For eagles of a lesser kind
On which scholars choose to bate.
7
SHERIFF HUTTON CASTLE, YORKSHIRE – 1490
‘Is it a real castle?’ asked twelve-year-old Edmund, as he moved one of the leather covers aside and peered out of the carriage.
It had been a bumpy, boring and uncomfortable ride from Norfolk to their new home of Sheriff Hutton Castle, a few miles outside York.
‘Papa claimed so,’ replied Elizabeth. ‘Let’s hope it is not a ruin left behind from the wars.’
Their father, Thomas Howard, restored the previous year as Earl of Surrey, had been sent north to prove his loyalty. The honorary title of Warden of the East and Middle Marches technically belonged to two-year-old Prince Arthur, but the duties fell to Thomas.
The earl rode at the head of the procession with his steward, Sir Philip Tilney of Shelley, who usually ran the earl’s home of Framlington Castle in Suffolk. Philip was a cousin of Countess Elizabeth and he and his wife, Margaret, were an important part of the household. The two men’s heads were bowed in discussion over the work the earl would undertake to keep the peace in the north.
Behind the earl and his men, the Countess of Surrey and her ladies alternated between their horses and their carriage. Philip’s younger sister, Agnes, had joined the household in its move to Yorkshire from her quiet family home in Lincolnshire in order to learn the correct way to run a great estate. Elizabeth watched from the window of the carriage as Agnes rode close beside the countess. Due to Agnes’s nervousness about being away from home for the first time, the countess had taken a special interest in her young cousin. In the past few days, Elizabeth had often overheard the two women discussing the most efficient and pleasant way to set up the new household.
Elizabeth, Edmund and their half-sister, Lady Anne Bourchier, rode with their maids, Mrs Pettigrew and Mrs Mihill, under the watchful eye of Edmund’s tutor, the broad-shouldered and powerfully built Walter Burnam. Elizabeth’s younger sister, Muriel, and their youngest brothers John, Henry, Charles and Richard rode with their nursemaids in the carriage behind. Her older brothers, Thomas the Younger, Edward and her half-brother, John Bourchier, were not with them. Each of the young men was forging a career for themselves at court and would visit when there was time.
For Elizabeth, the distance between them felt strange. She was used to being closer to London, to her brothers, to the court, and she wondered how often they would make the journey. She would especially miss her brother Edward, who was the funniest and kindest of her siblings, although Thomas could occasionally surprise her with his lavish gifts and sense of humour. John was thirteen years her senior and she was in awe of her half-brother but he, too, was funny, making up nonsense poems and creating silly dances to amuse her, even though at twenty-three years old, he was an adult awaiting a vast inheritance and the title of 2nd Baron Berners.
‘Papa decreed Mama shall be our queen and I shall be queen whenever she’s away.’
Elizabeth giggled and Anne snorted with laughter.
‘Do you aim to be queen, Lizzie?’ she teased. ‘To marry a king and rule the country like Queen Elizabeth does beside King Henry.’
‘Queen Elizabeth was already a princess,’ said Elizabeth. ‘She was the daughter of King Edward and Queen Elizabeth Woodville?—’
‘The Witch Queen,’ butted in Edmund with glee.
‘She wasn’t a witch,’ snapped Anne, but Edmund pulled a grotesque face and continued undeterred.
‘Shewasa witch,’ he sneered, ‘and an evil one, who ensnared the king with her lustful magic even though he was already betrothed. Good King Richard saved us all from her devil-born sons the day he asked Papa and Grandpapa to remove the two princes from the Tower of London?—’
There was a ringing slap and a yelp, making them all start. Edmund’s face smarted scarlet from the strong palm of Walter Burnam. Elizabeth reached for Anne’s hand, shocked by the swift and sudden violence.
‘Shut your noise now,’ snarled Walter. ‘Your father and grandfather had nothing to do with the missing princes. People have lost their lives for saying less.’
‘But—’ began Edmund.
‘The rumours that they were elevated to the dukedom and earldom after murdering the boys is rubbish,’ snapped Walter. ‘You should know better, Master Edmund. You’re a young man, soon to be called to court like your brothers. It’s time you began behaving as such, rather than repeating dangerous ill-founded gossip.’
Edmund blinked back his tears of fury at having been struck but before he could speak again, Elizabeth said, ‘Papa believesthe princes are alive but have been sent to live abroad. This was why the king knew the pretender Lambert Simnel was an imposter.’
‘Quite right, Lizzie,’ said Anne, in a calm voice, glaring at Walter Burnam. ‘Whatever happened to them, neither your father nor your grandfather were involved.’
An uneasy silence fell in the carriage. The two maids shifted uncomfortably. Burnam, unconcerned by the atmosphere, rested his head on the window and fell immediately asleep. After a few moments, his undignified whistling snores rang out, causing the three siblings to grin at each other in glee while they tried to stifle their laughter.
‘Do you think we’ll be invited to court one day?’ said Elizabeth as the coach turned down the driveway to the manor house where they would be spending the night.
‘Of course,’ Anne said, ‘and by then we shall be betrothed to powerful men.’
‘Is it true Mama plans to find you a husband soon?’
‘Yes, she has begun searching for a suitable match and it’s possible I may soon be engaged to Thomas Fiennes, 8th Baron Dacre of the South. We’re the same age and he has excellent prospects. Both Mama and Step-Papa believe it’s important to marry for love if possible but definitely for us to be friends. When we’re settled, Step-Papa says he will bring Baron Fiennes for a visit.’
