‘King Henry improves by the day, Lord York. I do not doubt he will take up the reins of government once again.’
‘Of course, of course,’ York replied. ‘We all pray that it is so. Now I am honoured that you came to meet me, my lady. Yet I am called. If you will permit, I should go in to witness the vote.’
He bowed again before Margaret could reply. She watched him sweep into the White Chamber, wilting as the will to face him faded. Yet his men still observed her from under lowered brows and she raised her head, leading her entourage away. She knew what they intended, those lords who spoke so often of the need for strong rule, while her husband struggled and choked in his waking sleep.
As York entered, Oldhall puffed out his cheeks, desperately relieved to see his patron the duke both safe and present. As York took his seat on the ancient oak benches, Oldhall rose to speak, clearing his throat.
‘My lords, if you would come to order,’ Oldhall called across their heads. He stood at a lectern in front of a gilded chair, raised above the benches so he could address them all. The noise fell away.
‘My lords, it is my honour to give thanks for your presence today. I ask that you bow your heads in prayer.’
Every man there either dipped his head or knelt on the floor at his seat.
‘Lord, the God of righteousness and truth, grant to the king and to his lords the guidance of your spirit. May they never lead the nation on the wrong path, through love of power, or desire to please, but lay aside all private interests and keep in mind their responsibility to mankind and to the king, so may your kingdom come and your name be hallowed. The Grace of our Lord Jesus Christ, the love of God and the Fellowship of the Holy Ghost be with us all. Amen.’
The last word was echoed by those present. They sat back, knowing every detail of what was to come, but still attentive and alert. The gathering was simply the last part of months of negotiation and argument. The result was already set in stone, for all it had to be enacted.
‘King Henry’s state has remained unchanged for five months, my lords,’ Oldhall went on, his voice trembling with tension. ‘He cannot be roused and, in his illness, the king lacks the sense and capacity to rule. Therefore, for the good of the kingdom, I propose one amongst us be recognized as Protector and Defender of the Realm, to be arbiter and final authority until such time as King Henry recovers, or the succession is established elsewhere.’
Oldhall swallowed nervously as he saw Lord York’s mouth twitch. The queen’s pregnancy was the only barb to prick his pleasure that day. The deals and alliances had all been made. It was done, the necessary result of her husband’s blank stares and inability to speak. Oldhall cleared his throat to go on, his hands shaking so much that he gripped the lectern to hold them still.
‘Before we proceed to a vote on this matter, who among you will offer himself as Protector and Defender to the kingdom for the period of the king’s illness?’
All eyes turned to York, who rose slowly from his seat.
‘With great reluctance, I offer my service to my lords and my king.’
‘Is there another?’ Oldhall asked. He made a show of looking, though he knew no one else would stand. Those earls and dukes who were still staunch in their support for King Henry were not present on the benches. Somerset was missing, as were the king’s half-brothers, Edmund and Jasper Tudor. Oldhall nodded, satisfied.
‘My lords, I call a vote. Please rise and pass to the division lobbies.’
The two narrow rooms lay on either side of the White Chamber. To a man, the lords rose from their benches and walked into ‘Content’, leaving the ‘Discontent’ room empty. York was the only one of their number who remained in place, a small smile playing at the edges of his mouth. Clerks took the names, but it was a mere formality. When they returned, the mood was lighter and York was smiling and accepting congratulations from Warwick, Salisbury and the rest of his supporters.
Oldhall waited for them to settle once again before he delivered the judgment.
‘Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York, it is the will of the Lords Temporal and Spiritual that you be appointed Protector and Defender of the Realm. Do you accept the appointment?’
‘I do,’ York replied.
A cheer rose from the benches on either side of him and Oldhall sat back in relief, wiping his forehead. They’d done it. From that moment, York was king in all but name. Richard of York inclined his head to his peers. He stood tall among the assembly of noblemen, his pride showing clearly.