Richard wanted to refuse to see them but he thought better of that when he heard that they had not come on their own decision but had behind them the backing of the Parliament which did not like Richard’s attempt to dissolve them, nor did they appreciate his leaving Westminster for Eltham.

When Gloucester and the Bishop were received by the King, they intimated that they wished to be entirely alone with him, without even the presence of the Queen and certainly not de Vere.

Richard, feeling obliged to grant this request, faced his uncle and the Bishop and haughtily asked what they wanted.

‘We have come here to tell you, my lord, that the Parliament requires your presence at Westminster.’

‘And shall I tell you, my lord, that I prefer to be here.’

‘This is a State matter, my lord.’

‘It would be well to remember it.’

Gloucester made an impatient gesture.

‘Richard, I appeal to you as your uncle and one who has your welfare as deeply at heart as any. You cannot rule without your Parliament. Others have tried to do it and failed. I beg of you take heed.’

‘I have never been able to rule,’ cried Richard, ‘except once when the rebels were at our gates and the rest of you were cowering behind the walls of the Tower. Do you remember that, my lord?’

Gloucester did remember. That had been a terrifying time and he knew that he – like so many – had not distinguished himself by his bravery, whereas this boy – a stripling – had ridden out to face the mob. It was true. And because of that, great deeds had been expected of him. It had been his hour of glory – but alas a brief one.

Gloucester said: ‘I remember it well, my lord. Who will ever forget? But you cannot live for ever on one brief spell of glory. You have a country to rule and a country is not a mob of unlettered peasants. You must listen to your Parliament. You must return to Westminster. You must not give your ear to favourites. Suffolk must go. The Parliament is demanding that.’

‘It is not for them to demand.’

‘Richard, I would like to remind you of what befell your great-grandfather.’

‘I have heard it before.’

‘Yes, but have you ever thought how easily it could happen to you? Imagine him … in his chamber of terror. They say they used a red hot poker …’

‘Stop it!’ cried Richard. ‘I have heard it. I do not wish to hear it again.’

‘Then remember it only as an example of what can happen to Kings who do not please their people. We shall expect you in Westminster within the next few days.’

‘Get out from my sight!’ shouted Richard.

Gloucester and Arundel bowed and departed.

Both Robert and the Queen tried to divert Richard, but they could not. He kept thinking of his tragic great-grandfather. That night he was awakened by nightmares. He screamed in his sleep.

It was almost as though the ghost of his great-grandfather was at his bedside warning him.

The next day he returned to Westminster. In due course, Suffolk was impeached and fined. There was a list of charges against him, among them that he had received grants from the King to which he was not entitled and that he had misappropriated funds. They were clearly trumped up that he might be banished from his office.

Richard had given way, terrified by the ghost of his great-grandfather.


* * *

The Queen had been watching events with some trepidation. Like Richard she was very wary of Gloucester and she knew that until Richard came of age one or other of the uncles would always attempt to overshadow him.

One of her favourite attendants was a Bohemian girl whom she had brought with her when she came to England. The girl was clever and, although not strikingly good looking, her vivacity made her one of the most attractive girls at Court.

Anne certainly enjoyed chatting with her. Some said that she was low born. The trouble with some people at Court was that they thought anyone who was not royal was far beneath their notice. As Anne had said to Richard – and he had agreed with her whole-heartedly in this – it was not birth that made an interesting person but character.

Robert agreed with them. He was very amusing and he enjoyed imitating some of the more pompous of the people who inhabited the Court. They could be riotously gay together. Launcecrona, the Queen’s attractive attendant, was also a marvellous mimic and often Anne made her perform before the King and Robert.

Mimicry was rather a dangerous weapon. Robert said: ‘Do you know the best way to defeat your enemies? It is to ridicule them.’

There was a great deal in that. So they had to be careful, and being careful had resulted in the four of them being together alone which was frowned on; but Richard had taught Anne that some of the most exciting things in life were those of which others did not approve.

Lately Anne had noticed that Robert’s eyes were often on La Lancegrove as he called Launcecrona. She had seen their hands touch now and then; she had watched their lingering glances.

She thought it best to speak to Launcecrona and took the first opportunity.

‘You have not forgotten, my dear,’ she said, ‘that Robert de Vere is married.’

‘No, I had not forgotten it,’ answered Launcecrona.

‘And his wife happens to be a lady from a very noble family.’

‘I know. Robert says that the King was determined to honour him and gave him Philippa de Couci to show his affection for him.’

‘And the match was very beneficial to him. So Robert is irrevocably married.’

‘My lady,’ said Launcecrona, ‘is anything in this life irrevocable?’

‘Marriage with the royal family could well be,’ said Anne, and when she saw Launcecrona’s sly smile she continued to be uneasy.

It was not long after that when Launcecrona confided in the Queen that Robert was determined to put away his wife and marry her.

‘How can he possibly do so?’ asked the Queen.

‘He says there are ways. He thinks that the King will help him.’

‘The King!’

‘Yes, you know how Richard loves him.’

‘But on what grounds …’

‘Robert says that grounds can be found. They are rarely together, are they? He wants Richard to write to the Pope.’

Anne was horrified. She knew that if Richard did any such thing a great many people would be displeased. There was no reason whatsoever why Robert should divorce his wife except that he had fallen in love with another woman and wanted to marry her. She doubted whether that would be considered sufficient reason for divorce.

Richard talked to her about it.

‘Robert is quite determined,’ he said. ‘He talks of little else. La Lancegrove is very amusing. They suit each other very well.’

‘But what of his wife?’

‘He asked me to do what I can with the Pope.’

‘Richard … can you?’

‘I have always told Robert that I will do anything … just anything for him.’

‘I know, but you were not thinking of anything like this.’

‘I shall do what I can for him, Anne.’

She was astounded. She had not realised the extent of Richard’s devotion to his friend. Richard was watching her intently. ‘I want you to do something too, Anne.’

She waited, her heart beating faster.

‘I want you also to write to the Pope. I want you to tell him how important it is that there should be a dispensation, that Robert should marry Launcecrona.’

‘On what grounds?’ asked Anne.

‘We must think of something which makes it very necessary.’

For the first time since she had come to England Anne wanted to disagree with her husband.

Before she had been eager to love him and be loved by him. She had understood how easily his temper was aroused and had determined it never should be against her.

They had been so happy together. But now he was asking her to do something of which she could not approve.

For one thing they could hold nothing against Robert’s wife. It was true she and her husband saw little of each other but then it had been a marriage of convenience and as such had seemed satisfactory. If Robert had not fallen under the spell of the gay Bohemian there would never have been any question of divorce.

And they were drawing her into it. Little had she thought when the four of them had been so merry together that this would be the result.

They were all persuading her – Richard and the two lovers. Launcecrona was her attendant, her friend. She must do this for her.

Perhaps she was foolish. Perhaps it was a momentary weakness. Usually she liked to stand up for her own opinions. But they were all persuading her. ‘Come, Anne, what difference does it make to you? Your opinion will mean so much. Urban wants all the support he can get. He will want it from Bohemia as well as England.’

So she gave way.

How merry they were together then. Launcecrona and Robert danced round the apartment. Richard took her hand and they joined in. The four friends. Richard was contented. These were the people he loved best. He was happy with them; and he had so many cares.

It was not as though Philippa had loved her husband, Anne reasoned with herself, and Robert and Lancegrove were so happy together.

When it was known that Robert de Vere was seeking to put his wife away simply because he wanted another woman, the fury and resentment against him burned more fiercely than ever.

Was there nothing the King would not do for this man?

When the news reached Gloucester he grew pale with rage. This was an insult to his niece. How dared this fellow put aside a royal princess for the sake of a low-born Bohemian!