Treason

by Meredith Whitford

  Hours, we spent that time, and it was very late when at last we lay quietly together, her head on my shoulder, talking as lovers always do of nothing and everything. I think I told her my entire life story in that drowsy time. Of hers, I learnt that she had grown up in Kent, the daughter of a wealthy merchant, a knight who, like my own father, had fought for the Duke of York and then for Edward at Mortimer’s Cross and Towton. She had been married at fifteen to a friend of her father’s, who had died after six months of marriage. (No wonder, I thought, if she dealt with him as she did with me.)

  ‘Have you children?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you love your husband?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Lovers?’

  ‘Not while I was married.’

  ‘Since you came to Court?’

  She gave me a look I couldn’t understand, then said shortly, ‘None of your business.’

  ‘Isn’t it? Now?

  ‘No.’

  ‘But I thought... wanted... I love you.’

  ‘Don’t say that.’ I didn’t know what I had done to spoil things, but she moved away and began to climb out of bed.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Oh, because, because, because.’ Her back to me she swiftly plaited up her hair then went to her ‘tiring-table to wash. I lay there, watching her put on her clothes. From the depths of my eight months’ experience I wondered if I would ever understand women. With words and with her body Innogen had told me what pleasure I had given her, yet now she was treating me like just another man. One of many. Perhaps I was. The idea thrust me furiously out of bed. Clumsy with anger, I started to dress, determined to storm out of the house without another word. But I was used to a servant helping me, and I got into an undignified tangle trying to fasten the points at the back of my doublet. Innogen’s fingers closed over mine.

  ‘Let me do it.’

  ‘You need not bother.’

  ‘Don’t sulk.’

  ‘I am not sulking!’

  ‘Good, because I need you to lace my gown for me.’

  I wanted to refuse, but when, neatly fastened, I turned to her she was smiling anxiously up at me. I melted. ‘Turn around, then.’

  Knotting the laces, hooking the gown, I kissed the back of her neck and let my hands slide down to clasp her shoulders. She leaned back against me, her hands covering mine. ‘Tell me,’ I whispered against her ear, ‘tell me what I did wrong. Because I want this to happen again. And not only out of lust.’

  ‘So do I. Martin, look, you pleasured me beautifully. And it was more than lust. But don’t talk of love.’ She turned to face me, lifting my hands to her lips. ‘How old are you?’

  ‘Nearly seventeen.’

  ‘Well, then. I am nearly nineteen and I have been married; I enjoy my freedom. Leave it at that, for now.’

  ‘But I may come here again? Will there be other times?’

  ‘Of course. But now it’s growing late; time for you to go.’

  I felt as bereft as if we had parted forever. I didn’t like the feeling; no one should have such a hold over me. Lying awake that night I decided: never again. She could go to her other lovers, I would have no more of her.

  ~~~

  Like most decisions taken in the small hours, this one failed the test of day. Innogen and I met at dinner, she smiled at me, and that night I was at her house again, in her bed, learning more of the exquisite pleasure. And so it went on, all that spring. She obsessed me. I knew – well, suspected – she had other lovers, but then so did I, thinking jealousy might bind her to me. It didn’t. She was loving, sweet, entertaining, clever, generous with her body, she was fond of me; but with that I had to be content. She taught me more than the refinements of sexual pleasure; it had never occurred to me before that a woman could be someone to talk to and discuss matters other than bed. But Innogen had been well educated, she read widely, spoke several languages, and she did not believe politics and war were entirely men’s business.

  ‘Why should they be? Women cannot fight, but doesn’t war affect us too? We send our men off to battle, and look after them when they return – if they return. In war we lose our homes, we suffer rape – what would you have us do, leave it all to you men while we get on with our sewing? Shouldn’t we want to understand why we suffer these things? For instance, tell me about these disturbances in the north, all these Robin Hoods, whoever they are.’

  I had not, yet, learnt. ‘Oh, don’t worry, it will come to nothing. Give me a kiss.’

  Sweetly obedient she rolled over and put her mouth on mine, but instead of kissing me she said, thus against my mouth, ‘Robin of Redesdale – Robin of Holderness – Robin Amend-All... Yorkshire, Lancashire – insurrection and rebellion – horrible portents throughout the country. Armies riding through the air, a pregnant woman hearing the child weeping in her womb – the skies raining blood – talk of doom... To the ignorant, sure signs that the Antichrist is abroad. Think, Martin. Who is behind it? Warwick? Clarence?’

  ‘Probably.’

  ‘Certainly!’

  ‘You know?’

  Leaning on her elbows to look down into my face she said, ‘I hear things. Though it is not hard to work out, is it? Do they want to tempt the king into battle?’

  ‘They wouldn’t dare.’ Though in truth I was none so sure.

  ‘Not in their own names, perhaps. But should one of these Robins not, for once, be so efficiently put down by Lord Northumberland... I mean should a rebel army happen to spring up and engage the King in battle... Wouldn’t it suit Warwick if the King were killed? Or defeated? Somehow compromised?’

  ‘Well, yes. And I know the King is concerned.’

  ‘Concerned!’ She rolled over and sat up, bundling her hair out of the way. ‘I should hope so! Preparing for action, I hope even more.’

  ‘He is. He has ordered troops and equipment. Richard has asked the King if we can go on campaign with him, but he refuses.’

  ‘Well, whether or not he takes you, the King should go into action soon. And tell your handsome friend Gloucester that his brother Clarence is negotiating with the Papal Legate for a dispensation to marry Isabel Warwick.’

  ‘Do you think he’s handsome? – a dispensation!’ I sat bolt upright, staring at her. ‘But the King has forbidden the marriage!’

  ‘Exactly. What are they, second cousins? The papal court is finding that is not too close a consanguinity.’

  ‘How do you know this?’

  ‘I hear things from friends. And friends of friends. My husband had trade dealings in Europe, my father too. I inherited that business and I hear things that way. And I have land here and there. Warwick’s brother, the Archbishop, helped with bribing the papal agent, of course.’

  ‘Of course.’ I knew the King didn’t trust his cousin George Neville, Archbishop of York, although the distrust was partly dislike.

  ‘Tell the King.’

  ‘Is that why I’m here? For you to tell me things for the King’s ear?’

  ‘You should tell the King what I’ve said, but you’re here for quite other things.’ She demonstrated some of them, and we ended, as usual, in a tangle of red hair, sweat-stuck flesh, and kisses so tender I could have sworn she loved me.

  ~~~

  That was in early June, and the next day the King sent for Richard and me. Thinking it meant he had decided to take us with him on campaign, we frisked delightedly into his private audience chamber.

  ‘Afternoon, Ned!’ Richard began to sit down.

  ‘We did not give you permission to be seated.’

  Warily Richard unfolded himself. ‘I ask Your Grace’s pardon.’

  ‘Though of course,’ Edward went on with oily sympathy, ‘you must both long to sit down – you must be so tired.’

  We glanced at each other –??? ‘Sire?’

  ‘Swiving everything with a heartbeat as you’ve been doing – exhausting. Is there a woman at Court, nay, in all London, who hasn’t been to bed with one or other, o
r both, of you? Far be it from me to expect two young, healthy boys to be chaste, but there are such things as discretion and moderation.’ Folding his hands piously he said, ‘And fornication is a sin.’

  ‘You’d know,’ Richard said under his breath. Not quietly enough, however.

  ‘Which of you made that most impertinent remark?’

  ‘I did, Sire,’ we both said.

  ‘Shut up, Martin, I know it was my clever-dick brother.’ He smiled at the pun. Briefly. Picking up a sheet of paper from the table he said, ‘My lord duke, Master Ogleby of London comes to me complaining that you have seduced his daughter and made her pregnant. What have you to say to that?’

  ‘That I thought I had dealt with the matter.’

  Whatever Edward had expected, this crisp response caught him off-guard. ‘Your meaning?’

  Reluctantly, because he was too fastidious to enjoy speaking of private matters, Richard said, ‘Sire, Linnet Ogleby told me she is pregnant and that the child is mine. She said she was to go to an aunt near Windsor. I gave her money for her expenses, and promised to acknowledge the child and provide for its maintenance. I thought the matter dealt with.’

  ‘You fascinate me. Go on. Why then is the outraged father coming to me?’

  ‘Sire – Master Ogleby invited me to dine at his London house. He is a member of the Grocer’s Guild and has ambitions to be an alderman. Also he wants some import licence to expand his business. I told him that whether he becomes an alderman is a matter for the City. The licence, I said I would speak to you about; and I did so, if you remember.’ Edward frowned, then shrugged. ‘The night I dined with him was foul, wet and cold; he invited me to stay at his house that night. I did so. And I found his daughter in my bed.’

  ‘And thought it impolite to refuse the hospitable thought for your comfort?’

  Risking a smile, Richard said, ‘It was more that she is very pretty, and was stark naked; and eager. Thought played little part in it.’

  ‘Yes, but the man’s a pander – his own daughter – ’

  ‘I’ve never taken advantage of an unwilling girl. She was not coerced. Or innocent. Whether her father knew of it, or planned it, I don’t know. But it seems he’s trying to take advantage of the situation.’

  ‘As so many people do. Hmm. Sure the child’s yours?’

  ‘Who can ever be? But it’s likely. The dates fit.’

  ‘I see.’ Dipping his pen in the inkwell, Edward made a note on the paper. ‘I think Master Ogleby can whistle for his import licence. I’m sorry, Richard; I should have trusted you to deal with the matter.

  ‘Now, you, Master Robsart.’ I jumped; I had thought I was only there to take a general warning. ‘Her Grace the Queen tells me she has had cause to dismiss one of her maids of honour for unchastity and loose living. I refer, of course, to Mistress Shaxper.’

  ‘No!’ I cried. ‘That is unfair!’

  ‘Am I to tell the Queen she is wrong?’

  ‘I – no – that is – ’

  ‘Oh, Martin,’ the King said, not unkindly. ‘The entire Court knows of your affair with the young lady. And I’m afraid you’re not the only one. She has made herself notorious.’

  ‘Edward, he’s in love with her,’ Richard cut in.

  ‘I see. Martin, I’m sorry, but there it is. The girl must go. Let’s be blunt: people say many things against the Queen, but no one can say she is anything but chaste and virtuous. And she expects the same of the women who serve her.’

  ‘I know, sire. And no one has ever said otherwise of the Queen in my hearing, nor would I permit them to. But Innogen is – is – I love her and I want to marry her.’

  Edward sighed. ‘Oh, Martin. You’re sixteen. It would be a grim world if we all married the first person we fell in love with.’ I was watching him intently, and I saw something extraordinary: for a second his face changed, and a very young, confused, desperate man looked at me as if for help. Then in a heart’s beat he was himself again. ‘Sixteen is too young. An arranged marriage is one thing, but love? Wait until you’re older. And I would not let you marry Mistress Shaxper.’

  ‘Why not?’ I cried, regardless of protocol.

  ‘Because you can do much better.’

  ‘I could not. She could. She is rich, educated, of birth, she has land; I’ve got nothing, I’m no one.’

  Grimly hanging on to his patience the King said, ‘Martin, dear boy, listen. I have known you since you were eight, and when I made you my ward and put you into Richard’s household I said I would always take care of you. So listen to a little worldly wisdom. You are nobly born, you are my kinsman, you are Richard’s dearest friend, and my mother’s and my friend and protégé. Your father gave his life trying to save my father and brother. We are in your debt. Keep on serving Richard as you have, and serve me, and you will rise high. When you’re older I will knight you, and I have had it in mind for some time to restore your old family barony. An earldom will not be out of your reach. You will have lands, money, and above all, influence. You will be able to look as high as you like for a wife.’

  ‘I’ll still want Innogen Shaxper.’

  The kindly friend turned back into the King. ‘Master Robsart, you will marry whom I tell you, when I tell you. I am sure you are aware it is illegal for a ward to marry without his guardian’s consent, so do not think to defy me. You and the girl have been indiscreet and she has been dismissed from Court. Let the matter end there.’

  ‘Has she already gone!’

  ‘Yes. To her home. Kent, isn’t it?’

  ‘And I have your word she’s safe?’ Well, that was pushing my luck, and Edward frowned, but he said quite gently,

  ‘Of course she is! She hasn’t been banished from the kingdom, merely sent away from Court. And no, you may not see her. And don’t go making it into a tragic romance, you’re not Pyramus and Thisbe. Don’t do anything stupid.’ He was running out of patience and, probably, of time, but he went on, ‘I know you’re longing to throw it in my teeth that I’ve been licentious and an unfaithful husband. But there is a fine line between hypocrisy and giving younger men the benefit of one’s experience. Be a little more discreet, both of you, and find something else to do.’

  ‘You don’t give us anything to do!’ Richard burst out. ‘A few ceremonial duties, dancing attendance at banquets and receptions. And once we’ve done our arms practice and played tennis, what is there to do? Edward, I’ve begged you to let us come on campaign with you – ’

  ‘No.’

  For a moment they stared at each other, exactly alike in their stubborn anger. Richard went on more quietly, ‘Give us the experience to make our loyalty useful. I’m nearly seventeen, and at that age you and Edmund were soldiers, you had served with our father and – ’

  ‘ – and Edmund died. At seventeen. And I loved him more dearly than anyone in the world, except you. And I will not lose you too, Dickon, at seventeen.’ His use of the old family nickname was both plea and warning. Richard bowed stiffly. ‘You may go,’ Edward said, sounding exhausted.

  ‘Your Grace,’ I said, ‘one moment, please – I have some information for you.’ I repeated what Innogen had told me about Clarence seeking to marry Isabel.

  ‘I’ve forbidden the marriage. George wouldn’t dare. Where had you this news?’ I told him, and his face cleared. ‘Women’s gossip!’

  ‘It is more than that, sire. She receives information from Europe – ’

  ‘Merchants’ gossip, repeated by a woman. I’m sure you mean honestly by telling me, but I cannot believe it.’

  ‘I think you should,’ Richard said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because George is hell-bent on marrying Isabel. He loves her and – ’

  It was like setting flame to kindling. ‘Love!’ Edward roared. ‘Why is that all I hear these days? Love, love, love – what’s that to do with anything? George wants to marry Isabel because she’s an heiress, and because he likes making mischief and Warwick helps him do it. I’ll dea
l with George. Now, good-day to you both; I’m busy.’

  Richard had the Plantagenet temper, brief but awesome. He threw the pages and other squires out of his rooms and prowled, swearing vividly. If he’d had a tail he would have lashed it. ‘Treats me like a child!’ he finished, flinging himself into a chair.

  ‘He loved Edmund and – ’

  ‘Oh yes, yes, I know. God knows I’d feel the same, in his place. But when, when, is he going to give me something useful to do! Raising the county levies, oh yes, dear little boy riding at the head of his troops, so sweet, takes it all so seriously, bless him, the king’s baby brother, splendid little chap, our little mascot, now run along back to the school-room. Poncing about waiting on every stray Burgundian who decides to honour us with a visit, waiting on the Queen... He won’t declare me of age, though he did it for George at sixteen, and he won’t take Warwick seriously, or George. And he should. Christ!’ He drank off the cup of wine I’d poured, and held it out for more. ‘Sorry about Innogen, Martin.’

  ‘So am I. What does it feel like to know you’re going to be a father?’

  ‘Strange. Be different, I suppose, if I loved her.’

  Someone knocked on the door. At the top of his voice and in the coarsest terms Richard told the visitor to go away.

  ‘Charming,’ said the King, striding in. ‘Mother would be so proud.’

  Not rising, Richard said, ‘Had I known it was Your Grace – ’

  ‘Come off your high horse. All right, you two, I’ve changed my mind. You can come with me on campaign.’

  ‘You mean it?’ Richard leapt up.

  ‘Yes. Bring your fellow-fornicator here, and young Percy and your other squires, anyone you can find to ride with you. Armed, mounted, equipped. Got any money?’

  ‘Not much.’

  ‘Nor have I at present. Do your best. We ride out after Mass and fast-break tomorrow morning, nine of the clock. We’ll head northeast to begin with, I have to see what this nonsense between the Pastons and Norfolk and Suffolk is about, I don’t need feuds over inheritances. Then to Fotheringhay, Mother is there and the Queen will join us. After that, we’ll see. I hope it will be enough simply to show myself in strength around the country, stamp out all these uprisings and these Robins. Nothing will come of it, of course, but it’s a hole through which every malcontent and Lancastrian can scurry into the country to make trouble. If Warwick’s behind it, it’s time he gets a lesson. So, nine o’clock tomorrow. Be ready, or you stay at home.’