‘Constance, love of my life. They said you were here. I knew I would receive a wifely tribute to my survival.’
‘You receive the words due to you, my lord.’ The smile remained pinned to my lips. ‘They said that you had returned in Lancaster’s train.’
‘Are you going to take issue with that?’
‘Should I?’
My hours of solitude had given me no respite and my temper was warm. Thomas, only now discovering the time to visit me, had seen a need, despite the critical events afoot, to change his well-travelled garments for a figured silk-damask tunic and velvet cap. Insurrection might threaten the realm but Thomas must dress to proclaim his rank. As he closed the door behind him and leaned his compact figure against it, his chin was tilted in defiance.
I chose not to rise from my chair where I knew the light from the high window would enhance my beauty in this richly appointed room, the perfect setting, as carved gold enhanced the flawless jewel in the brooch at my breast. Moreover I had freed my hair from its confinement. The Earl of Gloucester was fortunate in his bride, both in her looks and in her royal connections. Unfortunately, Thomas would have wed me even if I were the most ill-favoured Plantagenet daughter in England.
‘A picture to welcome any man home from the wars.’
‘What have you been doing?’ I asked, continuing my cold appraisal.
‘I had matters to attend to,’ he said, walking slowly forward.
‘As I see.’ I made a languid gesture to the furred garment and the costly shoes before firing the obvious arrow. ‘To whom are we bowing the knee today? King Richard or the Duke of Lancaster?’
He was annoyed. He bent, elegantly, to raise my chin with one finger, scanning my features, as I returned the regard. Not an unattractive man with dark hair, flattened into seemly order beneath his cap, and eyes the colour of brown agates, I thought for the first time that it was unfortunate he roused no heat in my blood.
‘And good day to you too, Constance.’
‘Is it? It is not a good day for Richard.’
Thomas caught my gaze, held it. ‘Have you seen him?’
‘I have. He was under guard.’
‘So you don’t need to ask where our allegiance must be.’
I remembered Richard as I had seen him in the Great Hall. Bewildered at his change in circumstances, all his glory dimmed from his dirty shoes to his vacant expression. Yet here was Thomas, very much undimmed as he dropped his gilded gloves and chaperon onto my lap. In a little spirit of spite I allowed them to slide to the floor, ignoring Thomas’s silent snarl.
‘Have you seen York?’ Thomas asked.
‘Yes. My father was keeping guard on the man who may or may not still be King. He says he’s following Lancaster’s orders. I understand my father did not even engage with Lancaster, despite the strength of the army at his command.’ I made no attempt to hide my disgust. ‘Surely Lancaster could have been stopped when he first landed in England,’ I suggested.
‘I expect that he could, but he wasn’t, and now he’s strong enough to order up and pay the piper and we all dance.’
‘And you are garbed for dancing, my love. Lancaster cannot fail to be impressed.’
I stood and ran my hand down the length of his embroidered sleeve, but when Thomas moved away, I deliberately softened my mood, knowing from long experience that I would get nothing from him unless I appeared compliant.
‘All we can do, then, is wait,’ I offered.
‘Wait for what? For Lancaster to decide that I and the rest of your family are as culpable as King Richard for robbing him of his inheritance? Is there wine in here?’ he demanded.
I fetched the cups and a flagon from the cupboard and poured as he flung himself into the chair I had just vacated.
I chose my words carefully.
‘I know so little, Thomas, and my father was too busy with the Mayor. Put my megrims down to spending too long alone with no certain knowledge.’
Not quite true but he would enjoy informing me of his own experience.
Thomas took the cup of wine, raising a little toast at last with a show of grace. ‘I’ll tell you what I know, for what it’s worth, but it’s not pretty. York headed to Gloucester, we thought to join up with Richard when he returned from Ireland, and together they would deal with Lancaster.’
Thomas scowled.
‘But that didn’t happen,’ I prompted.
‘It didn’t happen. York went to Berkeley Castle where he just sat on his arse. When Lancaster advanced west against Richard, when your father could have stood in his way, York did nothing other than meet him in the church outside the walls of Berkeley Castle.’
‘And what was the outcome?’ I took a low stool at his feet and sipped.
The damask rippled in a shrug. ‘York agreed to let Lancaster proceed against Richard. And by doing that he sealed Richard’s fate.’
I watched him, absorbing the underlying anger which in effect matched my own. Beneath the brutal self-seeking that governed his every action was a man of some ability, acting as one of Richard’s trusted lieutenants in Ireland. At Court he had been one of Richard’s close coterie of friends. Now his past loyalties had put him in danger; his whole future could be in doubt unless he was clever enough to extricate himself from the coming conflict of Lancaster against Richard. From Lancaster’s inevitable victory.
My future would be in doubt too.
‘So you are saying that all we can do is wait.’ I was becoming as repetitive as a well-trained popinjay.
‘But we will use the waiting well, and make plans.’ Thomas leaned forward. ‘Are you going to welcome me home?’ His hand closed around my wrist to pull me to my knees, close enough to plant a kiss on my lips, a possessive gesture rather than an affectionate one. ‘I could have died in Ireland. Did it cross your devious Yorkist mind that today you might be a widow?’
I was well used to retaliation. ‘Yes, it did. But you obviously survived to return to my welcoming arms.’
‘Would it have been a blessing if I had fallen into an Irish bog?’
I considered his polished presence. ‘There are no signs of battle on you. Did you actually fight?’
‘Do you brand me a coward?’
I did not flinch from his regard. No, I would never so condemn him. Lacking courage he was not. Thomas had been given command of the rearguard of Richard’s army. And not only was he capable with sword and lance, but he had proved to be equally skilled in negotiation. He had been sent to bring the King of Leinster to terms. It had not been his fault that he had failed, so I understood.
‘Would I openly brand the father of my children as coward?’ I replied in all fairness.
