Stamford, seat of Sir John Stafford

[Dirty Chai]

Stamford is where Sir John Stafford, one of the eldest living grandsons of Anne of Gloucester, is lord and where he holds a castle by the same name, given to him by his father, the 1st Duke of Buckingham, as a title and appanage.

Here lives John Stafford, "Lord Stamford"; and his wife, Constance Green, and their child, Edward Stafford.

Map of Stamford (castle in the southwestern edge)

[Oznerol]

ooc: Are you seriously going to make me post this?

Woodville rides to Stamford, seeking Buckingham, as elusive as ever.

[Dirty Chai]

(Come now, Oz, don't be so slothful)

Stamford was a robust castle town, and its rock was no modest burg. A square tower rose from the center of the fortress, a relic of old days, but was crested with a conical roof and spire which was likely added in the past generation or so. It looked old and musty, but Woodville would immediately feel quite a bit of warmth inside the great hall - a good place to winter, as it kept in the heat well.

The Duke of Buckingham, at last, awaited him in a drawing room, alongside Lord Stamford.

[Oznerol]

"By the nails of...!"

The man sent by Rivers was John Woodville.

"One would have guessed, by all those miles I had to ride, that you're marrying my wife, instead of my sister Catherine"

He chuckled, while removing his gloves and cloak. John Woodville had infamously married a woman thrice his age.

"The roads are a mess already, God's sake. Anyway, greetings, your Grace, we are deeply honored by this match"

He said, formulaic.

[Dirty Chai]

Neither Stafford was amused by the mention of the infamous Catherine Neville, a woman married to a man who could be her grandson. And here he was, yet another symbol of the Woodvilles, who seemed to have no regard for station or proper rite.

John, as lord of the castle, spoke first. The Duke remained sitting; a fire was very close to him, keeping the blue-blood warm and comfortable.
"Welcome to Stamford, sir," the tournament victor spoke softly, a beard starting to grow out around his jaw, "Truly, you did not need to ride to Warwickshire."

Henry finished the thought. "I made it well clear that I intended to stay here for the winter, sir Woodville. Apologies, then, that apparently it was not clear enough."

[Oznerol]

"Apparently. At least keeps me away from my wife, truly. So, no need to apologize"

He said, coming closer to the fireplace to warm his hands.

"You should smell her breath; she lost her teeth like fifteen years ago"

He looked at his eventual nephew.

"Anyway, your Grace, my brother sent me to discuss the terms of the dowry, as you may know already"

[Dirty Chai]

The duke blinked, watching their guest. John took a seat and seemed to relax, also watching but with an older man's curiosity.

"Well, go on then," Henry told the man.

[Oznerol]

"What about... fifty thousand, eh?"

He rubbed his hands.

[Dirty Chai]

"Seventy thousand," Buckingham immediately countered. John smiled suddenly, amused.

[Oznerol]

"Eh... fifty five"

Haggling. Wonderful.

[Dirty Chai]

Harry didn't budge. "Seventy thousand," he repeated, giving Woodville an intense but soulless look.

[Oznerol]

"Seventy thousand! But those are only thirty thousand crowns less than Mary of Burgundy's own dowry!"

Said Woodville.

"We cannot pay more than sixty thousand, and we would even have to take a loan to pay all of it"

[Dirty Chai]

"Sixty thousand then, for your sister's comfort and upkeep," Buckingham relented after silent moment.

[Oznerol]

"Oh God, how satisfactory is to spend someone else's coin, don't you agree? We will contact one of our prefered bankers at London, he will write a bill of exhange to your name, my Lord"

He placed both hands in the armpits.

"Would you have, per chance, warm wine, sire? It's freezing outside"

[Dirty Chai]

"Of course, please" it was John who answered, happy to change the subject, and he gestured for Woodville to sit with the two Staffords. A servant soon was beside them, pouring a cup for each.

Buckingham drank from a heated goblet and, though he doubted the Woodvilles were so bereft of coin when half of the manors which the duke had inherited from the ancient de Bohun estate were taken - stolen, Stafford would tell you - into the crown when he was warded to Edward's queen, he allowed the conversing with their guest to change to something less born of hostility.

"Did you know," Harry said, looking into the fire rather blankly, "that these lands are said to have once been part of the sea, before the sea gave way to the wash, and then to the fens. The greyfriars in Lincoln told me this." Stamford was in the very south of Lincolnshire, not all that far from the Isle of Ely, firmly in the heart of the so-called Wash.

[Oznerol]

"No way! Really? I didn't know"

Said Woodville, with awe.

"This is a fine place, undoubtedly. I bet these lands were flooded by the Deluge, back when old Noah was drinking himself to stupor, something that I plan to do"

He sipped the offered wine eagerly.

"My wife is rich, yet she is so miserly doesn't even buy me a good barrel of wine! Don't talk about the spices required about hippocras... She prefers 'cider', whatever that crap might be"

[Dirty Chai]

At first, Henry thought Woodville to be mocking him, but realized with surprise at how genuine his reaction had been. Then, it was always back to this elderly wife of his.. Both Staffords tried to hide their dislike of the subject, but finally allowed the man some room to air his grievances, since he was so determined to get them out.

"Truly? No wine?" John asked, giving the man a sympathetic look.
"Isn't cider made of apples the way wine is made of grapes?" The younger but more wealthy Stafford added.

[Oznerol]

"No wine. She knows I married her for her purse (why would I have married her, otherwise?) and has me on a leash. Likes to fancy herself as my mistress"

He lowered his voice.

"I have to... ehhhhhh... take my lovers to the barn or the stables. All that straw... everywhere. What a mess.... She gets so jealeous, once he clawed my face!"

*shivers*

"Honestly, my sister sometimes has te--terrible ideas!"

He was a bit drunk already.

[Dirty Chai]

John looked ever more amused, in his aging wisdom. Henry appeared the same as ever, however, and internally agreed with his guest about the queen and her ideas.

Lord Stamford, then, continued to indulge Woodville, feeling a bit warmed by the wine himself.
"Do you perform your marital duties?" John asked, completely unashamed, yet noticeably jovial.

[Oznerol]

"I had to consummate the marriage. She so--so--metimes asked for it. I'm not proud of it"

He poured himself more wine.

"It's like an old leathern purse. You just don't want to know"