Jean Plaidy - The Red Rose of Anjou

‘In the meantime there will be a child. There must...and why should there not be? They are both young and healthy. The King dotes on her and she is fond of the King. It will come. It is because they are over anxious that they fail.’

Alice laid her hand on his arm. ‘We must be watchful of York.’

Her husband nodded.

It was a few days later when he came back to her obviously in very high spirits.

‘News, my love,’ he said. ‘I think you will find it good.’

She looked at him expectantly.

‘York is to be banished to Ireland.’

‘Banished?’

‘Well, it is tantamount to that. He has been appointed to be the King’s Lieutenant there for ten years. That will put him out of the picture for a while.’

‘He must be furious.’

‘He is. But what can he do? He cannot say: I want to stay in England and make an attempt on the crown, now can he? He must submit with a good grace. I have an idea that he will delay his departure for as long as he can. Never mind. He must go to Ireland.’

‘Henry agreed?’

‘I only had to tell him it was a good thing and Margaret helped as I had previously explained everything to her.’

‘It seems that one must go to the Queen before the King.’

‘Well, that is true. Margaret means to rule, and Henry is only too pleased to let someone else take over the role that he never really wanted.’

‘It is very good news indeed.’

‘There is more to come. There are some weighty titles coming our way. I already have the Earldom of Pembroke.’

‘From Gloucester’s estate?’ added Alice quietly.

‘Well, yes, and not only that but Chamberlain and Constable of Dover and Lord Warden of the Cinque Ports. I am to be Admiral of England as well. What do you think of that?’

‘I am overwhelmed and so must you be with so many honours.’

‘And in addition, my lady Marchioness, how would you like to become a Duchess?’

‘So...that as well.’

‘Behold the Duke of Suffolk.’

‘The King must be very pleased with you. He must love you well.’

‘The King,’ said the new Duke of Suffolk, ‘and the Queen as well.’

Henry was happier than he had ever been. He was delighted with his marriage. He believed he was surrounded by good ministers headed by the Duke of Suffolk, but he was grieved that his great-uncle the Cardinal had died. That had been a sadness and Margaret had felt it deeply. She had dearly loved the old man and she was very touched that he had left her all the fine scarlet damask and the bed which he had had made especially for her on her visits to Grafton.

‘I shall always treasure them,’ she said, but she wept bitterly and was sad every time she saw them.

She was recovering from her grief though, and she was interested in Henry’s plans for building. They visited the work frequently. He had enjoyed showing Margaret the College of the Blessed Mary of Eton beside Windsor. He had explained to her how interesting it had been studying the plans for the building and what a boon it would be to scholars. They would go on from the college to the one he was building at Cambridge. He was going to call it College Royal or King’s College to Our Lady and St. Nicholas.

Margaret was very interested. She said she would very much like to found a college herself.

Indeed she should, said Henry, and he thought how much pleasanter this was than the perpetual negotiations and plans for war.

Together they went to Cambridge and there Margaret met a certain Andrew Doket who was the rector of St. Botolph's there. He was very gratified by the interest of the King and Queen because he had already laid the foundation stones and he was seeking help in bringing about the building of a college. It was his greatest ambition but a lack of funds was a tremendous handicap to progress, but in view of royal interest his hopes were soaring and since Margaret wished to found a college why should she not work in conjunction with Doket?

He had intended to call the college The College of St. Bernard as before he had become rector of St. Botolph’s he had been the principal of the St. Bernard Hostel. But he was ready enough to change the name in order to get the college built and it was decided that it should be called Queen’s College of St. Margaret and St. Bernard.

Thus Margaret had a project to equal that of the King and they spent many happy hours glowing with enthusiasm, discussing plans and visiting sites. They had literature in common too. Margaret was very fond of Boccaccio’s work and she and Henry read this together. Then there was the hunt to occupy her. Henry did not follow her quite so enthusiastically in this but Margaret loved to ride for after a few hours over her books she found the chase invigorating. She loved to ride ahead of the rest of the party, to be the first in at the kill. That was something Henry liked to avoid, for bloodshed, even of animals, was abhorrent to him.

When Margaret discovered that certain of the courtiers had been hunting in the royal forest she immediately gave orders that the game should be preserved absolutely for her use. Henry had never given such orders and the fact that Margaret did so without consulting him indicated her imperious nature. Why should she have consulted Henry? she would have asked. He would agree to give her what she wanted. And that was the truth. Henry was living in a state of blissful happiness. He had a beautiful Queen whom he loved and who loved him. The foolish war with France was petering out. He had made peace by his marriage and Margaret and he with their books and music and founding their colleges were happy.

They had no child as yet and that was a source of regret; but it would come. Margaret was very young and he was not old.

When their child was born, they would have reached perfection.

He deeply regretted the death of the Cardinal but then as though to balance that, Gloucester was dead also. York was to go to Ireland—although he was taking a long time to set out. Everything could be safely left in the capable hands of the Duke of Suffolk and Henry need only concern himself with his happy life.

And it was a happy time. He and Margaret made a tour of the country’s monasteries. They went to the Austin Friary at Lynn and as far north as Durham.

In the midst of all these mutual pleasures Margaret received letters from France; among them was one from her father. There had been great delays, he complained, and he begged her for the good of England, he said, as well as for that of France, to urge the surrender of Maine to the King of France.

Margaret thought of the matter a great deal. She knew that the English were clinging to Maine as one of the most important of their possessions in France. They should give it up. It belonged to France and if it were returned to that country her father would profit, for it would be restored to the House of Anjou.

She wrote to her father. I will do your pleasure as much as lies in my power as I have done already.’

She and Henry had had a happy day. They had been to the colleges and had indulged in a little friendly rivalry which delighted Henry.

She was so amiable, so amusing and so very beautiful. He was singularly blessed in his marriage, he told himself.

When they were in their apartment she sat at his feet with a book on her lap. She would read aloud to him; but after reading for a while she laid aside the book and said: ‘Oh, I wish we could have absolute peace. I think if I could have a child and peace between our countries I would know perfect happiness.’

‘The child will come,’ said Henry. ‘And peace...well, there is no active war at this time.’

‘We have a truce!’ she cried. ‘What is a truce? It means that war can break out at any moment.’

‘Yes,’ he agreed solemnly.

‘And it could be ended at once.’

Henry shook his head.

‘Yes,’ she insisted. ‘Maine. That is all that stands between us and an end to this war.’

‘If I thought...’

‘Yes?’ she asked eagerly. ‘If you thought that giving up Maine would end the war you would give it up?’

‘Yes,’ he cried. ‘Yes, yes.’

She rose and coming close to him put her arms round his neck.

‘Then it is done,’ she said.

He shook his head. ‘The Parliament...’

‘The Parliament. You are the King. Oh Henry, I cannot bear it when you let others rule you. You are the King. It is for you to say.’

‘Yes, it is for me to say,’ he repeated.

She brought pen and paper to him. ‘Henry, write this. Say that you will give up Maine...for peace.’

Henry hesitated but only for a moment. She was so earnest and so beautiful. She was clever too. Far more so than he was. And he did want to please her.

Moreover he desperately wanted peace.

She was triumphant. It was done. The King had agreed to surrender Maine.

* * *

So Maine was to be surrendered and Edmund Beaufort, Duke of Somerset and nephew of the Cardinal, was in France with Adam Moleyns, Bishop of Chichester, to arrange peace terms.

The King of France was not eager to make peace unless he achieved what he wanted and he knew that it was impossible to get the English to agree to that. What he wanted was to clear the English out of France and to make them give up their claim to the French crown forever. They would not be ready to concede that—but the surrender of Maine was a very good piece of good fortune to be getting on with. All that had been agreed to was an extension of the peace for two years.