Free Queen of Trial and Sorrow by Susan Appleyard Page B

again.  No one would ever be able to snatch all this away from me.  I was now in a position to help my family and advance my sons and the thought gave me great pleasure.  
    Outside, sumptermen were unloading my belongings from wagons and heaving them in.  My ladies were bending over my trunks; out came gowns, shoes, cloaks, hose, headdresses, nightwear, petticoats, girdles, all the articles of personal grooming no lady could do without, as well as books, a coffer of jewels and another of letters, which were scattered over every available surface.  In Reading I’d had two new gowns quickly made.  The king had said I should order at least a dozen, and more later, for was I not a symbol of England’s wealth and greatness?  But before so indulging myself I wanted to speak to the ladies of the court to find the best dressmaker and discover the latest styles.  My sister Mary said I should set the style; whatever I wore would be slavishly imitated.  Lady Vaughan told us that in the reign of Charles VII, late king of France, his mistress introduced a new fashion at court that bared one breast, and there had been no shortage of imitators!  Henry would have had an apoplexy, but my husband would have liked it too well! 
    I was regarding a tapestry featuring a shepherdess when my own Sun of York strolled in with his gentlemen at his heels. Reading my look, he said:  “If you don’t like it I can have it taken down.”
    “I don’t like it.”
    “Would you prefer the martyrdom of St. Sebastian or the Turks at the siege of Constantinople?”
    “Do you have something with no blood in it?”
    “Scenes of bucolic tranquility.  Like this one.   Do you like your chambers?”
    “They are very fine.”
    “But not good enough for you.  I’m going to build you a great chamber, somewhere for you to entertain important guests.  I’ve already drawn up plans.  I’ll show them to you later.  If they have your approval we’ll begin the work next year.”
    He was so good to me.  I was deeply touched that he planned such a project when he was so severely impoverished.
     
    ……….
     
    “I think you should consider Sir John Scott as your master of the horse,” Edward said, poring over my lists.  “I owe him an office, and what he doesn’t know about horses isn’t worth knowing.  He keeps a superb stud down in Kent.”
    Usually I accepted his suggestions without argument, but this time I protested.  “Oh, but I wanted that post for my brother John.”
    “Your brother is how old?”
    “Fifteen, the same age as your brother – the lieutenant of Ireland.”
    “Touche, my love.  You’re too clever for me.”
    “But you do understand that I must do all I can to help my poor brother?  He hasn’t two silver pennies to rub together and you may imagine how expensive living at court can be for someone like him.  As the brother-in-law of the king, it is essential that he maintain a certain state.  Don’t you agree?”
    It was a winning point.  Edward believed that everyone and everything about the king either enhanced or detracted from the royal dignity.  It wouldn’t do at all for his brother-in-law to be seen wearing darned hose, or a doublet that had been cut down to size, so he had to concede my wisdom in giving my brother some gainful employment along with a salary of forty pounds a year.
    The king and queen maintained separate households.  Only a little smaller than Edward’s, mine when it was finally assembled numbered almost two hundred persons.  The business kept me happily occupied during my first months at Westminster. I took great pleasure in gathering my household, with the help of my mother who waited on me every day, armed to the teeth with sensible advice.  One of my first appointees was my chamberlain, Lord Berners, the younger brother of the Archbishop of Canterbury and the Earl of Essex.  My sister Anne and Elizabeth Scales, Anthony’s wife, became my chief ladies-in-waiting.  I