The Lady in the Tower

by Marie-Louise Jensen

  I leaned across and grasped his sleeve. ‘Cousin, can I trust you?’ I asked earnestly.

  ‘You sound so dramatic, Eleanor,’ Gregory protested. ‘Like a play.’

  ‘This is not a joke, but if that is all it is to you, let us drop the subject. Shall we canter?’ So saying I urged Arianna faster.

  My cousin cantered beside me until we reached Freshford and we slowed to a walk once more. Gregory looked thoughtful, but I ignored his sober looks and merely remarked upon the fine weather. He did not respond, but a few moments later he said: ‘Tell me what is upon your mind. I am your servant to command.’

  I chuckled. ‘Now who sounds like a play?’ I asked. But then I grew serious and told him something of Mother’s situation over the last four years. And then, saving the climax for last, I revealed how I had heard Sir Walter and the chaplain planning to poison my mother again. ‘She needs someone to help her,’ I told him passionately. ‘Someone must make Sir Walter see sense!’

  ‘But, Eleanor,’ objected Gregory, ‘why would Sir Walter wish to harm your mother? It makes no sense to me.’

  ‘I do not know why,’ I said in a low voice. It always came down to this endless why, and I was no closer to answering it than I had been four years ago. ‘I suspect he is not sane.’

  Gregory shook his head, but did not argue.

  ‘I can see that you are sincere, cousin,’ he said at last. ‘And that you believe all this to be true. But could it not be some kind of misunderstanding? Everyone has such respect for my uncle Walter. Why even the king trusts him and takes his advice!’

  I made an impatient noise in my throat, but Gregory ignored it. He sat very straight on his horse, his brow furrowed in thought. I looked at him anxiously, realizing that I minded whether or not he believed me. I wanted him to be my friend as he once had been.

  ‘Eleanor, what is it you wish me to do exactly?’ he asked abruptly.

  ‘I’m not sure, to tell you the truth,’ I admitted. ‘I hoped you might be able to help.’

  ‘Do you wish me to speak to Sir Walter?’

  ‘Good God, no! That would merely get me into trouble.’ As I said this, I thought he looked relieved. No doubt the prospect of speaking to his formidable and powerful uncle on such a subject was unthinkable. ‘In fact,’ I continued, ‘I do not want you to repeat what I have said to anyone; unless you are quite sure they might be of use.’

  Gregory sighed and shook his head. ‘I will think about this,’ he promised. ‘But really, I do not see what I can do.’

  I was not sure whether I had convinced him of the truth. Neither did he actually promise me any support. But we returned to the castle much better friends than we had left it. It was a relief to have been able to talk to him.

  Lord Stanton was in the stable yard when we returned. He had just dismounted from his own horse, and stood watching us as we rode in. Seeing me ride with a man’s saddle made him lift his brows in surprise. He sent me a quizzical look, but I met his eyes as briefly as possible.

  ‘Mistress Eleanor,’ he bowed, ‘and Hungerford!’ He nodded casually to my cousin in a way that suggested they were acquainted. ‘You will like to know that the king’s herald arrived scarce an hour ago. The king himself is expected at any moment.’

  I was taken aback. I had not expected the royal visit so soon—or indeed at all, truth be told. Stanton interrupted my thoughts.

  ‘Mistress Eleanor, I would urge you to hurry. You would not wish the king to see you in such a guise.’ As he spoke, he looked pointedly at my saddle. ‘He may get quite the wrong impression of you.’

  ‘I do not seek to find favour with the king, sir,’ I said as haughtily as I could.

  ‘More fool you,’ he retorted. ‘Better people than you have lost their heads on King Henry’s orders. But it was the possibility that you might find more favour than you expected and of quite the wrong sort that was on my mind, Mistress.’

  I felt my face flush hot, and slid off Arianna’s back with more haste than elegance. Stanton stepped up to me and held out his hand for Arianna’s reins. I was vexed at his interference.

  ‘I can manage myself,’ I said swiftly. Stanton shot me an amused look and bowed again.

  ‘I did not know you numbered stable skills among your accomplishments,’ he replied insultingly.

  I glared at him, cursing myself silently for my awkwardness. I was beginning to think him a hard man to get the better of. I took Arianna to her stable to escape him. I found Tom there, looking harassed and anxious.

  ‘I’ll see to Arianna for you, Mistress,’ he said. ‘There’s not going to be enough stable room. She may have to go out to pasture.’ I nodded my understanding, and hurried out into the courtyard again. My cousin was waiting for me and accompanied me back to the inner court. We parted on the stairway to the great hall. ‘We’d both best hurry and make ready,’ he said ruefully, looking at his muddy clothes. Then he took me by surprise by taking my hand and bowing over it. ‘Thank you for this morning, cousin. I shall think on what you said.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Dearest Mama,

  You did not wave to me this morning when I passed the tower. Did you not see me?

  With love

  Eleanor

  Upon reaching my room, I washed and dressed. I selected a kirtle of dark green and a gown of paler green woven with silver thread to go over it. Maria had insisted that yellows and greens were the best colours for me, so most of my new garments were shades of these. I picked out a pair of soft leather slippers slashed with green satin and pulled them onto my feet. They were more comfortable than anything I had worn in years, but would not last five minutes outside the castle. A rich girl’s shoes, I thought. For someone who doesn’t have to walk. But a part of me felt a guilty pleasure in wearing them all the same.

  I could not fix my hood, having no maid of my own. So, carrying the offending article, I was obliged to make my way reluctantly to Maria’s apartments.

  ‘Ah, Eleanor, there you are at last. You are tardy, the king will be here any minute,’ she scolded. Then turning to her maid, she snapped: ‘I am ready now. See to Mistress Eleanor’s hair, and be quick about it.’

  The maid bobbed an apologetic curtsey and drew me into a chair. But no sooner had she picked up the pot of hair paste, than we heard a bugle blown from the gatehouse.

  ‘The king approaches!’ we heard the herald cry.

  ‘Quick, quick!’ cried Maria, quite distracted. ‘We must be in the great hall before he comes! No time for the paste.’ She snatched the hood from the maid and hastily placed it onto my head herself, pinning it into place. I winced as the pins stabbed at my scalp. ‘Let us just hope that keeps it in place for the evening. Come, we must go.’

  ‘The king will only just be riding into the stables now,’ I protested. ‘What’s the hurry?’

  ‘You have much to learn, Eleanor,’ Maria told me sternly. ‘The king may keep us waiting for as long as he chooses, but we must not be even five seconds late for him.’

  ‘He’s not going to care about me,’ I grumbled under my breath. ‘I shouldn’t think he’ll even notice I’m there.’

  With my headdress in place and my dress adjusted, I felt prepared to meet a dozen kings if need be. We hurried to the great hall, our skirts hushing as we walked.

  ‘For pity’s sake, do not hold up your skirts like that, Eleanor,’ said Maria.

  ‘But the floor is dirty. They might become soiled.’

  ‘That is your maid’s business, not yours. At least try to act like a lady.’

  I pulled a face behind her back.

  We were not the first to arrive in the great hall by any means. There was a large crowd already gathered to greet their monarch and more people arriving. The ladies glittered with gold or silver cloth and jewels, the men were equally grand in their extravagantly padded doublets and their tight hose.

  When the king entered at last, my father at his side, everyone bowed or curtseyed low. It was a fine sight, an
d I was just a split second late dropping into my own deep curtsey. I peeped up at King Henry and experienced a shock. Gone was the tall, handsome man of my memory. Gone was the carefree smile and glow of health and happiness. Instead, an immensely fat old man waddled into view, leaning heavily on a stick. His cheeks drooped and his once merry mouth pouted discontentedly. His eyes, formerly full of energy and joy, now gazed on the world with suspicion and cynicism.

  He was approaching, and Maria nudged me to curtsey deeper. I knew I should not gaze upon the king thus, and I dropped my head lower, watching his feet approach, noting the swollen ankles and also the terrible smell that hung about him. The feet stopped right in front of me.

  ‘My daughter, Your Majesty,’ I heard Sir Walter say. I peeped up again, and my father motioned me to rise. I straightened up and found the king gazing intently at me. There was something other than world-weariness in the eyes that lingered on my face and figure.

  ‘Charming. Quite charming, Hungerford,’ he said. I felt my face grow hot under the royal scrutiny, and was glad when he nodded and walked on.

  ‘You have caught the notice of the king, Mistress Eleanor,’ hissed Maria, wasp-like in my ear. ‘That is fortunate but also dangerous. He has always an eye for the young and pretty.’

  I glanced at her and saw envy. He had passed her by without a look. Could she not be content with her conquest of my father? I considered her dispassionately. She was young, though not as young as I, but was she beautiful? I thought perhaps she was, in a strong-featured way that I did not admire.

  ‘I do not want the king’s notice,’ I said shortly.

  ‘Oh, I doubt you need fear greatly,’ she sneered. ‘I hear he is much taken with one of the young Howard girls. Catherine, I think she’s called.’

  ‘But he’s not divorced yet.’

  Maria regarded me coldly. ‘My, what a child you are, Eleanor.’ Then obviously feeling she had been too harsh, she slipped her arm through mine, gave it a squeeze and smiled. ‘He is the king. He can choose another wife, or take mistresses as he pleases.’

  I shuddered at the thought.

  The banquet that night was splendid in its extravagance. There were tables all the way round the hall and every seat was full. There were deer roasted on a spit, swans and peacocks dressed again in their splendid plumage. A sucking pig roasted whole in the kitchens, and carried in on a huge tray decorated with fruit. I had never seen such a selection of pies and pastries and the array of sweetmeats and fruits made my mouth water.

  The king presided over all this, one leg laid tenderly upon a footstool, eating steadily. He ate for over an hour. When at last he sighed and pushed his plate away, everyone in the great hall stopped eating at once. I regretfully relinquished the dish of sweetmeats, from which I had been about to select another marchpane confection, to one of the many servants who hurried forward to clear the tables. Never mind, I comforted myself. I could always visit Betsey in the kitchen on the morrow.

  Dishes were cleared from the top tables. At the lower tables, where the guests had made do with trenchers instead of plates, crusts and bones were thrown to the dogs. An unlucky servant tripped and fell while removing the king’s dishes. There was a huge crash that caused a sudden hush in conversation at the top of the hall. The incident would have been soon forgotten but for my father’s conduct. He leapt to his feet and began beating the unfortunate man with a tall wooden candlestick he had snatched from the table.

  ‘You clumsy oaf!’ he screamed. ‘What do you think you are doing causing such a commotion before His Majesty?’

  The man cried out apologies, but he was ignored. Sir Walter continued to strike him and berate him at the top of his voice.

  ‘Lord Hungerford,’ rumbled the king into the shocked silence. His voice brought my father up short. He looked around him, as though dazed, and let the candlestick fall.

  ‘Your Majesty,’ he said with a deep bow. ‘I could not watch the clumsy fool insult you so without becoming enraged.’

  ‘It is well,’ nodded the king, and waved dismissal to the servant, who fled at once.

  The king invited my father to sit beside him, and engaged him in conversation. I watched them for a moment, Sir Walter inclining his head respectfully.

  It had been a dangerous moment, but it had passed. I wondered yet again whether my father really was insane. I blushed at what the other guests must think.

  Gradually the noise of conversation increased once more, until there was a lively buzz around the hall. The guests appeared to have put the incident out of their minds for the time being.

  Sir Walter rose to his feet and hammered on the table. My heart jumped into my mouth, but he seemed quite controlled again.

  ‘My lords, ladies, and gentlemen,’ called Sir Walter. ‘In a few moments a play will be performed for His Majesty’s entertainment. But first of all, His Majesty has graciously agreed to bestow his approval on the formal betrothal of my daughter, Eleanor.’

  My knees turned to water. No, please, no, not here in front of all these people. Not in front of the king.

  I became aware of an excited whispering in the background. Sir Walter had paused, no doubt for dramatic effect. He was looking around at his guests, obviously enjoying being the centre of attention. Maria prodded me in the side.

  ‘Go on,’ she hissed in my ear. ‘He’s waiting for you. Hurry!’

  I wasn’t sure that Sir Walter was waiting for me, but as I was about to argue with Maria, my father turned and held out his hand to me. An affectionate gesture, hardly suited to our feelings for each other. I pushed myself unsteadily to my feet. I was trembling uncontrollably and could scarcely summon either the courage or the strength to walk across the front of the hall. I could feel all the eyes of the guests boring into me, and felt my face flame.

  As I reached Sir Walter, he took my hand and patted it, as though he really was a loving father. I felt too numb to feel angry. My hands were cold as ice.

  I curtseyed deeply to the king, and then faced the hall, careful not to turn my back on His Majesty. I looked out over the assembled faces before me. Which old fright have you chosen for me this time? Will he be older and fatter than the king? The defiant thoughts gave me some courage, and stilled my trembling for a moment.

  ‘My precious daughter, Eleanor, is to be pledged to a member of one of our oldest and most respected families,’ announced Sir Walter. ‘The betrothal will unite the Hungerford and the Ashington families with even closer ties of friendship and alliance.’

  There was a murmur of interest from the guests at this point. They knew more than I, for the name meant nothing to me. I was not acquainted with any of that family to my knowledge. Who could it be?

  ‘Lord Stanton.’ My father bowed and a familiar figure rose from a nearby bench, stepped forward and bowed.

  My heart sank into my fashionable new shoes. I could hear applause around us, but I felt nothing but dread. Lord Stanton was standing before me. The very same man who had asked me for a kiss on the stairs. It was almost a greater shock than if it really had been some octogenarian with the gout and a wooden leg.

  I had heard only his title, not his family name, before. He was young and handsome, true enough. But I had already such a dislike for him. What was worse, I knew him to be scheming with my father against Mother. To become betrothed to him was insufferable. I fear I was glaring at him, because I saw an amused smile creep into his eyes. I averted my own hurriedly.

  Sir Walter was speaking. I heard nothing, my mind a turmoil of anger and fear.

  ‘Eleanor Hungerford,’ I heard the king say, and I struggled to gather my scattered wits. ‘Do you plight yourself to Philip Ashington, Viscount Stanton, and are you ready and willing to marry him in accordance with your father’s wishes?’

  What choice did I have?

  ‘Yes, Your Majesty,’ I murmured, dropping a respectful curtsey. I heard Stanton make some similar response. It was done. We were betrothed.

  ‘And when does the
wedding take place?’ asked the king.

  Sir Walter bowed. ‘In a month, sire, if it pleases you.’

  The king nodded his approval.

  So soon, I thought, panic rising in me again.

  The entire hall rose to toast us and wish us health and happiness. My heart was hammering with fear. It was like being married already. And if the wedding was planned for just a month away, I might almost as well be.

  Sir Walter put my hand in Lord Stanton’s, but Stanton dropped it almost immediately. It was the first thing he’d done since I met him that I was glad of.

  Worst of all we were seated side-by-side at the king’s table after the betrothal. We sat in silence, avoiding each other’s gaze, as the hall was rearranged for the play. I was painfully aware of his presence throughout the performance. I did not follow a word of the entertainment, though usually I would have been greatly amused by such a thing.

  A month. I had a month to somehow persuade Mother to run away with me. We had to escape from Farleigh, before I could be married off. I could see no other solution.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Dearest Mother,

  I am betrothed again, to a scheming demon of a man. We are to be married in a month. I am afraid. Mother, will you consider running away with me, if I can free you? I long to be with you.

  Alice tells me you did not let down your basket again last night. So they could not deliver my note or the food I sent. What is wrong? I will ride past the window every day till I see you. I pray you get this note.

  Eleanor x

  The inner court was crowded with men, horses, and dogs. I had saddled Arianna myself and hidden in a stable. I was waiting to join the hunt at the very last minute. My main reason was to avoid Lord Stanton who I had managed to ignore since our betrothal two days ago. But I also wanted to prevent my father catching sight of me just yet.

  It had been my original intention to stay behind, and see whether I could get to Mother somehow. I was worried sick about her. She had only once before failed to wave to me or accept notes. That was the time she had been poisoned. But that could not be the case now. Not when we sent her food. Surely she had not been foolish enough to accept anything from the chaplain? My stomach tied itself in a knot of fear at the thought. I longed to speak to her.