Page 360 of Historical Hotties
“Why can’t you speak to the king where we can all hear what you will tell him?” he wanted to know. “If you do not dispute these rumors about the Maid, have you mayhap brought her poison here, now to deliver it to the very king you have been sworn to protect?”
Bastian wanted to respond, he truly did, but he kept his mouth shut. It was better that way, as he would not dignify de la Pole’s remarks. Without a word, he quit the chamber, escorting his young ward out into the corridor beyond. When the old nurses tried to follow, the physician called them off. This causeda great panic for the nurses but the physician assured them the boy was safe with de Russe. For the young king to be without his retinue was an uneasy concept, indeed.
The moment the door shut, Gisella turned in de la Pole’s direction. She made her way to the man, casually, but there was pure venom in her intentions. No man was going to speak to Bastian so disrespectfully and get away with it. Besides, she was not beyond playing hard politics when the situation called for it. She was going to put de la Pole into a hole and keep him there.
“I have been introduced as Lady de Russe, but do you know who I am, Sir Thomas?” she asked, pretending to be polite. “Do you recall meeting me at Bella Court?”
Thomas was frustrated that he’d been unable to engage de Russe in a confrontation and turned to Gisella prepared to vent that frustration on her.
“Nay,” he said flatly. “I do not remember you and I do not care.”
Gisella smiled thinly. “That is unfortunate,” she said, “because I remember you. I also remembering hearing a few less than flattering rumors about you as well. If you show such disrespect to my husband again, I may be forced to tell him what I have heard about you and a certain golden salt cellar that turned up missing from Lady Gloucester’s collection. Several people said they saw you smuggle it out of Bella Court after the duchess’ summer festival last month and there is further rumor that you sold it to pay for your habit of the young boys that you purchase on Watling Street. Do not look so shocked. Did you think no one knew about you and your penchant for abusing children? Odd how none of these advisors know of it when you are so close to the king. Rumors can end your ambitions, my lord. Beware you do not offend the wrong people.”
There was no mistaking her meaning. Thomas stared at her, a startled expression on his face. He had no idea what to sayto her or how to deny the rumors that were, in fact, total truth, only no one ever spoke of them. No one would dare approach him with these tales, but de Russe’s wife had no fear about it whatsoever. His mouth worked, spittle on his lips.
“You aremad,” he hissed. “You have dredged up these lies against me!”
Gisella was quite cool. In fact, she was rather enjoying his upset. “Then you will not mind if I announce the rumors to all of these people,” she said calmly. “I will tell them everything I have heard, from Lady Gloucester no less, and I do believe that her word will supersede any excuses you can give. True or not, it will cast tremendous doubt upon you and your days of political maneuvering will be over.”
Thomas was so angry that he was twitching. “Who do you think you are?” he snarled through clenched teeth. “A lowly wife to a lowly knight!”
“My grandfather was Henry of Bolingbroke,” she fired back with some restraint. “I am of royal blood, you foolish swine. Gloucester and Bedford are my uncles. If you are going to sling insults, sling them where you will have more accuracy.”
Now, the veins on Thomas’s face were starting to bulge. He knew he had to be very careful with this woman and dare not insult her any more than he already had if she was indeed related to the king. He was on uncertain ground and he hated it. He hated not being in control, especially with a woman.
“I will not confess the truth to any rumors if that is your intention,” he finally spat.
Gisella’s manner hardened. “My intention is for you to leave my husband alone,” she said. “Any more words from you to him, or about him, and I will quash you like a bug. Is that, in any way, unclear?”
Thomas didn’t reply. He simply glared at her with enough hatred to fill a moat. But it was enough for Gisella. Leaving theyoung lord white-faced with shock and trembling with fury, she turned away and returned to her position over near the lancet windows where she had been originally standing. She made eye contact with Thomas once more, only to offer him a smug smile, before turning her attention elsewhere.
Aye, she’d heard about Thomas de la Pole. And Bastian would, too.
*
It was coolin the corridor outside the king’s chamber in the St. Thomas Tower as Bastian and the young monarch made their way down the narrow stairs that dumped them out into the outer ward of the Tower of London. The Wakefield Tower was directly in front of them, a massive stone cylinder that reached for the sky. They were next to the river and a cool breeze blew in off the water, making the humidity of the weather more bearable.
Bastian waited for the young king to take the lead and go in the direction he wanted to go but the child stood there, looking at him. It was clear he was waiting for someone to tell him where to go, so Bastian began to walk, heading towards the Develin Tower towards the east. The young king followed.
“May I speak, Your Grace?” Bastian asked.
The boy nodded his head, but he was looking around rather curiously. He almost tripped over his feet twice because his attention was on other things. Bastian couldn’t help but notice the great interest in his surroundings.
“Are you looking for someone or something, Your Grace?” he asked. “Can I help you locate whatever it is you seek?”
The boy shook his head, then looked to Bastian with a rather confused expression. “I do not go out without my nurses or my guards,” he said. “They are so tall that I do not get to see much. They are always crowded around me.”
Bastian came to a halt, remembering what Gisella had told him once.I wonder if he even has a free will?Bastian knew the young monarch was closely guarded, his every move dictated, but he’d never really seen it for himself. Now, he was starting to understand what she had meant. The seeds of pity sprouted.
“Come with me,” he said softly.
Henry did. Bastian took the boy into the Cradle Tower, which was off to their right, and passing by the guards that were on the ground level, he took him to the upper floor where there was a big room with a window that overlooked the river. The breeze was steady now, blowing through the young king’s reddish-brown curls, and the boy was riveted to the river before him and the city beyond. Bastian leaned on the windowsill next to him, watching the awe in the boy’s expression, the naked emotions of a young man with the weight of a country on his slender shoulders. A weight that had been thrust upon him too soon.
“What do you see?” Bastian asked quietly.
Henry thought on that question as he studied the land, the water, and the sky beyond the window. “God’s greatest creation,” he finally said, looking at Bastian. “He gave it to me.”
Bastian smiled faintly. “He did,” he replied, eyeing the child as his attention returned to the river. “As He gave it to your father also. I knew your father very well. Did you know that?”
