Resurrection Page 2

  "My Lady? I mean, Your Grace... I do not understand. My father has agreed the terms..."

  The Lady Anne turned to smile at Jane. "I am not interested in your bride price, and I suspect neither are you, though it is clearly a matter of some concern to Sir Thomas. I prefer to hear about your husband to be. I recall having met Sir Gerard on several occasions. He is a handsome devil, would you not agree?"

  Jane nodded, unable to take issue with that assessment. She had clapped eyes on her betrothed but once, two years previously, but retained vivid memories of Sir Gerard Twyfford. Handsome, he was most certainly that, and a devil—quite possibly. His dark good looks had terrified the ten-year-old child who found herself promised to him, and on that one occasion of their meeting he had been entirely indifferent in his attitude towards her. He had accompanied his father to Haveringham to complete the formalities. Sir Gerard signed the required documents, then he and his sire conferred at some length with her father in the privacy of the solar. Later the whole household dined in the great hall, a feast to celebrate the joining of their families, and although Jane was present at the table, Sir Gerard made no attempt to engage her in conversation nor to become acquainted with his bride to be.

  She watched him, listened as he joked with the men around him, quaked when he occasionally flirted with one of the maidservants, and trembled at his sheer size. Sir Gerard must have been six feet tall, broad, powerful in build. She recalled that his hair was the colour of a raven's wing. He wore it long and his locks flowed freely to his shoulders. His clothing appeared well fitted and even she could tell that his apparel was not made of the cheap cloth she was more accustomed to. The Roseworth keep might require funds, but the heir to the castle apparently did not.

  His voice was deep, and something in his tone held her attention despite the chatter of those around her. His eyes were blue, a deep and brilliant shade which reminded her of the vibrant plumage of the kingfishers she often spied from the window of the chamber she shared with her sister. His mouth was wide and he smiled frequently, though never in her direction. The feature she remembered with most clarity though, was his hands. Jane had been present when he took the proffered quill from his sire and scrawled his mark on the paper sealing her fate. She noted that his fingers were long, straight, and had a capable look to them. Later she observed the deft way he handled his dagger at the table, and on one occasion he caressed the rounded bottom of the wench who replenished his wine. Jane's stomach lurched. She felt discomfited at the sight of his hands on another, though she had no desire whatsoever to feel them upon her own person.

  And therein lay her present dilemma. Marriage would necessarily entail his hands upon her, and it would not end there. Jane knew next to nothing of the detail, but the murmured innuendo she had been subject to for as long as she could remember was sufficient to strike terror into her. Even a kind, considerate husband would expect her to do her duty—whatever that might amount to—and Jane quaked at the thought. Sir Gerard did not strike her as the type of man to be satisfied with lacklustre performance, and Jane knew she would never measure up.

  All in all, Jane had been both captivated and repelled by her betrothed. She could find it in her to harbour no expectation of happiness as his wife.

  "Jane? Is it not the wish of any young girl to marry a handsome man?" The duchess prompted her, her voice gentle.

  "Yes, Your Grace, I suppose it is."

  "So...?"

  "He is old, my lady. Much older than I."

  The duchess gave a short laugh. "He is not yet twenty, I believe. Your betrothed has many fine years left in him yet, Jane."

  "But – I am just twelve summers. I shall be thirteen at Michaelmas."

  "I see. But, you do know he will not expect you to be his wife in all respects, not for some time yet."

  "I... I do not know that, Your Grace. No one has said..."

  "Then they should have. Your mother should have made this clear."

  "I do not believe she knows what is to happen after..." Jane hesitated, lacking the words to make her fears clear. "I think she will just be content to see the marriage accomplished and be rid of me. She does not like me very much, you see."

  "Then Lady Margaret is a fool."

  Buoyed up by the duchess' words of support, Jane babbled on. "I do not believe Sir Gerard really likes me either. He did not speak to me at all the one time he was here. I think my mother fears that he will change his mind and marry another lady more to his liking."

  The duchess gave an unladylike snort. "He will not. The contract is signed and is binding. And you must realise that for us, marriage is not about who we like, it is about who we must be allied to. You must do your duty, Jane."

  "I know." Jane studied the toes of her pretty slippers as tears again pricked the backs of her eyelids. The duchess had spent more time than any before her in seeking to reconcile Jane to this inevitable marriage, but still the child dreaded what was to come.

  Lady Anne tipped up Jane's chin with the tips of her fingers. "You understand your obligation well enough, child, but still you do not wish to be wed to Sir Gerard?"

  "It is not so much that I do not wish to. I know that I must. But, I had hoped not to marry him quite so soon. I thought I was to remain here until I am at least sixteen years old, but it seems I must marry now and go to live at Roseworth."

  "Ah, yes. I gather the earl wishes to lay claim to your dowry, hence his desire to hurry things along."

  "His castle is in need of repairs."

  "Yes, so I have heard. And this is the principal reason for your despair then, the timing of the wedding rather than the marriage itself?"

  Jane nodded. "I want to stay here. I will have to go to live at Roseworth eventually, I realise that. But I know no one there, and I would not even be allowed to take a servant from here. I would have to learn to be a lady, and keep clean. I could never play in the grounds. Nor would I be able to take Cloud—"

  "Cloud?" The duchess frowned as she tried to follow the child's chatter.

  "My pony. She is too small for me to ride now, but I love her, and..."

  "Ah, I see. You are right, of course. We all need our friends to be around us, especially when venturing toward new and unfamiliar horizons. So tell me, do you have other concerns, Lady Jane?"

  Jane shook her head.

  "There is nothing you object to in the man himself?"

  "No, Your Grace. I do not know him, so how could I object?"

  "Quite so. And now, I believe we have held up proceedings in the hall for quite long enough. Do you feel ready to return, Jane?"

  Jane nodded, though her heart sank at the prospect. Still, the coming negotiations would proceed no better for keeping. "Yes, Your Grace. Thank you."

  "You are quite welcome, Lady Jane. Now, if you would lead the way..."

  A few minutes later Jane accompanied the duchess into the great hall. Her parents and the earl still sat at the top table, but now the Duke of Gloucester had joined their group. He smiled broadly as Jane entered with his wife.

  "Ah, I trust you are quite recovered, my dear?" He rose to greet them, requiring all the others present to do likewise.

  Lady Margaret made no attempt to conceal her scowl of annoyance, though she could say little without running the risk of annoying her exalted guests. "Jane, sit down at once. We wish to proceed."

  Jane scurried to take her seat at the bottom of the table, whilst the duchess stepped up to the top to sit next to her husband. She dropped a light kiss onto the Duke's cheek then apologised to the rest for keeping them waiting.

  "I am prone to headaches, and a breath of fresh air tends to work wonders. I am so grateful for Jane's kindness in accompanying me. She is a delightful child, Lady Margaret. You must be very proud of her." The duchess' smile bestowed upon Lady Margaret was radiant, but from her seat at the end of the table Jane was sure she detected a note of something else there too. Challenge perhaps? Was her newfound protector ready to sing her praises and dari
ng her mother to disagree?

  Lady Margaret apparently found it in herself to incline her head in polite acquiescence as the group all re-took their seats.

  "Right, this bloody marriage then. The ceremony can take place next month, as we agreed. Let us sign the final papers and be on with it." The earl announced the state of things and glared around the table.

  Lady Margaret opened her mouth to speak, and Jane had no doubt her mother would be all too ready to agree with the earl's requirements.

  "Ah yes, Jane is also keen to progress matters." The duchess broke in, effectively cutting off Lady Margaret. "She told me so, just now. In particular, Jane is most eager to make the better acquaintance of her bridegroom. I wonder, could that be arranged, Sir Thomas?"

  The blustering earl now found himself on the receiving end of one of Lady Anne's beatific smiles. He squirmed in his seat. "My son has much to concern himself with. He is at court, and occupied in the service of the King. I do not think—"

  "My brother would not wish to stand in the way of a match which holds such importance for all parties." The Duke of Gloucester took a sip of his wine as he surveyed those around him. "I daresay something could be arranged. I feel convinced Sir Gerard's duties will bring him in the vicinity of Haveringham in the not too distant future."

  The Duke and his duchess exchanged a look, and Jane could swear the lady inclined her head to salute her husband, if only a little.

  "Quite, that would be perfectly splendid. Thank you, my lord. Which brings us to the next matter Jane and I discussed, that of the timing of the wedding."

  "Now see here—," began Sir Thomas.

  "You were saying, my lady?" The Duke interrupted the other man with a glare of admonishment. Sir Thomas sank back into his seat as Lady Anne cleared her throat to continue.

  "Ah, yes, as I was saying—Jane is keen to conclude the formalities, as I know you are too, Sir Thomas. Is it really necessary to wait a month? We were thinking we might see the marriage solemnised whilst you are here, my lord, by proxy naturally, given Sir Gerard's pressing commitments. That would release the dowry, I trust?"

  "It would," agreed Sir William.

  "Excellent. So this eager young couple could be married at once, though naturally, Lady Margaret, given your daughter’s youth, you will wish to insist that she does not actually take up residence in her new home for several years yet."

  Now it was the turn of Jane's mama to bear the pleasant if determined scrutiny of the duchess. She muttered something about Jane requiring to learn her wifely duties but the duchess waved that concern away.

  "I am quite convinced Jane could learn all she needs to know here, or if wider experience is required she might spend some time with us at York. Yes, I would like that. Of course, she must bring her own servants with her, and her pony, in readiness for when she does eventually remove to Roseworth, for she will require her own attendants at that stage, too."

  "Her pony?" Lady Margaret’s expression was one of utter incredulity. "Jane does not possess a pony."

  "Does she not? No matter, I am sure you would be able to locate such an animal, in your extensive stables, Sir William."

  Jane's father was no match for the duchess. He simply nodded and reached for his tankard of ale.

  "It will be so pleasant to have Lady Jane with us, of course, but we must not be selfish. I would not wish to keep her from her husband over-long. I think she should be looking to take up her position by the time she is—should we say fourteen? Or just possibly fifteen?" The duchess cast a glance in her husband's direction.

  The Duke straightened in his chair. "You were ever precipitous, my dear, but it does not do to rush these matters. I believe seventeen would be quite soon enough, do you not agree, Sir William?"

  Jane's father shrugged, though he did not appear displeased with the arrangements. "What? Seventeen? Yes, yes indeed. Quite soon enough."

  Jane did not dare to so much as glance in her mother's direction

  Richard's duchess beamed at him. "You are right, as ever, my lord. Seventeen it shall be then, and until she reaches that age Jane should spend as much time as Lady Margaret might spare her for in our household, in preparation for her future role as mistress of Roseworth. Shall we summon a scribe to draft the necessary amendments since we all find ourselves in perfect accord?"

  Chapter Two

  Roseworth Castle, Northumberland

  Ten years later, August 1485

  "I apologise for keeping you, my lord, but I wondered—is there news? Of the King?" Jane sat upright in her bed, leaning against the pillows as she clutched her coverlet to her chest. Her husband, his monthly duties performed with his usual perfunctory efficiency, hopped about beside her bed, balancing on one leg as he shoved his feet back into his hose ready to depart for what Jane could only assume to be a bed he found more to his liking. Gerard rarely remained with her for more than few minutes after depositing his seed within her infertile body, and this night was no exception. He would dress, offer her a polite bow, and leave her chamber as quickly as he decently might. She rarely saw him during the day, and certainly not in a manner conducive to private conversation, so if she was to press him for news it must be now.

  Recently returned from the fighting in the midlands, her husband would even now be commanding his army in defense of King Richard were it not for the injury to his shoulder which had necessitated his temporary presence at home to recuperate. The last news they had received informed them that the King's forces were to meet those of the usurping Henry Tudor close to Leicester, where the outcome should be decisive.

  Jane was quite certain that Richard would prevail. He was, after all, the rightful King of England following his brother's untimely death some two years previously, and the bizarre disappearance of his nephews. Jane had no doubt the boys had been spirited abroad by their mother who distrusted Richard and was convinced he meant harm to her and her brood. It was a ridiculous notion, but one which Elizabeth Woodville, the widow of the late king, clung to with her customary tenacity. Jane knew that Richard would never harm those close to him, though the Lancastrian rebels would do all in their power to blacken his name.

  She knew, too, that her husband's injury was almost completely healed and that Sir Gerard would soon re-join the King's forces. If she was to learn of the progress of Richard's cause she would need to speak to him sooner rather than later.

  Gerard paused in his battle with his clothing. He glanced at the small figure hunched in the bed and spared a sympathetic smile for her.

  "Ah, yes. I forget how close you are to the King. I regret, though, I have received no word as yet. As soon as there is anything to report Garrick will return, and you have my word that I will share the news with you, my lady."

  Garrick, captain of her husband's personal guard, had stayed with the King's troops along with most of the Roseworth men at arms. Whilst his injury prevented his personal presence on the battlefield, much to Gerard's frustration, her husband had been insistent that his forces would remain at Richard's disposal. Jane knew it was Gerard's intention to rejoin the King's forces within the week, and it was quite possible she would not see him again for months.

  "You will send regular reports, my lord? Do you promise?"

  "I have said so, have I not? Do you doubt my word, Jane?"

  His tone had hardened, taking on a note of impatience which had become more frequent of late. Jane sensed her husband's attitude toward her shifting from indulgent indifference to frustrated resentment, though he did nothing to overtly suggest that he was displeased with her. It was just a feeling, a suspicion she could not shake off. Gerard was a lord dissatisfied with his lady. She, Jane, was an unwanted and barren wife.

  "Of course I do not, my lord. I am merely anxious, is all."

  Gerard fastened his shirt then sat back down on the edge of the bed to pull on his shoes. "You concern yourself overmuch with matters of state, my lady. This latest rising will amount to nought. The Tudor bastard is an adventu
rer, a man with more ambition than sense. He will not succeed in overthrowing Richard."

  Jane nodded and watched in silence as her husband strode across the room to the door. He paused to offer her a courteous bow, then exited. His footsteps echoed along the stone flags of the corridor outside, until there was just silence left.

  Jane remained still, staring at the door for long moments after her husband departed. She had no doubt that Gerard was right about the final outcome of this strife with the bastard Henry Tudor, but still she worried—both about the state of their country as well as the state of her own marriage. Just a few months ago she might have sent word to the Queen, or even journeyed to court to speak to her. Anne's counsel was always welcome, her support and affection for Jane unshakable. As long as she enjoyed the favour of the Queen and the protection of the King, Jane's position at Roseworth was safe. However, to her immense sadness, the lady who had taken her under her wing for the last ten years had succumbed to illness less than half a year ago. Jane missed her friend and mentor with a passion she found hard to credit, but there it was.

  Jane and Anne had forged a close friendship over the years since the Duchess of Gloucester interceded so effectively for her in the matter of her marriage. Events had proceeded exactly as Anne decreed. The marriage took place the morning after that fateful interview. The family and guests assembled in the great hall at Haveringham, with Sir Thomas standing as proxy for his son. The marriage solemnised and the dowry safely in his possession, the earl was glad enough to depart within the hour.

  Jane never saw him again. Two years later she received word that her father-in-law had died following a fall from his horse. Her husband was now the Earl of Roseworth, and she, Jane, was a countess.

  Jane had expected to be summoned to her husband's keep at once, but that did not happen. The new earl was, apparently, occupied elsewhere and preferred his young bride to remain in the safety of the Duke of Gloucester's household. Jane could only surmise that, despite the half dozen or so duty visits he had made to the north of England since their marriage, her husband could muster no more enthusiasm than she for consummating their union.