XIII
AT ROYAL WINDSOR
But the following day brought a change of plans. The King had heldcouncil with himself during the night; and in the morning there wentforth the word that in late July he would make a royal progress throughhis realm, and in the ancient town of York be crowned a second time.Of this purpose Richard had promptly informed the Queen at Westminster;and the same messenger who bore her answer bore also a letter from theCountess of Clare to Sir John de Bury, advising him that she would notgo North, as had been intended, but would wait and attend Her Majesty;explaining that not only could she thus make the long journey with notrouble to him and with more comfort to herself, but also that she wasmoved by the express desire of the Queen, who was loath to lose her.
Sir John straightway sought the castle, and De Lacy had small troublein persuading him to remain and ride back to Yorkshire with the King.That evening Aymer informed His Majesty that, on account of the neworders, he would not relinquish for the present his duties as Knight ofthe Body, and Richard smiled comprehendingly, but made no comment.
Three days later the Court moved to Windsor. On the morning after thearrival there, as De Lacy rounded the front of St. George's Chapel, hecame upon the Queen, attended only by the Countess of Clare. Heuncovered, and with a deep obeisance was passing on when the formeraddressed him.
"Sir Aymer," she said, and he halted and bowed low again, "methoughtyou had left us for distant Yorkshire. We are glad the information wasnot sound.--Are we not, Beatrix?" with a sly glance at her companion.
"Whatever pleases you pleases me," the Countess answered with a franksmile.
"And do you know, Sir Aymer," said the Queen, who was in a happy mood,"that the Countess of Clare had also proposed leaving us for CraigstonCastle . . . and, indeed, upon the very morning you had fixed to go?"
"What rare fortune to have met her on the way," said Aymer.
"Greater fortune, think you, than to be with her here at Windsor?"
The Countess looked at her mistress in blank surprise.
"Could there be greater fortune than to be where Your Majesty is inpresence?" Aymer asked.
"Where she is in presence at this particular moment, you mean?" takingBeatrix's hand.
"Your Majesty is hardly fair to Sir Aymer or to me," said the Countessquickly. "You draw his scanty compliments from him like an arrow froma wound--hurting him all the while."
The Queen laughed. "If all Sir Aymer's wounds hurt him no more, he islikely to know little pain."
"I know he is French-bred and a courtier," Beatrix answered.
"As you told me once before in Pontefract," De Lacy observed.
"And as I am very apt to tell you again when you are presumptuous andflattering."
"Henceforth I shall be neither."
"Charming, Sir Aymer, charming . . . if you could."
"I can."
"Till you meet another woman."
"It is not in the other woman that my danger lies."
Beatrix frowned, and the Queen laughed.
"The Countess seems to know your failings, Sir Aymer," she said, "andmay be this is a good time for you to know them, too. Nay, Beatrix,you need not accompany me. . . I am going to the Chapel. Do you takeSir Aymer in hand and bring him out of his French habits, since you donot like them. For my part, I think them very charming."
"Surely she loves you," said De Lacy, when the Queen had gone.
The Countess gave him her shoulder.
"She takes a queer way to show it then," she retorted, her foot beatinga tattoo on the stones.
He smothered a laugh. "Shall we walk?" he asked.
He got a shrug and a louder tattoo.
"Since the Queen has left me to your tender mercies," she said coldly,"I am at your service."
They walked in silence; he smiling; she stern-eyed and face straight tothe fore.
"Does it occur to you, my lady," he said after a while, "that you are abit unjust?"
The small head lifted higher . . . then presently, with risinginflection: "Unjust--to whom?"
"To the Queen."
"I am sorry."
"And unjust to me also."
No answer--only a faint toss of the ruddy tresses.
"And to me also," he repeated.
She surveyed him ignoringly--and turned away, eyebrows lifted.
De Lacy smiled and waited.
Presently she gave him a quick, sidelong glance. He was gazing idlytoward the river. . . Again she looked . . . and again--each time atrifle more deliberately. . . Finally she faced him.
"You are unusually disagreeable to-day," she said.
"I am sorry," he answered instantly. "I do not wish to be."
It was so contrary to what she had expected that she halted in sheersurprise.
"I wonder," she said musingly. . . "I wonder . . ." then she laughedforgivingly. "Come, let us cease this constant banter. We have beenat it ever since we met, and it profits nothing to our friendship."
"With all my heart," he exclaimed, taking her hand and pressing it withlight fingers.
She drew it away sharply.
"Do you think that a fitting way to begin?"
"Your pardon," he said softly; "I fear I did not think."
She looked at him with quick scrutiny.
"We islanders are not given to impulse, Sir Aymer, and do not trust itdeeply. I forgive you--but . . . not again."
"By St. Denis! I seem to blunder always," he said sadly. "I pleaseyou in nothing and am ever at fault."
"You are unjust to yourself," she protested. "You please me in much,and . . . you ought to know it;" then she blushed. . . "Let us go onthe terrace," and hurried across. . . "Now talk to me . . . not aboutme," she said rather curtly, as she sat down.
De Lacy was growing used to these swift shifts of humor, these flashesof tenderness, veering instantly to aloofness, and then back to ahalf-confidential camaraderie, that was alluringly delicious, yetirritatingly unsatisfying. At first he had tried to force thesituation to his own liking,--to break through her moods and effect anatmosphere more equable,--but she soon had taught him the folly of it,and never failed to punish when he forgot. This time she, herself, hadbroken through a bit, but that would only make his punishment theheavier.
At first the conversation was aimless and disconnected. De Lacy let itdrift and the Countess was rather distrait and steered it uncertainly.Presently she took a grip upon herself, and, before he realized it, hewas telling her of the French Court; of Louis the King, whom men called"The Fell," but who was, he said, the ablest of the Valois, and woulddo much for France--though not by the means then deemed mosthonorable,--being far ahead of his Age. He spoke of the brave, deadSt. Pol, the Constable--after Dunois, the greatest since Du Guesclin'stime. He told her of their palaces . . . of the life of their women,though he touched but lightly upon its loose gayety . . . of the cities. . . of the great domains whereon the noble had the "right of highjustice, the middle and the low," and indeed up until very lately haddone his own sweet will toward aught but the King, and in many casestoward the King himself. . . And at length he mentioned having seenand met Henry Tudor, Earl of Richmond, at the Court of Blois.Concerning him the Countess asked many questions, and Aymer answeredthem as best he could. He had not given the Earl much thought, nor hadhe offered him any attentions, for he was regarded as little more thanadventurer--though one with strangely plenty of money; and who wastolerated by the crafty Louis only because he might be useful some timeto play against the Yorkist King of England.
"Methinks there is more in the Tudor than you credit," said theCountess. "I have heard much of him, and from one who knows himwell--or did a few years since. He is not a brave Knight or skilledwarrior may be, but he has a certain shrewdness and determination whichwould make him a formidable rival for the Crown, if he were able tomuster a following or had an opportunity to arouse any enthusiasm forhis cause."
"And from what wise person did you learn all this
?" De Lacy asked withan amused smile.
"From the Countess of Northumberland."
"And whence comes her knowledge?"
"If you were not new to England you would not ask," said she. "HenryTudor was for years a prisoner of state in her father's castle ofPembroke. She knows him from daily companionship and should becompetent to judge. Indeed, as the Lady Maude Herbert, it is said shewas betrothed to him."
"Why did she marry Percy?"
"That, I can only guess. Her father fell at Edgecote; there were sixother sisters . . . and the great Earl came a-wooing. Besides,Richmond was in exile, had lost his patrimony and a price was on hishead."
"And she never loved him?" De Lacy asked.
"Nay, that I do not know; but she was very young, and if she did it wasnot likely a lasting passion. She seems happy enough as chatelaine ofTopcliffe."
"Doubtless--yet, nevertheless, there is another woman in England thanStanley's Countess who may be dangerous to Richard if Henry Tudor everseek an issue with him."
"You mean the Countess of Northumberland?"
"Aye. Percy wields huge power. He and the Stanleys together couldwell-nigh topple the throne. Lord Stanley no man trusts--and it was aPercy whose treason sent the Second Richard to his doom."
"Richard of Bordeaux was not Richard of Gloucester," she argued.
"In truth, no, but the conditions then were far more favorable to theKing. Believe me, wore I the Crown, these two women would give me moreconcern than all the nobles in my kingdom."
"What would you do if you _were_ King?" she asked, smiling.
De Lacy held up his hands. "Do! When I cannot control even one woman,I would make a merry mess with two and a kingdom besides."
Just then a horn spoke merrily from the courtyard and De Lacy sprang up.
"Richard is for a ride in Windsor forest and I must away," he said. "Iwould that you went, too."
"We do go," she said. "Let us haste or I shall be late to horse."
"May I ride with you?" he asked.
She nodded. "For a little way."
"Why not all the way?" he persisted.
"Because the King would object"--it was the flash of tenderness now.
"Nay, he would be quite satisfied," De Lacy answered unthinkingly.
She stopped short.
"Indeed!" she exclaimed frigidly; "well, I would not;" and turningabruptly, she entered a private passage and disappeared.
"Now the Devil take my foolish tongue," Aymer muttered, as the doorclanged behind her. . . Then the horn rang out again, and in vastdisgust and anger he hurried to his room and into riding dress.
But his haste made him awkward and he lost precious moments; and whenat length he rushed down the stairs and into the courtyard it was tosee Lord Darby swing the Countess of Clare into saddle and dash offbeside her.
De Lacy swore such a string of good round French oaths that the silentGiles Dauvrey was so startled from his wonted equanimity that for themoment he forgot to mount and follow, but stood watching his master inserious wonder, as Selim raced toward the gate.
However, anger would not mend the matter and good humor might, so heput on a smiling front. And when he presently neared the Countess andLord Darby he reined close beside her and cantered by with bonnetdoffed.
"I shall claim your promise presently," he said, his eyes seeking herface--though he doubted much if she would give it to him.
But her humor had veered again, and she answered with such a bewitchingsmile he was utterly bewildered, and for a time Selim went whither andhow he listed.
"May I ask what is the promise?" said Lord Darby.
The Countess raised her eyebrows in annoyed surprise.
"I promised to ride with him this morning."
"The promise is cancelled now."
"And why, my lord?"
"He was a sluggard at the start."
She bent forward and put aright a bit of Wilda's mane.
"Nay, sir, why should you wish him punished," said she lightly, "sinceit gives you a little of my society?"
He leaned suddenly over and laid his hand upon her arm.
"Will you not give it to me until the end of life?" he asked earnestly.
She gazed at him a moment in startled surprise--then laughed merrily.
"You said that with delightful promptness, my lord," she exclaimed."Practice makes one proficient, surely."
A cold light settled in Darby's eyes, and he straightened in the saddleand faced to the front.
"If a man be a gallant once, need that condemn his words to disbeliefforever?" he asked. . . "May not even the most confirmed trifler have,some time, an honest passion?"
"Doubtless, yes," she said, with a shrug of the shapely shoulders. . ."Only . . ."
"Only . . . only what?"
"Only that it is very rare and its proof requires strong demonstrationand long service."
"And I am ready to do both," he said eagerly.
"Then, one day, my lord, you will bring great joy to some lovingheart," she replied, looking him calmly in the eyes.
An awkward silence followed--that was not broken until Sir Aymer camegalloping back. With a familiarly courteous salute he swung Selimaround; and Lord Darby, seizing the opportunity, bowed low to theCountess, and with a menacing glare at De Lacy--who met it with acareless smile--he spurred away.
The Countess had observed Darby's look and she followed him with afrown . . . and De Lacy wisely kept silent.
"I am glad you came," she said presently--then pulled Wilda to a walk."Let us loiter; since we are late it is small matter when we reach therendezvous."
"Why reach it at all?" he asked.
She hesitated.
"Why not ride?" he persisted.
She looked at the horses thoughtfully . . . then shook her head. "Iwould far rather ride," she said, "but the Queen expects me; dutycalls."
"St. Denis! I had quite forgot--duty calls me, too."
But they did not take the horses from their walk, and it was far aftertime when they reached the wide open space in the forest, where theparty had assembled.
Upon one side were pitched three large silk pavilions; the center oneof red and blue--the colors of the Kingdom; the others, gold andblue--the colors of the House of York. In front and for a wide spacearound on the soft turf were spread the thick carpets of the far East.Before the tents paced two archers of the guard; and stationed at closeintervals around the clearing were a goodly force of those veterans,all of whom had been among the personal retainers of Richard when hewas Duke of Gloucester.
Not over two score of the Court had been bidden, and these wereclustered before the royal pavilion when De Lacy and the Countess rodeup. A volley of chaff greeted them as he lifted her from the saddle.One suggested that they had lost their way . . . another that it was ashame to bring in horses so utterly exhausted . . . another that theymust have stumbled on the Court by accident . . . another that therewas powder on De Lacy's sleeve. . . And so it went; until Beatrix, insheer desperation, gathered her skirts about her and fled into the tent.
The Queen was alone, resting on a couch in the inner apartment; but shehad heard the noisy greetings outside and had wondered who were thevictims. Beatrix's entrance and snapping eyes told her; and she mether with a smile of sympathy.
"Do not mind them, dear," she said. "They mean nothing and you havebeard a dozen others treated so, under similar circumstances."
"I know . . . I know . . . Your Majesty," she replied, with nervousenergy . . . "but it was most annoying . . . and with Sir Aymer."
"I doubt not he would give much to know that fact," said the Queen withan amused smile.
"It is because I fear he does know it that I am so vexed. By my faith,I have made a merry mess of it all through this morning."
"The merriest mess and the best you could make, my dear girl,"motioning her to a place on the couch, "would be to marry Sir Aymer deLacy."
The Countess gave a look of startled surp
rise--then dropped her head.
"And methinks," Anne went on, watching her closely, "that you are ofthe same mind. Take your Queen's word, aye, and your King's aswell--for Richard has spoken of it--and quarter the red chevrons withthe silver stag."
The Countess was slowly tracing figures on the carpet with her ridingwhip; and her mistress pressed on:
"You surely cannot hesitate from doubt of his affection. In a thousandways he shows you that. And certes you have had enough of suitors tobe able to weigh very scrupulously the faith they bring. He loves youhonestly. He is your equal in birth; and though his English title beinferior to yours, he is a Count in France. Why not, my dear Beatrix,be . . . kind to him?" and she put her arm about her.
"You are an earnest pleader, my dear mistress," said the Countess,still busy with the carpet . . . "and, may be, not without cause. . .Sir Aymer is all you aver . . . a braver Knight or truer heart I neverknew. . . And it would be false modesty to pretend I think he does notlove me. I did doubt it until lately, but the doubt has gone now.Were I as sure of myself as I am of him, I would hold him off not amoment longer--he might speak when he chose . . . and the quickestwould not be too quick for me . . . Indeed, sometimes I long for himwith eager heart; yet, when he comes, I grow weak in resolution andfrom very timidity give him only chilly words."
The Queen drew her a little closer. "I understand, dear," she said."It was so with me when my own dear lord came wooing."
"And how did you . . . change?" Beatrix asked, and blushed winsomely.
And Anne blushed, too. "Nay, I do not know. . . One day my heart methis words and all was peace and happiness."
The Countess sighed. "I wish it might be so with me," she said, andtears were in her voice; "for lately I have grown very lonely--andafter you, this man comforts me the most."
"My sweet Beatrix," said the Queen, "Sir Aymer has you safe enough,"and she put both arms around her and kissed her cheek.
And so, a moment later, the King found them; and with a smile, halfsympathy and half amusement, he said:
"Methinks, my dear, you and the Countess are wasting sadly your favorson each other. And I am acquainted with many a gallant Knight--but oneespecial--who would give his quarterings to be prisoner to her as youare at this moment."
Beatrix's cheeks and brow went rosy and in sharp embarrassment she hidher face upon the Queen's shoulder.
"Pardieu, my dear," said Richard, "I did not mean to distress you--yetsince I have said it, let me say a little more. As the Queen likesyou, so like I De Lacy, and I have given him these words: 'I make notthe match, but if you two wish it, none shall make it otherwise.' AndI give them now to you also. Nay, thank me not," as she arose andcurtsied low; "and while the match would please us well, yet it is ourpleasure to follow your desires. All we need is to know them, and thatin your own good time." And Richard took her hand and kissed it; thenflung aside the curtains and went out as abruptly as he had entered.