Chapter 30 #2
‘I do not mind if they stay to hear what I have to say,’ he said bitterly. ‘After all, it is no secret.’
‘They would not understand, sire, and better to let them have a moment of childhood. There are burdens enough in this room already,’ Jeanette answered calmly.
‘Say what you will to me as Edward’s widow, and to your son, who is acting in your stead to govern the country, but leave the children as innocents for now. ’
Frowning, he leaned on his stick, eased to his feet and turned back towards the window.
His gaze fixed upon a cushion lying on the window seat, made from violet silk embroidered with small golden squirrels.
‘Philippa stitched this,’ he said. ‘I remember her working on it in this very place. She made it from spare cloth, from her first churching robes after Edward was born. I can still see her hand, so young and smooth, creating the stitches. Dear God, how I miss her, and the time we spent so profligately, thinking we had for ever, and now all our wealth has gone. I would give anything to have her back and to have that time again . . .’
‘I miss my mother too,’ John said. ‘I am sorry she is not here to see her grandsons grow up.’
His father’s jaw worked. ‘And now you take from me my other solace, my Alice, and accuse her of all manner of malicious things that I know cannot be true.’
‘I have done no such thing, sire,’ John said, shortly.
‘You deny that you forced her banishment?’
‘I had no choice,’ John said. ‘The Commons would not grant any of our needs without that stipulation. They said if you could afford to pay her three thousand pounds a year and keep her in silks and jewels as well as helping her to secure grants and privileges, you had no business asking them for money.’
‘And what of your income and gifts to Mistress Swynford?’ the King lashed out.
‘The issue was between you and Parliament,’ John replied with laboured patience.
‘And it is not as if Mistress Swynford has been associating with the Warden of the Mint or your chancellor and others, arranging loans of her own initiative from your treasury. Mistress Perrers has serious charges to face. And Mistress Perrers is nothing like my mother – you have been leaning on a false prop.’
His father flushed with anger. ‘You do not know what Alice has given to me,’ he snapped.
‘All you see is what you want to see. I have a vast hole in my heart where your mother dwelt. I can never have her back, nor Edward, nor the children we lost through the years. But Alice is still alive, and so are her children – my children, and therefore your own half-brother and sisters – yet you deny me the right to see them. I am the King! What if you were told you could never again see Mistress Swynford or the children she has borne to you? What if the Church and those who answer to you denied your right and were aided and abetted by your own kin in that decision? What would you do?’ His voice had risen as he spoke, and people were looking round.
‘You would take up your sword for a certainty!’
‘Sire, I—’
‘I want her back.’ His voice cracked. ‘I want Alice back, do you hear me? Just because I am too unwell to attend Parliament does not mean I shall be ridden over roughshod.’
John’s face was a blank mask. ‘Sire, I understand you well. You have spoken very clearly.’
‘Good, then see to it.’ His father folded his hands over his walking stick. ‘May this day never come to you as it has come to me.’
John said nothing, for there was no answer to make that would not commit to a promise he could not keep.
Jeanette sought to ease the moment by changing the subject and coming to sit at her father-in-law’s side. She patted his hand. ‘It grieves me, sire, that you are not well enough to come to Canterbury but be assured that all shall be as Edward planned.’
The King frowned, and she thought he was going to continue to protest about Alice, but his focus altered, and he looked at her. ‘You were a good wife to my son,’ he said almost grudgingly, ‘and Philippa was fond of you.’
‘I loved both of them dearly, sire.’
‘Then if you understand love, you will help me,’ he said, making it clear that he had not changed tack at all.
‘Sire, it is always my duty to help you,’ she replied diplomatically. Keeping Alice Perrers away from him would indeed be of great assistance to everyone.
‘You do not care for my Alice either, do you?’
‘My care was for my husband,’ Jeanette said, ‘as it is now for your grandson. Mistress Perrers does not fall within that duty. Certainly I do not cherish her, but I do cherish you as Edward’s father and the grandfather of my son.’
He grunted, and turned to look out of the window. ‘An answer that is no answer but tells me much.’
She and John left soon afterwards, for there was no more to say. It was obvious the King was in no condition to ride to Canterbury, and too encased in his own bleak misery to engage with anything. His bereavement had turned inwards, and his attention was fixed on the loss of his mistress.
‘What are we to do about Alice Perrers?’ Jeanette asked John as they waited for her carriage to be brought. The boys were busy watching the arrival of a cart filled with pipes of wine.
John looked thoughtful. ‘Nothing, until we have gathered more information. Mistress Perrers is heartily disliked by the Commons, and I know Edward loathed her.’
‘He saw what she was doing to your father – how she was manipulating him and others and making a fortune for herself by cheating and embezzlement. Whatever she desired, she only had to whisper in your father’s ear.’
‘Indeed. She can never be allowed to perpetuate that kind of manipulation again. But when I see my father’s condition – so enfeebled that he cannot journey to Canterbury to attend the burial of his own son and heir – I am moved to pity when he talks of the grief and loneliness in his heart.’
Jeanette stared at him. ‘You think she should be restored to him? Surely you do not! She will be twisting him round her fingers within minutes of her return.’
John tugged on his beard. ‘I know she will, but nevertheless I must think on it. The Commons are right to complain and there has indeed been corruption at the heart of the country’s finances.
But harsh damage has been done to my father’s prerogative.
He has been forced to yield, and that has made him look weak.
Should he improve, he will not forgive the Commons.
If he does not improve . . . well, perhaps he should have Alice with him for the time he has left.
What harm can she do now that her schemes have been uncovered? ’
‘That I do not know,’ Jeanette said, unsettled by his ambivalence. ‘I would put nothing past her. Your brother would be horrified to see her restored to your father.’
‘Are you so sure about that?’
‘Poison, even if it tastes sweet, is still poison. She has been allowed to keep so many of her gains already, including your mother’s jewels. She has no need of further privileges.’
‘I know that, but I understand my father’s viewpoint, and I sympathise with his need. At the least it is something to think upon.’
Jeanette shook her head but bit her tongue. With his own mistress dwelling at the Savoy, keeping him sane, she understood his reluctance, but Alice in proximity to the King was fiscally dangerous.
John said thoughtfully, ‘Do you know William de Wyndsore?’
‘Not well,’ she said. ‘Enough to be aware that he and Alice Perrers are friends when he is at court.’ Jeanette usually avoided him because the oil he used to control his bushy hair and beard always smelled rancid and unpleasant, worsened by the addition of spices worked over the top.
The memory made her wrinkle her nose. He had been sent to govern Ireland and had returned in disgrace for brutal mismanagement.
Indeed, he had been cast into gaol but released four days later. ‘What of him?’
‘He’s been seen with Mistress Perrers at her house on Thames Street, that is all.’
‘You think she has taken up with him?’ Jeanette could not prevent a shudder.
John shrugged. ‘They have been friends for a long time, and she has lent him money before now.’
‘You mean she is putting a new horse in the stable because the accustomed one has been taken away?’
‘Perhaps,’ John said. ‘Although it is early days for her to be doing that, and he may be the one who has gone to her. If there is a chance of her regaining her place at my father’s side, she will not jeopardise it by taking a new lover.’
‘And is there a chance?’ Jeanette eyed him narrowly.
John looked away.
‘I see,’ she said.
‘No,’ he replied, ‘you do not see. My father is still the King, and I must tread a careful line. I have sworn to protect you and Richard as the heir to the throne, but I am also sworn to my father, who begot me.’ He grimaced.
‘I do not know what will happen. For now, Alice Perrers remains banished, the King is unwell, and my brother is about to be buried. The situation might be very different in a month’s time. I shall keep careful watch.’
‘I hope you do.’ She nodded once, firmly, to mark her will and, calling to Richard, turned to her travelling carriage.
Once settled within, she watched John gather the reins of his muscular grey palfrey and issue orders to his knights – brisk, efficient, collected.
His son was riding his small bay horse, and he spoke to him too and patted his shoulder.
His statement about Alice Perrers had made her uneasy for she realised how precariously the future was balanced – like stacked barrels on a cart that could be upset by a single jolt.