was breath-taking. She was the sort of woman who was naturally regal. She was tall and therefore looked well beside Edward. He dwarfed most women. Her glorious hair fell about her shoulders and down to her knees and on her head was a crown of gems the points of which were formed in the shape of fleur-de-lys. She held her head high but her heavy lids were drawn down over her eyes and she looked at no one. Her gown was of blue, that colour which suited her above all others, and it was decorated with stripes of gold brocade; the sleeves were tight and the bodice close-fitting; and there was an ermine border about the skirt. Her shoes were very pointed and she picked her way daintily but with sure-footed resolution towards the nobles who were waiting to do homage to her.
Everyone's eyes were on Warwick. He knelt before her. He took her hand and kissed it.
Clarence was disappointed. He was hoping for trouble.
Warwick could not have behaved more agreeably if the bride had been of his choice. No one would guess from his attitude how deeply the resentment was smouldering within him.
Just over a year after the secret marriage Elizabeth was crowned in Westminster Abbey.
It was Whitsunday and Elizabeth had been staying at Eltham Palace. Edward was keeping Court at the Palace of the Tower where he awaited the arrival of the Queen. As she came into London the mayor and the city leaders in all their colourful uniforms met her at Shooters Hill in order to form part of the procession which conducted her through Southwark to the Tower.
Edward was so proud of her, and he was delighted, too, that Warwick had after the first shock accepted her. If it occurred to him that Warwick might not be quite so reconciled as he appeared to be, Edward dismissed the thought. He hated trouble and all through his life he had pretended it did not exist, until the last minute when it had to be faced. Then he faced it with a nonchalance which was characteristic of him. He believed he could overcome every difficulty with his charm and grace—and often he did.
Elizabeth was carried from the Tower to the Abbey in her litter
and the Londoners came out to marvel at her beauty and to look at the King whom they so much admired; and they thought the marriage was so romantic and just what they would have expected of their handsome King.
Edward was delighted that the Count of St Pol, the brother of Jacquetta, had accepted the invitation to attend the coronation because he gave a certain standing to the bride and reminded the people that although her father was a humble knight, her mother came from the noble House of Luxembourg. As for the Count who had vowed he never wanted to see his sister again, he was completely reconciled; his sister's daughter having become Queen of England completely expiated her sin in marrying beneath her.
And after the coronation there was the grand banquet in Westminster Hall where the King sat beside his Queen and showed by his demeanour his immense satisfaction with the proceedings.
Jacquetta looked on with the utmost sahsfaction. Who would have believed she could have brought Elizabeth to this?
It was wonderful. Already her daughter was bringing good fortune to the family. She and Elizabeth discussed at length the grand marriages there should be for the members of the family. There, close to the King, sat her daughter Catherine, now the Duchess of Buckingham, elevated through her marriage to the Duke into one of the richest and most important families in the land. So should it be for the others.
Very soon the Woodvilles should be the leading family in the country, outdoing even the Nevilles.
Perhaps the most satisfied woman in the country that day, apart from the bride, was the bride's mother. It was a very different case with the bridegroom's mother.
She had refused to attend the ceremony. She, Proud Cis, who at Fotheringay when her husband had been Protector of the Land had lived in the state of a Queen, with a receiving room where she gave audiences and where she had enforced royal etiquette on all those who came into contact with her—must now stand by and watch the low-bom daughter of a chamberlain's son take precedence over her!
No, Proud Cis would not accept Elizabeth Woodville as Queen.
Edward however was delighted with life. He was still in love with Elizabeth. There had already been minor infidelities it was true but they did not seem to matter. Elizabeth never asked about them. He wondered if she heard rumours for he had been rather indiscreet with a certain lady of the Court. Their affair had lasted a week before he was longing for the cool, aloof charms of Elizabeth.
He had discovered that he did not want his relationship with his Queen impaired in any way and he had suffered a qualm or so of uneasiness; but if she knew, and he thought she might, for those cool hooded eyes missed little, she gave no sign. When he muttered some excuses about his absences, she waved them aside.
T know full well that you will always have matters which take you from my side. I never forget that you are the King.'
He loved her more than ever. No reproaches! She just gave him cool calm understanding.
Her mother was often with her. He liked Jacquetta. There had always been a special friendship between them since she had been so helpful at the time of the marriage. People might say that it was her witchcraft which had made him so determined to get Elizabeth that he married her. He didn't care. If witches were like Jacquetta then he could do with them in the kingdom.
There was good news of Henry the King who had been captured in the North. He had been in hiding for some time, living in fear of capture, resting at times in monasteries so Edward had heard. A life which Henry must have found most suitable. Warwick had met him when he was brought to London by his captors and so that all should realize the depth to which he had sunk they had bound his legs under his horse with leather thongs while he was conducted to the Tower. There he was handed to his keeper.
Edward rejoiced, not only that Henry was his captive but because Warwick's actions showed that he was still the same strong and firm supporter of the Yorkist King.
They would all be relieved, of course, if Henry died, but they must not hurry him to death or he would become a martyr. Henry was perfect martyr material with all that piety. In the North some of them believed he was actually a saint. Moreover if he were to die there was still his son.
'Let matters rest as they are,' Warwick had said, and he added
looking steadily at Edward: They have a way of working out for what is right/
Warwick's mind was busy. He had stepped back into his role of chief adviser; he had made a pretence of accepting the Queen. But in truth he hated the Queen. Not because in marrying her Edward had humiliated him in a manner such a proud nobleman would never accept, but he could see that the Woodville family would become more and more important with every passing year. The leading family was the Nevilles—made so by him. And why should it not be so? Who had put the King on the throne? Should not the Kingmaker gather a little for his own family?
And if they were going to be ousted by the upstart Woodvilles this could not be tolerated.
Elizabeth and that diabolical mother of hers were putting their heads together and enriching and empowering their family by the old well tried method—which was the best in any case—of marrying into the greatest families. And they were doing very well.
Anthony was already married to the daughter of Lord Scales and had that title. Anne Woodville had become Lady Essex having married the Earl; Catherine had married the Duke of Buckingham; Mary was the wife of the Earl of Pembroke; Eleanor was married to Lord Grey of Ruthin, Earl of Kent, and the youngest, Martha, was the wife of Sir John Bromley.
Warwick seethed with rage when he thought of Elizabeth's efforts so far. Those were the Queen's sisters, already exerting a Woodville influence in the greatest and most powerful families in the country.