The Sun in Splendour - Plaidy Jean (электронную книгу бесплатно без регистрации .txt) 📗

Richard had more than subdued the Scots, he had given Edward those Northern victories to think of when he might have been very plagued by the news from Burgundy.

They would keep Christmas at Westminster he told Elizabeth and he wanted it to be a season all would remember.

Preparations were in progress, there should be special banquets, balls and a morality play performed in the great hall. The guest of honour should be his brother Richard. He wanted everyone to understand how he relied on his brother.

Elizabeth was a little sullen when Richard's name was mentioned. She would have liked to whisper a word of crihcism regarding him in the King's ear, but she was wise enough to know how that would be received.

T am glad,' she told her brother Anthony, 'that he seems to be so enamoured of his life in the North. It keeps him away most of the time. As for Anne, she is a poor creature; she always looks to me as though she is fading away—^and they say the boy is not very strong either.'

'We shall doubtless see them at Christmas,' said Anthony, who was suffering from a disappointment because his proposed marriage to the Scottish princess seemed to be going the same way as that which was once suggested with the Duchess of Burgundy.

Poor Anthony, thought Elizabeth. He needed a wife. She could easily find an heiress for him but she really*wanted someone royal like Margaret of Scotland or Mary of Burgundy.

Poor Mary, she was no more now, and her husband Maximilian was not in a very happy state. Elizabeth knew that they were always sending frantic calls for help to Edward and she wondered what would have happened if Anthony had married Mary. Would he be in the same position as Maximilian was now?

She shrugged her shoulders. She could always brush off her disappointments and look for new fields of conquest.

Messengers had arrived with more news from Burgundy.

The King received the despatches but did not open them immediately. He did not want to hear disturbing news.

He talked to Elizabeth of the coming Christmas and as he talked his fingers curled about the papers. He supposed he must see what they contained. Who knew, it might be good news.

Good news from Burgundy! What good news could there possibly be? That Maximilian had miraculously found the arms and money he needed from somewhere. Where? Elizabeth was watching him. She knew that he was delaying reading the

messages. She pretended not to notice and went on to discuss a new dance the girls were learning.

'Elizabeth hopes that you will dance with her/ she said.

'Ah yes . . . that I will. She is a delightful creature.'

'Oh, Madame la Dauphine has her fair share of good looks.'

He could delay no longer. He broke the seals. It was from Margaret.

The words danced before his eyes. He was not seeing correctly. It could not possibly be. Maximilian had capitulated. He could no longer hold out. He was making terms for peace with the King of France. In this treaty Louis had agreed that the Dauphin should marry Maximilian's daughter and bring the provinces of Burgundy and Artois under French domination.

Red mist swam before Edward's eyes; his heart was beating with thundering hammer-like strokes.

The Dauphin for Margaret of Burgundy. But the Dauphin was for Elizabeth. He could hear his wife's voice going on and on in his head. 'Madame la Dauphine . . . Madame la Dauphine . . . .' No. His lips formed the word. It must not be. The Dauphin was for Elizabeth, Madame la Dauphine. His Elizabeth. His daughter. There could be no other Madame la Dauphine. And Louis had done this . . . arrogantly, insolently, without even warning him. Louis knew how great his desire for this match had been. He knew what it meant to him. Perhaps he had heard how, ever since it had been decided on, young Elizabeth had been known as Madame la Dauphine. Perhaps he had laughed slyly. And he had done this . . . brushed the King of England aside as though he were of no importance!

And what of the pension? What need to pay the pension now that he no longer feared Burgundy? What need to pretend this unnatural friendship existed? Oh he should have acted differently. He should have foreseen this. He should have sent everything he possibly could to prevent Maximilian being beaten by Louis.

At this most important stage of his career he had made a, great mistake. He had been too complacent. He should have seen disaster coming. He had but he had refused to look at it. He had pretended it wasn't there. And now ... it had come upon him. He had lost the marriage. He had lost the pension. An instalment was overdue now. No wonder for the first time Louis had held up payments. He should have seen it coming. And now here it was

presented to him in such a way that he could no longer pretend not to see it.

He had failed . . . wretchedly. He felt sick, sorry and ashamed. The old spider had got the better of him at last.

The maddening thing was that he might have prevented it.

'Edward . . . Edward. . . .'It was Elizabeth's voice seeming to come to him from a long way off. 'Edward . . . Edward.'

Red mists swam before his eyes and then blackness seemed to envelop him.

The King had had a slight seizure brought on by shock, but his strong body and immense will-power enabled him to shake off the effects and he declared that the Christmas celebrations should go on as planned.

In fact they should be more lavish than ever; he wanted the Court to say that this Christmas was the most magnificent of his reign.

Elizabeth had been thoroughly shaken by the sight of the King unconscious. At first she had feared he was dead and had immediately begun to calculate what this would mean to her and her family. That it would be a major calamity she had no doubt for although her family had been strategically placed in all the positions of power throughout the country they had been like planets revolving round the sun, drawing their power from that brilliant orb, and if it were suddenly removed who could know what would happen?

There was her son, twelve years old, and a minor unable to govern. He was it was true surrounded by his maternal relations who would govern for him, but Elizabeth knew there were many in the country who would rise against that. And Edward would not be there to suppress them.

For Edward himself she had a certain regret also. Theirs had been a happy marriage, and she could congratulate herself on keeping her place—no easy matter for a woman in her position, and with a man of such roving appetites one would have thought it well nigh impossible. But she had done it and proved to the world his continued interest in her by the fact that she continued to bear his children.

When she thought of losing him she looked into a dark future

where anything might be likely to happen.

Thus when she saw him there, still and silent, his ruddy face turning a deep purple, his limbs after twitching a moment or two remaining still, she was filled with a desperate fear.

She had shouted to the attendants who came rushing in. They managed to get him to his bed, not an easy matter for he was very heavy; they sent for the doctors.

By the time they came he had regained consciousness and as the days passed it became clear that he would recover; moreover, although the attack had alarmed him and those about him and the doctors said he must keep to his bed for a week at least, he seemed to have come through unscathed.

So preparations for Christmas went on. The King took a great interest in them. Richard with his family would be present and Edward would be surrounded by his own children—all five girls and the two boys and there should be special revelries.

He wanted to see the new velvets of which he had heard and he himself would select those from which new garments would be made. There was a cloth of gold shot with blue which was most effective. He would have a long gown made of that, and a new purple velvet mantle edged with ermine.