Page 67 of The Raven and the Rose
It seemed to Roseanna that the Queen was not going to speak with her, so she did an unheard-of thing and spoke first. She dropped one knee in a curtsey and said, “Your Grace, I beg you to allow me to speak.”
Elizabeth drew in her breath in shock. “Who are you?” she demanded coldly.
“I am Lady Roseanna Montford, Ravenspur’s wife.”
The Queen’s eyebrows went up, and she was visibly relieved. So she was not one of the King’s whores, after all. Ravenspur’s new bride would be out of bounds to the King. After all, hadn’t Ravenspur mutilated his last wife for faithlessness? “Follow me,” commanded Elizabeth. Roseanna fell in with her ladies-in-waiting, and the procession moved gracefully from the public dining hall to one of the Queen’s sitting rooms. “Speak!” commanded Elizabeth, settling herself onto a thronelike padded chair with a footstool.
“Your Grace, the message is bad news, and I hate to upset you. But the King has been taken prisoner and is being held at Middleham Castle. I speak the truth, Your Majesty—I saw him with my own eyes.”
“Warwick! That whoreson Warwick is my sworn enemy!”
“Your Grace, I have ridden without rest from Middleham to bring you the King’s urgent warning. He said he was in no immediate danger, but that I was to get you to sanctuary because they mean to kill you.”
“God wither Warwick’s hand if he dares raise it against me, the insufferable bastard!”
“Madame, from what my husband told me of Warwick, he dares!” answered Roseanna.
When her women began babbling with fear, the Queen held up her hand for silence. “As a precaution you will ready my household, and tomorrow we will take temporary sanctuary at Westminster.”
The doors burst open, and the deputy chamberlain hurried in. He bowed low. “Your Grace, there is rioting in the streets of London because it is rumored that the King has been taken prisoner.”
Fear showed on Elizabeth’s face. “What is being said in the streets?”
“It is rumored that Warwick will set up George as King, but the people will have none of it!”
“I told Edward to put those damned brothers of his in the Tower! They are so jealous of my family, they will stop at nothing to ensure our downfall.”
Roseanna urged, “Your Grace, you must go into sanctuary tonight. Tomorrow may be too late!”
The Queen’s face, pale as a rare pearl, went white. “My little girls,” she whispered, then said to Roseanna, “I have three little girls by Edward, three royal princesses I must get to safety.”
My half sisters,realized Roseanna with a jolt.
“My sons, Montague! Holy Mother of God, get word to my sons Thomas and Richard Grey.” Then she had an afterthought. “My mother. Send for my mother, and I will take her with me into sanctuary. Hurry, hurry! Return with her within the hour,” instructed Elizabeth.
Her women scattered, some to the nurseries to ready the children, others to the Queen’s bedchamber to pack the clothing and linen needed for a stay in sanctuary. If it were of any duration, she would have her lying-in there, and that meant moving a great deal of baggage from Greenwich.
“Someone stay with me,” cried Elizabeth. Roseanna said quietly, “I will stay, Your Grace.”
Roseanna had been prepared to detest Elizabeth Woodville, and her first few moments with the brittle woman confirmed all her preconceived ideas about her. Yet there was something about the woman that Roseanna admired. Her towering ambition was not for herself alone but for her family. She had to be in her middle thirties, yet she kept an immaculate, youthful appearance that would attract a man of any age. At her age she had been willing to bear the King three daughters and apparently would go on bearing him children until she produced the desired male heir to the throne.
Roseanna’s thoughts strayed to the child that was more than likely already in her own womb. Would she fight as bravely for her child’s position in life as Elizabeth was doing for her children? The answer was a resounding yes.
The three little princesses were brought down by their nursemaids, and their baggage was piled by the door. The Queen’s women added her boxes; the stack of luggage reached toward the ceiling. A message was sent to the Royal Bargemaster at the Lambeth Sheds to ready the King’s barge and anchor it in readiness at Greenwich Palace.
When it arrived, Elizabeth was urged to go aboard, but she insisted on waiting for her mother. Myriad servants began to transfer the Queen’s baggage to the barge, and the little girls were taken aboard. Lady Margery brought the Queen’s white furs and wrapped her in their splendor. Just as Roseanna was thinking she had never seen anything so exquisite in her life, Montague burst in and announced baldly, “Your Grace, your mother has been arrested for witchcraft!”
Elizabeth clutched her belly with both hands as if to protect the unborn child. She cried,“Mon dieu, mon dieu!If she comes to harm, I’ll tear Warwick to pieces with my own hands.”
Roseanna, annoyed that Montague had shouted the news to a woman in her condition, said to Lady Margery, “I think the physician should be sent for. We cannot wait longer. Send a message that the Queen goes into sanctuary at Westminster and that his services will be needed very shortly.”
With Roseanna on one side and Lady Margery on the other, Elizabeth Woodville, refusing their aid, walked regally from the palace. The servants were assembled with torches to light the quay where the Royal Barge stood waiting. It was painted gaily in the York colors of murrey and blue and was heavily gilded. On both sides was painted the device of a White Rose upon the Sun in Splendour; it had ten strong rowers. Roseanna shivered as the barge’s torches streamed their tails of sparks into the barge passed Dowgate Hill, where Warwick’s townhouse, the Erba, stood, Elizabeth Woodville spat into the water, and she put a curse upon the kingmaker. They went under London Bridge and the other bridges before the barge slowed in its approach to the Palace Stairs of Westminster.
It was a miracle that the Queen and her little girls reached sanctuary, for before midnight that same night Westminster was swarming with Warwick’s men-at-arms in their scarlet livery emblazoned with the Golden Bear and Ragged Staff. Guards were at every entrance and exit to the Queen’s apartments; none were allowed in, and none were allowed out.
Roseanna discovered that information could be gleaned from the guards on the door; they could not resist taunting the vile Woodville bitch and her women. She learned that Elizabeth’s mother, Jacquette, was in the Tower, but that Elizabeth’s sons from her first marriage, Thomas and Richard Grey, had gone into hiding and could not be found.
One week melted into the next. The Queen spent her time bathing, dressing, having her hair styled, adorning herself with jewels, playing with her children, and listening to her ladies’ endless gossip. Roseanna had never seen such magnificent gowns in her life. The styles at the Queen’s Court were entirely different from what they were in the North. The sleeves of gowns were very important here and were slashed to show the brilliant color of the material underneath. The bodices were cut so low, they were considered indecent outside the Court; bosoms were bared almost to the nipple.
