First of the Tudors

This was not exactly what I wanted to hear but at least there would be no immediate betrothal. I would be able to enjoy dancing with Margaret, knowing that if Edmund were to press the king on an imminent marriage he would get nowhere.

As I followed the steps of a stately gavotte, I found it hard to take my eyes off my partner’s slender form. Even in the rather severe grey gown they had dressed her in that day she still managed to remind me of a graceful falcon gliding between tall trees as she wound her way between the other dancers in the set. The more I saw of Margaret Beaufort the more she resembled the Honoured Lady of Arthurian chivalry and the more I saw her as a potential wife, one day. There seemed to emanate from her a noble grace, which entirely outshone the lush temptations offered by other ladies on the floor.

* * *

A few days later we had each received a written summons to attend the Royal Council. ‘I cannot contemplate sitting around a table with a bunch of greybeards discussing the king’s finances,’ Edmund grumbled. ‘I must look to my own affairs and that means inspecting the meagre estates as yet granted to me. I will leave tomorrow for Leicestershire, as planned.’

‘It is our first summons from the king, Edmund – an honour. He will expect us to attend.’ Despite my warning I understood his wish to visit his new estates. I, too, wanted to go to Wales but a series of disputes over lordships connected to the Pembroke earldom were hampering my possession of many of its manors. I had to wait for the Council to settle these.

‘You have business there anyway, Jas, so you can keep me up to date with what happens and make my excuses. There is no need for us both to go.’ Edmund flashed one of his disarming smiles, slapped me on the back and departed, leaving me irritated but resigned.

As it turned out the retrieval of the Pembroke lands was achieved without difficulty and no comment was made about Edmund’s absence. He returned in time to take his seat with the Lords and hear the petition read in which the king publicly proclaimed us as his brothers, although since we were related through our mother and bore only French royal blood, we were barred from any succession to the English throne. Once passed, the same Act of Parliament also established that our earldoms were not just for life but could be inherited by our legitimate male heirs. I should have been a proud and happy man, had it not been for Edmund’s muttered remark after hearing the Act read.

‘Well, if a son of mine can inherit my earldom of Richmond, it surely follows that he can also inherit his mother’s titles and honours, including any line of succession she may have to the English throne.’

PART TWO (#ulink_a8fc121a-174a-594d-9a99-a778d31d7ed7)

The Tudor Earls (#ulink_a8fc121a-174a-594d-9a99-a778d31d7ed7)

1453–1459

6 (#ulink_3a4f6f43-1140-5d33-b8d6-b0799a0d4a26)

Jane (#ulink_3a4f6f43-1140-5d33-b8d6-b0799a0d4a26)

Tŷ Cerrig, Gwynedd, North Wales

SINCE OUR PATHS HAD last crossed, Jasper Tudor’s life had been transformed – and so had he. When I hurried nervously from the house to confront the troop of armed and mounted men approaching the farmstead up the track from the shore I failed to recognize him, at first. I should have been prepared since I knew from the songs the bards sang around the local farms and lordships that the cousins who had slept on the straw in our byre two summers ago had now been declared the king’s closest kin and created the foremost earls in the land. Nevertheless, when Jasper rode under the gate-arch, bareheaded but wearing gleaming armour, on a warhorse trapped in blue and silver and leading an entourage in what looked like royal livery, my jaw dropped.

He did not wait for a man to run and hold his horse but flung his steel-clad leg over the pommel and jumped from the saddle with eager assurance. ‘Jane! It is Jane is it not? You have grown taller and even lovelier than when we last met.’ He bent over my hand before raising his head and pressing his lips briefly to mine. It was a common enough greeting between family members but I must have looked shaken because he stepped back at once with an apologetic expression. ‘Oh, have I offended you? I crave your pardon. I thought we parted friends. And we are cousins are we not?’

I saw with an inner smile of relief that, earl or not, his cheeks had flushed. An inability to hide his blushes was one of the things I had liked about him, and the way he cocked his head enquiringly to one side instantly recalled the unpretentious young man I had known. I gave a little laugh and shrugged. ‘Distant cousins, yes – and no, you have not offended me. We heard you had become Earl of Pembroke but did not expect a visit this far from your earldom. Welcome back to Tŷ Cerrig, my lord.’ Remembering my manners I dropped a low curtsy.

He urged me to rise, his colour deepening. ‘I am still not used to ceremony,’ he confessed. ‘I came to see my cousin Hywel on a matter of business but it is an added bonus to find that you are still here, Jane. I thought you might be married and away by now.’

Not knowing how to respond to this remark I averted my eyes and cleared my throat. ‘My father and brothers are in the fields but I have sent word and they should be here directly.’ Seeing the dozen or so men still mounted behind him and awaiting orders I added, ‘Will your retinue take refreshment? We have bread and ale and water for the horses.’

‘Thank you yes, they will be glad of that, but fear not, they have no need of lodging. They will find it in the town.’ He signalled them to dismount. I noticed that most wore mail-armour under their livery and swords on their belts, while the remaining few were obviously servants, armed only with small blades. Their horses were damp with sweat and it looked like they had been moving fast, as if through potentially hostile territory.

‘They may be welcome trade at the Abermaw inns but there are always empty barns on the farm at this time of year,’ I said. ‘We would not turn them away.’

A lad came forward to hold his master’s horse. ‘There are water troughs over yonder,’ Jasper told him, pointing towards the stable block. ‘And tell the captain to send a couple of men up to the house to collect refreshments.’ The youth touched his forehead in acknowledgement and led the horse away but Jasper called after him. ‘And bring my saddlebags to me.’

‘I will, my lord.’

By now Bethan had emerged cautiously with Nesta. The little girl was clutching her mother’s skirts, scared by the sight of so many horses and men, but Bethan was smiling and nodding, delighted in her simple way to see Jasper again. ‘Give you good day Jasper,’ she said with a little bob.

He strode forward and sent her into a flurry by kissing her hand. ‘Bethan, looking as beautiful as ever and blessed again I see.’ His sharp eyes had noticed her swollen belly. ‘God protect you, and the little one.’ He squatted down and ruffled Nesta’s curly mop of bronze hair. She stared solemnly back at him, her dark eyes enormous. ‘Oh you are a brave girl,’ he said, smiling. ‘Most children I speak to immediately start yelling.’ He glanced up at me. ‘So this is the newborn babe you brought into the world the last time I was here?’

‘Well, the midwife helped a little,’ I said, ‘and Bethan helped a lot, obviously!’

‘What is your name?’ Jasper was still squatting at the infant’s level.

‘Nesta,’ piped the little girl.

‘It is a Welsh form of Agnes. Bethan loved my mother.’ For some reason I felt it necessary to explain why the offspring of a second wife should be named for the one who had preceded her.

‘Agnes is in heaven,’ my stepmother said in her guileless treble. ‘She looks after my Nesta.’

Jasper straightened up. ‘It is a pretty name for a pretty girl,’ he told Bethan.

At this moment my father and my brother Maredudd strode around the corner of the house, wiping hands mired with sheep grease on their smocks. Hywel bent his knee to Jasper respectfully. ‘I was told the Earl of Pembroke was here,’ he said. ‘You are welcome to Tŷ Cerrig, my lord.’

Jasper urged him to his feet, clasping his shoulder in warm greeting. ‘I thank you, cousin Hywel. I hope you and your family will always think of me as Jasper,’ he said. ‘Indeed I hope I may rely on the continued friendship and support of all my Welsh kin.’

‘The Earls of Pembroke have not always found favour among the Welsh,’ Hywel observed, edging himself free. ‘Especially here in the north.’ I could sense an uneasy tension about him and groped for a valid reason.

‘The Earl of Pembroke has never been a Welshman before,’ responded Jasper swiftly, turning to Maredudd, who had followed our father’s lead and set his knee to the ground. ‘Cousin Maredudd, I give you God’s good day as well. We parted friends two years ago. I hope nothing has changed.’

My brother’s attitude was less wary. ‘Not as far as I am concerned, Lord Jasper, but my father pays the king’s taxes and does not like the way they are spent.’ This revelation earned him a fierce frown from Hywel.

‘Ha!’ Jasper pulled Maredudd to his feet. ‘Nor does the Duke of York. Does that make you all Yorkists now? I confess I dislike the way the country is splitting between Lancaster and York. I myself favour a united front and peace with France and intend to work towards that end.’ He turned to Hywel. ‘As for the taxation, I have something to discuss which may ease your troubles on that score. Jane offered refreshment. May we talk over a mug of ale?’

The atmosphere shifted as my father remembered his duty of hospitality. ‘Of course, my lord, let us go in.’

Before climbing the steep stair to the upper hall of the farmhouse, Hywel and Maredudd stopped to strip off their malodorous smocks in the empty byre, replacing them with clean homespun tunics and washing their hands in water drawn from the cistern barrel outside the dairy door. Meanwhile I poured ale and Bethan fetched loaves from the morning’s batch of bread and a cheese from the store-cupboard, before retiring behind the solar curtain with Nesta.

Jasper accepted a full mug from me and took a long swallow while I opened the shutters, letting light into the dim hall. ‘I must say that a draught of your fine ale is very welcome, Jane. We have been in the saddle since daybreak.’ He sat down in the big hearth chair I indicated. ‘I am going to ask your brother Maredudd to join my household at Pembroke. Do you think he will accept a position as my squire?’

With a sudden surge of jealousy I realized how much I would relish the opportunity of escaping the confines of Tŷ Cerrig. The world outside was unknown to me, an unexplored land, and likely to remain so. ‘I cannot speak for my brother but if it were me I would jump at the chance,’ I said. I placed two trestles in the middle of the room, then Mair helped me fit the board across them.

Jasper watched us lay out the cheese and bread and begin to cut wedges. ‘Would you really like to leave Tŷ Cerrig, Jane?’ he asked with thoughtful surprise. ‘But how would your father manage without you? He has other sons to work the farm but no one else who can run the household as you do.’

I made no response because at that moment my father and brother entered the hall. Maredudd was hauling a pair of large and obviously heavy saddlebags, which he set down beside Jasper. ‘Your lad brought these up to the house,’ he said. ‘They feel as if they are full of gold.’

Jasper laughed and stood up, putting his mug down on the board. ‘They carry the parts of my armour that I am not wearing. Could I ask your help in removing the rest? I am sure I will not be needing it here.’

He watched keenly as Maredudd set about undoing the buckles that secured the various elements of armour he had considered necessary for protection on the road. I had no idea what any of them were called but I was surprised to hear Maredudd name each piece as he removed it, obviously impressed. ‘This is beautifully made, my lord. Fits you perfectly,’ he remarked, placing the last item on the pile of gleaming steel. ‘It must have cost a great deal. Shall I give it a rub before I put it in the bag?’

Stripped to tunic and hose, Jasper looked considerably more comfortable. ‘Not now, thank you.’ He shook his head and went to pull his chair up to the table but Maredudd was ahead of him, placing it at the centre of the board and pushing it in as Jasper sat himself down. ‘Perhaps later, after we have all spoken a little together. And let us eat while we talk. I confess I am hungry.’

I went to replenish his supply of ale and fill cups for my father and brother, who drew up a bench opposite Jasper. I found it strange to see my father take a subordinate position at his own board and it brought home to me the new gulf in rank between our Tudor cousin and us. I could see that Hywel was chafing silently under the inferior position.

‘Please sit with us, Jane,’ Jasper said unexpectedly. ‘If you can spare the time.’

I glanced at my father, received his curt nod of approval and slid onto the bench beside Maredudd. As I did so I remembered the rest of the men waiting for refreshment outside and reached out to cut another, much larger wedge off the big cheese wheel. I handed it to Mair and told her to draw some jugs of ale and take them with the cheese and several loaves down to the stables. ‘Do not linger down there gossiping,’ I charged her. ‘Get straight back to the dairy.’

‘There should be men waiting below to collect the victuals,’ Jasper said.