Chapter 29 #3
‘He came and offered it to me, and I accepted, because it was a thousand pounds of gold and it was mine anyway, so why should I not have it back? I bore in mind how useful it would be. Lyons is in a dungeon for now to teach him a lesson, and meanwhile I have a barrel of gold that may well pay your debtors. As you said, we both know each other’s failings, and one of those has been lack of astuteness with money. ’
Edward let his father’s words pass over him. He lacked the strength for riposte and argument. ‘And I ask you to protect Jeanette and my son, who is now your heir. He has much growing and learning to do. I wish you to guide him and acknowledge him as your successor too.’
‘Of course it shall be done – that is understood. He is your son and my cherished grandson. You need have no fear for his future.’
But Edward did fear for Richard’s future. The world was dangerous and full of predators. It would take a strong, wise personality to deal with it all, and Richard was but a malleable twig, not yet even a branch.
‘And my Jeanette,’ he said. His strength was fading and his vision blurring at the edges.
His father’s eyes narrowed, and Edward gripped his hand.
‘No, hear me. You and Jeanette have never been at ease with each other, but my mother loved her dearly, and I love Jeanette the way you loved my mother. You have seen her care for me . . .’ He paused to rally his failing breath.
‘You have seen what we mean to each other. Those who told you she was only using me for influence and gold, and that she had no notion of how to care for me, they were wrong and often full of malice. She has been true through thick and thin – to the very end. Whatever has gone before between you and her, I want you to promise me on your oath you will protect her and not force her into another marriage when I am gone.’
His father regarded him wearily. ‘I cannot fault her love and regard for you,’ he said. ‘Perhaps I have been hard on her because I know she has a propensity to go her own way and not listen to sense.’
‘She has been the love of my life . . . and she has a true knowledge of wrong and right. People recognise her goodness, and they love her whatever their status.’ He closed his eyes, fighting exhaustion.
‘Promise me you will be gentle with her. You will find her loyal and trustworthy. As the mother of my son, and England’s future heir, she deserves her place – indeed more so than certain others. ’
‘If that is your wish, I shall do as you ask. Richard is the heir to England, and I shall keep him safe, and that means keeping his mother safe too. I also promise not to give her hand to another man . . . although God help that man if I did. But by the same token, she must swear not to marry again without my consent. I would not wish her to set her eye on someone who might harm the kingdom through ambition.’
Edward glared at his father but was too weak to fight.
It was taking all his will just to do this.
‘That shall be known, but it will not happen. It will never happen. Let this all be set down before witnesses as soon as possible.’ He looked at his father.
‘A man may not choose his dying day, but my body still breathes upon my bones. Even at the end I am tenacious.’ He closed his eyes and was aware of the stir of air as his father stood up.
He felt his shadow over him and a whiskered kiss on his brow, the grip of a thin hand over his own fingers, and then withdrawal.
He wandered off into dreams of forests and a running white doe.
Part of him wished for more time, but it was the lesser part.
The rest was desperate to end this inability to act and be the man he wanted to be.
In three days’ time it would be the anniversary of his birth, and his final prayer to God was that he be allowed to die on that same day, and fittingly.
In the morning, Edward’s wishes were witnessed in document form by his family and members of the clergy, gathered around his bed. His father and his brother John swore upon the Bible to care for Jeanette, and to support Richard in his right as heir to the throne.
Jeanette brought Richard to sit with him on the eve before the feast of the Holy Trinity, and everyone drew away to give them a moment alone.
‘Be a good boy for your mother,’ Edward whispered. ‘Listen to your tutors and give of your best in all you do. Remember that your grandsire is a great king, and I have always striven to be chivalrous and to serve. I can do it no more – it is your turn to carry that flame.’
Round-eyed, Richard nodded.
‘You have all my love and all my blessings,’ Edward said. ‘I wish I could stay to see you become a man, but it is not to be. I am glad for what I have shared in your life, and I hope I have made at least some small difference.’
Richard departed with his tutor Sir Simon Burley, who had been waiting in the background, and Jeanette was left alone with Edward, for what she knew was probably the final time.
She had sat with him for several days in this chamber now, holding his hand and talking to him.
More often than not he had been asleep, but sometimes he had squeezed her hand in reply, and she knew he had been listening.
Now he turned his head towards her. His complexion was yellow, and the effort to draw breath and speak was torturous.
‘So, we come to it,’ he whispered. ‘Have a care to yourself, to my son, and stand firm, as I know you will. To my shame I have sometimes underestimated your strength, but I do not now.’
Jeanette felt sick and wretched, but she concealed her emotions. Edward needed to believe in her, and she would uphold his trust. ‘All shall be done as you wish, I promise,’ she said steadily.
He smiled, and gripped her fingers. ‘I have loved you, and you have been my greatest treasure and solace. That would not have changed even if I had lived another twenty years and more . . . promise you will visit me every summer on tomorrow’s feast and lay a chaplet of fresh white roses on my tomb. ’
Jeanette swallowed hard. ‘Of course I shall. And remember you with love and honour all my days.’
‘Then I am content.’ He paused to gather breath. ‘Your charge now is Richard . . . I wish . . . I wish it could have been different . . . I wanted to bring you joy not grief.’
‘I have had joy,’ she answered steadily, ‘more than you know, so I tell you now. If grief is the price, then I willingly pay it. Rest now. I am here – I shall not leave your side.’
He closed his eyes, and his chest shuddered.
He was propped up on pillows, labouring to breathe.
Jeanette watched him and suppressed her tears.
That it should come to this . . . She would now have two tombs to visit: one in Stamford, one in Canterbury.
He had planned his meticulously and desired a magnificent effigy clad in full armour with his accoutrements hung above his tomb.
And around the sides of his monument, a verse declaring ‘As thou art, once the world saw me; as I am, thou in time shall be’.
So much detail, because it was something he could control, and it would be the part of him that remained in the world when he had gone.
A place where those who knew him could look upon his effigy and remember him as he had been in his prime.
A source of inspiration for his son. Everything would be arranged to his wishes, even how the funeral cortege would travel to Canterbury.
He had planned every detail exactly like one of his military campaigns – how his warhorses would be caparisoned with his blazon, and how knights would ride in his armour and lead the procession through the town to the cathedral, carrying his banners.
Later, his brother John arrived to sit with him and Jeanette rose to attend to her bladder and eat.
‘It will not be long,’ she murmured to him, careful to speak so that Edward did not hear.
He rubbed her arm. ‘I will sit with him for a while,’ he said. ‘Go and take some rest.’
She nodded wearily. ‘Summon me immediately if there is a change. I want to be with him, even if he does not know I am there.’
‘Of course. So should we all have such love and attention at our ending.’
She retired to her chamber and her attendants brought her sustenance.
Her appetite, missing all day, had returned with a vengeance, and when the food arrived she devoured every morsel and drank two cups of wine.
But it was not enough. A hollow place inside her still demanded to be filled, and since Edward could no longer eat, she ate in his stead.
Richard arrived while she was at her meal and food was brought for him too.
He dined with a good appetite, but with refined and precise manners.
Like her, he appreciated the textures and flavours of the venison pie and piquant sauce.
He chattered to her about the hawk he had been training in the mews, and for a while he drew her away from her cares and from what was chasing them with the speed of a tireless, galloping horse.
She loved hawking but it seemed a lifetime since she had visited the mews or flown her falcon, and Richard’s enthusiasm brought a pang to her heart and made her smile at the same time.
But when the meal was finished, so was the interlude, and she had to return to her cares.
‘Your father has not been well today,’ she said. ‘Soon we may have to bid him farewell for the final time. You must be ready to be a man and take your part.’