Chapter 32 #2
‘Thank God you were able to escape,’ she said, ‘but they know you have come here, and now they will be hammering on my door demanding I hand you over.’
‘The Londoners trust you,’ John said. ‘They have all the love for you and Richard they lack for me. You will be safe. At first light we shall row on to Sheen to the King. He must settle this account!’
Jeanette gazed at the men, and while feeling sorry for them, she was furious, and also very aware of her power rising above theirs.
They had created their own difficulties and come to her for protection when usually it would be the other way round.
Men claimed to protect women, sometimes by locking them away, as she knew better than most, but quieter, diplomatic female strength was the true currency in a situation like this.
These men needed her to be the mother and the matriarch, as Queen Philippa had once been.
‘Indeed, you must go to the King,’ she said, ‘but be sure of yourself and do not provoke this situation further. If you set the Crown against the Londoners and their own bishop, you will make matters worse for everyone – including me and your nephew. They must know without a doubt they cannot perpetrate lies and insults, but it must be done with diplomacy. Casting tallow on burning coals does nothing but create flames.’ She fixed them all with a hard stare.
‘You shall be safe here and I undertake to protect you. But the blaze must be quenched, and quickly. I do not want a mob of angry Londoners smashing down my door and neither do you. John, for the love of God, do not seek to settle this by obstruction. All our lives may depend on it.’
‘You are right – as you so often are,’ John admitted with a grimace. ‘But I must settle this score myself because it is on my account.’
‘No,’ she said firmly, but with compassion. ‘We shall survive this together, but we must decide what to do together too. Yes, go to the King but let me deal with the Londoners. I will make an approach – they will listen to me. I have a rapport with them, and they will not attack a skirt.’
‘What do you have in mind?’ John asked, raking one hand through his damp hair.
Sense had returned to his eyes; she was no longer dealing with a man half mad with fury and vengeful fear.
‘I shall send my own knights unarmed to speak to their leaders on behalf of myself and Richard and say how concerned we are. My men shall take gifts of food and other small tokens.’ She looked round at her knights who were gathered in the chamber, listening.
‘Aubrey de Vere and Lewis Clifford shall go, and Master Burley. I trust their awareness and good sense to make a case for peace.’
‘Assuredly, madam,’ said Burley with a bow. ‘What do you wish us to say?’
Jeanette drew herself up in Edward’s chair.
‘Say that I understand the concerns of the Londoners, and that I love them, as I hope they love me and will heed what I have to say as the wife of Prince Edward and the mother of their future king. Tell them I remember their many kindnesses to me and my beloved husband, and I have great faith in their common sense and goodwill, but that disputes are dangerous and lead to higher unrest than a contained argument. I would hate to see wider destruction come from what began as a difference of opinion. I pray them to let the heat of anger die down and the quarrel be attributed to lost tempers. Be certain to emphasise that I have sent you as my authority to quench the fire – that it is my will, and mine alone, that drives this. I take no side, and no one is putting words into my mouth. My lord of Lancaster is the Prince’s beloved brother and uncle of my son, and I trust him; the Londoners are most dear to me too, and I am distressed to see each set against the other.
Let no more damage be done to people, property or dignity. ’
‘Yes, madam, and I applaud your wisdom,’ said Burley.
Jeanette summoned a scribe and had a version of what she had said written down and impressed with her seal.
‘Go unarmed,’ she reiterated. ‘I trust you to conciliate. Wear my livery conspicuously and emphasise that, for my sake and that of my son, there should not be violence for it only breeds more.’
‘What then, my lady?’ Burley asked.
Jeanette thought for a moment. ‘There have been serious breaches on their part too. The King, the former Queen and my lord of Lancaster have been deeply insulted, and these scurrilous rumours cannot go unpunished. But it is not for me to follow that tonight. Let them await a summons to the King and let the matter be decided and reconciled there – that is the proper thing to do. For now, our concern is to douse the fire.’
‘I trust those men with my life,’ Jeanette told John later when her envoys had departed and they were alone. ‘They will not fail us.’
‘I take your word for it,’ John said. ‘I am sure they are solid.’
‘The meat of the matter is that they are allied to me and known to the senior Londoners as my men, not yours. They shall know this prerogative comes from me. They will do it for love of me, of Richard, and their prince, not of you.’
John winced. ‘You make your point.’
‘I would advise you not to blaze into the Londoners again, even if you need to show your authority. A quarrel over doctrine is not worth the turmoil it brings in its wake. Be softer in your dealings. Bringing armed men to a clerical discussion is bound to heighten tension. Even now, I do not know if this is enough. They may yet choose to demand satisfaction of you.’ Jeanette strove to master her irritation.
He had overstepped himself in trying to impose his will on a situation that need never have arisen and thereby endangered herself and Richard.
‘Perhaps I should not have been so quick to take anger,’ he reluctantly agreed, ‘but it was not all from my direction. They carried the argument forward as much as I did, and if we had not managed to cross the river to you, we would be dead. And the remarks about my birthright are inexcusable.’
‘Yes, I know, and those matters must be settled.’
From his taut expression she knew she had gone as far as she could. He seldom took criticism well, and she suspected he had reined himself in because he was seeking her succour.
‘Katherine and my children are at the Savoy,’ he said. ‘If the mob goes on the rampage, I have only a few knights residing there. The doors are stout, but . . .’ He shut his mouth and compressed it to a thin line.
‘Is Johan among them?’ Jeanette tried to make the question pragmatic and not show her anxiety.
John nodded. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I left him with the others guarding the ladies.’
‘Then it is imperative for both our sakes that we resolve the matter and prevent the flames from spreading. It might be better once this episode is over to send Katherine out of London for a while, or bring her to me at Kennington.’
‘I will not be chased and dictated to by a mob.’
‘If you kick a dog, it will bite you,’ she said curtly.
‘And if you punish the dog, it will remember and turn on you again. Then you might take your knife to it and kill it, but what profit will you reap? Your dog, on which you relied for hunting, is dead and you are no happier for the revenge you have taken, and it was you who kicked the dog in the first place when you could have patted its head and brought it to order in a different way. If you feel you must do something tonight, organise my defences here. I hope they will not be needed, but if I am trusting my men to settle the Londoners, I also have faith in you to man my walls.’
He shot her a look of grudging admiration. ‘My brother was right to marry you,’ he said.
‘But was I right to marry him?’ Jeanette replied ruefully. ‘I loved him with all my heart, but sometimes I long for a quieter life than the one I live now.’
He snorted with dark amusement, but then put his face in his hands, shoulders hunched.
Despite herself, Jeanette felt a spark of sympathy.
He was the magnificent animal brought down and bedraggled by this assault on his position, his confidence and his manhood.
‘It is like walking across a rope bridge that will tip you into the water if you do not keep your balance,’ she said.
‘Even if your father passes judgement, he is not in his full mind, and we must still bear the weight. When the Londoners come to Sheen, you must be in control of yourself and the consequences. My men are risking their lives for me, for Richard and for you, as is my son in your service. Do not let us down.’
John lifted his head, and she saw temper, pride and common sense warring within him, and braced herself for a harsh retort.
The chamber door creaked open, and she turned to see Richard in his nightshirt, fair hair tousled, eyes wide, a short blanket half draped over one shoulder.
‘What is all the noise, Mama?’ he asked. ‘Why are all the candles lit?’
Jeanette left her chair and went to him. ‘Go back to bed, my sweetheart,’ she said. ‘It is only Uncle John. He has had a hard journey and needs to rest. He does not want to be bothered just now.’
‘May I not greet him?’
Jeanette started to refuse.
‘No, let him,’ John said.
She stood aside, and Richard ran barefoot to his uncle, who hugged him. ‘I would never willingly put you in danger,’ John said. ‘I hope you know that.’
Richard nodded and buried his curly blond head against John’s chest for a moment.
Although he often disliked being touched, he had always had a rapport with his uncle.
Indeed, the bond between them was perhaps one of the reasons he and his cousin Henry were hostile towards each other, with envy on both sides.
John patted Richard’s back and gently pushed him away. ‘Go back to bed now,’ he said. ‘Sleep well.’
‘Shall I see you in the morning?’
‘Yes,’ John said. ‘You will, I promise.’
Richard’s interruption had reset the moment and smoothed the path.
John gestured to Jeanette with an open palm to show he had regained his balance, and Jeanette inclined her head in acknowledgement.
She saw Richard back to bed, tucked him in and kissed him, then returned to wait in her chamber – and pray.
Her representatives returned from their mission on the early morning tide with dawn rising over the palace grounds. The rain had stopped, but the air was misty and strongly scented with woodsmoke from domestic fires and industries along the riverbank.
‘Well,’ she said, as servants provided the men with food and drink, ‘you have returned, and you are whole at least which I hope augurs well. What do you have to report?’
Burley cleared his throat. ‘We gave them your letters and your words of goodwill and entreaty to the citizens asking them not to continue with the unrest, lest it spread and cause more harm. As you commanded, we emphasised it was your request on behalf of your son.’
‘Good, you did well. What did they answer?’
‘That they were sorry to learn of your distress as they have great love and respect for you as their princess and widow of their prince. They said they would come to the King at Sheen and agreed to refrain from pursuing the Duke of Lancaster and his companions – but said he should never have brought armed men to an ecclesiastical inquiry and threatened a bishop.’
John looked thunderous, but Jeanette shot him a warning look.
‘Then I shall thank them for their cooperation and let the matter be amicably resolved before the King. Do I have their assurances that the smears against the Duke of Lancaster’s lineage will cease?
Such slander is an offence to the good name of the King and of dear Queen Philippa especially so. ’
‘Madam, I have been assured this is the case and that those repeating the stories shall be brought to heel and punished.’
‘Good. I shall write again, thanking the citizens for their common sense and goodwill. And thank you to all of you for your stalwart service. I shall not forget it.’
‘Madam.’
The men retired to a trestle to eat their meal and Jeanette turned to John, who was still stony-faced.
‘You will have to make peace with Bishop Courteney, and with William Wykeham and the Londoners,’ she said. ‘I have extended the olive branch and they have taken it, but you must do your part.’
‘A good commander learns from his experiences and waits for the dust to settle so he can see clearly,’ John replied. ‘I am indebted to you for giving me that time and I always pay my debts to those whom I owe my duty and my love.’
He spoke formally, stiffly, and she could see what it was costing him to conciliate. She knew he always paid his vengeance too, to those he did not love, but she held her silence on that one.
‘You should go, then, to Katherine and your children,’ she said. ‘And then to Sheen, to your father, and make peace with the citizens, as they must also do with you.’