tore down the high board in the great hall, she turned the dungeon into an animal shelter and... Believe it or not, she forbade the consumption of meat and fowl in the house! I finally convinced her that the lads' bones would become fragile as birds' wings should they not have meat."

  "Topaz always felt this way about animals." She laughed, picturing a menagerie, creatures of all sizes wandering among the chains and irons and instruments of torture strewn about the dungeon.

  "Perhaps I can talk to the King myself," she said more to herself than to Matthew. Maybe it was about time Henry found out about Topaz's obsessions. She was sure she and the level-headed King would come up with a reasonable solution. Their minds worked so well together.

  "Talk to the King?" he gasped.

  "Matthew, I haven't told anyone this, but King Henry invited me to court to join the King's Musick. Had I not had this...illness, I would have gone already."

  "Were you planning on telling Topaz?"

  "Nay." She shook her head. "She would never forgive me for betraying the family, as she sees it."

  Matthew nodded knowingly. This much of Topaz's personality he knew how to handle.

  "I was going to write her from court and tell her...Matthew, I have an admiration and respect for King Henry like I have for no other human being. I also love my sister. But I shall obey the King's orders. I have the chance to raise our family in the King's estimation with the help of my aunt and my own music. Truth to tell, I am also very much looking forward to life at court."

  "I'm sure you are. I am so excited for you... Imagine, one of our own Warwickshire folk, a courtier!"

  His smile and warmth penetrated her being, making her feel comfort in his company as their hands reached towards each other and touched precisely in the middle.

  Their eyes locked upon one another, Matthew's imploring, confused gaze pouring into Amethyst's, searching for an answer. "I don't want to see her harmed in any way. But..."

  His countenance intensified and his grasp on her hand tightened. "When you were ill, well…" He blew out a ragged breath. "If something happened to either of you, I could not live."

  "Oh, Matthew... Don't even think that way. I can talk to the King. He really is an understanding man."

  "Just be careful there at court. Although it is intriguing and luxurious, it can be a dangerous place. And please do write to me to let me know how you are getting on."

  "I wish I could, but what would my sister say–"

  "You are right, of course." He shook his head as if trying to clear it. "But I will seek news of you from your mother and Emerald, and may write to you if you will permit."

  "Yes, yes of course," she said eagerly, squeezing his fingers hard.

  His gaze upon her widened, his brows darting up and down as his eyes reviewed her features, tucking her image into his memory.

  "Wish me well, Matthew?"

  "Of course I shall."

  A wave of melancholy clouded her face as she held Matthew's hand tightly. As much as she wanted the court life, to be near the King, she would surely miss her cozy realm right here with her beloved family, and those who really loved her. But her destiny lay elsewhere, of that she was sure.

  "Just as I wish you and Topaz well. I pray that you may get her to see reason, to stop all her conspiring and wild talk. I fear she will no longer listen to me–"

  "Why, what has happened between you?" he demanded, his eyes narrowing suspiciously once more.

  "Nothing other than forbidding her to spout her anti-Tudor venom in my hearing, nor allow your young son to be polluted by her scurrilous talk," she said quickly. "'Tis not good for you or your family and she is so hot-headed at times that she never thinks of the consequences of what she says or does until it is too late."

  "All the more reason for me to worry," he said grimly.

  She patted his shoulder. "I am going to the court to fulfill my destiny. If anyone can get through to her, it will be you. Make her understand that your sons' lives are at stake if she does not curb her loose tongue and meddling ways. I think the love she bears us all will help her to see reason."

  "I pray to the Lord you are right. For if not, then God help us all."

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Whitehall Palace

  Amethyst gathered a stack of sheet music from the gallery and headed down the corridor towards her apartments. It was a hot and sticky day, and the courtiers who remained were either out riding or walking the grounds. The King and Queen had just left the day before on a summer progress. As much as she knew she would miss him, she felt a strange relief when he had departed the palace. A few weeks without his presence meant time to herself, to get to know the ways of court, and to lose herself in her music, her first passion and deal with her feelings for him as a man, not just her King, in solitude.

  As she headed for her apartments, she decided to take her lute out to the gardens and practice there among the colorful array of flowers and neatly clipped hedges and get some sun.

  A page scurried down the hall towards her as she was about to ascend the staircase. "Lady Amethyst, Lady Amethyst! You have a visitor!"

  The lad sped up to her, his shoes scuffing along the polished floor. The royal crest emblazoned on his skinny chest looked overbearing and incongruous, but no doubt made him feel like a grown man.

  "Who visits me?"

  "Lady Topaz Gilford. She is in the garden, Lady Amethyst."

  Topaz! What on earth was she doing here at court? A stab of apprehension shot through her, and for a second she thought to tell the page to send her away.

  She did not want to hear more of Topaz's tirades, stand captive to her accusations, her disparaging remarks about the King, and worst of all, another possible physical confrontation. Her life was at court now, and Topaz would have to accept it. But what excuse could she use to put her off? And would it not be worse to spurn her in such a way? Her sister was nothing if not volatile.

  "Tell her I am not in res..."

  She paused and calculated rapidly, as thoughts of her mother and Emerald entered her mind, once more, as they had every single day and night since she'd arrived. Court life was a whirlwind of activity, singing, dancing, feasting and heated discussion, and the King captivated her to a point of breathlessness.

  But there were times, especially the long nights in her dark chambers, when she longed for the comfort of her own Warwick Castle, her dainty boudoir, and the sweeping view of the countryside she loved so much.

  She decided on the spur of the moment to see Topaz. At the moment her sister was her only link with home and she was eager to know all about those she missed.

  "Tell her I shall be there momentarily," she told the page and entered her apartments to fetch her lute. Once Topaz left, she would have some time to practice alone before the evening's rehearsal with the King's Musick.

  Topaz was sitting on the fountain wall, dipping her hand into the pool of water, looking starched and formal, her hair tucked into a white coif trimmed with daisies, her brows plucked, her pink gown slashed in front over a richly embroidered kirtle.
The sleeves fastened back to show the white brocaded lining, her shoes plain white. She looked cool and comfortable, polished as always. A sprig of baby's breath was pinned to her bodice and a large satchel lay at her feet.

  "Amethyst!"

  "Sister."

  She rose and flicked the water off her fingers as Amethyst approached her sister cautiously, knowing that behind the smiling pink lips was a sinister temperament just bursting to be unmasked.

  "What brings you to court, Topaz?"

  "I trust you are enjoying court life?" Her tone was light and airy, no hostility or sarcasm seeping through. Yet.

  "I love it here at court making music. I can imagine no other life. I am sorry I left without saying goodbye, but I did not want another confrontation. It is what I wanted, Topaz, and I shall not listen to your insults and—"

  "Amethyst," she interrupted abruptly. "I am not here to condemn you. I am no longer angry. If you wish to live with these...people, I cannot stop you. We are all grown now, and must lead the lives we choose. I understand your love of music has compelled you to choose this course of action.

  "But you must see that your presence here is short-lived. As soon as you realize what that King is really after and get a glimpse of his lecherous ways, you will flee in disgust. So keep your distance. He is a Tudor. Trustworthiness does not run through Tudor veins."

  "So what are you here for, Topaz, if not to persuade me to see the error of my ways and leave? The King is not in residence. He is on progress. You will have to save your tirade for another time, if he will see you."

  She laughed, rolling her eyes toward heaven. "I am not here to see him. I've nothing to say to the man."

  "For what, then? A tour of the palace?"

  "Nay. I am going on a visit to Saint George's almshouse in Whitechapel and wish you to join me."

  Her quarterly progresses took her through the poorest parts of as many shires as she could reach, where she distributed food and alms to the beggars, offering any other help she could. Saint George's, one of the most desperate, was one of her favorites because many children lived there.

  Any uneasy creep of fear chilled her spine. "Is that not a dangerous area? Could you not just send them food or money and restrict your travels to the shires round Warwick, which have poor aplenty?"

  She shook her head. "Nay. Parts of London are poorer, more destitute than almost any shire near Warwick, you naïve little goose. Have you not seen any of it? God's foot, you've been here long enough! Doesn't the royal barge float far enough down the Thames to see the other side? Is Henry not even aware of the poverty and starvation his subjects have to endure?"

  "Aye, he is on progress as we speak, travelling through Ipswich and Norwich, then up the coast of East Anglia to Kingston-upon-Hull. These royal progresses are quite exhausting. He carries out his royal duties as he travels."

  "Aye, and then where does he go? To the royal forest for a few weeks of hunting. To slaughter the innocent round-eyed doe and stuff its young flesh into his chubby face. What good does that do the poor? All those forests teeming with food, yet if one poor person dares to–"

  "Topaz, King Henry has done a lot for the poor since becoming king, and so has Queen Catherine. You know him not. You have no right to stand here and judge."

  Topaz glared. "I know there is still much too much squalor and hunger about, and I do my part to correct it. Now, go and change into a simple frock. That billowy satin thing will never do. I know you courtiers all dress pompously to impress one another but you must look genuine when you visit the squalid slums or they will spit on you and throw rocks."

  So that was it. Her sister had made up her mind for her. Refusing to accompany Topaz would be tantamount to refusing the poor. Giving Topaz a few coins and a sack of food wouldn't be enough. She had to physically accompany her, to see the hunger and filth for herself.

  And she knew what her crafty sister had in mind. She did not merely desire a travelling companion. She was going to try harder than ever to sway Amethyst to her way of thinking, hoping to spread her beliefs throughout court.

  Oh, Amethyst knew her sister intimately. Now that Amethyst was a courtier, Topaz was planning to use this to her utmost advantage. She knew how convincing and persuasive Topaz could be. How else could she have gotten an unassuming country gent like Matthew Gilford to marry her?

  She looked down at her robe, a simple garment cut square at the neck, the large full sleeves pushed up unfashionably against the oppressive heat. Her hair was pulled up and piled atop her head under a coif, a few tendrils hanging loosely. She wore no jewelry. She was far from the picture of the stylish courtier.

  She turned towards the palace to change, but into what? The gown she'd worn to travel to court was simple enough, but much too heavy for a hot day like this. It was then she realized she had no simple attire. Since living at Warwick Castle and especially since arriving at court, her clothes were made for her by seamstresses, and the King had generously provided her with bolts of rich satins, cloth-of-gold and silver, delicate brocades, laces, and velvets from which was created her sumptuous court wardrobe.

  She dug through her chest of drawers, coming up with a simple linen tunic which she pulled over her head and belted with a tie-back from one of her curtains. It was green velvet, but it was all she could find in a hurry. She bloused the garment to conceal her curves, slipped her feet into her scuffy slippers, and went back down to join Topaz.

  She was already saddled atop Alice, her favorite mount, when Amethyst went round the stables to fetch Blossom, her birthday gift from Henry, a gentle gray palfrey that loved to breeze through the countryside.

  Two grooms she recognized from Kenilworth were with Topaz. One was delicate and slight, the other a burly bully type, more than able to guard them all against any adversary. All three horses were laden with canvas sacks filled with food and coins.

  "We are taking the mounts to the barge, and taking the barge to Tower Bridge. Mitchell will watch the mounts at the riverbank and Peter will come with us. Most of the folks know me there, but poverty does bring out the worst in even the sweetest disposition. Let us depart."

  Amethyst was apprehensive, never having travelled to this side of London before. For Henry's coronation, they'd entered the city through the Ald Gate, the easternmost of the city gates, and had ridden through narrow, shabby streets where she'd seen beggars in rags with dirty feet.

  But when entering London to come to court, they'd approached from Highgate. It had been dark, and she'd seen nothing but the tall structures leaning into each other and over the street, dotted with flickering squares of light. It was a world unknown to her, and she knew after today she would have a much different perspective on her own situation. Perhaps she wouldn't need Topaz's convincing; she would see it all for herself.

  The barge glided down the Thames, and looking past the Gothic spires of Westminster Abbey behind her, she could see the blue-green hills of Hampstead and Highgate unfurling dreamily over the horizon. The waterway was crowded with fishing boats, barges and ships, and all wound their way round one another to their destinations like a network of busy ants. Ships were anchored at either bank, their cargo being unloaded into lighters. Hundreds of boats traversed the river, each with a direction and purpose. The boatman of their barge shouted and waved to his fellow watermen, their voices fading into the industrious bustle of trade and negotiation. A tangle of masts and tackle lined each bank. Great cranes swung to and fro, conveying parcels of goods from ships to wharfs.

  From the Tower in the distance beyond stood quays and warehouses and the cluttered aggregate of the steelyard. It was a tranquil day, the bustling commerce somehow mollified by the heat, but here on the river the breeze was inviting and refreshing, the sun glinting off the water peacefully.

  She caught a glimpse of the shiny black skin of a pair of porpoises as they leapt in and out of the water, dodging the barge playfully and disappearing back into the murky depths, as carefree as the spangles of sunlig
ht glinting off their oily backs.

  They passed under London Bridge, its two pinnacled towers flanking them as the barge glided beneath it. The sunlight momentarily cooled to a soft blue-gray as they passed under the vast drawbridge. She looked to their left as they swept past the imposing Tower.

  Topaz turned her head away abruptly and Amethyst gazed upward at the unsightly fortress where she'd spent the first two years of her life. The dusty spires rose into the sky like dragons, their pointy flags fluttering in the breeze like forked tongues.

  They rode parallel to the bustling Thames Street, past dingy warehouses and cranes for unloading cargo, their graceful necks swooping down. Along the bank stood the stately mansions of the wealthy merchants and bustling wharves. Sailors and fishermen strolled about, all moving in their own busy circles. She could hear a cacophony of voices, the light lilting of French, the singsong Italian, the guttural German.