The Other Elizabeth

Chapter XXXIII: March 1461

Chapter XXXII: March 1461 

Newcelles and Barkway, Hertfordshire, England

After we rode away from the city gates, I found myself conveniently placed to visit my Hertfordshire manors, having no desire to return with Jacquetta to serve with the Queen, the Duchess of Buckingham having also returned homeward. Although I would have been with Anthony, and it might have seemed most adventurous, I had no desire to flee with the Lancastrians away from London, with their savage Scottish mercenaries, and put myself through hardship. I could not contend being in Her Grace's presence also- although my Mother would have wished me to be of service to her, I would rather not try to make a friendship with that double-dealing she-wolf. I still fume from the way she abused us and lied to us.

I shall quietly celebrate my twenty-fifth birthday alone in a few days' time, on Lady Day, the official start of a new year. Mayhap the dispute over who should sit on the throne will then be resolved. I shall move from Newcelles to Barkway on the morrow. 'Tis nice to set affairs in order here and establish my position as lady of the manor, take on responsibility for my property. However, I feel sad that as I move into another year of my life, that I have no child still to pass these properties to, and the people who brought me into this bloodthirsty realm are now gone. In the manor that they spent so much time in, I expect to see my Father, but his image to me is shadowed in horror. I search for my Mother sometimes, expecting to see her face, to hear her voice, but realise that she isn't here, that she never will be again, and that there is just the emptiness that she left me.

I speculate over Katherine and Bessie. The thought of Bessie's secret that she bore, while she served me all those years. Did she resent me all this time, for being the daughter of a man, who in necessity, despoiled her future? In truth, I think the harshest truth I must deal with is the thought that she did not love me or care for me, when I thought she did, and once again in life friend has turned to foe. Everyone lies. They all lie... And where is she presently? Should I try to contact Katherine- my half-sister? Mayhap she despises me also? My family seems so far, for 'tis like Anthony and I are not truly wed, for I have not spent much time with him. What if we grow apart from each other in our absence? Was it a mistake not to go with him and the Lancastrian army, show myself as a loving wife?

I endeavour to keep in contact with the outside world. I write to Eleanor, and poor, poor sickly Elizabel, and to Katty, who informs me that her husband John Howard has mustered forces for the Yorkist army, and shall meet with them when they journey from London northward, for it appears that there shall be a decisive battle- Edward's army against the King and Queen's, in the coming weeks. Edward, the boy I knew, the young man whom proposed to me- what would my life have been like- I contritely wonder if becoming Elizabeth Wydeville was in my best interests- has been proclaimed as King Edward of York in the streets of London. From what information I receive here in my country manors, I believe that there has been some sort of procession and ceremony to declare this. He cannot pretend that he seeks only a just Council as his father did. This war is not about court favourites any more- was it ever?- it is about the rightful owner to the crown, the rightful lineage. Edward, Edward of course, for the present King's grandfather was a murdering usurper. I want Edward to win, to avenge the poor Duke, but I want Anthony to be safe too. Can I win both ways?

I have left Newcelles, having spruced the manor up and ordered new tapestries bearing mine and Anthony's ensigna entwined together alongside my Mother and Father's beside that, to put in the solar and Great Hall. A new start, marking my own small reign, in harmony with their memory. Barkway is but a short distance down the road, say a mile or so, and I do begin to wish Bessie was here to accompany me, and we could go back to matters how they were beforehand, confiding, jesting... but was it all falsehood? Did our friendship mean naught to her? I would indeed like to find myself a new companion, but how could I trust another? I wish even that Anne was here, for she is the loveliest sister-in-law, or my little Beth Tylney, lost to me now. Oh, how I wish I had children to cuddle and cosset when Anthony is not present!