My Lord John by Georgette Heyer

Author:Georgette Heyer [Heyer, Georgette]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9780330250146
Google: JYSDcytAHRwC
Amazon: B001KTUSPC
Goodreads: 311205
Publisher: Arrow
Published: 1975-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

Three

Fox of the North

1

When he reached London, John found Harry and Thomas there before him. They welcomed him joyfully, admitting him to their fellowship. They hailed him as Lord High Constable, and begged him to adjudicate between them on points of dispute, all of which he took in good part, grinning lovingly upon them both, and apostrophising them as lurdans and cumberworlds. ‘Or, as we say in the North,’ he added, ‘codsheads!’

‘ “As we say in the North!” ’ echoed Harry admiringly. ‘Do but pay heed to the worshipful Warden, Thomas! A full five months he has been in office! What’s your northern word for malapert, little John?’

John had not met Harry for so many months that for a day or two he was shy of him. Harry, with the scar of his wound still angry on his cheek, was now a man; and if, in holiday mood, he could indulge in madder pranks than any that had shocked his tutors, he seemed to John to have grown ten years beyond Thomas. Thomas had not greatly changed. In his sixteenth year he was fulfilling his early promise to be the best looking member of a handsome family. He was tall, and well-knit; tawny-haired, like his father, and with the straight nose of the Lancasters, and the full, curved lips which gave him a pronounced resemblance both to Harry and to his uncle John Beaufort. All three princes were much of a height, but the two elder ones were built on slighter lines than John. John had big limbs; and the aquiline trend of his nose was becoming more marked, so that Thomas asserted it was hard to tell him and his goshawk apart.

Thomas had enjoyed his service in Wales; and he did not seem to have quarrelled with Harry. He told John that Harry was a great captain, but very stark. ‘The men love him, but I can’t tell why, for he keeps a stricter discipline than anyone. Do you know, if the Welsh complain of any one of them, and he finds it to be just, he gives the poor wretch only time to be shriven before he sends him to the long-going!’

John asked Harry how he paid his men; and Harry answered: ‘Out of my livelihood – and still they are not paid! And you?’

‘Well, I have done that too,’ admitted John. ‘But I own no great livelihood, and the wages are more than three thousand pounds in arrears. Unbosom, Harry! What must I do? What do you do?’

‘Oh, I lead my men out to ravage Glendower’s lands, and plunder supplies that Father will not!’ Harry said.

‘I can’t do that. I may not break the Border.’

‘You may be glad! Plunder and rapine spoil the men, and breed up hatred against us. When I am King I will put an end to such usage!’

‘Yes, and in the meantime?’

‘Petition the King’s grace! He may send you fifty pounds!’

One week in the palace of Westminster had been enough to

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