The Queen's Choice

What a masterpiece of insensitivity. Of cold discourtesy. Of humiliation directed at a son of so noble and royal a family. It was beyond belief that such a rebuttal should have been made, when Duke Henry had been received and feted for so many weeks at the royal court. And announced by the Duke of Burgundy no less, and so publically. A wall of held breath seemed to hem us in.

‘So now we know what this was all about,’ John murmured at my side.

‘Yes.’

My throat was as dry as the dust motes glinting in the stale air. My heart bled for the Duke. Every inch of him was governed, his voice evenly controlled, now addressing the King rather than Burgundy.

‘I am no traitor, Sire. If any man here charges me with treason I will answer him in combat. Now, or at whatever time the King may appoint.’

‘No, cousin.’ It was Charles who replied. ‘I do not believe you will find a man in all of France who will challenge your honour. The expression my uncle saw fit to use comes from England, not from us.’

‘From England?’

And there, in the two words, was the anger in him, the sheer fury, burning hot beneath his denial.

‘We have had an embassy. From your cousin, King Richard.’ Charles’s gaze once again slid away, his words as slippery as his expression. ‘He advised that no marriage should be contemplated with a man under the burden of treachery against his King.’ He paused. ‘But rest assured. We will stand as your friend—until better times. We will not cast you off entirely. We hope that you will one day prove your innocence.’

But you will question his integrity before the whole court, I thought. It could not have been plainer. All eyes were on Henry. Deny it, I willed him. Argue the rightness of your cause. But of what value would that have been?

Henry knew it too. With stark elegance he sank to his knees before the King, head bent in submission. ‘Then may God preserve my friends and confound my enemies!’ He could not hide the bitterness, but Charles chose to ignore it, waving to him to rise.

‘We will talk of marriage again. But first you must obtain your inheritance, for it will be necessary for you to make provision for your wife before we can move forward.’ Charles beamed as if he had hit on the perfect way to rid himself of this uncomfortable situation. ‘You will understand, my lord. When your inheritance is secure, return to our Court, and we will listen to you again.’

Which left Duke Henry no path to take but one of acceptance. Turning, his gaze swept over the ranks of avid courtiers who slavered over his every word, like a pack of hunting dogs scenting its prey; lingered on the Duke of Berry and his lovely daughter who looked anywhere but at Henry; touched on the frowning figure of the Duke of Burgundy. And then they rested on me, but momentarily, with what message I could not read, while I tried to wish him courage.

‘My thanks, Sire,’ was all he said. ‘I am grateful for your forbearance. And for that of your tolerant Court.’

Without a further acknowledgement of those present, Henry did what I knew he would do. He bowed with grace and walked from the room. And as if this ultimate degradation of one of its number had never occurred, the Valois Court again broke into conversation and laughter; hard and callous and unfeeling.

Anger drove out all other thoughts from my mind. ‘Could it have been done no other way?’ I demanded of John, sotto voce.

‘It was not tactful. Burgundy is never tactful.’ He took my arm. ‘I think we had better rescue our protégé from the depths of despair.’

I had seen anger. But despair?‘But the King absolved him of treason. Didn’t he?’

John’s flat brows said it all. There had been no absolution here, only a cowardly sidestepping of the issue. But first things first.

‘I have need of a moment with my cousin,’ I said.

I could not leave it like this. Calmly smiling, answering greetings as I went, I was at Mary’s side, wasting no time in fine words.

‘You knew, didn’t you? You knew what was planned here. You knew it would strip his pride from him. How could you not warn him of this little conspiracy to humiliate him and damage his reputation for honesty and integrity beyond repair.’

‘What is it to you?’ There was undoubtedly guilt from the set of Mary’s fine jaw to the clench of her hands into inelegant fists. ‘What could I have done?’

‘Could you not have warned him?’

‘I was told not to discuss it.’

‘So you let him go into that bear pit unprotected. To be torn apart by the dogs.’

Mary tilted her chin. ‘Duke Henry needed no protection from me.’

‘He deserved to know that he would be proclaimed traitor before the whole Court!’

There was high colour in her cheeks. ‘It’s a marriage I’m well out of. If a man feels threatened, his judgement can be impaired.’ Her eyes flitted over my face. ‘What I don’t understand is why you should take me to task. What is he to you?’

‘He is a friend.’ I would not be discomfited. ‘Friends should be treated with honour.’

Her mouth twisted. ‘You are very hot in his defence, Joanna.’

‘And you are cold for a woman who, yesterday, was not averse to marriage.’

‘Such heat, my dear Joanna, is unbecoming and could be misconstrued.’

Here was danger. ‘I know the value of friendship,’ I replied, smooth as the silk of my girdle. Yet gratitude was strong as John appeared at my side to rescue me, saying:‘My wife is supportive of Duke Henry, for my sake. The family is very much in my heart. We take it ill when his good name is blackened for no reason.’

Mary, a little flushed at the mild chastisement, bit her lip, while I withdrew into icy civility. Perhaps I had been intemperate but injustice could not be tolerated. If I had known as she did, I would have done all in my power to protect him.

‘Forgive me, Mary, but it was not well done. Not at all.’

‘Would you have disobeyed your father? I doubt it.’

‘I might well if I thought it honourable. You are no longer a child. You have a right to your own thoughts on these matters.’

Mary turned away, leaving me to explain my intemperance to John, who was regarding me with some irony.

‘Well, that put Mary firmly in her place, didn’t it?’

‘It had to be said.’

‘But perhaps not so furiously.’

‘I thought I was very restrained.’

‘Then God help us when you are not.’

*

In the aftermath, Henry bore the affront to his dignity with a fortitude stronger than any I had ever witnessed, even knowing that it was King Richard who, in the name of his little Valois wife, had dispatched an ambassador, the Earl of Salisbury, festooned with seals and letters of credence, demanding that Charles rescind his offer of marriage and sanctuary. Duke Henry accepted the judgement with nerve-chilling control.

‘My father’s loyalty to the English Crown, and mine, is beyond debate. This is how Richard repays me, making me persona non grata in every Court of Europe. A political liability.’ He was pale, as if he had suffered a blow from a mailed fist, but his delivery was eloquent. ‘I have been conspicuously loyal to him for ten years, since the Lords Appellant set his feet on the path to fair government. I have done everything in my power to support my cousin. Now he destroys my good name, hounding me when I could have made a temporary life for myself here in France. My every motive, my principles, every tenet of my life—all now suspect. So Charles will think again of the marriage, when I have come into my inheritance? Before God, he will not!’

Which summed it up succinctly, as cold and crisp as winter ice beneath the tumult in his eyes. Duke Henry glowered like a thunder cloud about to break and deluge us all.

‘Richard considers me a traitor, worthy of banishment. How can the courts of Europe cast that aside, as an accusation of no merit? I know that Charles has tolerated me because of my Lancaster blood, and you too because of past friendships, but unless I can clear my name there will always be rank suspicion hanging over me. And how can I clear my name? Until I can return to England and take my place again as heir to Lancaster with Richard’s blessing, there is no hope for my restitution. And I think I will never have Richard’s blessing. He has covered it well over the years with smiles and gestures of friendship, but he despises the air I breathe.’

Henry had understood from the beginning the insecurity of his position. He might have been lured into believing he could make a home here and wait out the empty years with French support and a French wife, but I thought he had never truly believed that. He had always envisaged this ending. Now his masterly summing up left neither John nor I with anything to say. As he faced the uncertain future, I admired him more than I dared admit. A proud man driven to his knees. A man of honour forced to accept the charge, and bear it, because there was no evidence that he was not a traitor. What would his denial weigh against the conviction of King Richard?