A wise girl, thought Joan, and remembered what she had heard of Edward the Second who had indulged in passionate friendships with men of the Court and how his wife had resented it to such an extent that she had taken up arms against him.
Yes, Joan could rejoice in the marriage. It was a good day for Richard when Anne of Bohemia became his wife.
She was often uneasy about the sons of her first marriage. They had always been rather violent. They took after their father. She could smile remembering him and the passion they had shared in their youth. Thomas Holland had been irresistible all those years ago in the Salisbury household where she was supposed to be betrothed to young Salisbury. Exciting days – carefree days when she had been quite unaware of how very reckless she had been.
It was all over now. But Thomas and John were reckless. Of one thing she could be certain: they would support Richard because all their hopes of advancement would come through him.
Richard was now in his eighteenth year. He was no longer a boy to be told what to do. He had selected a small coterie of friends at the head of which was Robert de Vere. De Vere was not the wisest of counsellors but it was always to his advice that Richard listened. Moreover he was inclined to act on impulse and because his temper was quick and was becoming increasingly violent, he was apt to act first and think afterwards.
There were bound to be warring factions about him and there was a great resentment towards de Vere. This was taken up by the people who blamed every reverse on the favourite. They still believed in their King; they cheered him when he rode through the streets of cities and the countryside; he looked so much the King and as yet they would find scapegoats for any action which they did not like.
John of Gaunt was back in England having come to no satisfactory conclusion regarding Castile, and about him had formed a group which was known as the Lancastrian Party. He had gone to Scotland and returned after a disastrous campaign. He had pursued the Scots who had burned their towns and villages before him so that when he arrived in them his army was without provisions. It was impossible to continue in these circumstances and the English had had to retreat back to the border.
John was blamed for lack of energy in conducting the war and the matter was brought up by the Court party in Parliament and there was a bitter discord mainly between de Vere and John.
De Vere was certain of his influence with the King and he believed that he could rid himself of this troublesome uncle who, he knew, would do everything within his power to ruin him if he had the chance.
And John of Gaunt was a very powerful man.
De Vere decided that he might be able to get rid of John of Gaunt once and for all.
The Court was at Salisbury and the King and Queen were to attend High Mass in the Cathedral there. This was going to be a very ceremonious occasion.
Robert de Vere had invited the King and Queen to sup with him before the Mass and they had repaired to his private apartments in the castle. There were but a few guests and it was a very merry party until there was a sudden interruption.
The door of the apartment was flung open and a friar whose habit showed him to be a Carmelite rushed in and threw himself at the feet of the King.
Richard was startled. ‘What means this?’ he cried.
The friar stammered: ‘My lord, my lord. I come to warn you.’
‘Speak, friar, speak,’ cried Robert de Vere. ‘The King commands you to say what it is you have to tell him.’
The friar lifted his eyes to the King’s face. ‘My lord,’ he said, ‘your life is in danger. There are those who plot to kill you.’
‘What plot is this?’ cried the King. ‘And how do you know of it?’
‘I know of it, my lord. I have overheard the conspirators. It is a plot with the cities of London and Coventry. They will band together and take your throne from you.’
‘This man is mad,’ said the King.
‘No, no, my lord. It is not so.’
‘Let us hear him out,’ said de Vere. ‘Who has made this plot? Who is at the heart of it? Tell us that.’
‘It is your uncle, my lord King. Your uncle, John of Gaunt, who seeks to overthrow you and take the throne.’
‘My uncle!’ cried Richard.
It was significant that he believed it possible. His Uncle John of Gaunt plotting against him, trying to take the crown. Wasn’t that what he had always wanted?
But they had found out in time. The friar should be rewarded. He would strike first.
‘Arrest the Duke of Lancaster,’ cried Richard. ‘Arrest the traitor.’
One of the members of the party, Sir John Clanvowe, who was Prior of the Hospital of St John of Jerusalem, begged the King to restrain his anger.
‘My lord, my lord,’ he cried, ‘it would be well to find out first whether there is any truth in this friar’s story.’
Anne was looking at Richard with a warning expression in her eyes; she too was advising caution.
Caution! He did not want caution. He had always known John of Gaunt had longed for the crown. He wanted that son of his to be heir to the throne. He had always wanted it.
Richard’s heart called out for immediate vengeance. He wanted to show them all that he was capable of quick and firm action. He felt excited and desperately frustrated.
A kind of madness seized him. It was the old Plantagenet temper which so many of them had seen before, handed down through the generations – and it was out of control. He took off his hat and in a sudden rage threw it out of the window. The company stared at him in amazement. Then he took off his shoes and they followed the hat.
When he had done that he felt he had relieved his feelings and was much calmer.
Anne had risen and laid a hand on his arm.
‘You should question this friar, Richard,’ she whispered. ‘We should endeavour to discover whether he speaks the truth. Demand of him that he tell you the names of those who are concerned in this.’
It was wise, of course. He knew it. He should not condemn his uncle without proof. Robert was watching him intently. Robert had planned that he would impulsively arrest John of Gaunt and hurry him off to the Tower, and have his head off his shoulders before he had time to work out some plan to show that he was innocent.
Richard had wanted to do what Robert wanted. Robert was his friend. Robert always thought of him first. He had said so.
There was a step outside the chamber and a gasp of horror when John of Gaunt himself came into the room.
‘They are waiting for you, my lord,’ he began. ‘They wonder why you and the Queen are delayed.’
At the sight of the King’s uncle, the friar seemed to fall into a frenzy.
‘There is the traitor!’ he cried. ‘Seize him. Cut off his head. Put him to death before he kills you, my lord.’
John stared at the friar in amazement.
‘What madman is this?’ he demanded.
‘He has just made an accusation against you,’ Richard told him.
‘An accusation! What accusation?’
‘That you are plotting with the people of London and Coventry to kill me and take the crown.’
‘Plotting! Take the crown! He is indeed a madman. Can you see the people of London joining me in any plot? They might like me a little better than they once did … but I am still hated by them. This is a madman, nephew. He should be put under restraint.’
Richard turned to the friar. ‘You hear that?’
‘I hear, my lord,’ said the friar boldly. ‘But protestations do not make innocence.’
‘I would hear what this is all about,’ said John.
He was told briefly. ‘It is not even a clever plot,’ he said. ‘It is arrant nonsense. I tell you, I am innocent of any will to do you harm. I will take on any in battle who accuse me and prove myself.’