Read Online A Rose for Lancaster (The Tudor Rose Novella series) by Christine Elaine Black - Free Book Online

wenches.”
    He spoke true. I could not fault Murdo on that point. “That does not explain a stranger’s interest in my education.”
    Murdo shrugged. “It is not for me to speculate. Nan and I looked after you well and the task is complete, now you are a man and married to the York woman.”
    “Why then do you stay?” All my life I trusted in Murdo and held no quarrel with him now. He smiled fondly.
    “I have not yet been told to leave. And Nan thinks of you as a son.”
    “And you?”
    “We share a bond, even if ‘tis not blood.”
    “This noble lord…his name?”
    Murdo hesitated. “Viscount Welles.”
    “Welles? For the sake of God, why is he interested in me?”
    “I am not privy to his reasons, Sir Giles. I merely do his bidding, but the task has been enjoyable over the years.”
    “Mayhap, my father and he were friends,” I speculated.
    “Perhaps.” Murdo said little more on the subject while I dwelled on the strange circumstances of my upbringing. As one of the Somerset bastards I’d led a privileged life but somehow I was different than the others. The exact nature of that difference remained unknown but the treatment I regarded as my due changed in light of this revelation. The exact details of my birth and infant years were a mystery. Why was the king’s uncle interested in my person? And more importantly, who truly was Sir Giles Beaufort, Baron of Somerset?
    ****
    After a few months of spying in Ireland we returned to court with grim words. Pole claimed to the Irish nobles to have a nephew of King Edward in his care, with the intention of claiming the English throne on the boy’s behalf. Five men and one woman listened to my report.
    Henry sat stone-faced considering his options, as his mother, the countess of Richmond and Derby, fumed.
    “The Yorkist faction insist the boy with Pole is the true heir,” I ventured.
    “It’s a lie. The boy is in the tower under guard, living comfortably. They serve Pole and wish to elevate the house of York,” she grumbled.
    I flinched. Blanche remained in the tower and I itched to free my wife. The king’s mother eyed me without sympathy.
    “The Irish do me no favors,” Henry coldly stated. “Their eagerness to assist Pole shows they use any foolish reason to go against me.”
    “They intend to crown the boy and bring him to England.” I risked my life voicing such treason but Welles had politely warned me to hold back no information, no matter how damning.
    “We can easily disprove the claim. I’ll have the real boy paraded in the street to quell the rumors.” The countess shrugged off the matter.
    Henry nodded but looked to me. “When do they come?”
    “Sire, we have a few months at most.”
    His eyes narrowed but he remained impassive. “I welcome the challenge to sweep away the doubts. Pole has signed his death warrant.”
    I envisioned the king’s mother swinging an axe, relieving John Pole’s head from his body.
    “Beaufort,” the king shifted in his seat. “Join with Oxford and his men. From now until we crush Pole the men must be ready to act on a moment’s notice.”
    Secretly I had hoped my part in this ended after my time in Ireland.
    The door opened and a young woman entered. A tiny, delicate woman dressed in an exquisite kirtle glided across the expanse of the room. The king got to his feet and smiled at her. For the first time I saw Henry in a different light as he took the woman’s hand and kissed it with tender devotion.
    “Elizabeth,” he murmured near to her ear. Every man in the room watched, on their knees, entranced by the queen’s presence. The pair whispered for a moment, the closeness of their bodies reminding me of my wife and the few happy moments shared at Somerset Castle. I recognized a man and a woman in love, interested in each other’s needs. The countess of Richmond coughed, a gentle reminder to the couple not to break the propriety expected of royalty.
    The queen scanned the room, her regard rested