The White Countess - The White Queen

Westminster Palace, London, England, Spring 1454

The winter passes in a blur. The queen is furious that I was allowed near Yorkist but stops short of berating Somerset. Instead she sequesters me in her portion of the household and holds me all but hostage.

"It's for your own good," she tells me when I protest, "I can't allow York to fill your ears with poison."

I roll my eyes but say nothing.

"I am going to see him!" The queen announces one morning.

I look up from my Greek, my tutor John Littleton gave me a confused look before I say, "Master Littleton that will be all for today."

He nods and leaves the room as I look up at Queen Margaret and say, "Please tell me that you do not mean Beaufort."

""Your Grace," Jacquetta says, "people will talk. They are already saying things about you that don't bear to repeating."

"I know what they are saying," she retorts boldly, "They are saying that he is my lover and that the prince is his son, and this is why my husband the king has not acknowledged him."

"Reason enough not to see him!" Jacquetta and I exclaim in unity.

"I have to see him."

"Your Grace-" we start.

"Jacquetta, Eliza, I have to."

"Then who will stay here and dispel the rumors?" Jacquetta asks.

"Yes, and someone must watch the prince, least the Yorks come to take him away from me while I am out," Margaret mumbles.

That's when both of them looked at me.

"Great. Just great."

I decided I'm not going to stay inside with Prince Edward. I've been cooped up too long and now that Margaret is finally gone I'm able to stretch a little. I ordered the guards to open the gates as soon as she and Jacquetta have left the palace and I take the baby prince out to the garden.

Margaret Beaufort follows cautiously behind me and asks, "Are you sure Her Grace would be alright with us taking Prince Edward out? She is always afraid that he might catch chill."

I roll my eyes, "Ridiculous!" I declare as we step outside and the March air, which has started to become warmer than usual, hits our faces. "When I was a babe my parents took me out into the fresh air all the time. I traveled all the way to France when I was younger than Prince Edward! Her Grace does no service to her son keeping him sequestered in her apartments. Good Lord, I wonder if the child has ever touched grass!"

Margaret nods as we enter the gardens and the prince squirms in my arms. I can already tell that he is his mother son, with her hair and most likely her will. His eyes wander around curiously at the gardens and I can tell that the time that he has spent cloistered in Queen Margaret's rooms have done him no good.

I order one of the servants to lay a sheet down in the middle of the garden so that the wet grass does not stay in our clothes and I sit down with the baby prince. Soon I am playing with him as a godmother ought to play with her godson and showing him different flowers and watching his little face light up and joy as he touches them. Once or twice I have to keep him from eating them but it is fun to see the little boy joyous instead of constantly fussy.

"Lady Margaret, I believe that your betrothed would enjoy this weather, and we could both use some company. Would you mind going and locating Bedford for us?"

Margaret's face flushes red and I know immediately that her mind is drifting off to Jasper tutor. Though he is a little less than nine years older than her he and Margaret had gotten on remarkably well since the trouble. In fact, there were times that I believed all of my ladies and myself included envied her. Jasper would go out of his way to say things to her that would make her blush bright red or to give her a little gifts on Saint days or holidays or birthdays. Lita and Lena would swoon over it while Nora and Claire rolled their eyes. The other girls and I on the other hand found it all quite amusing.