Loyalty Read Online Free PDF Page B

eyes flashed with the same fire that he remembered from his brief glimpse of her at Blore Heath. They bored into his now, as he kissed her hand and gazed up at her.
       As James had expected, her eyes were full of fierce intelligence, but no recognition. “I don’t know you, sir,” she said with a little frown, “I have no memory of you from the French court.”
       “Nor would you, Majesty,” he replied humbly, “I am an Englishman but lately come to France with the Earl of Warwick. My name is James Bolton.”
       “He hails from Staffordshire,” put in Prince Edward, “his father died fighting for us at Blore Heath.”
       Margaret withdrew her hand. “Indeed?” she said coldly, “then why are you in the service of a traitor, Master Bolton? Does your father’s soul not cry out for shame?”
       James nervously moistened his lips. “Much has changed, Majesty,” he said, “my lord of Warwick and the Duke of Clarence were recently obliged to quit England, pursued by the false king, Edward of March.”      
       “This much I know. Warwick has been playing pirate since in the Channel, a fit occupation for one who was never more than a titled thief. A shame he and his former protégé did not die on each other’s blades.”
       Her tone was stern, and full of venomous hatred. James could almost taste the tension in the air as he ploughed on.
       “Majesty, my lord recently sailed into Honfleur and sent a message to King Louis. The earl has cast off his former allegiance, and is ready to reinstate the House of Lancaster on the throne of England.”  
       Margaret said nothing. A vein started to pulse in the side of her thin neck, and a faint red blush became visible under her shield of paint. Prince Edward looked equally dumbstruck. One or two of the hard-faced men in the background uttered curses.
       Gauvaine chose this moment to intervene. “King Louis was initially surprised by milord Warwick’s change in allegiance,” he said smoothly, “but has come to appreciate the value of it. His Majesty has agreed to lend money and troops to assist Warwick in this venture. All that remains is Your Majesty’s assent to it.”
       “It is a serious offer,” he added, “think of it, Majesty! If King Louis helps to place your husband back on his rightful throne, he can insist on an Anglo-French alliance against Burgundy. England and France will no longer be at daggers drawn, but friends and allies.”
       Margaret didn’t seem to hear him. She turned away, open-mouthed, her long fingers twisting together. James watched her with some alarm, fearing that she might collapse.
       “What of Warwick’s creature, the Duke of Clarence?” her son asked sharply, “it is said Warwick promised to make him King once Edward of March was disposed of. Has he been cast aside?”
       “I cannot speak for Clarence,” said James, “only that my lord regards the claim of King Henry VI and his successors as paramount.”
       He had grown accustomed to telling lies for the sake of policy, otherwise this one might have stuck in his throat. In truth he knew full well that Clarence’s usefulness to Warwick lay purely in his royal blood. King Louis had no interest in placing Clarence on the throne, and now the duke was married to Warwick’s daughter he could be safely sidelined. To say as much would be going beyond his remit.
       “So the Yorkist pigs have turned on each other,” said Edward after a moment’s thought. “Therein is our opportunity.”
       All eyes turned to Margaret. Her eyes were closed, and she was rigid and trembling, as though bracing herself against some terrible internal pain.
       James exchanged worried glances with Gauvaine. He knew something of the sad and dangerous life that the Queen had led, her brief moments of victory among an endless chain of defeats and disappointment. For Warwick’s plan to succeed, it was necessary for her to be the brave and