Beatrix of Clare Read online

  II

  RICHARD OF GLOUCESTER

  But the morrow brought no maid, nor a fortnight of morrows--she hadvanished; and seek as he might at Windsor or through the Tower he couldnot find her. Had he been privileged to inquire the quest would havebeen ended by a word--but she herself had closed his lips to questions.

  Then the mighty Edward died, and all was confusion in the Court; andwhat with the funeral, the goings and the comings, the plottings andthe intrigues, De Lacy was in a maze. The boy King was at Ludlow withRivers, and it was Nobility against Queen and Woodville until he camefor his crowning. And in the turmoil De Lacy was forced to cease, forthe nonce, the pursuit of ruddy tresses and grey eyes, and choose wherehe would stand. And presently that choice sent him riding into theNorth--bearing a message to the man in distant Pontefract, upon whom,at that moment, all England was waiting and who, as yet, had made nomove, Richard of Gloucester.

  The day was far spent, and before a fireplace in his private apartmentsRichard sat alone, in heavy meditation. The pale, clean-shaven,youthful face, with its beautiful mouth and straight Norman nose, andthe short, slender figure in its mantle and doublet of black velvetfurred with ermine, rich under tunic of white satin, tight-fitting hoseof silk, and dark brown hair hanging bushy to the shoulders, would havebeen almost effeminate but for the massively majestic forehead and thefierce black eyes--brilliant, compelling, stern, proud--that flashedforth the mighty soul within.

  Although he had just passed his thirtieth year, yet his fame was aswide as the domain of chivalry, and his name a thing to conjure with inEngland. Born in an age when almost as children men of rank andstation were called upon to take their sires' place, Richard had beenfamed for his wisdom and statecraft before the years when the period ofyouth is now presumed to begin. At the age of eighteen he had led theflower of the Yorkist army at the great battles of Barnet andTewkesbury, and not the dauntless Edward himself, then in the heyday ofhis prowess, was more to be feared than the slight boy who swept withinconceivable fury through the Lancastrian line, carrying death on hislance-point and making the Boar of Gloucester forever famous in Englishheraldry. And since then his hauberk had scarce been off his back, andwhile his royal brother was dallying in a life of indulgence amid thedissipations of his Court, the brave and resolute Richard was leadinghis armies, administering his governments, and preserving order on theMarches of the Border.

  Presently there was a sharp knock on the door and a page entered.

  "Well?" demanded the Duke abruptly.

  "May it please you, my lord," said the boy; "a messenger of importancewho desires immediate audience."

  Richard frowned slightly.

  "Whose badge does he wear?" he asked.

  "No one's, my lord, but the fashion of his armor savors of the Court.He bade me announce him as Sir Aymer de Lacy."

  "The name, boy, is better recommendation than any fashion. Admit him."

  De Lacy crossed to the center of the apartment with easy grace, andafter a deep obeisance stood erect and silent facing the Duke, who eyedhim critically. A trifle over the average height and rather slender,and clad in complete mail except for the bascinet which he carried inhis hand, there was something in his appearance and bearing thatimpressed even the warlike Richard. His dark hair hung in curls to hisgorget. His hauberk of polished steel was but partially concealed bythe jupon of azure silk emblazoned with a silver stag trippant; hiscuissarts and greaves glistened in the firelight, and his longsollerets bore on their heels the golden spurs of his rank. Around hiswaist was a broad belt wrought in gold, and from it, almost in front,hung a great two-handed sword whose point reached to within a fewinches of the floor.

  "You are welcome," said Gloucester. "A De Lacy should ever find aready greeting at Pontefract. Of what branch of the family are you?"

  "One far removed from that which built this fortress, most noble Duke,"returned the Knight, with a peculiarly soft accent. "My own ancestorwas but distantly connected with the last great Earl of Lincoln whomthe First Edward loved so well."

  "I do not recall your name among those who fought for either York orLancaster. Did your family wear the White Rose or the Red?"

  "Neither," said De Lacy. "Providence removed my sire ere the fraybegan aright and when I was but a child in arms. When Your Grace wonfame at Tewkesbury I had but turned my thirteenth year."

  "Where is your family seat?"

  "At Gaillard Castle in the shire of Leicester, close by the RiverWeak--or at least it stood there when last I saw it. It is ten longyears since I crossed its drawbridge and not twelve months of my lifehave been spent within its walls."

  "Your accent smacks of a Southern sun," said the Duke.

  "My mother was of a French house, and to her own land she took me whenmy father died;" and, observing the Duke glance at his spurs, he added:"It was from France's Constable that I received the accolade."

  "Then right well did you deserve it; St. Pol gave no unearned honors."

  "I was favored much beyond my deserts," De Lacy replied, although hisface flushed at a compliment from the renowned Gloucester.

  "Your modesty but proves your merit," returned the Duke. . . "And nowyour message. From whom come you?"

  "From the Duke of Buckingham, my lord," said De Lacy; and the keen lookthat accompanied the words did not escape the Prince. But De Lacy didnot know the man before whom he stood, else would he have wasted noenergy in any such attempt. As well try to read the visage of agranite cliff as to discover the thoughts of Richard Plantagenet fromthe expression of his face. And if the royal Duke were in aughtconcerned as to the communication of the powerful Buckingham, there wasno evidence of it in his voice or in the eminently courteous andappropriate question as he instantly responded:

  "How did you leave His Grace and where?"

  "He was most hearty when we parted at Gloucester; he for his castle ofBrecknock and I for Pontefract."

  "He had been in London?"

  "Yes, my lord, since before King Edward's demise."

  "Then are his letters very welcome."

  "Your pardon, sir," said De Lacy, "but I bear no letters;" and asRichard regarded him in sharp interrogation he added: "My message is byword of mouth."

  "And why," said the Duke in the same calm tone he had employedthroughout the conversation, "should I credit your story, seeing that Ineither know you nor recall your silver trippant stag among the presentdevices of our land."

  "My bearing," returned De Lacy tranquilly, "comes to me from mymother's family, of which she was the heiress, and on Englishbattlefield it has never shone. And unless this ring attest theauthority of my message it must be unsaid," and drawing from his fingera broad gold band, in which was set a great flat emerald with a swanexquisitely cut on its face, he handed it to the Duke.

  Richard examined it for a moment, then returned it with a smile.

  "You are sufficiently accredited," he said. "I will hear your message.What said Stafford?"

  "The Duke of Buckingham," replied Aymer, "sends to the Duke ofGloucester his most humble greeting and his very sincere condolenceupon the death of Your Grace's great brother and sire."

  "Pass over the formalities, Sir Aymer," interrupted the Duke curtly."It was scarce for them you rode from London to Pontefract."

  Aymer bowed. "Buckingham's message was in these words: 'Tell the Dukeof Gloucester to hasten to London without delay. I have conferred withthe Lords Howard, Hastings, and Stanley, and we are of the one mindthat he must be Lord Protector. Tell him we pledge to him our wholesupport if he will give us his countenance in this crucial struggleagainst the Woodvilles.'"

  "Did he say nothing as to the present status of the situation?"inquired Gloucester quietly. "I am far from Court and know little ofits happenings."

  "With them, my lord, I am fully acquainted," said De Lacy, "both frommy own observation and by the Duke himself."

  "How stands the matter, then?"

  "Rather favorable to the Queen's
faction than otherwise. The King'scoronation has been fixed for the first Lord's Day of the coming monthand His Majesty is to be escorted from Ludlow by two thousand men. TheMarquis of Dorset has seized the treasure in the Tower and Sir EdwardWoodville has been tampering with the navy, and methinks not withoutresult. The Queen and the whole family are catering to the populaceand spare no effort to win their favor. Only action sharp and suddenwill enable the Barons to prevail."

  For a moment Gloucester made no response, but sat with his head bentupon his bosom, as was his habit when in thought. Presently he said:

  "How do you know that the King's escort will number two thousand?"

  "The Council so fixed it, and very much against the wishes of theQueen."

  "She wanted more, I doubt not," said the Duke meditatively.

  "She long held that less than five thousand would not be fitting thedignity of a King."

  Gloucester looked up with a trace of a smile around his eyes.

  "Will the Earl of Rivers accompany his nephew?" he asked.

  "It was so reported to His Grace of Buckingham; and further, also, thatthey would not start from Ludlow until the feast of St. George hadpassed."

  "Did Stafford advise no plan in case I fell in with his desires?"

  "None. The lords will follow whatever course you fix. All that theyurge is haste."

  "How long does Buckingham remain at Brecknock?"

  "Until he receive word from you--or failing in that, until there be buttime sufficient to reach London for the coronation."

  "Was it his purpose that you should carry my answer?"

  "Nay, my lord Duke," said De Lacy. "Here ends my mission forBuckingham. It was but as friend for friend that I bore this message.I am not of his household nor was it his business that brought me here."

  "What brought you to Pontefract then, Sir Knight?" said Richardsternly. "As Buckingham's messenger you have received due honor; thataside, your name alone commends you."

  "I sought Pontefract," De Lacy replied, "for the single purpose oftendering my sword to the Duke of Gloucester, hoping in his service tobrighten the dimmed lustre of my House."

  Not for an instant did the searching eyes of Richard leave the youngKnight's face.

  "Why do you prefer the Boar of Gloucester to the Stafford Knot?Buckingham is most puissant."

  "A De Lacy, my lord," answered Aymer proudly, "follows none butPlantagenet."

  "Bravely spoken," said Gloucester, suddenly dropping his stern air,"and worthy of the great name you bear. I accept your sword. Nay,kneel not, sir; Richard Plantagenet deems himself most fortunate tohave you at his side."

  At that moment the arras was drawn aside and a young and slender womanentered. Her gown was black, unrelieved by any color, save the girdleof gold; her face was almost flawless in its symmetry; her complexionwas of a wondrous whiteness; and her eyes, of the deepest blue, softand melting, and shaded by lashes long and heavy, were of the sort thatbespeak the utmost confidence and know no guile. She hesitated as shesaw De Lacy and was about to withdraw when the Duke glanced around.

  "Nay, sweetheart," said he, rising and going toward her; "do notretire. . . . Sir Aymer de Lacy, I present you to the Duchess ofGloucester."

  De Lacy advanced and sinking upon one knee touched his lips to the handshe extended to him.

  "Surely, Sir Knight," she said, in a voice whose sweetness struck evenhis Southern-bred ear, "a De Lacy should ever be welcome in the hallsof Pontefract."

  "Your words, most gracious lady," answered Aymer, "are almost thoseused by my lord, the Duke, and to a wanderer's heart they are verygrateful."

  "You are an errant, then; a Sir Guy or Sir Lancelot," said the Duchess.

  "Nay. Only a poor and simple Knight whose highest honor is that he mayhenceforth follow the banner of your great husband."

  "Then must hauberk sit easy as velvet doublet or I know not my lord,"and she smiled at Richard.

  "Do not," said he, "give to Sir Aymer the notion that he has nothingbut hard blows before him--although, indeed, he rode hither on scarce apeaceful mission, since he bears from Stafford and the Nobility thetender of the Protectorship and the insistence that I proceed to Londonwithout delay."

  As he spoke the face of the Duchess suddenly became grave, and steppingswiftly to his side she put her hand upon his arm.

  "You will not go, Richard?" she begged.

  "Why, sweetheart, what ails you? Why should a journey to London and apossible exchange of blows alarm you?"

  "It is not the journey, dear," she answered. "Many a time have youtaken it; and, for the blows, did I not speed you to the Scottish war?Yet I have a foreboding--nay, smile not, my lord!--that upon yourcourse in this matter hangs not only your own fate, but the fate ofPlantagenet as well. Accept it not," taking his hand and speaking withdeep entreaty; "the Protectorship can add nothing to Richard ofGloucester, and it may work not only your doom but that of the greatHouse of Anjou."

  "Nay, Anne, you are ill, surely," said Richard, putting his arm aroundher. "What has put such uncanny notions into your mind?"

  "I do not know; yet I implore you to humor me in this. . . . You havenot already despatched an answer to Buckingham?" she suddenly demanded.

  "No--not yet," then turned sharply to De Lacy. "It seems, Sir Aymer,that you are to be admitted to my confidence as well as to Stafford's.So be it, for I trust you. Yet, believe me, it is well sometimes toforget."

  De Lacy bowed low, saying simply, "I have forgotten."

  "Forgive me, Richard," said the Duchess. "My heart so ruled my headthat I quite lost myself."

  The Duke took her hand and pressed it affectionately. "Think no morenow of the matter; we will consider it to-morrow."

  "And you will make no decision until then?"

  "None, by St. Paul!" and striking the bell he ordered the page tosummon the Duchess' lady-in-waiting.

  In a moment she appeared: a slender figure in dark blue velvet, withruddy tresses and deep grey eyes--the maid of Windsor Forest.

  De Lacy caught his breath and stood staring, like one bereft of sense,until the dropping of the arras hid her from his sight. Then he sawGloucester regarding him with a smile.

  "You are not the first," he observed, "nor, I warrant, will you be thelast."

  "Her name?" said the Knight so eagerly the Duke smiled again.

  "She is Beatrix de Beaumont, in her own right Countess of Clare, andsave our own dear spouse no sweeter woman lives."

  "In truth do I believe it; else has God sent a plague upon the Noblesof England.'"

  "If disappointed love and blasted hopes can be so reckoned," saidRichard with a shrug, "then does many a fair lord suffer from thedisease. See that you do not become affected also."

  "Nay, my lord Duke," replied De Lacy; "I know better than to allow apoor Knight's mind to dwell upon the charms of a great heiress--and shethe Countess of Clare."

  "Pardieu!" said Gloucester; "be not so humble. Your birth is equal toher own; it was only for your peace of mind I cautioned you."