In the Shadow of the Crown - Plaidy Jean - Страница 13

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The defection of the Emperor had made me more aware. I must thrust aside sentimentality. I must cease to dream of chivalry and romance. That was not for such as I was, and oddly enough I did not wish it to be different. My little taste of power had changed me. I felt a glow of satisfaction when I thought of the crown.

And then we had a visitor to Ludlow. The Countess brought him to me and said with great pride, “Your Highness, may I present you to my son?”

And there was Reginald Pole. I held out my hand; he took it and kissed it. He was very handsome and I liked him as soon as I saw him. He had a good face, and in spite of my growing cynicism, I very much wished to retain my belief in the triumph of goodness over evil. I warmed to him.

He was respectful but by no means subservient. I might be a Tudor but he was of the Plantagenet line, as royal as I—some would say more so.

He was of middle height and very slender, with a fair complexion, light brown hair and blueish gray eyes—a handsome man, but he had more than good looks. There was a nobility about him which came from within and colored his entire personality.

“Reginald has just returned from Padua, where he has been studying,” went on the Countess.

“Do you intend to stay here in England?” I asked.

“I am as yet unsure, Princess,” he replied. “So much depends on what happens.”

“The King received him with great pleasure,” the Countess told me.

“Yes,” agreed Reginald. “He was very gracious to me. I told him that I should doubtless go to the Carthusian Monastery at Sheen to continue my studies.”

During the next days I was in the company of Reginald Pole a good deal. Although he was many years older than I—about sixteen, I believe—we were drawn to each other. I was glad then that Johannes Ludovicus Vives had made me study as I did because I could see now that I astonished Reginald with my learning.

The Countess was delighted by our friendship, and I believe she contrived it so that we should often be alone together. He used to talk to me as though I were of his own age which flattered me considerably. In Reginald's company I forgot my disappointment at the Emperor's perfidy and the impending dread of a possible marriage with Francois Premier.

Reginald had a great admiration and love for my father, which delighted me; he was also deeply attached to my mother.

His conversation was erudite but never condescending, and I always felt elevated after my sessions with him. He was frank about the past and my family's accession to the throne. Reginald was the sort of man who would maintain the truth at all costs and have died rather than deny it. He gave me back my belief in mankind. I shall always be grateful to Reginald Pole because he came into my life when I was bewildered and needed to have my faith restored. While there were such men as he was, I could believe in the human race again and should always do so.

He talked about his grandfather, George, Duke of Clarence who had died in the Tower at the instigation, some thought, of his brother King Edward IV.

“Oh,” he said, “it is indeed dangerous to live close to the crown. You will always have to be on your guard, Princess.”

“I know that now.”

“One day you could be Queen of this country. You must be prepared.”

“I will be,” I told him. “I am determined to.”

“You are so young,” he said, smiling tenderly. “I feel I have advanced far in the last year.”

He understood at once. He knew that I had been bandied from the Emperor to the King of France. I think that when a closeness grows up between two people they can often understand what is in each other's minds without the use of words.

“The match with Francois will never take place,” he assured me.

“I fervently hope and pray that it will not.”

“You can put your fears away. Francois will have to marry the Emperor's sister. He dare not refuse. His sons are in jeopardy. The match with you was never meant to be taken seriously.”

He told me how delighted he was to see the friendship between me and his mother.

“You are as dear to her as her own flesh and blood,” he told me. “We have been together so long.”

“My mother is a wonderful woman. The King has been good to her. He restored her estates when he came to the throne and that was to compensate for the murder by the previous King of my uncle, the Earl of Warwick, who had a claim to the throne.”

“I know. I am sorry it was my grandfather who behaved so.”

“It is the lust for power. The glitter of the crown. Your grandfather felt it necessary. He was a man who never murdered for the sake of revenge or such motives—only when he feared the security of the crown.”

“Does that excuse him?” I asked.

“In the eyes of some who believe his motives were for the good of the country, yes. Those who think it is for the love of personal aggrandizement and power, no. And some believe that to murder in any circumstances is a mortal sin. You see, when there is more than one claimant to the throne the result can be civil war. Your grandfather, I am convinced, thought that should be stopped at all costs, and if the death of one man can save the lives of many which would be lost if there were war … his actions could be justified.”

“And what do you believe?”

“That each case should be judged by its merits.”

“Then you would excuse the murder of the Princes in the Tower?”

“Ah, you are getting into deep water, Princess. That remains a mystery, and it is always unwise to judge without being in possession of all the facts.”

“Is one ever in possession of all of them?”

“Hardly ever, I imagine.”

“Then it is always unwise to judge.”

He smiled that very sweet and gentle smile which I was growing to love. He said, “I see you are a very logical princess. One must be sure of one's premise when in discussion with you.”

I liked to lure him into talking about himself. He had stories to tell of his first five years at Stourton Castle with his brothers and sister. Henry and Arthur were older than he was, and after his birth Geoffry and Ursula had joined the nursery. I had often heard the Countess talk of them, and I could well imagine that happy household presided over by my dear friend and governess, for most certainly she would give to her own children the same loving care which she had bestowed on me.

He told me how he had loved the Charterhouse at Sheen, where he had spent five years. Like myself, he had taken to learning and had always had the desire to add to his store of knowledge. In many ways we were very much alike. I suppose that was why, in such a short time, we had become such good friends.

“Your father always interested himself in me,” he told me. “He could not forget what happened to my uncle. He carried his father's conscience.”

I glowed with pleasure because of this. I wanted so much for my father to be a good man as well as handsome and distinguished and able to shine above all others. I had uneasy twinges when I heard about the birth of Henry Fitzroy after his elevation, both of which had caused great sorrow to my mother.

“The King insisted on paying for part of my education,” Reginald told me. “He always calls me cousin. Then I went to Oxford, and there my tutor was Doctor Thomas Linacre who, I believe, was concerned with your education.”

“Oh yes—and my Uncle Arthur's too. He is a great scholar.”

“I owe him much. My mother always intended that I should go in the Church. I think my father expressed the wish that I should do so before he died.”

“And do you intend to?”

“Yes… but later. It is a decision I do not want to take just yet. I want to do more study. I want to travel more. I might wish to marry.”

“Yes,” I said. “Perhaps you will.”

He smiled at me and I felt a sudden lifting of the heart. I thought: Suppose they were to choose Reginald for my husband, how should I feel? But of course they would not. In my position I should be reserved for a ruler. I should be betrothed when it was convenient to make some treaty. That did not matter much—the treaty would surely be broken before the marriage took place.

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