best to take Margaret to court now. There had already been unfavorable comment about the fact that she had not paid homage to the queen. Stafford ground his teeth. The Woodvilles were hinting that Margaret had refused to come to court. They hoped to build a strong enough case of lies against her to make her seem guilty of treason so that the king could confiscate her properties.
"Very well," Stafford said, "if you do not know, you do not. I will tell you once more that Henry would be safer here than taking a death chill while he hides in hedges and ditches. When you have word from him, tell me. Now, there is something else. The queen desires that you come to court."
For a few moments Margaret kept her eyes lowered. She did not wish Stafford to see the blaze of satisfaction in them. Then she looked up. "Does this displease you, my lord?" she asked meekly.
"Displease me? No, no. Of course it does not displease me." All he needed, Stafford thought, was to have his fool of a wife say that in public. He would be the one with confiscated estates. "Why should your going to court displease me? I was a trifle concerned because your manner may cause you trouble. It is necessary to hold oneself very lowly before the queen, very lowly indeed."
Consternation flooded Margaret's face. "Am I so stained by the sin of pride?" she asked anxiously. "Do I seem to hold myself too high?"
"No, Margaret, for God's sake, do not undertake a whole series of penances to humble your soul. I did not say you were too proud. To me, your manner could not be bettered. The fault—and do not repeat this—lies in the fact that the queen was not born of high enough estate. Her pride needs constantly to be upheld. Do you know that she demanded that her own mother and the king's sister, the king's own sister, serve her upon their knees? Once her mother fainted before she was permitted to rise."
"Thou shalt honor thy father and thy mother," Margaret murmured.
"Now, that," Stafford exclaimed with intense irritation, "is exactly what I meant to warn you against. You must not say things like that to the queen."
"I did not make up those words, my lord. They are God's commands to mankind."
"Do not be so stupid!" Stafford shouted. "What has God's word to do with the queen? Leave her soul to her chaplain."
"Yes, my lord."
Margaret shrank back a little as if alarmed by his violence, and Stafford came forward and patted her shoulder kindly. With an effort, Margaret kept herself from shrinking further. It would have been unkind and, as to her general feeling, untrue. It was only when his weak character was openly displayed, as it was in this fear of the queen, that Margaret felt she despised Stafford. And she had no right to complain. She had chosen him deliberately for just the characteristics that repelled her now. Jasper, Margaret thought, oh, Jasper.
Some weeks later it was as if Margaret were hearing an echo of the cry in her heart, for the queen was saying sharply, "Jasper! Jasper! You do not seem to have any other answer to any question we ask. Have you never thought or planned for yourself?"
Margaret looked into the haughty, still-beautiful face. The large, slightly protuberant almond-shaped eyes stared back from either side of the fine, straight nose above the exquisite mouth. The petulant droop of Queen Elizabeth's lips alone marred the loveliness of that perfect oval face framed in a glory of golden hair.
"What had I to plan, Your Grace?" Margaret murmured. "When my husband died, I was given into Pem—I beg pardon, to Jasper Tudor's care. He left my son to me. Why should I care for anything else, except, of course, my salvation?"
"You are a silly woman, but not so silly as that. We think Jasper Tudor spent overmuch time in your company, and you were ready enough to receive him."
Suddenly the queen's meaning penetrated to Margaret's mind. Elizabeth was not probing for political news about Henry and Jasper, who were now known to be in the court of
"Very well," Stafford said, "if you do not know, you do not. I will tell you once more that Henry would be safer here than taking a death chill while he hides in hedges and ditches. When you have word from him, tell me. Now, there is something else. The queen desires that you come to court."
For a few moments Margaret kept her eyes lowered. She did not wish Stafford to see the blaze of satisfaction in them. Then she looked up. "Does this displease you, my lord?" she asked meekly.
"Displease me? No, no. Of course it does not displease me." All he needed, Stafford thought, was to have his fool of a wife say that in public. He would be the one with confiscated estates. "Why should your going to court displease me? I was a trifle concerned because your manner may cause you trouble. It is necessary to hold oneself very lowly before the queen, very lowly indeed."
Consternation flooded Margaret's face. "Am I so stained by the sin of pride?" she asked anxiously. "Do I seem to hold myself too high?"
"No, Margaret, for God's sake, do not undertake a whole series of penances to humble your soul. I did not say you were too proud. To me, your manner could not be bettered. The fault—and do not repeat this—lies in the fact that the queen was not born of high enough estate. Her pride needs constantly to be upheld. Do you know that she demanded that her own mother and the king's sister, the king's own sister, serve her upon their knees? Once her mother fainted before she was permitted to rise."
"Thou shalt honor thy father and thy mother," Margaret murmured.
"Now, that," Stafford exclaimed with intense irritation, "is exactly what I meant to warn you against. You must not say things like that to the queen."
"I did not make up those words, my lord. They are God's commands to mankind."
"Do not be so stupid!" Stafford shouted. "What has God's word to do with the queen? Leave her soul to her chaplain."
"Yes, my lord."
Margaret shrank back a little as if alarmed by his violence, and Stafford came forward and patted her shoulder kindly. With an effort, Margaret kept herself from shrinking further. It would have been unkind and, as to her general feeling, untrue. It was only when his weak character was openly displayed, as it was in this fear of the queen, that Margaret felt she despised Stafford. And she had no right to complain. She had chosen him deliberately for just the characteristics that repelled her now. Jasper, Margaret thought, oh, Jasper.
Some weeks later it was as if Margaret were hearing an echo of the cry in her heart, for the queen was saying sharply, "Jasper! Jasper! You do not seem to have any other answer to any question we ask. Have you never thought or planned for yourself?"
Margaret looked into the haughty, still-beautiful face. The large, slightly protuberant almond-shaped eyes stared back from either side of the fine, straight nose above the exquisite mouth. The petulant droop of Queen Elizabeth's lips alone marred the loveliness of that perfect oval face framed in a glory of golden hair.
"What had I to plan, Your Grace?" Margaret murmured. "When my husband died, I was given into Pem—I beg pardon, to Jasper Tudor's care. He left my son to me. Why should I care for anything else, except, of course, my salvation?"
"You are a silly woman, but not so silly as that. We think Jasper Tudor spent overmuch time in your company, and you were ready enough to receive him."
Suddenly the queen's meaning penetrated to Margaret's mind. Elizabeth was not probing for political news about Henry and Jasper, who were now known to be in the court of
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