In The Godmother’s Secret, the journey of Prince Edward in April 1483 portrays the frightening conflict of a kingdom teetering on the edge of chaos. Following the sudden death of Edward IV, his twelve-year-old son and heir sets out from Ludlow Castle to London, escorted by his uncle and household governor, Anthony Woodville, Earl Rivers. But England is rife with factional tension. To secure the realm and ensure a peaceful transition within the York dynasty, Edward’s uncle, Richard, Duke of Gloucester—named Lord Protector in his brother’s will—intercepts the prince at Stony Stratford. From Richard’s perspective, his intervention reflects his duty to shield his nephew from overreaching courtiers. Others construe it as the first stage in his plan to seize the throne for himself.
I describe the scene from the perspective of Lady Elysabeth Scrope, the young King’s godmother, witnesses the transfer of power in my novel, The Godmother’s Secret:
Ned lifts his chin, sucks in a deep shuddering breath. I free the crucifix from my purse and fold it into his palms, pressing his hands around the precious relic.
“From your father, to my care.” I stroke the blond hair that tufts from his damp forehead in the way it has grown since he was four years old. “So you would know he is always with you, Ned. And that he entrusts me with your well-being.”
Ned kisses the jewelled cross, laces the pearl chain through his delicate fingers.
“My father sent this?” he asks, his delicate face tear-blotched in the lightening dawn.
Sweet boy. “Yes, to give to you, the last thought as he left this earth. I carried it at your baptism. You and the Duke of Gloucester are most beloved to him. And that is why he appointed his brother your Lord Protector of the Realm.”
Ned’s face creases into a frown. “I really don’t know my Uncle Richard.”
“You will come to appreciate his wisdom and his fairness.” This is what Gloucester wants me to remind his nephew. “He is beloved throughout the North and well respected for his learning and justness.”
“I look forward to understanding him better.” Ned fiddles with the crucifix’s chain, his voice low. “Lord Rivers has been both a guardian and a father to me, and his love has protected me from danger and intrigue.”
“Lord Rivers will always be your beloved uncle—” A sudden thumping and shouting interrupts us. I rush to the open door, ready to stand between Ned and an intruder. Gloucester’s soldiers clatter along the gallery, banging on the flimsy walls and dragging the sleepy inhabitants from within. Ned’s half-brother Richard Grey is rushed towards the stairs, pushed and shoved like a commoner. Dear God. I did not even know of Grey being with Ned. And where is Lord Rivers?
Ned’s wail is smothered under the men’s rough tones.
Trying not to scream, I clasp his shoulders, the blades under his gown protruding like tiny angel wings.
“Traitor!” Gloucester thunders at Grey from the courtyard below, wheeling his mount in circles, careless of who is under its thrashing hooves. “You deceived the king that you and Rivers direct his coronation when you know I am Lord Protector of the Realm.”
Ned shrieks. “My brother is not a traitor!”
His cry pierces my heart. What in God’s name is Gloucester doing?
Richard Grey’s handsome face grimaces as he half falls down the stairs and is shoved across the courtyard. Dear God, his hands are bound behind his back like a common thief. Bile chokes my throat; my heart thumps a frantic beat.
“Your Grace, do not fear,” Grey calls up to us. “This is merely a misunderstanding. Our mother will put this to right—”
“Leave him alone. Let him go. Let him go!” Ned is sobbing now. I grab him to prevent him from breaking past the guards and running down the stairs after his brother.
Oh, Jack, what madness have I become caught up in?
“I cannot release him, Your Grace.” Gloucester dismounts in one easy motion and holds up his hands to Ned, who is trembling at my side. “Your brother and Lord Rivers have betrayed you and the crown of England. They are under arrest. They are both traitors to your father’s wishes.”
Traitors? How can this be?
A Woodville guard breaks free and frantically runs after Grey. Harry steps in his path, draws his dagger, and plunges it into his chest. The man falls, a gush of crimson blood spouting over the mossy-green cobblestones. I retch and turn Ned from the gore, clasping him tightly within my arms.
Dear God. Harry’s madness could be the death of all of us.
Harry wipes his blade on the man’s coat and shoves the weapon back in its scabbard. “Take heart, Nephew, for we are loyal only to you. You remember me—your beloved Uncle Harry, Duke of Buckingham, husband to your Aunt Katherine. We are your trusted friends. And family.”
How revolting he is. Beloved? After betraying his brother-in-law? Slaughtering a man in cold blood?
Ned wriggles free to face Harry. “Let my brother go!”
Harry throws his arm around Gloucester’s shoulders, flouting protocol. “I cannot, Your Grace. Your Uncle Gloucester and I are bound to serve your father and you. We carry out his dying wish to see you safely on the throne of England. Others are not so honest.”
“I don’t know. I don’t know what to do,” whispers Ned, his voice breaking.
I breathe deeply, try to steady my heartbeat.
I don’t know either.
What warning did I miss last night of this vicious turn against the Woodvilles? Yes, Harry and the Duke spoke of taking command of the king’s welfare. It was what his dying father had requested. But not arresting Lord Rivers like a criminal and dragging Ned’s brother in front of him in complete humiliation.
“Lady Scrope!” Gloucester’s command slices the silence. “Bring the king here.” Everyone is now looking at me.
My vow.
“Your Grace, you will do as your father directed and join his brother.” What would Jack say? I gather strength from the unquestioning Scrope loyalty to Gloucester. “Obey the man your father appointed your protector. The Duke of Gloucester has your best interests at heart. And those of England.”
But not those of Lord Rivers and Lord Grey. Gloucester may as well have locked up the queen’s brother and son and thrown away the key.
Harry leads Ned’s horse into the yard; his black-and-red-liveried guards surround the perimeter, menacingly silent with weapons drawn. This looks more like Buckingham has taken charge of the king rather than Gloucester. He gestures for Ned and me to come down to the courtyard.
I must obey.
Ahead is London and Ned’s coronation. Protect against all threats.
Remember your vow.
I take Ned’s hand. “Come, my lord. Your mother and Dickon await your arrival. Let us join your Uncle Richard,” I say, my words burying the seed of doubt deep in my heart. “For surely there was never a man more loyal to you or England’s throne than the Duke of Gloucester.”
“An extremely well-written book with depth and complexity to the main characters. The author says she wanted to write a book about family love and tolerance, and a woman’s loyalty and courage. She has done so. This is the best book I’ve read in ages!”
The Ricardian Bulletin – Richard III Society
“The authenticity and historical research displayed within this story is immense and exquisite. Ms. St. John is sure to be a newfound favorite for fans of not only this fractious time in English history, but of all historical fans who adore rich, immersive prose.
Historical Fiction Company 2022 Book of the Year
“A very enjoyable read. The historical veracity is impeccable, and Elysabeth is a likeable, admirable character who faces interesting dilemmas with love and courage.-\
Historical Novel Society
