Westminster Palace, Spring 1428 #3
‘I should think everyone has heard it. The women petitioned parliament and mentioned my name. They slandered me.’
‘Eleanor – I am so sorry. They speak very ill of me; I will have anyone arrested that speaks out.’
‘It’s a very grave matter to me,’ I tell him, looking sombre. ‘Not just that I should have a slur against my good name, but that everyone is saying it. You can’t arrest a hundred women who have signed a petition. I have no defence against a mob.’
‘I’ll challenge any man who says such a thing in my hearing!’
‘I know you will.’ I show him a sad little smile.
‘No man would dare say such a thing in your hearing! But I’m being slandered by women.
My lord, all I have in the world is my good reputation.
The things they are saying against me – even writing against me – make my name a byword for shame, though I’ve done nothing but serve my lady as she ordered. ’
‘I know it!’ he says. ‘We’re both blamed for Jacqueline of Hainault’s failings! I saw your loyalty myself! I can make an announcement in parliament?’
I shake my head. ‘You know I don’t seek fame of any sort.
I don’t want anything more said about me.
I don’t want an announcement in parliament.
I just want you to confirm quietly that my name is a good one and my reputation is unstained.
’ My voice breaks on a little sob, and I hold my sleeve up to hide my face.
‘My father won’t receive me home if I am named as a whore! ’
He blinks in shock at my words. ‘Your father knows of this?’
‘If he doesn’t know yet, he soon will, and I should think the shame will kill him.’
He gets up from the table and goes to the window to look out. ‘I will explain to him. There must be something we can do! There must be some way to defend you.’
‘I should have a husband to defend me. Only a husband could silence everyone. If I were to marry a good man, everyone would know that I am innocent of any wrongdoing.’
He nods. ‘Yes, yes. It would answer everything. He would vouch for you. Have you had a proposal? Has your father made any arrangement for you?’
‘I have no dowry to speak of,’ I tell him. ‘My father cannot help me. Of course, my lady promised me a very good sum when she came to her own, but I can’t count on that now. My breeding is as good as anyone’s in the country, but I’m unlucky in my family wealth.’
‘The countess promised to reward you?’
I nod. ‘Of course, my loss is nothing to hers,’ I say, remembering Margery Jourdemayne’s sharp reminder. ‘I can’t even think of the loss of my name when she is fighting for her life and she has lost you.’
‘Oh, she’ll make a treaty,’ he says confidently. ‘She’ll find her way out of this. She’ll manage on her own. And then she’ll reward you. I know she’ll keep her word to you.’
I have to grit my teeth not to snap at him. ‘But I can’t wait for that,’ I point out. ‘I have no dowry because of her misfortune and no reputation because I obeyed her. I should never have come home with you, but she ordered me to.’
‘She should compensate you!’
‘Of course, she has funds in England . . . I have collected her allowance from the treasury for her for all this time . . .’
‘Well, take that!’ he decides. ‘That’s justice. Summary and firm – that’s my justice, Eleanor.’
‘I thank you, my lord. But still, it doesn’t solve the scandal of my name? It gives me a dowry – but no husband.’ I am about to steer him towards the idea of a good marriage, but he is ahead of me.
‘Yes, of course. My master of horse is newly married, or I would have suggested him for your husband.’ He thinks aloud.
‘My squire’s too young for a lady of your position .
. . But what . . . what about Owen ap Maredudd?
He’s a single man; he’s always been loyal to me; he’s in royal service now, certain to rise, but he’d still oblige me in a matter like this .
. . and why should he not? D’you think well of him?
The dowager queen trusts him above any other servant, doesn’t she? ’
‘She does,’ I agree slowly. ‘And he’s always been courteous and kind to me.’ I can feel the heat growing in my cheeks at the thought of him, and I turn away so that the duke cannot see the joy in my face. ‘But does he want a wife?’
‘He’d jump at a wife like you!’ Humphrey laughs.
‘You’re far above him – he’s a Welshman!
He’s got no rights to own land or bear weapons in England.
This’ll be the making of him! I’ll offer him denizenship – he can become an Englishman on his marriage to you.
And he likes you . . . What man wouldn’t want you, with a little fortune, and high in favour? ’
‘Should I write to my father to tell him to make arrangements?’ I ask. ‘Though he is old and doesn’t know how . . .’
‘I’ll tell ap Maredudd myself,’ he says cheerfully. ‘We’ll see him at Hertford Castle; he’ll be in attendance on the king. We can announce the betrothal, you can marry in the chapel, and I’ll dance at your wedding.’
I curtsey. I keep my eyes down; I know they are blazing with triumph. ‘As you wish, Sire. I will be honoured.’