Margaret of Anjou Read Online Free

manors, refusing my claim to them. It seems he thinks he can give
my
estates in dowry to the Nevilles, that they are now so strong I will be forced to drop my suits and cases against him. I am sending you to show them justice. To show them the authority Cromwell flouts as he seeks a greater shadow to hide beneath! Listen to me now. Take my seven hundred and kill them all, Thomas. Be sure Cromwell’s niece is among the dead, that I may invoke her name when next I meet her weeping uncle in the king’s court. Do you understand?”
    “Of course I understand!” Thomas said, his voice hardening. He felt his hands tremble as he glared at his father, but he would not suffer the old man’s scorn by refusing. He set his jaw, the decision made.
    A knock sounded on the door at Thomas’s back, making both men start like guilty conspirators. Thomas stood away to let it swing open, blanching at the sight of his mother standing there.
    His father drew himself up, his chest puffing out.
    “Go now, Thomas. Bring honor to your family and your name.”
    “
Stay
, Thomas,” his mother said quickly, her expression cold.
    Thomas hesitated, then dipped his head, slipping past her and striding away. Alone, Countess Eleanor Percy turned sharply to her husband.
    “I see your guards and soldiers arming themselves, covering Percy colors. Now my son rushes from me like a whipped cur. Will you have me ask, then? What foul plan have you been whispering into his ears this time, Henry? What have you done?”
    Earl Percy took a deep breath, his triumph showing clearly.
    “Were you not listening at the door like a maid, then? I am surprised,” he said. “What I have
done
is no business of yours.” As he spoke, he moved to go past her into the corridor outside. Eleanor stepped into his path to stop him, raising her hand against his chest. In response, the earl gripped it cruelly, crushing her fingers so that she cried out. He twisted further, controlling her with a hand on her elbow.
    “Please, Henry. My arm . . .” she said, gasping.
    He twisted harder at that, making her shriek. In the corridor, he caught a glimpse of a servant hurrying closer and kicked savagely at the door so that it slammed shut. As his wife whimpered, the old man bent her forward, almost doubled over, with his grip tight on her hand and arm.
    “I have done no more than your Nevilles would do to me, if I were ever at their mercy,” he said into her ear. “Did you think I would allow your brother to rise above the Percy name? Chancellor to the Duke of York now, he threatens everything I am, everything I must protect. Do you understand? I took you on to give me sons, a fertile Neville bride. Well, you have done that. Now do not dare ask me the business of my house.”
    “You are
hurting
me,” she said, her face crumpling in anger and pain. “You see enemies where there are none. And if you seek my brother, he will see you dead, Henry. Richard will kill you.”
    With a grunt of outrage, her husband heaved her across the room, sending her sprawling across the bed. He was on her before she could rise to her feet, tearing her dress and bawling at her in red-faced rage as he wrenched at the cloth and bared her skin. She sobbed and struggled, but he was infernally strong in his anger, ignoring her nails as she left red lines on his face and arms. He held her down with one hand, exposing the long pale line of her back as he drew his belt from his trousers and doubled it over into a short whip.
    “You will not speak to
me
in such a
way
, in my own
house
.” He landed blow after blow with the snapping sounds as loud as her desperate cries. No one came, though he went on and on until she was still, no longer struggling. Long red welts seeped blood to stain the fine cloth as he gasped and panted, fat beads of sweat dropping from his nose and brow onto her skin. With grim satisfaction, the earl replaced his belt and left his wife to sob into the coverlet.
    —
    S ERVANTS OPENED