Candace Robb: King's Bishop

So Ned spent his days practising with his daggers, throwing them at a straw target until his wrists and eyes ached. Or staring out of his small, unglazed window at St George’s Chapel and especially the yard before it, where men bustled about their tasks with the confidence that God was pleased with their industry. As Ned gazed out on the life in the lower ward he thought back over the past few weeks, examining his behaviour towards Mary and Daniel. Gradually he came to see that his misery was his own fault. It was true that time and again he had discovered Daniel sitting with Mary when he’d gone to call, but he had seen no embraces, no fond touching, no meaningful looks. It was not until after he had lost his temper several times that Mary and Daniel had seemed at all uncomfortable about his finding them together.

Ned had to see Mary before he left, to beg her forgiveness, to ask whether there was any hope for him. Twice he sneaked to her quarters, twice she refused to see him. How could she be so cruel? Was not his beloved to stand beside him when all deserted him?

And then, miracle of miracles, Mary appeared at Ned’s door the afternoon before he was to leave.

‘Mary! Sweet Heaven, I am glad to see you.’ Ned dropped down to his knees, wrapped his arms round her legs before she had time to back away. ‘Mary, my love, forgive me for my foolish jealousy. It was only that I could not imagine a man looking on you and not wanting you as I do. I should have listened to you. I vow I shall be your obedient servant all the rest of my days.’

Mary smoothed his hair. She had the gentlest touch. ‘Peace, my love. Peace,’ she whispered.

My love ! Ned rose and, cupping her lovely face in his hands, looked deep into Mary’s eyes. ‘You love me?’

‘You know that I do.’

‘You turned me away, Mary. Twice! I could never tum you away.’

Her sweet eyes swam with tears. ‘Oh, Ned, I have been so miserable!’ She stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

Blessed Mary, Mother of God, thank you for hearing my prayers . Ned covered Mary’s face with kisses. Then, holding her close to him, he edged slowly backwards, drawing her into his room.

Breathlessly, she whispered, ‘I must not stay long. Mistress Alice will miss me.’

‘Just a little while, my love,’ Ned begged as he closed the door with his foot. He let her go, brought the lamp closer to see her.

Mary pushed back the hood of her cloak, shook out her hair. The dark cloud fell softly round her face, tumbled about her white shoulders, which were partially bared by her low-cut gown — his favourite silk. It whispered at her slightest move and gave off her exquisite scent. ‘Say but that you shall remain at Windsor and all is forgiven,’ she whispered, moving towards him.

Bless her innocent heart that beat so softly under those white, white breasts. Ned had to clear his throat before he could speak. ‘Sweet Mary, would that I might say yes. Ask me anything else. But I cannot stay; I am ordered north on the King’s business. I must go.’ He reached for her hands.

Mary hid them behind her back. Her face was flushed. ‘Is that truly the only reason you go?’

‘What other reason could there be?’ Ned could think of none.

‘That you fear what Daniel’s friends might do to you.’

Ned’s heart sank. Still she gnawed on that bone between them. ‘You know that is not so, Mary. I am no saint, but neither am I a coward. I do not run from my troubles. In better times you worried that I was incautious.’

Mary bit her lip, which Ned read as a hopeful sign that she was listening. ‘I think the King is sending you away to protect you,’ she said, ‘because Mistress Alice told His Grace that you could not have followed Daniel from the hall that night.’

‘That may be His Grace’s reason, but not mine.’

‘Then stay.’ Mary said it with a thrust of her chin, challenging him. ‘Do not let the King make you act the coward.’

Would that Ned might accept the challenge. He gently pressed Mary’s shoulders. ‘Please, Mary, let us not argue. I must obey the King; I am in his service.’

Mary retreated from him. ‘You are in the service of the Duke of Lancaster.’

Ned nodded. ‘And the Duke left me here at court to learn from and serve the King, his father. Now the King has need of me. The Duke would expect me to obey.’

Mary turned away from Ned, stood with one hand to her chin.

‘Mary?’ Ned whispered.

She tossed her hair, took a deep breath, spun round prettily on her slipper, her silk rustling. ‘Perhaps I can change your orders.’

Ned grinned. ‘You, Mary? And how would you do that?’

She stood quite straight, her hands clasped behind her. ‘Mistress Alice might intercede for us. I shall tell her I cannot bear to be separated from you.’

In her innocence she was but a child. ‘You have forgotten what your mistress thinks of me. She would never succumb to such a plot. She does not support our union. In truth, it may be Mistress Alice who suggested me for this mission. And once I am away up north she will distract you with a more suitable man. A nice, elderly knight who can provide for you.’

Tears swam in Mary’s pretty eyes, her lower lip trembled. ‘I do not want an elderly knight. I would hate that.’

‘People would consider such a man more suitable for you, Mary. Far better than a young spy with neither land nor title.’

Mary’s tears flowed freely now. She wiped them away angrily. ‘You must not go, Ned!’

‘I must, Mary. And it will not be the last time you must accept my absence. If we wed, you must reconcile yourself to a life of separations. As Lancaster’s man I shall often be called away. It is the nature of my work.’

Mary crossed her arms, stomped a pretty foot, hung her head.

Ned stood there stupidly, hands at his sides, wondering how to proceed. Suddenly, in the gathering quiet, he saw Mary shiver, heard a trembling intake of breath. In one stride he had her in his arms.

‘Mary, my dearest love,’ he whispered, ‘I shall return. Never doubt it. With you waiting for me, I could not do otherwise. And when I return we shall be wed.’

She looked up into his eyes. ‘But how long, Ned? How long must you be away?’

He squeezed her hard. ‘Oh, my sweetness, my love.’

Mary clung to Ned. He picked her up and carried her to the bed, fumbled with the clasp of her cloak, drew it off her, tilted her head back. Her tears had stopped. Her mouth parted. He kissed her hungrily. Soon he held her soft, naked body in his arms.

‘I am afraid,’ Mary whispered, pressing herself against him. ‘Oh, Ned, I am so afraid.’

‘You have nothing to fear, my love. I would never hurt you.’

*

Ned woke to the sound of someone quietly weeping. Disoriented, he glanced round, discovered Mary lying beside him with her hands over her eyes. ‘Mary, my love. I am not yet gone. Do not weep while we are so happy.’ He gathered her into his arms. ‘Do you not know how much I love you? Do you doubt that I shall return to you?’

She kissed his chin. ‘I do not doubt you, Ned.’

‘Then what is it?’

She did not answer at once. ‘I shall be so alone without you.’

‘And I without you, my love. But soon we shall be together always.’

‘But while you are gone, Ned. What about while you are gone? Am I strong enough to stand up to Mistress Alice and her ambitions for me?’

‘You have stood up to her so far, my love. I have not played your protector in this. She thinks it beneath her to speak to me.’

Mary sat up with a sigh. ‘I weary of butting heads with Mistress Alice.’

Ned pushed himself up on one elbow, touched a finger to Mary’s cheek, catching a tear on the tip of his finger. ‘You are a strong woman, Mary.’