"I am a de Clare," Gloucester pointed out.
Richard of Cornwall looked at him with affection, and slowly shook his head. "That is your name and rank, but you are a Planta-genet by blood. You are my real son, my firstborn, not my stepson. Why do you suppose your mother, my beloved Isabella, named you Richard?"
Gloucester was stunned, and yet it explained many things in his childhood. Royal Plantagenet blood gave him his towering pride and his
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temper. "Why did you keep this a secret?" he demanded, his voice hoarse with emotion.
"Your mother was wed to Gilbert de Clare; I could not bring shame down upon her, or you, Richard. They would have called you a royal bastard. When de Clare died in battle, you inherited his title and became the Earl of Gloucester." Richard poured wine for both of them and offered his son a silent toast.
"I have orders from the king to set up an inner council comprised of you, myself, and Justiciar Bohun," Richard of Cornwall continued. "We will summon a select number of loyal barons. We must close the city of London to Simon de Montfort and his traitorous adherents to prevent Parliament being called. If de Montfort does not back down, it will mean war."
"What about Lord Edward?"
"It will be our job to wean him away from Simon de Montfort. I've already told him that Henry will name Edmund his heir, and the queen has brought his bride, Princess Eleanora, to tempt him back into the fold."
"Threats and bribes will have little effect on Edward, from what I've seen of him. He won't come to heel like an obedient hound."
"He has a shrewd head on his shoulders. He needs gold. I am having him followed. Today he will find himself locked out of the city, separated from his men who are billeted in the Tower. When he sees that many of the barons will remain loyal to the crown, and when Henry arrives with his three hundred French mercenaries, Edward will weigh the odds. I am counting on his insatiable Plantagenet ambition."
"You are forgetting de Montfort's magnetic personality and equally relendess ambition."
"Not for a moment, Richard. Sooner or later Edward will realize that they cannot both rule."
******************
When Lord Edward and Sir Rodger rode from the lower ward of Windsor, they did not notice a horseman who waited in the shadow of the Curfew Tower. "We'll go straight to Durham House," Edward said decisively. "Then we'll get Harry, if he's still breathing. I'll leave Westminster until last. Undoubtedly that is where the queen has taken
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Eleanora, and I intend to take my wife back to Windsor, where she belongs."
As they traveled the now familiar road, Rodger became aware of hoofbeats behind them in the distance. As they approached the village of Westminster the sound grew closer. "I think we're being followed," he warned Edward. They deliberately changed direction and headed toward the river, concealing themselves behind the old palace wall to await their pursuer.
Edward grabbed the horse's bridle while de Leyburn dragged its rider from the saddle and held his dagger to the wretch's throat. "Talk, while you still have breath."
The small, wiry man, dwarfed by his two assailants, wet himself from fear.
"Are you one of de Montfort's spies?" Edward demanded.
When he felt the blood trickle down his neck, the man nodded eagerly. The horse Edward held smelled the blood and suddenly reared up in a frenzy of fear, flailing its hooves above their heads. In a flash the man dove into the Thames and disappeared.
"I should have killed the son of a bitch while I had him," Rod cursed, sheathing his dagger and quieting his own and Edward's mounts while the prince soothed the terrified horse. "We should have had our squires at our backs."
"We'll take the nag to Durham House and see if it came from there. Bones of Christ, doesn't de Montfort trust me?"
"Simon de Montfort is too shrewd to trust you, my lord."
When they arrived at Durham House, a groom took charge of the three mounts, bowing low to Lord Edward. "Did this horse come from your stables?" Edward demanded.
"I am not sure, Lord Edward."
"You're a bloody groom here, don't you recognize your own horseflesh?"
"Forgive me, Lord Edward, there are so many new horses from Kenilworth, it is difficult for me to identify them all."
"Even the nicking grooms are trained to be noncommittal," Edward remarked.
When Earl Simon came out to greet his royal guest, Lord Edward
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VIRGINIA HENLEY
made no mention of the disturbing incident. They followed their host to Durham's hall, where Lady Eleanor offered them food and drink. She kissed Edward and asked Rodger how Rosamond fared.
"I left her in high spirits, my lady."
Eleanor laughed at his carefully chosen words, likening his new bride to a filly. "Then I take it she is not broken to the bridle yet, and is still trying to take the bit between her teeth."
Rod bestowed a kiss upon the hand of the Demoiselle, who said, "Did you not bring Rosamond, Sir Rodger?"
"Darling," her mother said, "the men are here to discuss grave matters of politics. We will withdraw and let them get to their business."
Rod smiled at Demi. "I will carry a letter to Rosamond."
Demi dimpled at him. "Thank you, my lord."
When they were alone, Simon wasted no time. "What did Richard of Cornwall tell you?" he asked Edward.
"He said that there would be no Parliament, but I told him in no uncertain terms that you were adamant about it, that you were the undisputed leader of the barons, and that I had added my signature to the Provisions of Oxford."
"And his response?"
"He told me my father had asked the Pope for absolution, but I told him the Provisions would unite England, not divide her."
"Richard kept the whole truth from you. Henry has obtained his Bull of Absolution and is on his way home to resume royal power. He could be at Dover now."
Edward thought fleetingly of his brother Edmund, who was in charge of Dover Castle. "When the king arrives, I will talk with him. I am sure I can persuade him that the Provisions will unite the country. The last thing my father wants is civil war. He has always backed down when the barons have challenged him, and with my voice added to the barons', I'm sure he will listen to reason."
"And if he does not, Edward?"
The prince looked Simon de Montfort in the eye. "Then it will be time for England to be ruled by another. One who will never be weak. England is my inheritance."
Rodger de Leyburn held his breath, wishing Edward had not
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shown his hand, but the moment passed, as Earl Simon said, "I am a realist; the king's return will split the barons. I am making a list of those I can count on."
Edward and Rodger read the list. It was headed by Simon de Montfort, Earl of Leicester, followed by Marshal Bigod, Earl of Norfolk; John de Warenne, Earl of Surrey; John de Vescy, Earl of Northumberland; the two warlike Bishops of Ely and Worcester, and three Marcher barons, Clifford, Hay, and Montgomery.
"You've forgotten Richard of Gloucester and Harry," Edward said.
"Have I?" Simon asked cynically. "I have learned not to count on those related to royalty. They change their coats too often."
"Is that why you had me followed?" Edward flared, stung at the implication.
"I did no such thing! But mayhap I should have!"
Rodger intervened immediately, lest they come to blows. "It was my fault; I let the cur get away. No doubt he is in the pay of Richard of Cornwall."
Lady Eleanor stood poised on the threshold. "Richard? Is my brother Richard in London?"
"He is at Westminster; I spoke with him yesterday," Edward said.
Eleanor turned accusing eyes upon her husband. "You deliberately kept this from me, Simon? "
"Damn you, Edward, can you not control your tongue?" the earl said. He turned to face Eleanor. "If I had told you Richard was here, you would have gone running to Westminster Palace. I don't need you
meddling in this matter!"
She drew herself up to her full height of just over five feet. "How dare you treat me like a nothing?" she demanded regally, her royal blood asserting itself. Eleanor was a princess, but spoke as if she were empress of the universe.
"Plantagenets think they rule the world; their blood pride borders on madness. I am always stunned at the convenient way you forget I am master in my own house, madam."
Eleanor, about to deliver a cutting retort, saw her husband's face harden, and changed her mind. She lowered her lashes to veil her anger. "Edward will think we are savages."
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"I too am a Plantagenet," Edward said, "quite used to battles royal."
"Shall we get back to the list?" Rodger de Leyburn interjected. "The Marches, the West Country, and all about Kenilworth can be counted upon."
Earl Simon nodded. "Northampton also; my son Simon holds the castle. The Cinque Ports are an unknown quantity, but they are vital, and must be secured for command of the sea. When we hold Parliament, I shall call for a council of war!"
"Nay!" Edward protested. "I will talk to the king first, before you declare war. I will negotiate and mayhap he will concede."
Simon de Montfort was furious. "No appeasement! The time for concessions and compromise is over! There can be only one leader, one man who issues the orders. I am that man."
Edward's fury now matched Simon's. As the two men stared each other down, neither willing to bend to the other, Edward suddenly realized that de Montfort had no intention of putting him on the throne. He reined in his temper with difficulty. "Parliament will decide."
"Aye," Earl Simon conceded, "the barons are on their way here."
******************
As prince and steward rode from Durham's courtyard, Edward said, "He has a deep-rooted hatred of the Plantagenets. I thought it was love for England that drove him, but it is hatred too."
"He does not hate you, my lord," Rodger protested.
"He does not love me either."
"Earl Simon recognizes your abilities in warfare, in leadership; he sees your energy, your shrewdness, your ambition, and knows you will soon be his equal. All you lack are his many years of experience. Mayhap he envies you your youth, and fears it too."
"If he makes an enemy of me, he needs to fear me!"
When they reached Ludgate, the western gate in London's wall, they found it closed. "Ho there! Open the gate!" Edward shouted to the guards.
"The gates are closed. Entrance into the city is forbidden."
"By whose orders?" Edward demanded, noticing the guards were heavily armed.
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"By orders of the king!"
"I am Edward Plantagenet, open the gates!" he commanded.
"The gates into London are closed against the Earl of Leicester, Lord Edward, or any of their adherents," came the grim reply.
"They wear Bohun's device; they are the justiciar's men," Rodger observed. He glanced along London's wall and saw that armed guards were posted atop it to enforce the orders.
Edward's horse curvetted, sensing its master's anger. "Come, we'll try the next gate, where I will not announce who I am."
"All know you, Edward. There is only one six-foot-four giant with a golden head and beard."
They found Newgate, Aldersgate, and Cripple Gate heavily guarded and were bluntly refused admission. They skirted the wall to Moore Gate and watched in fury and frustration as every farm wagon seeking entry was searched. They spurred their mounts around the walled city toward the Tower, refusing to believe London was closed to them.
The Tower of London was sealed tighter than a tomb, its regular guards reinforced by Bohun's men, and it dawned on the two young men that they were effectively cut off from their men-at-arms, Harry of Al-maine, and even their squires. Edward cursed everyone from the justiciar to the king, then for good measure cursed the saints in heaven.
"Durham House or Westminster?" Rodger asked.
"Westminster! De Montfort's spies will take him the news."
Their horses were lathered by the time the pair clattered into the old palace yard. They turned them over to a groom with orders to cool them down before they were watered.
Lord Edward, with his steward close upon his heels, went to seek out Richard of Cornwall. They could not locate him immediately, but curbed their impatience, knowing how vast Westminster Palace was. Edward decided to seek the queen in the royal apartments. His blood was up, and in this mood, he knew none would dare gainsay him access to his wife, Eleanora.
The royal apartments were deserted; not even a servant or a lady-in-waiting could be found within the chambers. Edward cursed to vent his frustration; he could have sworn he would find his mother and his wife at Westminster. He quit the apartments and strode to his own,
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asking a servant where everyone was. When he received a blank stare, he ordered him to fetch ale.
The two men heard the outer chamber door open, followed by soft footsteps and the rustle of feminine garments. Edward turned toward the door with an eager, expectant look on his face, which faded immediately.
"Chéri, 'ow did you find out so quickly that I was here? You are very impetuous, Edward; I only arrived this morning."
"Alyce, what the devil are you doing here?" he demanded ungraciously, totally forgetting the plans they'd made for a rendezvous.
"Bringing your ale, my lord, to quench your raging thirst."
Rod wondered how she could make even ale sound erotic.
"Where is everyone? Where is Richard of Cornwall? And the queen, where is my mother? "
In a blood-red gown with her jet hair falling about her slim shoulders like black silk, Alyce looked bewitching. Slowly her mouth curved into a sensual smile. She had thought Edward was at Windsor with his childlike bride, but obviously not. "So many questions, so much information I 'ave thatyou would like. You will 'ave to pry it out of me, chéri. What inducements do you 'ave to loosen my tongue?" Alyce ran the tip of her tongue playfully about her bright red lips.
"Would a beating be inducement enough?" Edward threatened.
"Oooh, perhaps if your rod is stout enough," Alyce teased.
Edward looked at Rodger over her head, begging for help. Rodger shrugged, then inclined his head toward the prince's bedchamber, and Edward took his steward's meaning immediately. The prince curbed his anger with difficulty and led Alyce into the inner chamber.
Sixteen
Rosamond helped Nan unpack Sir Rodger's trunks and hang his clothes in the huge dressing room wardrobe. The scent of sandalwood stole to her as her hands caressed the rich materials of his garments.
"He's a fine figure of a man; his doublets need no shoulder pads," Nan mused as she stole a glance at her lady's face. She had overheard the newlyweds exchange sharp words late last night.
Rosamond ignored Nan's curiosity. "Since the queen is not in residence today, this is a golden opportunity for me to see the royal apartments. Would you like to come with me, Nan? "
"Nay, servants carry tales, and I have no business up there. As the steward's wife, you have a ready excuse. I shall unpack all your fine sheets and linen, my lady."
Rosamond spent the next two hours touring not only the king and queen's apartments, but also Lord Edward's and Princess Eleanora's. All were the last word in luxury. Lady Eleanor de Montfort had been right: Windsor Castle was a magnificent residence indeed. Rosamond put on a cloak and ventured from the new tower. She visited the chapel, then found a stillroom with bunches of herbs hanging from its rafters.
She crossed the Middle Ward and went through the Norman Gateway with its twin towers, toward the river where she had seen the royal barge yesterday. She hadn't gone far when she came face-to-face with Griffin and Owen. The squires, soaking wet and looking like river rats, bowed low. "Lady Rosamond," they said in unison.
She stared at them, more than puzzled. "Where have you been?"
"We came upriver by watercraft, my lady," Griffin offere
d.
"You look as if you had swum from London!"
"We did take a dip in the river, my lady," Griffin admitted.
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"And did Sir Rodger and Lord Edward swim with you?" Rosamond's eyebrows arched with disbelief.
Griffin nodded, while Owen shook his head. From her question, the squires inferred that Rodger and Edward were not at Windsor as they had hoped.
"No doubt you swam to rid yourselves of the stink of wine and wenches!" Rosamond's words told them she was piqued, but also indicated that Lord Edward and Rodger had returned to Windsor last night.
Griffin had been trained to be closemouthed without seeming curt. There was no way he would divulge a whisper of the trouble Rodger and Lord Edward were in as a result of their alliance with Simon de Montfort. Early this morning, when the Welsh squires had awakened at the Tower and found themselves imprisoned because all gates were closed and guarded against de Montfort adherents, they had slipped into the Thames and swum across to the other side, and from there had taken a boat to Windsor.
Since there was nothing he could do to aid Sir Rodger's larger problem, Griffin decided to see what he could do about alleviating his master's domestic trouble. He lowered his voice to a confidential tone. "It was Sir Rodger's duty as steward to provide the men with food and drink to celebrate the Welsh victory and New Year's, but neither Lord Edward nor Sir Rodger stayed for the revels, Lady Rosamond. After a cup of wine, they left us to it and returned to Windsor. Our heads were a bit foggy this morning, but the river cleared them."
"I see," Rosamond said, mollified. "You'll catch your deaths; get out of those wet clothes immediately, you foolish young devils." She led them back to the new tower with a lighter heart. Why in the world hadn't Rodger explained things? She decided he had far too much pride to excuse himself to a woman, especially if that woman was his wife. The corners of her mouth rose in a smile. When Rodger returned tonight, she would make up for the tart tongue and cold shoulder she had given him the night before.