From the first moment of the meeting the Cardinal knew that he was facing difficulties and that the breach was going to be very difficult to heal.
Burgundy said that the English appeared to be losing their skill in battle. ‘It became noticeable after the siege of Orléans,’ he said. ‘If the Duke had not prevented the town surrendering to me, he would not be in such dire straits as to need an alliance with Luxembourg as a temporary measure to bolster up his strength.’
‘My lord, the Duke of Bedford deeply regrets the matter of Orléans. If it had not been for the witch …’
Burgundy shrugged his shoulders. ‘Everything is blamed onto the witch but you, my dear Cardinal, a man of experience, do not believe for one moment that a simple peasant girl could have changed the course of events.’
‘It was the effect she had on the people, not what she was, my lord, but what the French and the English believed her to be. Her influence is waning and if you two mighty lords forget these little minor irritations and are seen to be united, all that is lost will soon be regained.’
The Duke was silent. He is wavering, thought the Cardinal. God help us. It is true then … this rumour that he is thinking of breaking his alliance with us and joining with France. That would indeed be disastrous.
‘It would seem to be a most unfriendly act to marry into Luxembourg,’ said the Duke stolidly. ‘And if the Duke of Bedford regretted his act why does he not come to me in person? Why send an emissary … even one so important as yourself, Cardinal.’
‘I was not exactly sent by him, my lord.’
‘You mean he is unaware that you have approached me?’ The Duke was looking more haughty than ever. That would not do.
‘Not so, not so,’ said the Cardinal quickly. ‘He was deeply grieved by your displeasure and when I suggested I should convey that sorrow to you he did not forbid it.’
‘I see,’ said the Duke. ‘He was too proud to come himself. Let me tell you this, my lord Cardinal, if the Duke came to me in person it might be possible for us to dissolve our differences … who shall say … In the meantime …’
The Duke paused mischievously. He knew that the rumours about the feelers the French were sending out towards him would have reached the English and he could well understand their anxiety. Let them be anxious. He had never forgiven Bedford for Orléans and it had been borne home to him then more strongly that it was unnatural for Burgundians and French to be fighting on opposite sides in a war of such vital consequences. It was all very well to conduct strife between factions in the country. The feud between the Burgundians and the Armagnacs was natural enough; but to fight a war against a foreign enemy and not to stand together … Yes, it was indeed a bizarre situation.
Charles was being very meek; he was dissociating himself from the murderers of the old Duke of Burgundy. He might not have intended to murder. That could be well believed. He was a mild man, not given to violence by any means. Perhaps that should be considered.
‘It is a pity that there should be this discord,’ said the Cardinal. ‘It puts heart into our enemy even though Charles knows that you have sworn not to make a separate peace with France.’
So he had been correct in divining the Cardinal’s thoughts. They were worried, were they? It was true he had sworn not to make a separate peace with France, but he was getting very tired of Bedford’s going against him and the marriage into Luxembourg had really damaged their relationship. Anne was dead and he now no longer had to consider her. She was not there to plead with him and explain her husband’s motives. Bedford owed a lot to Anne – yet as soon as she was dead he was off with this young girl from Luxembourg.
Burgundy had no desire to mend the quarrel. It suited him well at this time to keep it going.
He knew Bedford’s pride so he made the gesture which he knew would not be accepted by Bedford.
He said: ‘If the Duke of Bedford wishes to say he regrets his actions let him come himself to tell me so.’
The interview was at an end, and the Cardinal knew that he had failed.
Would Bedford go cap in hand to Burgundy and say he was sorry? How could Burgundy ask him so to humble himself? Why should the Regent of France do such a thing even for the sake of an important ally? Burgundy knew he would not come. That was why he had asked him to.
Humphrey of Gloucester was in a rage. His brother was coming home. Eleanor was sympathetic. She knew exactly how to handle him. He had not swerved in his devotion to her, and she undoubtedly had the power to hold him. She sometimes wondered how much she had to thank Margery Jourdemayne for that, but the fact remained that with Margery’s aids and her own overwhelming sexuality she could appeal to the Duke – and what was more important, preserve his need for her – as no other woman had ever been able to do.
So far, though, she remained infertile. She could not understand it. She had paid several visits to Margery and had seen the waxen image. It looked very beautiful to her. Margery kept it in a tiny cradle lined with velvet. A beautiful article although so small. Margery said that she spoke to the image every day and she felt she was on the verge of getting a response.
‘Any day now,’ she said. But she had been saying that for months and still there was no sign of a child.
Eleanor knew that she could afford to wait a while. There were important matters always on hand and life with the Duke was never dull.
And now Bedford was coming home. She was sure he would strongly disapprove of her.
‘There’s nothing to fear from him,’ she said blithely. ‘He hardly comes home as a conqueror, does he?’
‘It is disgraceful the way he is mismanaging things in France.’
‘They should have let you handle them.’
He smiled fondly at her. She was always amazed by how childishly he responded to flattery. His military career had been without renown but he always saw himself as a great commander. She should not complain of that trait in his character. It made him more easy to manage.
‘He will probe into the way things are at home.’
‘Oh yes, no doubt, and find fault with everything.’
‘You can be sure of that.’
‘Well, let us begin by finding fault with him. That should not be difficult. You could tell the Council that you are not at all happy about the way he is conducting the war. Since he was so ignobly beaten at Orléans things have been getting worse and worse over there. A word in the ear of certain members of the Council …’
‘You are right,’ said Gloucester.
‘Most carefully dropped as you know so well how to do … dropped on fertile ground. There are many who are not over fond of your noble brother, Humphrey.’
So they talked. Gloucester said that perhaps he should offer to go to France to set matters right.
Go to France! It was the last thing she wanted. What a terrible thought! Trailing from town to town, living in camps! No, she preferred the castles and palaces of England. But there was no harm in agreeing with him. She could be sure no one would take such a suggestion seriously.
When she saw Bedford she was struck by the fact that he had aged considerably since she had last seen him. The sight of him sent little quivers of excitement running through her lively imagination. That affair of Joan of Arc had upset him more than seemed possible. And he had this merry little wife of half his age. He was still a man of distinction. He was very like his brother the late King, so it was said. He did command respect as Humphrey, bless him, never could. John was a fine figure of a man; not her taste really; no one would be able to tell him how to behave. He would never be the slave of his senses. He had been a virtuous married man with Anne of Burgundy, and now he had married this pretty little creature. But that was, of course, for Luxembourg.