‘But what of his wife?’
‘He asked me to do what I can with the Pope.’
‘Richard … can you?’
‘I have always told Robert that I will do anything … just anything for him.’
‘I know, but you were not thinking of anything like this.’
‘I shall do what I can for him, Anne.’
She was astounded. She had not realised the extent of Richard’s devotion to his friend. Richard was watching her intently. ‘I want you to do something too, Anne.’
She waited, her heart beating faster.
‘I want you also to write to the Pope. I want you to tell him how important it is that there should be a dispensation, that Robert should marry Launcecrona.’
‘On what grounds?’ asked Anne.
‘We must think of something which makes it very necessary.’
For the first time since she had come to England Anne wanted to disagree with her husband.
Before she had been eager to love him and be loved by him. She had understood how easily his temper was aroused and had determined it never should be against her.
They had been so happy together. But now he was asking her to do something of which she could not approve.
For one thing they could hold nothing against Robert’s wife. It was true she and her husband saw little of each other but then it had been a marriage of convenience and as such had seemed satisfactory. If Robert had not fallen under the spell of the gay Bohemian there would never have been any question of divorce.
And they were drawing her into it. Little had she thought when the four of them had been so merry together that this would be the result.
They were all persuading her – Richard and the two lovers. Launcecrona was her attendant, her friend. She must do this for her.
Perhaps she was foolish. Perhaps it was a momentary weakness. Usually she liked to stand up for her own opinions. But they were all persuading her. ‘Come, Anne, what difference does it make to you? Your opinion will mean so much. Urban wants all the support he can get. He will want it from Bohemia as well as England.’
So she gave way.
How merry they were together then. Launcecrona and Robert danced round the apartment. Richard took her hand and they joined in. The four friends. Richard was contented. These were the people he loved best. He was happy with them; and he had so many cares.
It was not as though Philippa had loved her husband, Anne reasoned with herself, and Robert and Lancegrove were so happy together.
When it was known that Robert de Vere was seeking to put his wife away simply because he wanted another woman, the fury and resentment against him burned more fiercely than ever.
Was there nothing the King would not do for this man?
When the news reached Gloucester he grew pale with rage. This was an insult to his niece. How dared this fellow put aside a royal princess for the sake of a low-born Bohemian!
He would not forget this insult; but, hating Robert de Vere as he did, it was Richard whom he blamed.
He must go, he vowed secretly. He shall go.
The matrimonial affairs of Robert de Vere were like a spark which set off the conflagration. Since de Vere had become Duke of Ireland, it was asked, why did he not take action in that troublesome country? What was he doing lounging at Court, sporting with his concubine and the King and the Queen? There was work to be done.
‘Gloucester is the enemy,’ said Richard. ‘I seem to be plagued by uncles. Gloucester is worse than Lancaster. Listen. You will have to make a feint of going to Ireland, Robert. We will leave London together for I shall come to see you off. But you will not go to Ireland. We will march back to London surrounded by an army and there we shall denounce Gloucester as the traitor he is.’
It was a wild plan, as all Richard’s plans were.
They left London and made their way to Wales where they were joined by Suffolk, Sir Robert Tresilian, the harsh judge of those peasants who had been brought to trial after the great revolt, and Alexander Neville who was the Archbishop of York and had always shown allegiance to the King in his conflict with his uncles.
They were to march on London and having made sure of the Londoners’ support, summon the King’s adversaries to face a charge of treason.
Richard was welcomed in London but when it was known that Gloucester, Warwick and Arundel, realising what was happening, had gathered together a rival force and were waiting near Highgate, the Londoners changed their minds.
They were not, they declared, going to risk having their heads broken for the sake of the Duke of Ireland.
The result was that the three lords, Gloucester, Warwick and Arundel came to see the King.
Gloucester cried out that he had intended no treason against the King. It was his advisers who were making the trouble and he should rid himself of them.
Richard and his uncle faced each other, each trying to curb his anger, each wondering how far he could go.
Gloucester cried: ‘We are asking for the trial of your advisers. Nothing else will satisfy the lords.’
Richard was silent. They meant Robert de Vere, de la Pole who was the Earl of Suffolk, Alexander Neville, Archbishop of York, and Robert Tresilian, the Lord Chief Justice.
There was silence in the chamber. Richard felt fear suddenly grip him. He could not get out of his mind those nightmares which had haunted him of his great-grandfather, Edward the Second. He knew his history. It had begun with him rather like this.
When those fears came on him he felt a compulsion to give way … or appear to give way.
He relented suddenly. Gloucester and his friends must have their way. He would agree to the parliamentary impeachment of his friends.
As soon as they had gone he despatched messengers to them all.
Escape, was his command. Get away while there is time.
The wrath of Gloucester was great when he realised that the King’s favourites had escaped.
He went to Huntingdon and there was met by Henry of Bolingbroke. It was the first time the son of John of Gaunt had stepped into prominence, and none at that time – least of all Richard – was aware of the significance of this.
‘By God’s eyes,’ cried Gloucester to Henry of Bolingbroke, ‘Richard is heading for disaster. Can you see that he is setting out on the path taken by our ancestor? This man de Vere is another Gaveston. If he continues in this way he could lose him his crown.’
And if he lost his crown who then would take it?
There were lights in Gloucester’s eyes, and they were reflected in those of Henry of Bolingbroke.
Richard was desolate. There was nothing but disaster everywhere he looked. The forces against him were too strong.
He wept with Anne. ‘I am a King who has never been allowed to rule,’ he said. ‘If I had been older when I came to the throne how different everything would have been!’
She comforted him, but she knew there was little comfort to offer.
Even the people did not love them as they once had. They were fond of Richard in a way but they were not prepared to fight to keep him on the throne. As for her, she had been their mild and meek little Queen but they now blamed her for Robert de Vere’s divorce for they knew that she had written to the Pope and asked him to grant it, and they would never feel the same towards her again.
There was trouble everywhere, terrible trouble. It had been foolish really to become involved in Robert’s divorce and remarriage. For what had happened since? He and Launcecrona were parted.