Jory smiled her secret smile. “I’m going to marry him.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. “I’ve quite made up my mind.”
At Westminster, the nobles assembled for the first session of Parliament. Before King Edward arrived, the barons gathered in groups to discuss war and taxes, both of which seemed inevitable. Guy de Beauchamp approached Lynx and John de Warenne, who were conveniently in the same place at the same time today.
“Gentlemen, I ask that you see me in private. There is a personal matter of importance I would like to discuss.”
“By all means, Warwick,” the earl said affably. “Tonight, after the session, come to my chamber. Lynx?”
Lynx nodded his assent.
“Thank you, Surrey.” Warwick greeted the constable and his sons and then nodded to the marshal. Bigod looked particularly irascible this morning, and Guy anticipated that the session would likely exacerbate tempers. The barons were intensely jealous of their rights, particularly when the king attempted to trample on their feudal privileges, and Warwick was no exception.
Within the hour Edward arrived, and with a minimum of pomp and ceremony the session began. John de Bohun, Earl of Hereford, in his capacity of Constable of England took the floor.
“On behalf of the barons, I have been asked to make a formal objection to the forty-shilling tax on wool. Such an amount is a heavy imposition and we respectfully request it be rescinded.”
Since Edward had called Parliament to get more money, not less, he refused the request. “Unfortunately, the Crown is in no position to rescind the wool tallage at this juncture. However, we pledge to address this tax at a future time when the defense of England and her territories has been accomplished.”
“Your Majesty, we the barons are collectively determined to prevent the Crown from levying further taxes at will.”
“I need money to fight the belligerent King of France!”
“We respectfully suggest you get it from the Church and the wealthy merchants.”
The king made a dramatic appeal. “I am going to meet danger on England’s behalf, and when I return, I will give you back all that has been taken from you.”
Roger Bigod, Earl of Norfolk and Marshal of England, got to his feet. “You intend to lead the army into Flanders, Your Majesty?”
“I do indeed. And you shall lead an army to recover Gascony.”
Bigod became truculent. “With you, Sire, I will gladly go. As belongs to me by my hereditary right, I will ride before you.”
Edward saw Bigod’s dour expression and his stiff back. He hung on to his temper and said in a silky tone, “But without me, you will of course go with the rest.”
“Gascony is five hundred miles farther south. I am not bound to go,” asserted Bigod. “And go, I will not!”
Edward Plantagenet’s temper flared. He drew himself up to his full height and stared down at the squat figure of the marshal. “By God, Sir Earl!” he cried. “You shall go or hang!”
“By God, Sir King!” Bigod spat. “I shall neither go nor hang!”
Though King Edward was in a white-hot rage, he did not explode into violence. He was in no position to quarrel with his baronage now that a French war was looming and Welsh rebellion was threatening to flare up on the home frontiers. Edward also knew that calling Parliament to raise money broke the stipulations of the Great Charter. The king swallowed his bile and excused the hereditary marshal from his duty, on condition that Bigod appoint a temporary substitute.
Warwick leaned close to his friend Gloucester. “That was a close battle of wills.”
“All told, the earls and barons here today have with them fifteen hundred men-at-arms.”
“That would be open rebellion.”
“Aye, and he’s not sure you or I would come down on his side.”
The king’s next opponent was the Archbishop of Canterbury. Edward and Winchelsey had a bitter debate on what the clergy should pay toward the war.
“I go to fight for the people as well as the Church of England.” He paused dramatically. “And if I do not return, crown my son as your king.”
At his father’s words, young Prince Edward broke into tears and his mood communicated itself to the archbishop, who immediately capitulated and raised his hands high to show his loyalty.
Warwick and Gloucester exchanged a glance of disgust that a prince of the realm would shame himself by weeping like a girl. The son was only a pale and pathetic shadow of his dominant sire.
During the recess, Roger Bigod approached his son-in-law, Lynx, and John de Warenne. After much back and forth over who would pay the lion’s share of the costs, the Earl of Surrey agreed to lead an army into Gascony to secure it along with Guienne, from the avaricious Philip of France.
When the session resumed, Bigod announced that he wished to nominate John de Warenne as temporary substitute marshal, if it pleased the king. Edward Plantagenet was more than pleased and immediately appointed Surrey as head general of the army that would go to Gascony.
That evening when the first day’s session of Parliament ended, a crowd had gathered outside Westminster Hall. Edward Plantagenet was shrewd enough to address the common people. With his son and heir on one side and Archbishop Winchelsey on the other, he made a speech aimed directly at their hearts. He told them how the French king was usurping territory that belonged to England and vowed to stop the fishermen of Normandy from stealing English livelihoods. The mass of people listened avidly, then cheered when their monarch ended his speech, showing their admiration for his bravery and pledging their complete loyalty.
After supper, Guy de Beauchamp made his way to the Westminster Palace chambers of John de Warenne. He was cynic enough to realize that ambition had prompted the Earl of Surrey to agree to take an army to Gascony, yet he thought more of him, rather than less, for that ambition. Warwick knew it would be expedient to get the matter of Lady Marjory settled without delay. After the two families formed a blood bond, he would not be averse to joining the de Warenne men when they went to fight in Gascony.
When Guy arrived, he was glad to see that Lynx was present.
“Come in, Warwick,” the earl invited. “That was quite a session today. Thirsty work—pour us some ale, Lynx.”
“Congratulations on your appointment, Surrey. Edward is lucky to get a general with your battle experience.” Guy took a chair and half emptied the tankard of ale. “I have come to propose a match between Lady Marjory and myself. I would be deeply honored to make her the Countess of Warwick and have reason to believe the lady is not averse to becoming my wife.”
“Lord Warwick, this is indeed a surprise,” Surrey replied. “I had no idea you were contemplating marriage.”
“I wasn’t,” Warwick said flatly, “until I met Lady Marjory.” He made eye contact with Lynx de Warenne. “Your sister has won my devotion. She is a prize beyond compare.”
“A much sought after prize,” Lynx said.
“We are aware of the great honor you bestow with this offer,” John said quickly. “A union between the de Warennes and the noble house of Warwick would be most advantageous and give us much to celebrate. Though we have other offers for Lady Marjory, naturally yours will take precedence. We will give you our highest consideration, and of course we will consult the lady herself regarding her choice of future husband.”
Warwick allowed himself to smile for the first time. “That is all I ask.” His heart lifted and he felt supremely happy. He knew he had made the right decision and vowed to cherish Jory. “Thank you, gentlemen. I look forward to negotiating the terms.”
After Guy de Beauchamp departed, Lynx said, “I had no idea you were such a skillful diplomat.”
“I learned diplomacy in a hell of a hurry when I negotiated the terms of your marriage with Roger Bigod, the irascible earl!”
“My hat is off to you, John. Sylvia’s father can be extremely truculent, as he was today with the king.”
“I had the advantage. It was Bigod who wanted you
for his daughter’s husband—not the other way around.”
Each morning when Jory awakened, she hoped that this would be the day that she would be summoned to Westminster Palace. After the third day of disappointment, she became apprehensive. Perhaps Warwick has changed his mind! Her fear of rejection made her feel extremely vulnerable. She twisted the ring on her finger, and when she glanced down at the sparkling emerald gem, it reassured her. No, no, Guy de Beauchamp loves me as much as I love him!
The Countess of Gloucester’s seamstress brought the gown she was making for Jory. “This is the loveliest material I’ve ever sewn, Lady Marjory, but it is so sheer and delicate. I took the liberty of making you a taffeta underdress to help show off its beauty. Would you like gathered sleeves?”
Jory donned the lustrous taffeta, then tried on the new gown. “Oh, it’s exquisite! You have done a superb job.” She twirled before the mirror, thrilled that the pale green silk floated about her like gossamer. “I think I’d like trailing sleeves, please.” I love it so much! This will be my wedding gown. She twirled about, then curtsied to her reflection. Marjory de Beauchamp, Countess of Warwick!
When morning turned into afternoon, Jory’s doubts crept back. As she laid out the clothes that Joanna would wear to dinner that night, she sought to reassure herself. “Is Parliament still in session? It’s been four days.”
“Yes, they’ll be at it for some time. Gilbert informs me that Father is pressing for money for the French wars, and extracting gold from the barons is like squeezing blood from stone.”
“Will the Earl of Gloucester go to fight in France?”
“Nay, Jory. The king relies on Gloucester to safeguard Wales. Gilbert had me in stitches last night. Apparently Roger Bigod and the king almost came to blows. The Earl of Norfolk refused to take the army to Gascony and my father threatened to hang him.”
Roger Bigod is Lynx’s father-in-law! “Did the marshal finally agree to do the king’s bidding?”
“Nay, the irascible old devil appointed your uncle, John de Warenne, to lead the army instead.”
No wonder I haven’t been summoned to Westminster. They have been completely occupied with preparing to fight a war in France!
John de Warenne and his nephew, Lynx, paid a late call on John de Bohun, Earl of Hereford. The Constable of England’s son Humphrey was with him when they arrived.
“Come in, Surrey; de Warenne. I’m delighted to see you both. Since Humphrey is a party to this match, I warrant he can be present while we negotiate?”
“By all means.” Both de Warennes took the chairs they were offered and accepted tankards of ale.
“We have come to advise you that we have received another offer for Lady Marjory. Without revealing his name, I feel it only fair to let you know that the noble is an Earl of the Realm.”
De Bohun’s brows drew together, and though Humphrey did not frown, the de Warennes saw that they had his undivided attention.
“Marriage with Humphrey will not make Lady Marjory a countess immediately,” Hereford conceded, “so let me offer a substantial incentive. I will deed my castle of Midhurst, Sussex, to my heir upon his marriage to Lady Marjory, with the stipulation that it become the legal property of the firstborn child of the union, should my son predecease me, God forbid.”
The de Warennes exchanged a guarded glance that was noncommittal and immediately John de Bohun added, “And of course it goes without saying that no dowry is necessary for a lady as highborn as Marjory de Warenne.”
“That is most generous, Hereford.” Lynx turned to Humphrey. “I warrant you are an excellent match for my sister. We will inform her of your offer and feel confident that Lady Marjory will happily assent to the union.”
The Earl of Surrey softened his flinty demeanor. “A blood bond between the de Bohun and de Warenne families will be advantageous for us all, and for England.”
As the pair returned to their own chambers in Westminster Palace, John said dryly, “Lady Marjory will assent to the union, happily or otherwise, only if she receives no other offers.”
“Jory is as elusive as quicksilver and more willful than a dozen men-at-arms. If given the choice, she will unswervingly pick the infamous Earl of Warwick.” Lynx let out a resigned breath. “I warrant you are right. The only way to keep her safe from making a rash decision is to keep silent about de Beauchamp’s offer.”
Chapter 8
Warwick bathed and took special care with his wardrobe. He had often been told that his pride was indelibly etched on his face, and as he glanced into the mirror, he could not deny it. He brushed an invisible speck from his black doublet. I am what I am, nothing more, nothing less.
As the fifth session of Parliament had drawn to a close, the Earl of Surrey had asked Guy de Beauchamp to join him after dinner. Warwick bid Brutus, “Stay!” He locked his door and his long strides soon brought him to John de Warenne’s chamber. His mood was high; he was actually looking forward to negotiating for Jory.
The first thing he noticed when he entered the room was that Lynx de Warenne was conspicuously absent. Why is Jory’s guardian negotiating without her brother? Do they disagree on terms or do they believe two earls of equal rank will deal better one-on-one?
Guy took a seat, stretching his long legs to the fire. He knew that a worthy negotiator would point out all the disadvantages to the union in order to gain the upper hand.
John sat down opposite him and cleared his throat. “The de Warennes are most honored by your offer for Lady Marjory,” Surrey began, “but I hope you’ll not object to my being blunt, Warwick.”
He’s going to bring up the death of my wives. “By all means, Surrey, let us speak plainly. I would have it no other way.”
“My niece is an eighteen-year-old maiden, while you are past thirty. In both age and experience you are worlds apart.”
“True. I cannot deny either my age or my experience; nor do I intend to.”
“You have been married twice before, which would make Lady Marjory the third Countess of Warwick.”
Surrey’s words set Guy’s teeth on edge. “You have a penchant for stating the obvious.”
“Forgive me,” Surrey said expansively. “All these objections could be overlooked if it were not for one glaring obstacle that can neither be ignored nor changed.”
Warwick remained silent. There were numerous obstacles from which Surrey could choose.
“You already have a son, Rickard. Any male issue from a union with Lady Marjory would not be the heir to Warwick.”
“Any child of mine, male or female, will be well provided with Warwick castles and land, as will their mother.” Christ, that sounded defensive!
“But not the title—not the Earldom of Warwick,” Surrey said.
“We are back to the obvious.” His voice was like silk and steel. “I have made certain that Lady Marjory is aware of all the disadvantages connected with marriage to me, Lord Surrey. I am content to abide by her wishes.”
“I am relieved to hear it, Warwick. Lady Marjory has accepted an offer from the Earl of Hereford’s heir, Humphrey de Bohun. The Constable of England’s son is close to her own age.”
Warwick rose to his feet, towering over Surrey. His black eyes blazed with accusation. “This is your fucking decision, not Jory’s!” He knew he should not lose his temper, the temper that was reputed to be blacker than the devil’s own, but in that moment Warwick could not control himself.
“You are quite mistaken. Lady Marjory has no desire to cause you pain, but her decision to wed Humphrey de Bohun is final. She asked me to tell you that she has quite made up her mind.”
Guy felt stunned, as if a stone wall had fallen on him. These were Jory’s own words and no others would have convinced him. A picture of her came to him full blown, tossing her silvery hair. Pride rose up in him. It was the only thing that stopped him from committing an act of savage violence upon John de Warenne.
Warwick masked his emotions instantly. “I shall abide by her wishes
.” He nodded curtly to Surrey and departed.
He unlocked his chamber door and slammed it shut with a force that broke its iron hinge. He emptied the wardrobe and threw everything into his bags. He clenched his jaw and his fists, lusting for vengeance, wanting to kill. His glance fell on Brutus, who sat quietly, watching him with knowing yellow eyes. Warwick went down on his knees and gathered the wolfhound in his arms. He rubbed his face in the wiry coat and, though his wound remained raw, he felt some of his black fury melt away.
“You know she has saved herself from a fate worse than death,” he told Brutus. “The full moon stole my senses and turned me into a lunatic.” His wolfhound nodded in agreement. Warwick laughed at his own folly.
He went to the barracks where his men were housed and found his lieutenant casting dice. “Pack up; we are leaving.”
“Tonight, my lord? I didn’t realize Parliament was over.”
“It’s over for me. We leave for Warwickshire in an hour.”
At long last, Jory received the summons from her uncle John to attend him at Westminster Palace. She was so excited that she changed her outfit three times before she was satisfied with her appearance. She wished to appear mature, dignified, and above all, confident that she would fit the role of Countess of Warwick.
The Earl of Surrey had sent a de Warenne escort to accompany her from Clerkenwell to Westminster, and she rode her new white palfrey with great pride. She arrived in the afternoon, and since her uncle was attending Parliament, she decided to visit with Lynx’s wife until the session was over.
“Marjory, you are looking very elegant today.”
“Thank you, Sylvia. You know why I’m here, I warrant. It’s a momentous occasion for me.”
“Indeed. An offer of marriage is very exciting. I remember exactly how I felt when it was my turn.”
“Are you enjoying Westminster?”
“Not really. I’m counting the days until Lynx and I can return to Hedingham. I am quite homesick.”