I walk with Wycliffe in this ‘madness’.”
“How dare you talk as if Wycliffe works the will of Jesus Christ!”
“Wycliffe devotes his life to freeing the poor and downtrodden from the enslavement of their social and clerical ‘betters’. Is that not what Jesus Christ gave his life for?”
“You will bring death and disaster to this realm, Wat,” Neville said in a quiet voice, “as Marcel did to Paris.”
Tyler’s face twisted, almost as if he wanted to say something but found the words too difficult.
Then, as had Wycliffe, he turned and bowed to Margaret, thanking her in a warm and elegant fashion, and bid her farewell. “Go with Christ, my lady.”
“And you, Wat.” Margaret turned her head slightly as soon as she had said the words, fearful that Thomas should see the gleam of tears within their depths.
Would this be the last time she ever saw Wat?
Wat Tyler stared at Margaret one more moment, then he, too, turned and left the hall.
The Tuesday before the Feast of SS Egidius and Priscus
In the first year of the reign of Richard II
(30th August 1379)
Mycliffe, Tyler and the other two priests were gone by the time Neville arose at dawn. Although Neville was grateful they had departed, he felt useless as well. He would, by far, have preferred to put Wycliffe under some form of detention before he caused any mischief … but to do so might well be to anger Lancaster, and that Neville did not want to do.
So he’d had to let the demon—as he had no doubt Wycliffe was—escape.
Neville set about his morning tasks, hoping they would consume his mind, but instead, his temper became shorter as the day wore on. He was useless stuck here in the wilds of Kent! When would Hal call him back to court?
The only thing that calmed his mood was when, in the early afternoon, he joined Margaret and Rosalind in their solar. Neville loved his daughter, and always made the time to spend an hour at least playing with her each day.
He strode into the room, greeting Margaret perfunctorily—not noticing her wince—and lifted Rosalind from her arms.
Neville grinned and ruffled the black, curly hair that Rosalind had inherited from him. She was strong now, and of good weight and size for her almost six months of age. She had recovered well from the trauma of her birth … perhaps it was her good Neville blood, Neville thought, for his entire family was of hearty stock and robust determination.
Margaret watched him with sadness. Her husband looked to Courtenay for friendship, and to his daughter for love, but to her … what? She took a deep breath, controlling her emotions, and then tilted her head as she heard a noise outside the door.
Neville glanced at her, irritated by the solemnity of her expression, then turned to the door as Courtenay strode through.
“My lord!” Courtenay said. “We have yet more company!”
He got no further, for a handsome man dressed in Hal Bolingbroke’s new livery as the Duke of Hereford pushed past Courtenay.
Neville’s eyes widened, for he recognised the man as Roger Salisbury, a young knight of noble family who had worked in Hal’s entourage for some time.
Roger Salisbury stopped several steps into the solar, and bowed.
“My Lord Neville,” he said, and was interrupted from further speech by Neville.
“Bolingbroke wants me,” he said.
“Aye, my lord. I bear greetings from my Lord of Hereford, and am to inform you of his wish that you return to his side in London within the week.”
Neville turned back to Margaret. “At last! I thought Bolingbroke had forgotten me!”
He stepped over to her and gently lowered Rosalind into her care. “I shall miss her,” he said, and did not notice the sudden humiliation in Margaret’s eyes.
Salisbury cleared his throat. “My Lord of Hereford also wishes that the Lady Margaret and your daughter ride with you.”
Neville’s eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Margaret is to ride with me?”
“Indeed, my lord,” Salisbury said. “Bolingbroke—” he lapsed into informality, for although Hal was now Duke of Hereford, he was familiarly known as Bolingbroke “—is to take the Lady Mary Bohun to wife within the month, and it is her wish that your lady wife serve at her side.”
Neville’s mouth twisted. “Mary Bohun does not know the Lady Margaret exists,” he said. “The wish is Bolingbroke’s alone.”
He paused, and in that pause allowed his suspicions their full malevolent flood. Why did Hal want Margaret within his household? Surely it would be better if she and Rosalind stayed within the safety of Halstow Hall? There was no need for Hal to want Margaret back, as well as him, unless … no, no. It could not be … And then there was Richard … in London, Margaret would be so close to Richard’s animal lusts … too close …
“Richard …” he said without meaning to put voice to his thoughts.
Salisbury looked at Neville. Bolingbroke had told him that Neville would fear for Margaret’s chastity around a king who had already made clear his desire for her.
“Bolingbroke,” Salisbury said carefully, “has stated that the Lady Margaret will enjoy the full protection of his household. She will come to no harm under my lord’s roof.”
Maybe not from Richard, Neville thought. But from Hal? Hal has made it plain enough to me that he wants Mary only for her lands. Does he now want the woman he does desire back under his roof?
“My lord husband,” Margaret said, rising. “You have told me previously that Lancaster thought I could do well to serve his wife, the Lady Katherine. But now that you have taken service with Bolingbroke, instead of his father, it is natural that I should serve Bolingbroke’s wife instead.”
Neville looked at her closely, but finally nodded his agreement to something he fully realised he had no choice in.
“Very well,” he said, silently vowing that he would ensure Margaret came to, nor caused, no harm.
The Feast of the Translation of SS Egidius and Priscus
In the first year of the reign of Richard II
(Thursday 1st September 1379)
Richard Thorseby, Prior General of the Dominican Order in England, sat at
