So died the proud Duke of Gloucester.
Richard congratulated himself on his prompt action. The three main protagonists were all taken care of. Only one of them lived – the Earl of Warwick – and he had never been the menace that the other two had presented. Warwick had been drawn into the conspiracy almost against his will. At his trial he had confessed to his guilt and had implored the King’s pardon. There was no point in sending him to his death. There had been enough death already and after the manner of the people, death was the accolade of saintliness. They were even saying that miracles were being performed on Arundel’s grave now.
No, let Warwick be sentenced to forfeiture and imprisonment for life. He had been sent to the Isle of Man where he would be under the control of the governor there, William le Scrope, who was not the man to show much leniency to a self-confessed traitor to the King.
With Arundel dead and Warwick imprisoned and Gloucester dying rather mysteriously in Calais there remained only one thing to be done. Gloucester’s body must be brought to England and given decent burial.
There were rumours about the cause of his death for at the time of his arrest Gloucester had been a healthy man. Richard wanted no martyrdom for this far from saintly uncle.
He sent for one of the priests that he might give him personal instructions as to how his uncle’s body was to be dealt with.
The priest came to the King and when they faced each other Richard was struck with amazement, for the priest was so like himself that had they been dressed in similar clothes it would scarcely have been possible to tell them apart.
‘Who are you?’ asked Richard.
‘Richard Maudelyn at your service, my lord.’
Richard said: ‘I am struck with amazement. It must be obvious to you that we resemble each other very closely.’
The priest smiled. ‘My lord, all my life I have been told that I bear a close resemblance to you.’
‘It is remarkable,’ Richard smiled. ‘There must be some blood tie.’
‘I have often thought so, my lord.’
‘Your parents …’
‘My parents are dead, sir.’
‘I wonder …’
‘It is possible, my lord.’
Richard was thoughtful. His father had been a faithful husband but Richard knew that he had at least one illegitimate son, who had been born before he married. Richard Maudelyn was about ten years older than he was. It was possible.
‘I am so overwhelmed by this unusual resemblance,’ said the King, ‘that I forgot the reason why I sent for you. You know that the Duke of Gloucester has died in Calais. I want you to see that his body is taken to his widow for burial in Westminster Abbey.’
‘It shall be done, my lord.’
‘And, Richard Maudelyn, when it is done, I would have you wait on me again.’
‘Thank you, my lord.’
Richard had taken such a fancy to his double that he gave him a post in his household.
They became great friends and everyone was startled by the resemblance. Richard Maudelyn’s voice was even like the King’s and he could with the utmost ease give an impersonation of his master which was indistinguishable to many of his courtiers.
Richard was amused and liked to play little tricks on them, changing clothes with Maudelyn. Sometimes they did not let people into the deception, and Richard began to realise that Maudelyn could often take his place. He had even ridden through the city and acknowledged the greetings of the people.
It occurred to Richard and those close to him that there might come a time when this strange quirk of fate could be put to good use.
Thomas Mowbray was uneasy. It was true that as Earl of Nottingham he had helped bring Warwick, Arundel and Gloucester to justice and for his services he had been created Duke of Norfolk. The King though had shown himself to be one who would not easily forget an insult. And Mowbray, though now Duke of Norfolk, had been one of the five who had confronted Richard on that memorable occasion years ago. The King had had his revenge on three of them. Two remained, himself and Bolingbroke, now Duke of Hereford.
Norfolk remembered the King’s outburst against Arundel when he reminded him of his implacable and relentless pursuit of Simon Burley. To bring it up after all those years showed how it had rankled. Richard was one who would never forget an injury; and it was logical to assume that that occasion when the five lords had faced him and made him their prisoner, was something which would remain in his memory. And he would want revenge on all five.
There was one other who had been present on that occasion – one of the five – and that was Bolingbroke.
One day when Norfolk was travelling between Brentford and London he met Hereford. They stopped at an inn and drank some ale and during their conversation Norfolk broached the subject which had been uppermost in his mind.
‘Do you think,’ he said, ‘that the King is ever going to forget that you and I were each one of the five Lords Appellant?’
‘My dear Norfolk,’ replied Hereford, ‘that happened years ago.’
‘But the King is not one to forget and forgive.’
‘The matter is over and done with.’
‘What of Gloucester? What of Warwick and Arundel?’
‘They plotted recently. We have our pardons.’
‘What are you proposing?’ asked Hereford.
‘That we should consider this matter very carefully. We have our enemies. They could be advising the King to take action against us.’
‘You are suggesting that we take some action?’
‘I would suggest you think of it, my lord.’
Hereford was thoughtful. He was wary of Norfolk who had had too many honours bestowed on him and was becoming too powerful.
He decided to see his father, tell him what had happened and ask his advice.
Lancaster was at Ely House in Holborn with his Duchess and it was here that his son came to see him.
He had aged considerably in the last years, but there was a serenity about him which he had lacked before. He was undoubtedly happy in his marriage and Catherine was assiduous in her care of him.
She welcomed Henry warmly but at the same time she was uneasy and when she heard why he had come her apprehension increased.
It had seemed terrible to her that Gloucester and Arundel should have died as they did. She had little cause to love them, it was true; it was their wives who had done everything they could to discomfort her. They were spiteful women but she bore no rancour towards them. They did not know the happiness she did; and she would never cease to be proud of the fact that John had flouted them all for her sake.
And now Henry’s coming meant trouble.
He recounted what Norfolk had said.
‘What should be done?’ he asked his father.
‘You stand well with the King,’ replied Lancaster. ‘But who can say that Norfolk’s words and your reply were not overheard. It may well be that someone has already carried an account of them to Richard. Words can be misconstrued and this could be dangerous. My son, there is one thing you must do with all speed, and that is to go to the King and tell him of this conversation between you and Norfolk.’
Henry nodded. ‘I think it is the wisest course of action,’ he agreed. ‘I will go to him at once before he can hear another account of it.’
‘Go with all speed,’ advised Lancaster.
He stood with Catherine watching his son ride away.
‘We live in dangerous times,’ he said.
Catherine shuddered.
‘There is no need to fear for me,’ he went on, smiling tenderly at her. ‘I have learned my lessons well, Catherine, and I think Henry is learning his.’