So the Duchess went to the nurseries and there she seated herself on a throne-like chair and sent for the chief nurse. She signed for the woman to kneel before her and told her that she desired to see the baby.
The woman rose, bowed and retired and came back with the child.
Even Cecily softened as she took the baby into her arms. A healthy child indeed, with a look of Edward, she thought. She commented on this. This is a Plantagenet,' she said. 'No hint of Woodville here, praise be to God.'
'If she is only half as good-looking as her mother she'll be a beauty,' said Edward.
Cecily was silent. Foolish lover's talk! she thought. Is he not over that yet? Now the woman has produced a child it will be more difficult to get rid of her. Shll, one never knew, and Edward had always been fickle in his relahonships with women.
She said: 'I should be pleased if the child was named after me.'
Edward bowed his head. He had said to Elizabeth only that day that he thought the child should be called after her mother and Elizabeth had smiled and said she had thought the same.
He said nothing now. He always avoided trouble. There was no point in creating scenes which might not be necessary.
The Duchess said that she would consent to be godmother to her granddaughter and Edward replied that that would give him and Elizabeth great pleasure.
Later, he sat by Elizabeth's bed. The baby was sleeping in her ornate cradle.
'So your mother came,' said Elizabeth. 'Did she not want to see me?'
'Oh, she thought you might be a little exhausted.'
Elizabeth smiled faintly. Never question unless of course there was something to be gained from it. Edward was uneasy about his mother and as Jacquetta had said her task was to set him at ease . . . always.
'She suggested that she would be pleased if the baby were called Cecily.'
This was one of those occasions when a little firmness was necessary.
'But we had decided on Elizabeth, had we not? You wanted Elizabeth.'
'There is no name which would please me more but. . . .'
'Then if it is your wish I am going to insist. The child shall be called Elizabeth.'
He kissed the lids of her eyes which gave such distinction to her face. Elizabeth used them sometimes because she feared her eyes might betray those innermost thoughts which she wished to keep from the world.
Now she did not wish Edward to see the triumph. The Duchess of York must learn that she could not insult the Queen and then condescendingly present herself and make demands.
Cecily indeed! After the Duchess who had made such an obvious show of her disapproval of the marriage.
Indeed not. The baby would be named Elizabeth after her mother.
The Princess Elizabeth was christened with a great deal of pomp and ceremony. Everyone was delighted that the King had a legitimate child. A son would have been a greater matter for rejoicing, but never mind, everyone was sure there would be a son in due course.
What was so comforting was that the baby's godmothers were the mothers of the bride and bridegroom. Jacquetta let it be known that she was of as high birth as Cecily Neville and that the Queen's mother had as much right to royal treatment as the King's had.
But the greatest relief of all was that the Earl of Warwick was her godfather. This must mean, it was said, that he was completely reconciled to the marriage. There would have been some perturbation if people could have guessed the inner feelings of the Earl of Warwick. Plans were forming in his head; and he rather welcomed this occasion for it enabled him to allay suspicions. He was not yet ready to act but he was not going to stand aside and see the Woodvilles take over the government of the country which was what they were beginning to do with so many of them placed in the greatest families in the land.
The christening was performed by George Neville, Archbishop of York. Warwick had scattered his men throughout the country which was what the Woodvilles were now attempting to do and it was maddening to contemplate that he, Warwick, was being defeated at his own game.
A few days after the christening came the churching. This should be a grand occasion, because the people must be made to realize the importance of Elizabeth the Queen; those remarks about her low birth and her unsuitability for her new role must be suppressed for ever.
The Queen looked beauhful; her pallor became her; she was exquisitely dressed and as usual she wore her magnificent hair flowing about her shoulders as she walked under an elaborate canopy and there was a grand procession from the Palace of Westminster to the Abbey with priests, ladies, nobles, trumpeters and other musicians. Jacquetta walked immediately behind her daughter, her eyes dancing with memories and anticipation of greater glories to come. Jacquetta often said to her husband that they had been right in everything they did. They had loved rashly, married even more rashly and produced the finest family that was ever granted to a man and woman. 'And it was because we were bold,' she insisted. 'We took what we wanted. We chose each other without thought of riches or greatness and you see riches and greatness are pouring into our laps.'
This marriage of her daughter's was of her making—so she believed. She had been its instigator. Oh, she was happy on that day. Her daughter Queen! All her children in high places! Oh happy happy day when she had conceived the idea of sending Elizabeth into Whittlebury Forest to meet the King ... by accident.
The ceremony over they were back in the palace for the banquet. There was a golden chair for Elizabeth. How wonderful she looked! How regal! Her ladies, her mother among them, knelt before her while she ate very sparingly, neither looking nor speaking to those who knelt so humbly before her.
In spite of the lack of a longed-for boy, Elizabeth had turned it into a triumph. And a few months later she was pregnant again.
It was August when Elizabeth gave birth to her second child.
To her disappointment—and that of the King—this was another daughter. But Edward was as deeply enamoured of Elizabeth as he had ever been. Her cool beauty was so refreshing after the hot passion of his other encounters. These were continuing, though not with the same frequency as they had in his bachelor days. He had no need to make excuses or invent lies for Elizabeth. She never asked about his extra-marital love affairs. They were unimportant. She was the Queen.
As long as he never lost his taste for her, no one could replace her. That was the only thing she need fear and it seemed very unlikely. Edward was polygamous. No one woman would ever satisfy him completely. He could not have chosen a wife more suited to him and as the years passed he became more and more devoted to her.
He quickly recovered from his initial disappointment over the second girl. The boy would come, he was sure. They were fertile both of them and they might have a girl or two perhaps before they got their boy. But the boy would surely come. Elizabeth already had two to prove it.
Elizabeth was already thinking of Thomas, the elder of her two sons by John Grey, because for him she wanted Anne, the heiress of the Duke of Exeter. Warwick had already decided on the girl for one of his nephews but Elizabeth had won the day. Warwick was annoyed about this, but he was still not showing what was in his mind.
The new baby was sent to the Palace of Shene to be in the nursery there with her sister Elizabeth who was her senior only by sixteen months. The Queen was determined that they should have a household worthy of Princesses who were heiresses to the throne. Therefore the babies' nursery was conducted in the utmost state and presided over by Margaret, Lady Bemers, the governess their mother had appointed.