Being too heavily armed to enter the cathedral proper, and having no wish to deposit his sword at the vestibule, Andrew strode into a small secluded office to one side, sat on the stool, put both legs up on the table and waited. After a moment a small boy poked his nose around the inner door. ‘Tell your master Lord Feayton is come on the duke’s orders,’ Andrew said.
Andrew Cobham left London a little over an hour later, rode through the Ludgate, crossed the noisome chugging of The Fleet and continued through the gardened greenery of The Strand towards Westminster. At the Palace he once again left his horse at the stables and this time he also left his sword at the guards’ offices. He was no longer alone. Mister William Catesby accompanied him, and together they strode the brightly lit corridors towards the great spread of apartments permanently occupied by the Baron Hastings. Here Mister Catesby and Mister Cobham accepted refreshment, refused an invitation to midday dinner in the High Hall, and settled down to lengthy discussion and negotiation.
‘It is,’ Lord Hastings said at last, ‘of the greatest conceivable concern to this realm, and has been for some months. And yet we still have no proof? Nor could we prove the first attempt, though with thanks be to all the saints, the king survived. But if his grace were to succumb to such wickedness a second time, what then? And what of the subsequent intentions?’
‘As far as I’ve been able to ascertain, the orders come directly from Ludlow,’ Andrew said, his fingertip playing thoughtfully around the rim of his cup. ‘Marrott complies, but the initiative is not his. Nor, it appears, does her highness know anything of the situation and would surely disapprove if she did.’
‘The damned woman owes everything to Edward.’ Hastings leaned forwards, frowning. ‘Without the king where would she be? Back in poverty, scraping a meagre living for herself and her family as she did before. And to think it was me who introduced her to the king.’
Andrew acknowledged the irony. ‘My lord, I state the circumstances without bias, but every situation is open to interpretation according to opinion. Some of these opinions are assumptions. Some are certainties. None are provable.’
Hastings leaned back again in his chair. ‘Opinions and assumptions, my lord, yes indeed. And what, may I ask, am I to assume concerning a nobleman with a title I do not recognise? Do I trust the suspicions of a man, when I doubt the veracity of his identity?’
‘My family is from the northeast, my lord,’ Andrew replied, unperturbed. ‘My father was related to the late Lord Leays. But I do not come to press any claim of my own, sir. Merely to present the facts.’
‘Then tell me the facts as you see them, Feayton,’ Hastings said. ‘Give me something I can take to the king, provable or otherwise.’
‘I cannot be sure, but I suspect Earl Rivers, and if I am right, his motives appear simple,’ Andrew said softly. ‘It is apparent that his highness is lately out of sympathy with her highness. You have confirmed this yourself, my lord. The king has made it known he intends removing the queen’s name as principal executor of his will and testament. She will no longer officially be the prince’s foremost guardian, nor the main recipient of the king’s possessions should his highness die during his son’s minority.’
Catesby smiled at Baron Hastings. ‘These are legal matters. As a lawyer, and your loyal servant, my lord, I have been informing Lord Feayton for some weeks now. I can confirm that lawyers have been consulted and the intention is known at court.’
‘The king has told me so himself,’ Hastings snorted. ‘I’m not on such an intimate footing with the queen to discuss these matters, but believe me, she knows. I’ll wager the king’s threat has her spitting venom.’
Andrew said, ‘I spent some weeks at Ludlow before Christmas, my lord. The earl also knows, and is deeply concerned regarding his sister’s fall in grace. If the queen loses influence, then so will her favourites and in particular her family. With his highness still young, there may be many years of continued disillusion to come. And the king’s heir will mature, and even perhaps adopt his father’s opinion, disassociating himself, in time, from Woodville influence.’
‘Damned Dorset seems as popular as ever,’ Hastings grumbled.
‘As is Earl Rivers, I understand.’ Andrew lowered his voice. ‘But should her highness continue to lose favour, so, inevitably, will those she has championed. There is the risk that, in the future, they might lose everything. It has happened before to others.’
‘Yes. Even to Warwick,’ Hastings nodded. ‘Long ago perhaps, but with a similar result, for such bias induced even Warwick to turn traitor. I consider Edward a great king and a good man. But under certain circumstances his admiration is known to grow suddenly cold, and can turn abruptly to contempt. He is remarkably stubborn – and he has a temper.’
‘As your lordship says. At present Earl Rivers is one of the most powerful lords in the realm. More importantly, he holds the elder prince in his hand. As the heir’s guardian and closest friend, his lordship is trusted as no other. Should his highness die soon, pray God keep him safe, so the new King Edward would immediately enrich and empower Rivers, Dorset and the others even beyond the favours they already hold.’
‘The next king?’ snorted Hastings. ‘An insipid twelve-year-old, with more yellow curls on his head than brains inside it. The boy would be entirely ruled by his mother and his Uncle Rivers. A hundred bastard Woodvilles would crawl out of the woodwork to claim further rewards. Damnation! If Edward died now the country would soon be a Woodville trough for the picking. And Rivers would be king in all but name.’
Andrew bent his head again in acknowledgement. ‘Precisely, my lord, it is how I see it. I believe it is how Earl Rivers sees it. So Rivers must move before the king amends his will. He must take advantage of a testament leaving the country open to himself and his sister the queen, and of a boy king, not a man capable of choosing to rule by his own hand.’
‘And this wretch Marrott?’
‘I have something approaching proof against Lord Marrott,’ Andrew nodded. ‘And by association perhaps the Marquess of Dorset, since they are particularly close friends. But against all but Marrott, there stands only suspicion.’
‘If such disaster befell us – if such villainy were allowed to occur – then, perhaps …’ Hastings scratched his beard, his chin sunk into the high sable of his collar. ‘The prince, our illustrious heir, may grow to be a fine man if his father reigns long enough for the son to mature. At present he knows only his Uncle Rivers’ influence. If he were brought to the throne too soon, there are matters long hidden that I might bring to light. I believe I would do this, if I thought it just.’
Andrew’s eyes narrowed. Catesby quickly interrupted. ‘My lord, I have spoken to his highness’s legal advisors, though naturally they have not confided the nature of the changes intended. The king will alter his testament as and when propitious, but as yet he sees no cause for haste. He enjoys good health and has no reason to expect otherwise. While his highness remains content to let matters lie, Earl Rivers has time to choose his moment and consider the risks most carefully.’
Hastings was watching Andrew with some interest. ‘My lord Feayton, you say you travelled to Ludlow before Christmas, and discovered something of Rivers’ mind. How is this? Are you acquainted with him? The Duke of Gloucester spoke to me of you but always kept your identity private. Yet evidently this is known to others?’