Young Henry’s glance slid from me to his beloved books. ‘Do I have to,
‘Yes, Henry. You do.’ I would not be swayed.
‘I would rather stay here. My lord of Warwick says that he will come and—’
I did not wait to hear what Richard might be planning. ‘You will come with me, Henry. I am your mother and my wish takes precedence over that of my lord of Warwick on this occasion.’
‘You could go, and I could stay here.’
‘No, I could not.’ No point in explaining why. I remained firm. ‘It will be good for you to be seen by your people, Henry. It is your duty as King to be seen.’
Which did the trick. I informed Warwick and Gloucester by a slow-riding courier that the King would not be at Windsor but at the Queen Dowager’s dower properties. I listed them, and we were on our way the following day, before either would hear of my decision. Not that they could complain. I simply took the King, servants, entourage and outriders—his household in effect—in full regal panoply, with me. We made a fine show as we visited Hertford, then on to Waltham and Wallingford.
And finally there was Leeds Castle, which Young Henry anticipated with joy and I with a residue of fear. Leeds, the beautiful scene of my abortive proposal of marriage, where I had been so full of joy for what the future might hold. All ground to dust beneath my feet. But this had to be done. I needed to make this visit to test the state of my heart.
I was cold with anxiety as we crossed the bridge, past the gatehouse into the inner courtyard. My feelings for Edmund had seemed strong enough to last a lifetime. Would there not be some shimmer of memory here to assail me? I took a deep breath and prepared to have my confidence shattered.
Did Edmund tread on my hem of my gown? No, he did not. Did his voice echo in the corridors and audience chamber? Hardly at all. My heart continued to beat with a slow and steady purpose, and I laughed aloud.
I was cured. How cruel the heart, to lead a woman into thinking she loved a man when quite clearly she did not. I did not need love, I did not need marriage. I felt as if I had cast off an old, worn winter cloak to allow the summer breeze to refresh my skin. Oh, yes, I was cured.
We returned to Windsor where I acknowledged Warwick’s caustic stare and consigned to the flames Gloucester’s letter of admonition that I should have asked permission from the Lord Protector if I intended to jaunt about the country. I settled into a period of calm, soothing to mind and body, with nothing to disturb the serenity of the pool in which I existed. This was what I wanted, was it not? So why was it that the summer weeks dragged themselves past with wearisome slowness?
Distant voices, heavy in the humid air, snatched at our attention from the direction of the river. Male voices, loud, crude in tone, sliced through with laughter and groans and—I suspected from the words that carried to us—much rude blasphemy. Whatever the occasion, it was one of raucous enjoyment and nothing to instil fear into us. Besides, who would harm us, walking as we were within shouting distance of the castle?
With my damsels in close attendance, I continued along our chosen path to the bend in the Thames where it was pleasant to sit and catch a breeze, for we had settled into a period of intense heat. The voices became more distinct, more strident, so that I caught a grin passing between our two armed guards and a meeting of glances between Meg and Cecily.
‘What is it?’ I asked.
‘Some of the servants, I expect, my lady.’ Beatrice, fanning herself with a branch of leaves plucked from an over-hanging ash tree, was unmoved by the commotion. ‘The men swim in the river when it is hot.’ Her lip curled at the prospect of such wanton male behaviour. ‘You’d think they had nothing better to do.’
Splashing and bellowing continued ahead.
‘Perhaps we should turn back,’ I heard, sotto voce.
‘Perhaps we should go on!’
‘It might not be seemly…’
I had seen the gleam in their eyes, and understood since there was little to entertain them at Windsor. Or—the thought struck me as a burst of invective assaulted my ears—were they truly trying to protect my royal dignity from the sight of naked servants cavorting in the Thames? I would not be so tender, and I continued to walk steadily.
‘We will go on. I have seen a man unclothed before. I will not faint at the sight.’
We came to the riverbank, where it curved beside a willow with a vast spread of shallow roots, perfect for a shady resting place—and stopped.
‘There! As I said. Nothing better to do with their time!’ Beatrice looked down her elegant nose. ‘I still think we should go back.’
‘Not yet.’ I raised my hand to still them.
