The Other Elizabeth

Chapter III: Autumn 1446

Chapter III: Autumn 1446

Fotheringay, Northamptonshire, England 

I am in Fotheringay this cool, crisp, autumn day, to bear witness to the marriage of Anne, daughter of Richard, Duke of York, and Henry, son of Henry, Duke of Exeter. My Lord Richard is brother to my generous benefactress, my Lady Isabel, the Viscountess. I am associating with folk with tantalizing great titles!

"I heard Duke Henry got four thousand, five hundred marks for the little strumpet!" Ripples of giggles follow.

"Strumpet?" laughs another maid, nudging her friend, "Her haughty highness the Duchess Cecily would never raise a strumpet!" They cackle even more. I weave past them, for I am scurrying through the maze that is Fotheringay Castle, desperately, in vain, trying to find a face I know agog all the hustle and bustle. We arrived when the cloak of darkness was upon us yester eventide, so I have yet to acquaint my inner compass with this castle. If only my Lady was here to instruct me what to do, but she is too near her time to travel, and is rather disappointed not to witness this most 'advantageous' marriage. Indeed, I feel rather slighted; here I am, the daughter of now seemingly a mere Baron, among all these Dukes and Duchesses and persons who I have no clue as to who they are.

"Elizabeth!" I falter, turning around, wondering if it is me who is sought after. If only I had a less common name, like my mother Ismania, although fool she is, she is known widely as Emma.

"Henry! William!" I cry, gathering up the crimson skirts of my cotehardie and rushing gracelessly towards the two youths. Saints be praised that Humphrey is not with them; it is constraining enough to sit in his foul presence at the table every breakfast, lunch and dinner. He is a wicked boy, and I have begun to hate him for his constant malicious taunts. I still cannot believe what Humphrey said to me- although it has made me wonder; would my Father really commit such a crime as that? He has killed people before, when he was a soldier in France.

"Elizabeth," William says, as I reach them short of breath, "We have been seeking you out for ages." William, my Lady's heir, at three and ten, is rather handsome, and this day his long lean legs are encased in tight blue hose, and his top half a gold and blue pourpoint which enhances his muscular upper body, holding himself with confidence. Beside him, Henry, a year or so his junior, is nimbler, slighter, fairer, with his golden curls, his at times effeminate face has grooved into it marks of anxiety, as well as wisdom, and Dr. Watt wishes I was as devoted to my studies as him.

"That one will enter the church, or become a man of great wisdom and learning, mark my words!" He always says.

"I am so very sorry for delaying you, good men," I say. William smacks me lightly on the rump, and I scream.

"Hush, you little liar, you are not sorry!" he says, tickling me under the chin.

"I am, I am!" I squeal, as he tickles me all over.

"Both of you, cease your folly. Walls have ears, and soon people will be talking that you are being too familiar," Henry hushes us. I blush; I think of William with nothing but brotherly affection.

"Then it is I who will be the strumpet," I giggle aloud. They look at me blankly.

"Oh, some gossip I heard earlier."

"Come, we must make haste- we will be leaving soon," Henry says, and we hurry down the corridor, William and I kicking the rushes like autumn leaves, Henry shaking his head at us.

"So, who was the strumpet before?" William asks curiously.

"Your cousin, Anne," I reply, eyes glinting.