"Thank you, my lady. I will think of them."

"That is well. I believe your groom is waiting at the stables to take you to Pleshy."

The Abbess went into the convent and Mary made her way to the stables where her horse was ready for her.

In the solarium at Pleshy, Mary was embroidering an altar cloth for the chapel when her sister joined her. Eleanor was pregnant; she was hoping for a son; she already had one little girl about a year old and she thought herself rather ill used by life because her first-born had not been a son.

She sat beside Mary and said: "You look so happy. But you always do when you return from the convent. I believe you love that place."

"I do. It is very pleasant there and the nuns are so gentle. They are very good, you know, Eleanor."

"I do know it. There are no more worthy people in the world. Some of us have duties in other directions." She sighed as though she deplored having to be a great lady, go to Court, wear magnificent clothes, and would have counted it a great privilege if she had been allowed to put on the grey robe of the Poor Clares and devote herself to the needy.

Now that was too much for Mary to accept. Eleanor thoroughly enjoyed her worldly life, but she had been planning something for some time and Mary was beginning to understand what it was. Eleanor wanted her to go into a convent; in fact she was trying to persuade her to. Her next words confirmed this.

"Oh Mary, I am beginning to think you are more fortunate than I.I do believe God is giving you a chance to lead a very worthy life."

"You mean go into a convent? Become a nun?"

"I see you are full of joy at the thought."

"No, Eleanor. That is not entirely true. I do think the nuns are good and I should like to be as they are .. "

"Well then, sister, is that not what I said?"

"But there are other joys in the world. When I play with little Anne I think how fortunate you are to have her and then there is the new one who is coming. I do love the peace of the convent but I should love to be a mother too ... to have babies like Anne."

"What nonsense!" said Eleanor sharply. "Having a baby is by no means pleasant I can assure you."

"I know it is an ordeal but the reward is great. Sometimes I think the most wonderful thing in the world must be to have a child."

"You are speaking of matters of which you know nothing," said Eleanor sharply. "I think you should begin to consider going into the convent. I could speak to the Abbess."

"Eleanor, have you already spoken to the Abbess?"

"We have talked of your future, of course."

"And our mother?"

"She has not given an opinion but I am sure that she would be happy for you to take up the holy life"

"I think she would respect my wishes in that" said Mary with spirit.

Eleanor opened her eyes very wide. "But is that not what we all wish to do?" she demanded.

"If that is so" replied Mary gravely, "it is for me to decide and I have some time yet to think about my future."

"Of a certainty you have" retorted Eleanor. "But I think you would be very happy to feel you had settled it."

Mary was silent. Eleanor would be very happy, she was sure, if it was settled that her young sister should become a nun.

Thomas Woodstock, Earl of Buckingham, rode out to Pleshy to say good-bye to his wife before he left for France. He was not displeased to be going for he was of an adventurous nature and had the Plantagenet desire to do battle. He was fresh from the triumph he had enjoyed when just before Christmas he had captured eight Spanish ships off Brest. Egotistical, impulsive, inclined to recklessness, Thomas yearned to be in the centre of events.

Eleanor understood well. She shared his ambitions. She greeted him warmly and immediately commanded that the finest dinner should be served and the minstrels give of their best. She had always insisted that they should have the newest songs from Court and as they were not far from London and Westminster she usually succeeded in her endeavours.

Eleanor had married into royalty and she could not forget it nor allow anyone else to.

It was a good marriage from the point of view of both husband and wife. Thomas enjoyed her ambition and approval in all his endeavours and it gratified him that she should be so conscious of the royalty he had bestowed on her.

In their apartments he told her of his successes at sea— avoiding that part in which the squadron of which he had been in charge had been scattered by a storm.

"I am going out to aid the Duke of Brittany" he explained. "He is handing over the Castle of Brest to us for as long as the war shall last. But the French will take it unless I get there in time to hold it."

"You will do that," she said. "I trust Richard is grateful for all you do for him."

"Grateful! He takes everything as his right and knows little of affairs. He's nothing but a boy. A boy King of England I"

"There should have been a Regency," said Eleanor.

"Ah my dear, you speak truth there."

"Though Lancaster would have been in command you may be sure."

"He would have tried to be. I should have stopped that."

Eleanor nodded sagely. There was little love between the two brothers. John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster was as ambitious as his brother. Both bitterly resented the fact that they had not been the eldest of Edward's sons. It would have been different if the Black Prince had lived. He would have stepped naturally onto the throne and there would have been no question of his right to be there. But his son, this young boy —delicate and effeminate—was quite unsuited to the destiny thrust upon him; and it was particularly galling that it should be so when Edward the Third had had other sons than the Black Prince. John of Gaunt and Thomas of Woodstock believed that they were more suited to take the crown. As for the third brother, Edmund of Langley, he was not ambitious, preferring to live quietly in the country. But John and Thomas were constantly jostling for power and it was galling to both of them to have to accept their puny nephew as their King.

Thomas was a man who brooded on his wrongs; he could never forget nor forgive a slight; and when John of Gaunt had put forward his own son Henry of Bolingbroke for the Order of the Garter and their late father Edward the Third had bestowed it on him, Thomas had been consumed by hatred of his brother—for there had been two candidates for the Order, Thomas himself and Henry of Bolingbroke and to get it for his son, John of Gaunt had had to push aside his brother.

No, that was something which would never be forgiven.

"Well, my dear," he said, "my stay here is a brief one. By the time I return our little one will be born."

"You shall have news as soon as the child arrives," Eleanor promised. "How I hope that this time it will be a boy!"

"If not, there is plenty of time for us. Take care of yourself, my dear. And Mary ... has she given any indication yet?"

"I am hopeful that she will soon do so. She is happy in the convent. But the Abbess thinks she should wait awhile and not make a hasty decision."

"The Abbess should be about her own business."

"It may be that she would consider Mary's taking her vows as her business."

"Once she has taken them, yes. The girl must be persuaded."

"I am doing my best. She is young yet, and if we can only persuade her before ..."

Eleanor frowned and Thomas said: "You are thinking of fortune hunters. My dear wife, none could marry her without consulting us."

"You have forgotten your brother. He is her guardian."

"He is occupied with other matters. He spends a great deal of time with his mistress. I wonder what it is this Catherine Swynford has to cast such a spell on him. There is no doubt that he is bewitched by the woman."

"You think she is a witch ..."

Thomas shrugged his shoulders. "If she had been she would have made him marry her doubtless. He knew her when Blanche died. But he married Constanza, did he not?"

"Because he hoped for the crown of Castile."

"Yes, John has matters to occupy him. I doubt he gives much thought to little Mary de Bohun."

"Then it is really just a matter of persuading Mary."

"The day will come," prophesied Thomas, "when she enters her convent and then everything will be ours, my dear."

His eyes glistened at the thought. So did Eleanor's.

She would persuade Mary in time. She had always persuaded Mary.

Thomas left for France. Mary returned to her lessons at the convent. She had become very much aware of everything around her, and she was beginning to believe that the peace of the convent would be very desirable.

John of Gaunt had come to Arundel Castle where he was being entertained by his good friends, the Earl and Countess. John had recently returned from Scotland where he had negotiated peace with the Scots and he had taken with him his eldest son Henry of Bolingbroke. Henry was some fourteen years of age, a good-looking sturdy boy and his father was proud of him.

Soon, he had thought, I must find a suitable bride for him. It would be someone who could bring him wealth. That was necessary. The richer a man was the more power he had. His brother Thomas had done very well for himself with the Bohun heiress. Those Bohun girls would be two of the richest in the kingdom. It was small wonder that Thomas had become very smug since his marriage.

John was very well aware of the extent of the Bohun fortune, the younger girl being his ward. The King had bestowed this gift on him—for gift it was, as the wardship carried with it a grant of five thousand marks and Richard had given it to him as compensation for some payments which were due to him. Thomas had been displeased about that. John smiled grimly at the memory of Thomas's disquiet. No doubt he did not want his brother to know too much about the de Bohun inheritance. Moreover it gave John a command over Mary's future.