his father was a child, with war and pestilence taking a terrible toll. Outside the city, whole villages had been left to grass and weeds, with their inhabitants all fled or boarded into their houses to die and be forgotten. Yet London survived. It was said that the people there were hardened to it, so they could breathe and eat almost anything and live.
Margaret shuddered delicately at the thought. On that spring day at the Tower, she could see pale blue skies and white clouds hanging like a painting above her head. Birds flew and the air seemed sweet enough up where she walked the crown of the walls, speaking to blushing soldiers as they found themselves under the scrutiny of a fifteen-year-old queen.
She stared south, imagining Saumur Castle across the sea. Her mother’s letter had made their financial situation clear, but that was one thing Margaret had been able to put right. With just a word from her, Henry had agreed to send twelve hundred pounds in silver coins, enough to run the estate for two years or more. Margaret frowned to herself at the thought. Her husband was most amenable. He agreed to anything she wanted, but there was something wrong; she could sense that much. Yolande had returned to her husband’s estate and she dared not confide in anyone else. Margaret considered writing a letter, but she suspected they would be read, at least for the first few years. She wondered if she could find a way to ask questions about men that would not be understood by Derry Brewer. She shook her head as she stood there, doubting her ability to get anything past that infuriating man.
The subject of her thoughts broke in on them at that moment, clambering up to the highest point of the walls and smiling as he saw her.
‘Your Royal Highness!’ he cried. ‘I heard you were up here. I tell you my heart’s in my mouth at the thought of you falling to your death. I think it would mean war within the year, all from a loose stone or a single slip. I’d be happier if you’d accompany me back to the ground. I think the guards would be as well.’
He came up to her and took her arm gently, trying to steer her back to the closest set of steps heading down. Margaret felt a spike of irritation and refused to move.
‘My lady?’ Derry asked, looking wounded.
‘I won’t fall, Master Brewer. And I’m not a child to be shepherded to safety.’
‘I don’t think the king would be happy at the thought of his new wife on these walls, my lady.’
‘Really? I think he would be perfectly happy. I think he would say “If Margaret wishes it, Derry, I am content,” don’t you think?’
For a moment, they both glared at each other, then Derry dropped his hand from her arm with a shrug.
‘As you say, then. We are all in God’s hands, my lady. I did see your husband this morning, to discuss matters of state that cannot be ignored. I hesitate to suggest he misunderstood something you said to him, but he told me to seek you out. Is there something you would like to say to me?’
Margaret looked at the man, wishing William were there and wondering how far she could trust Derry Brewer.
‘I am pleased he remembered, Master Brewer. It gives me hope.’
‘I have documents that he must seal, my lady, today if possible. I cannot answer for the consequences if there is another delay.’
Margaret controlled her anger with some difficulty.
‘Master Brewer, I want you to listen. Do you understand? I want you to stop talking and just hear me.’
Derry’s eyes widened in surprise.
‘Of course, my lady. I understand. I just …’
She held up a hand and he fell silent.
‘I have sat with my husband as he met noble lords and men from his council, this Parliament of yours. I have watched them present their petitions and discuss his finances in great detail. I have seen you come and go, Master Brewer, with your armfuls of documents. I have witnessed you guiding Henry’s hand to place the wax and the royal seal.’
‘I don’t understand, my lady. I was there when we arranged to send a fortune to your mother. Is that the source of your concern? The king and I …’ Once more Derry halted the torrent of words as she raised her hand.
‘Yes, Master Brewer. I too have called on the king’s purse. You do not need to bring it up. He is my husband, after all.’
‘And he is my king,’ Derry replied, his voice hardening subtly. ‘I have dealt with him and aided him for as long as you have lived.’
Margaret felt her nerve begin to fail under the cold stare. Her breath seemed to catch in her throat and her heart pounded. Yet it was too important to let go.
‘Henry is a good man,’ she said. ‘He has no suspicions, no evil in him. Will you deny it? He does not read the petitions, or the laws he must sign, or if he does, he only glances at them. He
The words had been said and for the first time Derry looked embarrassed, breaking her gaze and staring across the walls and moat to the Thames meandering past. Beyond the water gate under St Thomas’s Tower, there were boats out there, dredging the bottom with long hooked poles. Derry knew that another pregnant girl had drowned herself off London Bridge the night before. A crowd had seen her holding a swollen belly as she climbed over the edge. They’d cheered her on, of course, until she dropped and was swallowed by the dark waters. The boatmen were looking out for her corpse, so they could sell it to the Guild of Surgeons. Those men paid particularly well for the pregnant ones.
‘Your Highness, there is some truth in what you’ve said. The king is a trusting man, which is all the more reason to have good men around him! Believe me when I say I am a careful judge of those who are allowed into his presence.’
‘A guardian, then? Is that how you see yourself, Master Brewer?’ Margaret found her nervousness disappearing and her voice strengthened. ‘If that is the case,
Derry closed his eyes for a moment, letting the breeze dry the sweat that had broken out on his forehead.
‘I didn’t hear much Latin round my way, my lady, not when I was a boy. Your Highness, you are just fifteen years old, whereas I have kept the kingdom safe for more than a decade. Do you not think I have proved my honour by now?’
‘Perhaps,’ Margaret said, refusing to give way. ‘Though it would be a rare man who took
‘I am that man, my lady, on my honour I am. I have not sought titles or wealth. I have given all my strength to him, for his glory and the glory of his father.’
The words seemed to have been dragged out of Derry as he stood with his hands splayed, resting on the stone wall. Margaret felt suddenly ashamed, though there was still a whisper of suspicion that Derry Brewer was not above manipulating her as easily as he did the king. She gathered her resolve.
‘If what you say is true, you will not object to my reading the documents that come before Henry, will you, Master Brewer? If you have the honour you claim, there can be no harm in that. I asked Henry for his permission and he granted it to me.’
‘Yes. Yes, of course he did,’ Derry said sourly. ‘You’ll read it all? You’ll submit the fate of a kingdom to the judgement of a fifteen-year-old girl with no training in the law and no experience of ruling more than a single castle, if even that? Do you understand what you are asking and the certain consequences of it?’
‘I did not say I was asking, Master Brewer!’ Margaret snapped. ‘I told you what the king of England said. Now you may disobey his command or not, depending on whether you wish to continue in your role — or not! Either way, yes, I will read it all. I will see every document,
Derry turned to her and she saw fury in his eyes. He had been reeling ever since King Henry had refused his request that morning. Refused! He had asked the king to look over a sheaf of documents and the man had shaken his head in what seemed like genuine regret, directing him to ask his wife. Derry could still hardly believe it. It
