First of the Tudors. Joanna Hickson

is a great-grandchild of King Edward the Third and carries a line of succession to the throne. She could pass her claim to any son she may have, so much care must be taken in the matter of her marriage.’

      ‘The Beaufort claim is very tenuous though, is it not, my liege? Your royal grandfather confirmed the legitimacy of his Beaufort half siblings but an Act of Parliament barred them from the succession did it not? Surely the York claim is stronger? But of course none of this will be of any consequence when you and the queen have a son.’

      Henry’s brows knitted at the mention of the York claim and his frown deepened further when I referred to the possibility of a royal heir. ‘I am glad your tutors taught you the law and history of England so well, Jasper, but Margaret Beaufort is young yet. Let us leave consideration of her marriage until the pope makes his ruling.’

      This was not exactly what I wanted to hear but at least there would be no immediate betrothal. I would be able to enjoy dancing with Margaret, knowing that if Edmund were to press the king on an imminent marriage he would get nowhere.

      As I followed the steps of a stately gavotte, I found it hard to take my eyes off my partner’s slender form. Even in the rather severe grey gown they had dressed her in that day she still managed to remind me of a graceful falcon gliding between tall trees as she wound her way between the other dancers in the set. The more I saw of Margaret Beaufort the more she resembled the Honoured Lady of Arthurian chivalry and the more I saw her as a potential wife, one day. There seemed to emanate from her a noble grace, which entirely outshone the lush temptations offered by other ladies on the floor.

      * * *

      A few days later we had each received a written summons to attend the Royal Council. ‘I cannot contemplate sitting around a table with a bunch of greybeards discussing the king’s finances,’ Edmund grumbled. ‘I must look to my own affairs and that means inspecting the meagre estates as yet granted to me. I will leave tomorrow for Leicestershire, as planned.’

      ‘It is our first summons from the king, Edmund – an honour. He will expect us to attend.’ Despite my warning I understood his wish to visit his new estates. I, too, wanted to go to Wales but a series of disputes over lordships connected to the Pembroke earldom were hampering my possession of many of its manors. I had to wait for the Council to settle these.

      ‘You have business there anyway, Jas, so you can keep me up to date with what happens and make my excuses. There is no need for us both to go.’ Edmund flashed one of his disarming smiles, slapped me on the back and departed, leaving me irritated but resigned.

      As it turned out the retrieval of the Pembroke lands was achieved without difficulty and no comment was made about Edmund’s absence. He returned in time to take his seat with the Lords and hear the petition read in which the king publicly proclaimed us as his brothers, although since we were related through our mother and bore only French royal blood, we were barred from any succession to the English throne. Once passed, the same Act of Parliament also established that our earldoms were not just for life but could be inherited by our legitimate male heirs. I should have been a proud and happy man, had it not been for Edmund’s muttered remark after hearing the Act read.

      ‘Well, if a son of mine can inherit my earldom of Richmond, it surely follows that he can also inherit his mother’s titles and honours, including any line of succession she may have to the English throne.’

       PART TWO

       The Tudor Earls

       1453–1459

       6

       Jane

      Tŷ Cerrig, Gwynedd, North Wales

      SINCE OUR PATHS HAD last crossed, Jasper Tudor’s life had been transformed – and so had he. When I hurried nervously from the house to confront the troop of armed and mounted men approaching the farmstead up the track from the shore I failed to recognize him, at first. I should have been prepared since I knew from the songs the bards sang around the local farms and lordships that the cousins who had slept on the straw in our byre two summers ago had now been declared the king’s closest kin and created the foremost earls in the land. Nevertheless, when Jasper rode under the gate-arch, bareheaded but wearing gleaming armour, on a warhorse trapped in blue and silver and leading an entourage in what looked like royal livery, my jaw dropped.

      He did not wait for a man to run and hold his horse but flung his steel-clad leg over the pommel and jumped from the saddle with eager assurance. ‘Jane! It is Jane is it not? You have grown taller and even lovelier than when we last met.’ He bent over my hand before raising his head and pressing his lips briefly to mine. It was a common enough greeting between family members but I must have looked shaken because he stepped back at once with an apologetic expression. ‘Oh, have I offended you? I crave your pardon. I thought we parted friends. And we are cousins are we not?’

      I saw with an inner smile of relief that, earl or not, his cheeks had flushed. An inability to hide his blushes was one of the things I had liked about him, and the way he cocked his head enquiringly to one side instantly recalled the unpretentious young man I had known. I gave a little laugh and shrugged. ‘Distant cousins, yes – and no, you have not offended me. We heard you had become Earl of Pembroke but did not expect a visit this far from your earldom. Welcome back to Tŷ Cerrig, my lord.’ Remembering my manners I dropped a low curtsy.

      He urged me to rise, his colour deepening. ‘I am still not used to ceremony,’ he confessed. ‘I came to see my cousin Hywel on a matter of business but it is an added bonus to find that you are still here, Jane. I thought you might be married and away by now.’

      Not knowing how to respond to this remark I averted my eyes and cleared my throat. ‘My father and brothers are in the fields but I have sent word and they should be here directly.’ Seeing the dozen or so men still mounted behind him and awaiting orders I added, ‘Will your retinue take refreshment? We have bread and ale and water for the horses.’

      ‘Thank you yes, they will be glad of that, but fear not, they have no need of lodging. They will find it in the town.’ He signalled them to dismount. I noticed that most wore mail-armour under their livery and swords on their belts, while the remaining few were obviously servants, armed only with small blades. Their horses were damp with sweat and it looked like they had been moving fast, as if through potentially hostile territory.

      ‘They may be welcome trade at the Abermaw inns but there are always empty barns on the farm at this time of year,’ I said. ‘We would not turn them away.’

      A lad came forward to hold his master’s horse. ‘There are water troughs over yonder,’ Jasper told him, pointing towards the stable block. ‘And tell the captain to send a couple of men up to the house to collect refreshments.’ The youth touched his forehead in acknowledgement and led the horse away but Jasper called after him. ‘And bring my saddlebags to me.’

      ‘I will, my lord.’

      By now Bethan had emerged cautiously with Nesta. The little girl was clutching her mother’s skirts, scared by the sight of so many horses and men, but Bethan was smiling and nodding, delighted in her simple way to see Jasper again. ‘Give you good day Jasper,’ she said with a little bob.

      He