He said: 'I do not know. So much will depend on what comes from this.'
That was the truth.
He sent for Richard.
'You must prepare yourself to leave for London,' he told him. 'A most distressing thing has happened. Your brother. . . .'
Mists swam before Richard's eyes. He grasped at the table by which he was standing. Something had happened to Edward and the way in which Warwick was looking might indicate that he was no longer the King's friend.
'My brother . . .'he murmured, for Warwick had hesitated.
'It is so grievous that I can hardly bring myself to speak of it. Your brother has married . . . without consulting the Council. . . without consulting meV
'Married to ... to Bona of Savoy?'
'Good God no. If only it were so. He has married a woman of low birth. A most unsuitable alliance. His wife is Lady Grey, Elizabeth Woodville daughter of Lord Fevers.'
'But I thought it was to be a French marriage.'
'So did we all. So should it have been. But your brother has taken this rash act.'
'What will happen?'
'That remains to be seen. At this time we have this marriage. It
is a true one and cannot be denied. So now we have a Queen . . . Queen Elizabeth Woodville/
Warwick managed to force a great deal of contempt into his voice.
'I am sure my brother. . . /
There is one thing you can be sure of. He has made a great mistake and we do not know what the outcome of this will be. And now we have to attend her coronation, God help us. God help the nation. God help the King. The folly of it is past understanding.'
Richard was angry. He hated Warwick in that moment. He drew himself up to his full height which was not very great and fingering the badge on his jacket he said: T am sure that whatever my brother has done is right.'
Richard was dismayed on arriving at Baynard's Castle where he was to join his mother to find that she was in a furious mood.
George, who was already at the Castle, told him that she had been so since she had heard the news of Edward's marriage.
'She says she will never take second place to the low-bom Elizabeth, even if she is the Queen.' Clarence was amused. Richard had always known that he enjoyed discomfiture in others.
'And why should she?' he demanded. 'She is of our royal blood. And this woman . . . she is a nobody. I cannot understand what possessed Edward.'
'Edward would not have married her unless he had a very good reason for doing so.'
That made George laugh. 'He has his reasons most certainly. She must have something very special to tempt him.' His eyes were speculative. 'I wonder what.'
Richard hated any references to Edward's sexual life. It did not quite fit in with the noble qualities with which he had endowed him.
'I am sure,' he said staunchly, 'that Edward has acted wisely. We shall discover that to be so in due course.'
'You are a foolish boy, Richard. You see no farther than your nose. What are all the noble families going to say? What is the King of France going to say? And what is Warwick going to say?'
'He will serve the King as all good men should.'
'There is one thing I know. Edward's most faithful subject is his brother Richard. You're going to wake up one day, brother, and you will find that your god is only human after all.'
Richard was silent. There were times when he heartily disliked George. He himself was certainly uneasy about the marriage but he had made up his mind that if Edward wanted it he was going to want it too.
He turned away from George and looked out at the Thames flowing by just below the castle walls. He gazed along the water to the grey walls of the Tower and prayed fervently that all would go well for Edward and a resentment arose in him against George who seemed so pleased at the prospect of trouble, at his mother who was so haughty and declared she would not see the low-bom Queen, and towards Warwick who dared to think he knew better than the King!
Edward meanwhile was delighted with his bride. He was relieved too that the secret was out. If he had a chance to go back he would do exactly the same again. It was hard to define what it was about Elizabeth which so enthralled him. She was by no means passionate; she was aloof, cold even; he sometimes wondered whether her hold over him was that she presented a continual challenge. He was always attempting to arouse something which was not there. And of course she was incomparably beautiful—strangely enough in a different mould from beauties who had attracted him in the past. Her clear-cut features were as Hastings had once said, like those of a statue; and he was never quite sure what was going on behind those beautiful blue-grey heavy-lidded eyes. With her long luxuriant hair falling about her firm white body she moved him as he had never been moved before and he could say to himself: A plague on Louis. A plague on Warwick. Neither of them is going to stop my having Elizabeth.
Rather unexpectedly Warwick had decided not to offer any reprimand and long lecture on the harm that had been done. That was wise of Warwick. Edward would have been ready for him and Warwick would have learned once and for all that the King was no longer his to command. Warwick stayed silent, and when presented to Elizabeth showed all the respect that Edward, or even Elizabeth, could have asked.
Warwick had given his anger time to simmer down and it was
no longer at boiling point and therefore dangerous. It was there, as deep and strong as ever, but under control. He could see what had happened and blamed himself for not realizing it was coming. Edward was on the point of breaking away and would do so on this delicate matter of his marriage. The weakening chain must be repaired quickly and an appropriate moment chosen to slip on the leading-reins.
In the meantime he would show Edward that he accepted Elizabeth as Queen and would do his best to repair any damage that had been done to relations with France. He would try not to show how bitterly he resented having been made to look foolish in the eyes of the King of France who by this clandestine marriage had proved that he, Warwick, was not in the King's confidence.
'I made him. I put him on the throne. He would be nothing without me.' So he had ranted to his Countess.
To Edward he smiled affably and discussed the arrangements for the Queen's coronation.
First Edward wanted to present her to the nobles of the land and he would do that in Reading Abbey.
Tt is meet and fitting,' he said, 'that Clarence should lead her in. As heir presumptive to the throne it is his place to do that.'
Edward was smiling complacently. He was certain that soon there would be an heir to push Clarence aside. Both he and Elizabeth had proved—as he had told his mother—that they were not likely to be barren.
Warwick smiled grimly to himself. He could imagine Clarence's feelings. That boy had ambitions. He had half hoped that Edward would never marry and then his own great ambition would be realized.
Not you, thought Warwick. I would prefer Richard—a good serious boy, loyal to his brother. I could mould him. But Clarence . . . no, too vain. Too much superficial charm that is soon shown to be worthless. Clarence is no good. But that woman and Edward will have a brood of children I doubt not, for Edward will go to the making of them with an enthusiasm he has for little else.
So Clarence was to lead her in. His mother was furious, but he had to do it. He had to obey the King rather than his mother. It was an amusing situation. They'll not endure it, he thought. Warwick is seething. So are some of the others. They are setting up together against the Woodvilles already.
And here was the Queen. There was no doubt of her beauty. It