Bess was a month short of her twenty-second birthday, and was everything Cicely was not. Tall, maybe not quite as lissom as she had once been, but very beautiful, with blue eyes and the red-gold hair that was surely the colour that would result if molten gold and copper were blended and then burnished. She also had her forehead shaved high, as fashion demanded, but which Henry did not like. Nor had Richard, which was why Cicely had never shaved her own. And never would.
Today the Queen of England wore pale-rose velvet trimmed with black fur, and one of the very new headdresses that fitted in a shining black band around her face, with a black veil behind and down her back. She was alight with jewels as she hugged her sister and then gestured for them both to be seated close to the flames.
Cicely, dressed in pearl-trimmed peach, held her hands out to the warmth. ‘Sometimes the Thames can be as cold as the Arctic.’
‘Or as cold as Henry’s connubial attentions.’ Bess wasted no time about criticizing her husband. ‘His weapon of joy is quite joyless to me.’
‘And while he puts it to use, I imagine you lie there staring up at the bed tester.’
Bess smiled. ‘Of course. If I close my eyes he might think I am enjoying it. Oh, enough of him. I am so glad to see you again, Cissy. We do not often have time together these days.’ She became serious. ‘I am so sorry about Jack. I did not even know he had survived Stoke.’
‘I wanted to tell you, truly.’ Cicely’s expression did not falter, but she made sure her voice did. She was not going to tell Bess the facts, either.
‘Well, I discovered that Henry and Jon had been to Knole, and Henry took delight in telling me that Jack was finally no more, He grunted it between thrusts. He also said that it was Jon who—’
‘Yes.’ Cicely told her what Jon had originally told her. That there had been a secret meeting that was eavesdropped upon, and Jack had been killed.
‘Would that it had been Henry who had been killed instead.’
Cicely’s eyes filled with tears, and she did not know for what deep reason. She hated lying to those close to her, but it began to feel mandatory. Yet these tears were different, and were for three very different men. Jack, Henry … and now Jon too. They all meant so much to her, even—pray God’s forgiveness—Henry.
Bess saw the tears. ‘Oh, forgive me, Cissy. I know how you felt about Jack,’ she whispered, kneeling to hug her.
A lady-in-waiting approached apologetically, and curtsied low. ‘Forgive me, Your Grace, but the Lady Ann is here.’
Bess sat back on her heels. ‘Our sister Annie, should you wonder which Lady Ann it is.’ She nodded at the lady-in-waiting. ‘I will receive her now.’
‘Your Grace.’
The lady hurried away, and Bess stood. ‘Have you seen Annie lately?’
‘No, not in some time.’ Cicely took out a kerchief to dry her eyes.
‘She has changed, and not for the better. All our younger sisters are at Sheen, as you know. Annie is twelve now, and will soon enter my household, but I already receive her from time to time, to acquaint her gradually with Henry’s court. Your opinion will interest me.’
Cicely did not reply because at that moment Annie entered. She was very like their mother, tall for her age, with an alabaster complexion, deep-lavender eyes and hair like spun silver. She wore a simple blue woollen gown that suited her youth and virginity, and also went well with her eyes. Her only jewel was a silver pectoral cross studded with green and blue beryl. With her budding breasts and small waist, she was no longer a child, but not quite a woman either, just prettily in between. Soon she would not lack admirers, except that her haughty demeanour and cold expression might deter. Her lineage would not, however.
Her glance flickered at Cicely, and then she curtsied low to Bess. ‘Your Grace.’
‘Annie. Will you not greet our sister Cicely?’
‘Lady Welles.’ It was said without a glance.
Taken aback by the obvious discourtesy, Cicely showed disapproval by not responding at all.
Bess frowned. ‘That will not do! You are to be civil and respectful while in my household.’
‘I was intended to be the future Duchess of Norfolk and therefore wife of the Earl Marshal, which makes me senior to a mere viscountess.’
Cicely wanted to box her ears.
So did Bess. ‘Well, perhaps I should remind you that our father intended Cicely to be the Queen of Scotland, which, given your apparent reasoning, makes her very much senior to you.’
Annie flushed. ‘I would still be the future duchess if the Howards had not fought on the wrong side at Bosworth.’
It was a grave error to say such a thing in front of Richard’s two most loyal nieces. He had elevated his good friend John Howard to the vacant dukedom of Norfolk, which had fallen into abeyance on the death of Elizabeth Talbot’s husband, the last Mowbray duke. Now the title was vacant again, because John Howard died supporting Richard. Howard’s son, the Earl of Surrey, was attainted and imprisoned in the Tower, and his son, fifteen-year-old Thomas Howard, whom Richard had intended as Annie’s husband, was one of Henry’s esquires. It was Annie’s hope that the attainder on Surrey would be reversed and the dukedom restored to him, so that one day Thomas Howard would come into the Norfolk title, and be Earl Marshal, making him the premier duke of the realm.
Bess was icily furious. ‘If I ever hear you say that again, madam, you will be excluded from court. Is that clear? The Howards fought for our blood uncle, Richard, the anointed king. Never forget it! Do I need to remind you that the Howards would not have had their lofty titles and positions in the first place were it not for Richard?’
‘I am sorry, Bess.’ Annie was suitably abashed.
‘Your Grace! You have offended me, insulted our beloved uncle and been unforgivably rude to Cicely. I am close to banishing you back to Sheen, to stay there for good. Do you understand?’
‘Yes, Your Grace.’ Annie’s voice quavered.
Bess resumed her seat, and after a lengthy pause, gestured to Annie to be seated as well. Another lengthy pause followed, intended to impress upon the girl the severity of her transgressions. ‘So, you are still determined to have Thomas Howard?’
Annie flushed again. ‘Yes, but only if his father has his lands and titles restored.’
‘Ambition is not always admirable, Annie. Believe me, I know the truth of this. It is better to settle for love, no matter how lofty or lowly the man.’
Annie glanced at Cicely again. ‘As you did, Cissy?’ she observed patronizingly.
Cicely was incensed. ‘I am Lady Welles to you, miss!’
Annie lowered her eyes. ‘I did not mean any insult, my lady.’
‘Oh, yes, you did. I pity poor Thomas Howard, being hag-ridden by an insufferable, unspeakably arrogant hussy like you. Perhaps he will be better off with the attainders remaining in place.’
‘But the attainder will be reversed,’ Annie replied confidently. ‘I will ask the king for it to be so.’
Good luck with that, Cicely thought, imagining Henry’s reaction.
Bess sniffed. ‘You will be fortunate to speak to the king at all, miss, let alone ask him to favour you with such an important boon. And Lady Welles is correct to reprimand you.’
Annie’s ears had gone very pink, and there were spots of high colour on her otherwise flawlessly pale cheeks.
‘Do you see Thomas very often?’ Bess enquired then.
‘No, but I will from now on, if I am to be at court a little more.’ Annie looked at Bess. ‘I … am still to be at court, Your Grace?’
‘We will have to see about that. My mind is not yet settled on it. You need to mend your ways, Annie.’
‘Yes, Your Grace. I … I really wish to be at court, to be near …’ Her voice died away and she blushed.
Near whom? Cicely was deeply suspicious. Not Thomas Howard, she was sure. What was this little troublemaker up to?
But Bess imagined it was to have been another reference to Thomas. ‘Apolog
ize to Cicely properly, and I may show more tolerance.’
Annie’s lips parted, and then she looked at Cicely. ‘I am sorry, Cissy.’
Cicely permitted the familiarity. ‘Annie, my husband may not be an earl or a duke, but he is the king’s uncle and Lady Margaret’s much-loved brother. He is also noble in spirit and action, a truly honourable lord and I love him very much. I will not forgive you if you ever insult him again as you have today. Nor will the king or Lady Margaret, I can promise you that.’
‘I really am sorry.’
Was the contrition manufactured? Cicely looked into the lovely lavender eyes, and doubt retained the upper hand.
Bess drew a long breath. ‘You may go now, Annie. No, it is not dismissal, rather a little thoughtfulness, for I believe you will find Thomas in the hall with the other esquires. I noticed him earlier. I believe they all go to Esher tomorrow. But do not go alone. Who brought you here from Sheen?’
‘My nurse, Your Grace.’
‘Then see to it that she accompanies you. Do you understand? I will not have you jeopardizing your reputation, or indeed your chastity, or bringing shame upon our family. Nor will the king suffer it. Have I made myself abundantly clear?’
‘Yes, Your Grace.’ But there was a new light in Annie’s eyes.
‘Well, go then, so that Cissy and I may talk about you.’
Annie only just remembered to curtsey again before scurrying away.
Chapter Eleven
Bess looked at Cicely. ‘What do you think?’
‘Pure Mother.’
‘Indeed so. Oh, enough of Annie, for I have some news I wish to share with you first. Henry’s weapon of joy has managed to get me with child again. I informed him this morning.’
Cicely hesitated. ‘Are you pleased?’ she asked tentatively.
‘Yes, if only because it means Henry will keep his husbandly duties to himself for the coming months.’ Bess sighed. ‘I swear he eats raw garlic deliberately.’
‘Garlic?’ Cicely had never detected such a thing on him, only cloves.
‘Oh, yes. Just before he comes to me.’
Cicely did not know what to say. It sounded the sort of thing Henry would do. She had to conceal a glimmer of amusement.
Bess tossed her head. ‘Just because he does not like the violet water I use. He says it makes him cough.’
‘Then use something else.’
‘No. Why should I?’
‘For the same reason he should stop eating garlic,’ Cicely replied sensibly.
‘Give in to him? Never. I vow he spends more time in his mother’s bed than mine.’
‘Bess! You would be very silly indeed to repeat that!’
‘I would not say it to anyone else.’
Cicely drew a long breath. What a fool Bess was to not court the skilled and considerate attentions of a lover like Henry. He would never be an easy man to contend with, and sometimes he was downright dangerous, but he was certainly not impossible. Or as abhorrent as his queen insisted.
‘What does he say of me?’ Bess asked then.
‘He does not, because he knows I will always defend you.’
Bess gave a smile of sorts. ‘You still think me a nitwit, do you not?’
‘I know how you struggle, Bess. It is not my place to express an opinion.’
‘That is because he loves you and treats you well.’
‘And he is not entirely without consideration towards you.’
‘I know. You told me that you and he parted acrimoniously at Huntingdon.’
‘He thought I was part of a plot to kill him. Oh, do not ask more, for it was so foolish.’ She did not intend to mention the violence with which he had treated her on that occasion. ‘But the fact remains that I am still York, and I let him know it.’
Bess’s jaw dropped. ‘You continue to say so to his face?’
‘If the occasion arises.’
‘Jesu, Cissy, how is your head still on your neck?’
‘Because he likes what that head can instruct the rest of me to do,’ Cicely replied.
Bess stared, and then laughed. ‘Well, I am relieved that it is your body he is interested in, not mine.’
‘Bess, your body is the one that must present him with heirs. As it seems to be doing right now. I just wish—so much—that you and he could like each other. If you could find some little common ground …’
‘He married me to make his throne safer, not for any other reason, and he could not make it clearer if he pinned a proclamation to the marital bedpost. He only needed to be a little kinder, but he commenced as he meant to go on. Yet with you, he plays the exquisite lover.’
‘Please forgive me, Bess.’ Cicely felt guilty, even though she had not sought Henry’s attention.
Bess smiled. ‘Of course I forgive you, Cissy. Heaven alone knows how venomous he might be if he did not have you to turn to. For my part, I no longer think he even needs to visit my bed. A scowl would probably suffice to plant his seed in me. Not that I have carried to full term since Arthur. No doubt Henry wonders if I have fallen over purposely, twice, to deprive him of heirs. Would that I had, but—’ She broke off, embarrassed. ‘Forgive me, Cicely, that was thoughtless of me. I know you want more children.’
‘I would give so much to present Jon with an heir.’
‘There is still no sign?’
‘Nothing.’
‘So, since Richard you have lain with Henry, Jack and Jon, and once with John of Gloucester, yet you—’
‘Am now barren.’
‘At least your poor little boy was by the finest king England has known.’
Cicely thought it was time to tell Bess the truth about Leo. One lie less with which to be burdened. ‘Is by,’ she said quietly. ‘My son is by Richard.’
There was silence, during which Bess gazed at her as if she had sprouted horns. ‘Do you mean…?’
‘I want your vow you will never repeat this. Your vow, Bess.’
Bess was still thunderstruck. ‘Yes, you have my vow.’
‘My baby did not die at Wyberton.’ Cicely told her all about Leo.
Bess rose slowly, her gown spilling from the movement. ‘I … do not know what to say. You have had so many secrets, and have kept them from me.’
‘Not through choice, Bess, but of necessity. And we have not always been friendly these past few years,’ Cicely reminded her.
‘I know. Well, I have vowed to hold my tongue, and I will.’ Bess smiled sadly. ‘I would give everything, including my king, just to have lain once with Richard. I said once that I would like to see Henry’s severed head on a platter, with his equally severed genitals stuffed between its teeth as garnish. I meant it.’
Cicely wondered how Henry would like to see Bess served. Expertly trussed, no doubt, with a very thorny red rose protruding from a very personal place.
Bess inhaled, clearly distracted, but then managed to speak of something else. ‘And you do not know what the meeting at Knole was all about?’
‘No.’ Cicely did not react.
‘I gather the house was emptied, even of the great slime himself, Morton, so that Henry, your husband and certain guests from Brittany could have complete privacy. And then there is this strange boy, a Breton, who entered Henry’s household a few days ago. Who on earth is he? I have asked various discreet persons, and absolutely no one knows anything.’
‘I really do not know anything, Bess.’
‘Hmm, I doubt it.’ Bess pursed her lips, but then went on more briskly. ‘On reflection, perhaps it is best not to know what devious, miserable-hearted, fiendishly dishonourable schemes Henry embarks upon. My opinion of him is low enough already, without having to excavate a huge pit in which to accommodate it to the full.’
Cicely laughed. ‘What a picture you draw.’
‘Why is he being so selective about who goes to Esher?’
‘I have no idea,’ Cicely replied, truthfully this time.
‘Well, if he thinks he can escape me
, he is wrong.’
‘What does that mean?’
‘Oh, nothing. Would you care for some wine?’
When Cicely left Bess, she meant to return directly to Pasmer’s Place, but was accosted by a page who requested her to accompany him to Lady Margaret. What it was to be sought after, she thought.
Margaret was starched and wimpled so much that she could hardly move her head as she came to greet Cicely, hands outstretched. ‘My dear, I am glad to see you again.’
Henry’s mother knew and disapproved of Viscountess Welles’s place in her son’s life. She did not like it for many reasons, especially the insult she believed it dealt to her brother Jon … but her loyalties were divided, because Henry’s threats to Jon had driven Cicely into the royal bed in the first place. Blaming Henry for anything at all went against the grain with his doting mother, but in this instance, not even she could deny his guilt.
The rooms were luxurious, although in general the colours were subdued. It was a place of compromise, blending the occupant’s religious character with her grand position as the most influential woman in Henry Tudor’s England. It bowed its meek, righteous nun’s head respectfully, but when it looked up again, it revealed the grandeur and ambition of a cardinal. Her London mansion, Cold-harbour, now had the splendour of a cathedral, maybe even of the Vatican itself, and her favourite manor in the country, Collyweston, was being refurbished to the standard of a palace. Henry’s beloved mother lacked for nothing.
‘Will you drink hippocras with me?’ Margaret enquired, indicating a chair by the fireplace and then snapping her fingers at a waiting page.
‘I will soon be intoxicated, Lady Margaret, for I have already taken wine with the queen.’
Margaret’s smile became thin. She had little time for Bess.
For the second time that day Viscountess Welles sat by someone’s fire, this time holding a cup made of chased gold. Margaret waved the servants away, and then made certain all doors were closed before returning to sit close to Cicely.
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