The Devil in Ermine Read online

  Of course, I still had to address the guilds and the Commons but what was concerning me as I rode home – drained yet high – to change my attire, was that this day was St John’s Eve. The streets would be full of bonfires, the Lord Mayor and his retinue would lead the procession and several thousand of the city watch would march in armour through London in a cresset-lit column carrying their weaponry. Since the watch was mainly made up of men who had seen service as soldiers, I was mighty edgy. If an armed rising was still in the offing, it would be tonight when there was no curfew and the entire city would be out carousing.

  It was past nine and still twilight when I arrived at Tamersilde. I wished I might innocently enjoy the evening; instead I found myself studying the other guests, wondering if any might prove traitors. Certainly, Howard and Huddleston had made sure plenty of our men-at-arms were discreetly positioned around the building but it was useless ordering that every window within bowshot be closed or expecting that the old London archers, who would be strutting past so proudly, should leave their bows and arrows at home on wallhooks.

  A goblet of wine made me feel better as I moved among the nobles and merchants but I still had a sense of danger. When Dame Juliana ushered me out to the balcony to join the Gloucesters, and I saw the bonfires being lit down the street, that sensation grew stronger.

  My cousin looked utterly unperturbed. He was a figure of much splendour in a murrey doublet embroidered with tiny golden lions and roses. A reliquary hung from the collar across his chest and a brooch shaped like the special cross of St John was pinned upon his hat. He greeted me cheerfully, delighted that the Lords had agreed to him taking the crown.

  We clinked goblets. ‘Set for tomorrow, Harry?’

  ‘Yes, so long as I do not lose my voice or drink too much of this.’ I swirled the wine. ‘You came prepared this time, I see.’ Just the glint of a rondel’s haft showed beneath his gold satin mantle.

  ‘What about you?”

  I lifted my hands from my belt. ‘Ah, I am expendable.’

  ‘Hardly,’ said Lord Howard at my elbow. ‘And God preserve your speechwriter too!’

  ‘I have not got a speechwriter, Jock. Half a dozen lawyers, yes, and Chancellor Russell read my notes through on Sunday night.’

  ‘Then you make a wondrous good job of it, Harry. More tomorrow, eh?’ He clapped me on the back and disappeared into the throng crowding the inner room.

  Anne, Richard’s duchess, came out with Lady Suffolk to join us and we kept the conversation light as the crowd grew thick beneath us. Above the gables, the night sky was spangled with sparks and we could not see the stars for the golden glow of bonfires. Thames Street was ablaze with lamps above the doorways and necklaced with candelabras hung on ropes between the gables.

  London was in reckless mood. The thatch might catch, skin might burn but so long as the tables buckled with firkins of ale and roast meats for passers-by, no one cared. Where we stood, the smoky air was overlain with the smell of flowers. Tamersilde’s balcony and every nearby sill were garlanded. Bunches of fennel, St John’s Wort, green birch and creamy lilies hung upon the balusters and adorned every front door in the street.

  ‘I wish your father were alive to know what has come to pass, Anne,’ I whispered to her as we helped ourselves to sweet pastries. ‘It was always his dream to see you crowned.’

  ‘Yes,’ she said wryly, dabbing her lips with a kerchief. ‘I am sorry that Mother did not come down with me but we did not know that Richard would be made king when I left Middleham.’

  ‘Nor did any of us, Anne. Thank God, England will be secure again. Stony Stratford was a close shave, believe me, and as for last Friday the Thirteenth…’

  ‘Yes, indeed.’ She gave a little shiver. Then smiling, set her palms upon my sleeves and stretched up on the tips of her toes to sweetly kiss my cheek. ‘Thank you, dear Harry, for all you have done for Dickon. Our Aunt Anne would have been so proud of you.’

  Ha! Grandam Buckingham, who told me to dissemble and bide my time. Grandam who did naught to save me from the Woodvilles. Nearly twenty fucking years, it had taken me to free myself.

  I straightened up, my cheeks kindling like a maiden’s. ‘It’s not quite in the bag, my lady. There are still the guilds and the Commons.’

  ‘Child’s play for you but— Oh, our almost-king wants us back on to the balcony.’ I offered her my arm but she delayed, looking down and letting her fingers pluck at the golden collar about her throat as though arranging the words before she spoke. Then she looked up at me through her fair lashes. ‘What I am stumbling to say is that some men can only conquer by causing bloodshed, but yesterday you conquered the lords of England with words.’

  I bit my lower lip, surprised at how delighted I was with her praise and carried her hand to my lips. ‘You know what, sweet cousin? Many’s the time I wished that your father had betrothed us, and given your sister to Richard.’ Lord, how she blushed. ‘Maybe our children shall make a match of it.’

  Her blue eyes sparkled. ‘I should like that, Harry.’

  ‘Harry, are you flirting with my wife?’ He took her hand and drew her forward beside him. An apprentice on stilts was waiting to give her a nosegay of white roses.

  I lifted my hat to the column of old soldiers passing below. ‘Of course. I shall be her highness’ most outrageous flatterer.’

  ‘And there I thought you were being sincere just now,’ teased Anne.

  ‘Of course, I was.’ We exchanged glances to tease Richard. ‘Nothing untoward then?’ I asked him, dispensing with frivolity and sweeping a keen eye over the faces below.

  Anne’s eyes widened. She stared like Christ’s blind beggar suddenly realizing the array of armed men that could have been harnessed against us and her fingers flew to her lips. ‘Oh, Dickon,’ she exclaimed, seeking her husband’s arm.

  ‘Look merry, my love, for Heaven’s sake!’ he growled through his smile as he acknowledged the salutes. ‘The Londoners only need to smell smoke and there’ll be a fire.’

  She obeyed instantly and turned a cheerful face upon the merrymakers, but I could see from the tension in her shoulders that she understood the danger. That was good. Let them both realise how much they depended on their friends.

  She glanced round warily before she whispered, ‘How soon before the soldiers arrive from York?’

  Richard met my interested stare. ‘I heard word tonight that they are on their way.’

  ‘Thank Heaven for that.’ She waved to the scarlet-cloaked constables marching past but her earlier spontaneity had vanished. There were acknowledgments but no huzzahs from the ranks. ‘It’s not like being in the north,’ she said, as though the burden of what lay ahead among strangers had at last sunk in.

  ‘No, my love,’ the future king answered grimly, ‘and this is just the beginning.’

  I STAYED beside the Gloucesters on the balcony as a reminder to the city that I was very much a part of England’s governance. By Thursday eve, I hoped Richard would be king, suffused with gratitude, and ripe to give me my Bohun inheritance.

  ‘You have little to say for yourself tonight, Kingmaker,’ he jested, clinking goblets with me.

  ‘I was actually thinking you need a barber.’ I retaliated. ‘You’ll be lucky to get the crown on with that thatch. What do you say, Anne?’

  ‘Say you so? He’s worried he’s going bald.’

  ‘I am not!’

  Of course three is a crowd. I wished that I had a wife – or a mistress – who would look at me so fondly. Mind, wives prattle and Anne was babbling about the move to Baynards to the mayor’s dame, so I stopped listening and thought about whether I should send Meg home with an escort or risk visiting her. I was still chewing on the matter when Lady Huddleston, with a lift of eyebrow at Richard, drew Anne and the other ladies inside. It was clear something was up for Lovell skilfully herded the merchants to the other end of the balcony, leaving Howard to insert himself between Richard and I. He flung a friendly arm around each
of us.

  ‘I hate to concern you both, and there is no need for panic so let’s keep a lid on the pot, eh, but there’s has been a fire at the Tower of London.’

  My cousin swore. ‘Don’t say my nephews—’

  ‘Nay, don’t wet yourselves. The Lord Lieutenant has moved them to By-Our-Lady Tower, but what happened, see, was some whoresons lit a fire as a diversion and broke into the royal lodging after the boys. One of the soldiers swears Dorset led the attack. Saw his face clear as day. Quite a skirmish.’

  ‘And did they catch any of them?’ I whispered.

  ‘No, Harry, three killed, the rest escaped over the wall and a boat was waiting for them. Very well planned. We may have to change the garrison.’

  Richard’s knuckles gleamed white upon the rail. ‘Have you sent out patrols along the Canterbury Road?’

  ‘Already done, lads. The dogs are out and we are searching Southwark and Bermondsey but with the revels still going on…’

  Richard nodded, chewing his lip. ‘I’ll go to the Tower tomorrow morning. I daresay this will happen again.’

  To be sure it would. I knew I had to get my cousin crowned and anointed, and then maybe we could sail into calmer waters.

  I felt my sleeve twitch. Delabere stood behind me with a small sealed letter. It was ill-timing; suspicion flared for an instant in my cousin’s face.

  I lifted my hands in the air. ‘No daggers, Richard. I just give speeches.’

  Instantly he was all contriteness. ‘I am sorry, Harry.’

  ‘Forget it, shall we? I need a good night’s sleep.’ I thrust my goblet into Howard’s hands and went to say goodnight to our hosts. I would return to the Red Rose and change to humbler attire. With the streets full, it would be my best opportunity to visit Meg without being recognised.

  But my company was attacked on the way home. One moment we were avoiding a trestle table, the next it was flung across our path and some twenty carousers thrust off their cloaks and came at us with swords. I had never had to fight for my life before, let alone with no poxy weapons but my fists and a rearing horse. As God is my witness, I fought hard but the whoresons dragged me down, and one of them rammed a fist into my belly and brought me to my knees. Lord knows whether I would have lived if Uncle Knyvett and my friends had not risked their lives. Two of my men were killed, another slashed badly below the knee, Latimer had a bloody nose and Uncle Knyvett was wounded in his right arm.

  ‘God’s Truth, it’s like Brecknock after market day,’ chuckled Latimer as he clambered up from the gutter, with the help of the landlord who owned the adjacent tavern, but I was not laughing.

  ‘Did none of you catch the cut-throats?’ I gasped in disbelief as Delabere hauled me to my feet. A wall of frightened London gaped around us. Maybe a reward tomorrow would loosen their tongues.

  It was not until I was ripping off my ruined finery, cursing that the money I had borrowed to pay for it was wasted, that I remembered the letter.

  Gloucester’s arselicker

  If my brother dies, so shall you!

  How sweet of Elizabeth.

  I SLEPT ill that night, not worrying that Elizabeth would send more assassins but angry that I was the scapegoat for Richard – it was not my signature on the warrant to execute Rivers. At least, my mirror showed me an unbruised face. Disgruntled but unbruised. I was grateful for that. Making a speech with swollen lips would not have been amusing. Or convincing!

  Escorted by Lord Mayor Shaa, I entered the Guildhall that morning to the sound of the city trumpeters. His sword bearer preceded us and the mayoral retinue in their part-coloured worsted livery trooped behind us. The magnificence of the great hall and the huge number of merchants and guildsmen gathered there to hear me put me in better humour. It surely is one of the mightiest banqueting halls in Christendom, built at great expense to house the council of aldermen and the city’s law courts, and a wondrous place to speak. I felt a sense of history, standing there on the dais with the sun streaming through the stained-glass coats of arms.

  They needed a strong king to defend their interests and safeguard Calais, I told them, and that argument moved them most of all. I was able to leave the dais, confident that Elizabeth had few supporters left.

  As I rode back to the Red Rose with my retinue, John Russhe, a merchant about the same age as me, who was fast becoming one of my inner circle, declared, ‘I was going to ask you to dinner next Sunday, your grace, but you will not be available now.’

  ‘How so?’ I asked

  ‘I gather they are booking you for the next sermon at St Paul’s.’

  Uncle Knyvett roared with laughter. ‘You know what, Harry, I even heard one guildsman say: “That lord spoke so smoothly that he didn't even pause to spit”.’

  ‘His grace has no need to stick his nose in the air,’ smirked Latimer. ‘The Londoners speak so lousily themselves that they think that anyone who can string a couple of sentences together is a blessed marvel.’

  ‘Hey now,’ countered Russhe.

  ‘Have done, you lowly commoners,’ I retorted, over my shoulder as we rode down Cat Street back towards Cheapside. ‘The speech only worked because I believed what I was saying. I used to spend hours as a child listening to how people used words.’

  ‘You certainly have a skilful turn of phrase and a pleasant voice, your grace.’

  ‘And you were pretty to look at,’ teased Uncle Knyvett. He gestured to my cap with its plume of dusted gold. I grinned, glancing down at my scarlet doublet with the Stafford knots embroidered on the black satin panels.

  ‘Rattled well, too,’ added Limerick, leaning forward and shaking my collar of sunnes and roses.

  ‘Look, if you have to listen to someone wittering on at you for two hours, it is less painful if the babbler is well dressed and pleasant to look upon.’

  Uncle Knyvett chuckled. ‘Do not defend yourself, Harry. You did well, right well, and I hope our future king realises how much he owes you.’

  Did he? I began to wonder why I was not doing this kingmaking for myself instead of Richard, if it was this easy.

  WESTMINSTER Hall was crammed with shire knights next morning. My kingmaking speech to the Commons setting forth Gloucester’s claim is in the records. Again there was no opposition. Catesby followed the great roar of 'ayes' with the motion that a deputation from lords and commons should present a petition to Gloucester next day requesting him to become king. I was beseeched to lead it.

  Chancellor Russell, who always weighed words with a miser’s care, shook my hand and said I should have been a lawyer. On reflection I am not sure if that was a compliment. Others were grudging in their praise. Catesby was overheard to remark: ‘Who does Buckingham think he is, the Angel Gabriel?’

  The following morning was drizzly but our procession through the streets from Westminster Palace to Baynards was cheerful and loud with conversation. It would have been quicker and less smelly to have gone in barges, but public events need to be carried out with as many spectators as possible. By the time we reached Thames Street and the cook shops gave up their dead, we had a great tail of people behind us, and, despite the watchmen and men-at-arms lining the street, a riot almost broke out when we reached Aunt Cis’ portcullis, and the crowd surged forward, struggling for a view. I ordered my pikemen to keep a space of about ten feet around me. I would be damned if I had to do kingmaking half-choked. Then I drew a deep breath and gave the nod to my herald. He sounded a fanfare and the parliament trumpeters replied.

  My cousin did not delay this time. He came out onto the gatehouse battlements with Anne hanging on his arm and his mother and chaplain flanking them in moral domesticity. Looking up at them, I felt like the commander of a besieging army about to parley with the enemy. Of course, we had planned it like that. Richard said he wanted to enjoy the feeling of being besieged with pleas to become king and it was the obvious way to do things.I dismounted and, snatching off my velvet cap, I swept my cousin a deep obeisance while behind me with a jingling of
harness and a creak of leather, lords and commoners did the same.

  Richard glanced at his wife. Gently disengaging from her, he leaned his hands upon the crenellations, a half-smile playing about his lips. There was colour in cheeks and exhilaration in the tilt of his head. Up there he looked a true Plantagenet and kingly too, as if the knowledge of our purpose had already anointed him with some mysterious, intangible charisma.

  ‘Cousin of Buckingham, my lords and gentlemen, good morning to you all. How may I serve you?’

  ‘Most gracious Lord Protector,’ I began, ‘we are here to present you with a petition from Parliament.’

  Richard looked round at his family. Anne responded with a reassuring smile but Aunt Cis was sternly looking us over as if we might be about to drop horse turds on her cobbles. My cousin rested his arms along the weathered stone and stared down at me. ‘Then I shall hear it right willingly,’ he offered with great charm.

  ‘Your grace—’ The sudden shouting from the river was tiresome. Poor Anne gave a start of concern and Aunt Cicely disappeared to deal with the matter. I guessed its source: the citizens who had not been able to pack into the street behind us were piling into wherries to glimpse events from the river. ‘Your grace,’ I began again, raising my voice.

  ‘I cannot hear you,’ mouthed my cousin, cupping his ear. Then there was a scuffle in the crowd behind us and I had to wait for that hubbub to die down. It was as well that Richard had forbidden the carrying of weapons within the city or hasty tempers would have drawn blood.

  ‘For the love of God, get back there and shut them up!’ I snapped, turning on one of my captains. ‘This is becoming ludicrous,’ I grumbled to Speaker Gunthorpe, who was holding the petition. ‘I cannot make a public presentation of the damn thing if I cannot be heard.’