Arthur

Chapter 21

Elizabeth of York; London, England. January 1502.

“I’m afraid we have a problem, Cecily.” I said, twisting my hands, as I entered my sister’s bedchamber. She looked at me surprised.

“What is it, Bess?”

“I need funds to make my plan succeed. I can’t use it from my pocket, the King and his mother control my every penny, and they would know.”

Cecily put down her needle work, thoughtful. “You are right. This would be rather compromising.”

“What am I to do, then?”

“Well, we shall take money from me.” She replied.

“What? No, Sissy, I cannot do such a thing.”

“Oh, why not?”

“You receive the pension of a widow. I know it is hard to keep the properties and pay for your servants.”

“Oh, Bess, do you really think I am a fool to live only with the pension of a widow?” She giggled. “No, I have found a way to keep my life style.”

“What?”

“My late husband has left me some good lands, handled by talented landlords. If I assure them they can keep their space and I provide them with what they need for plantation and cultivation, then I have a great profit from the harvest. Believe me or not, it has paid for my jewels and dresses as well as my servants.”

“Oh, Sissy! Does Henry know? Does his mother know?”

“I’m sure they do. Nothing passes by their eyes. But as I also give their share, they don’t question me or stop me from it.”

I couldn’t believe the geniality of my sister. Cecily smiled proudly at me, amused by my surprise.

“I will lend you some money, and you can say it is for charitable work.” She decided. No one tracks it, and it will be able to reach its destination safely.”

“I don’t know how to thank you enough, sister…” I said.

“Just succeed.” The smiled disappeared from her face. “God knows how much we need you to succeed. If you do, then not only we would get our answers for long lost questions, but we would also change the fate of England. And I swear, we were not born to be ruled by a Lancastrian-born.”

My cousin, Lady Margaret Pole, left the next day to Ludlow where she would present herself and the Lady of the castle and assist the Princess, be her mentor and, secretly, work in my favour. We spoke briefly about Catalina; Margaret was a kind-hearted woman, who had seen the best and the worst from England, learnt from it all and survived, like I had. She was no fool, that cousin of mine.

“I cannot see Catalina disagreeing with me.” I told her. “She is a very wise girl, very mature and instructed. And above all, she is just.”

“And the combination of those is hard to find those days.” She observed. “If the Princess is as you paint her, then I believe I will like her very much.”

“I am sure you will. She must be lonely in the castle. Arthur has his daytime scheduled and I doubt they have much contact at all.” I said, bitterly; I had been against Lady Margaret Beaufort’s schedule for my son and his wife, but my opinion was not even taken in consideration, as ever.

“Oh, I know. Surrounded by a dozen of foolish girls who only care about gossips and futilities.” She laughed, shaking her head. “Do not worry, cousin. I will write you periodically about the Prince and the Princess.”

“Thank you, Margaret.” I smiled, relieved. I knew my boy and his wife would be well handled once Margaret arrived in Ludlow.

“Any message you want me to take?”

I was about to say I wanted her to send my love to Arthur and Catalina, but for some reason, I heard, from far away, a sweet, sad melody, like from the depths of a river.

“Yes,” I said, feeling a chill down my spine. “Tell Arthur to be careful.”