‘Murdered! The Duchess! My lord, how could you possibly have thought such a thing!’
‘I know it,’ said Clarence. ‘The Queen gave you instructions. You are her woman, are you not?’
‘I served the Queen.’
‘Most effectively I see.’
‘You are very mistaken, my lord. The Queen wished nothing but good to the Duchess and she sent me to help her. I loved my lady.’
‘I see through lies, madam. Do not imagine that you can outwit me.’
‘My lord ... This is monstrous ... this is ...’
‘Take the woman away.’
Ankarette lay on a pallet in one of the small rooms of the castle. This was like a nightmare. What could it mean? The poor Duchess had been weak before her confinement. She had never been a strong woman. The doctors had shaken their heads over her condition and Ankarette knew that they feared that she might not come safely through. And now she was accused of murdering her! It was such nonsense.
And yet ... there was a wildness in the Duke of Clarence, a determination to prove her guilty. Why? Why select her? What harm had she ever done him?
She tossed on her pallet. Sleep was impossible. A glimmer of understanding was coming to her. This was not an attack by Clarence on her ... but on the Queen.
It must be solved. It was nonsensical. The Duke was intoxicated. He often was. In the light of morning he would have recovered and realised the ridiculousness of this accusation.
It was a relief when dawn came. The guards came to her. They were losing no time and were taking her to the court without delay.
The proceedings were quickly over. The Duke of Clarence accused Ankarette Twynhoe of murder. She had come ostensibly to serve the Duchess but in fact to bring about her death. The Duchess had sickened from the moment Ankarette entered the household and all knew that she had died. Her death had been brought about by poison which had been administered by Ankarette Twynhoe.
That was Clarence’s case against her. He ordered the jury to find her guilty and they did.
‘This woman deserves a fearful death,’ said Clarence, ‘but we will be merciful and let her die by hanging.’
Ankarette protested her innocence. She was still bewildered by the suddenness of this accusation. Two days ago she had been in her own home entertaining her daughter and son-in-law, and now here she was face to face with death.
There was no point in delay, Clarence said. Let the hanging take place at once. Everything was in readiness. They would leave the hall and the deed should be done.
They took her out. She stood for a few moments looking up at the blue April sky. Suddenly she heard the song of a chaffinch and the realisation came to her that she would never hear that again.
One of the jury who had condemned her was standing close by looking at her.
‘Forgive me,’ he said.
She bowed her head; she was amazed that the anguished look in his eyes could touch her at such a moment.
He went on: ‘You are innocent. It is wicked. I dared not say so. I despise myself. But I was afraid of the might of the Duke of Clarence. He wanted this verdict and we had to give it.’
‘I understand,’ she said.
A man was at her side. ‘They are waiting,’ he said. And he led her to the hangman.
It was impossible for Edward not to hear of what had happened to Elizabeth’s one-time serving woman Ankarette Twynhoe.
He did not discuss the matter with Elizabeth although he knew that this was meant to be a blow at her because she had actually recommended Ankarette to the Duchess of Clarence. He did, however, speak to Hastings about it for it was very much on his mind.
‘What do you think of my brother’s latest exploit?’ he asked his friend.
‘He has usurped your powers in arresting that woman and in hanging her immediately after the trial.’
‘And we know the trial was no real one. The jury are saying that they believed the woman innocent and were forced to bring in a verdict of guilty because my brother demanded it.’
‘There will be trouble with Clarence, Edward.’
‘There has always been trouble with Clarence. But this is a flagrant abuse of rights. To kill the woman for no reason but ... but what, William? What motive had he for this foolish and wicked act?’
‘To discredit the Queen and perhaps yourself.’
Edward nodded. ‘How long can it go on?’
‘As long as you allow it.’
‘He is my brother. I have forgiven him again and again, but William, the time has come when I can endure no more. I have begun to think that he would plot against my life.’
‘Only just begun to, my lord? Don’t forget he sided with Warwick and fought against you when he believed there was a chance of displacing you and taking the crown for himself. He would do so again ... given the chance.’
‘And this is the brother I have favoured! I have forgiven him time and time again; and all the time he seeks to stab me in the back.’
‘At least you now realise it.’
‘Always knew it but wouldn’t face it. You know my nature. I want to think well of everyone.’
‘Even when they prove themselves to be your enemy? I know you well, Edward. You doubted me once ... I who have ever been your faithful friend. It would be well now to direct a little more watchfulness towards the Duke of Clarence, for I have a notion, my lord, that we must be careful indeed.’
Edward nodded. Hastings was right.
Clarence rarely came to Court. He wanted to give the impression that since his wife and child had been poisoned on the instigation of the Woodvilles they might well turn their attention to him.
He made a rule of never eating while at Court. He would make such elaborate excuses which said as clearly as though he had uttered the words: ‘I fear that I may be poisoned.’
Edward was losing patience with him; moreover people were talking about the end of Ankarette; the fact that she was so hastily despatched and several members of the jury had declared that they deeply repented having pronounced her guilty, for guilty she was most certainly not and they had given their verdict out of fear of the Duke of Clarence.
Rivers was very watchful of Clarence. Edward could understand that. Who could know what wild plots were even at this time forming in Clarence’s mind? The case of Ankarette Twynhoe was an indication of what great lengths he would go to – however absurd – to point a finger at his enemies. Clarence was a fool, thought Edward, but fools could make a great deal of trouble, and he could never be sure what Clarence was plotting and what turn such plots would take. Of one thing he was sure: Clarence had always wanted the throne and had resented Edward’s being the elder, and whichever way he looked he must see Clarence as a menace.
He should have taken some action over the case of Ankarette, for it was so clear that the woman had been completely innocent and the case against her had been trumped up by Clarence. If he could behave as he had, wreaking vengeance on an innocent woman just to prove that the Queen was really the guilty party, he would be guilty of any folly. Elizabeth said little as was her wont but she had been greatly disturbed over Ankarette’s death and understandably so.
Hastings learned from one of the women with whom he consorted that certain soothsayers and necromancers were drawing up horoscopes of the King and the Prince of Wales, to try to discover how long they had to live. Hastings thought it wise to report this to Edward, because when soothsayers and such like acted so it was usually at the request of someone who was interested in the death of a certain person.
Hastings had traced the horoscopes to a Dr John Stacey of Merton College, Oxford, and he suggested that the King look into the matter and discover why this man was casting these horoscopes and at whose instigation.