Virginia Henley

by The Raven

  In actuality, the North was in an uproar, ready to flare like a bonfire. From Yorkshire to the northernmost border of England had always been Warwick country; Edward and Richard were on their way to York to shake their mailed fists at Warwick’s supporters.

  At the banquet following the christening, the King presented Roseanna with the Queen’s gift. Elizabeth had stayed behind in London, but she had sent a lavish gift of gold plate for Roseanna’s new son.

  “She is too generous, Your Grace,” said Roseanna with the utmost delight.

  The King grinned. “’Tis my money she is generous with, my Rosebud. Ravenspur, now that you are starting your own dynasty, why don’t you let me raise you to the peerage?”

  Roger shook his head. “Nay, baron is high enough for me, as I’ve often told you before.”

  “Roger!” scolded Roseanna. Turning to the King, she said, “If you are in a generous mood, Your Grace, you may give my son a title in his own right.”

  Roger looked abashed. “My God, the woman is insatiable where her new son is concerned. Are not my wealth and titles enough for him, madame?”

  Edward bent to whisper to his friend Roger, “She cannot help her ambition; ’tis in her Plantagenet blood.” He considered for a moment, then said, “From henceforth he shall be Viscount Gainsborough. There is a small town that goes with the title. ’Tis on the River Trent, just north of Lincoln.”

  She swept into a deep curtsey. “I thank you from the bottom of my heart, Your Grace.”

  The King spoke up. “Richard, I hereby make you Warden of the West Marches against Scotland.” A hush fell on the room, for the title had been Warwick’s since he was seventeen years old. Richard knew the people of the North would resent him bitterly and that it was no easy task the King had set him.

  “Henry Percy,” the King called in his booming voice, “to you I give the titles previously held by Warwick’s brother John. The Wardenship of the East Marches and the Earldom of Northumberland are yours.”

  Everyone in the room gasped. At last Edward was stripping Warwick and his family of their land and titles. Such was the price of treason; yet none in that room sat easy, least of all Ravenspur. He was glad he’d refused the title Ned offered him. He wanted no title that had been stripped from Warwick, for he knew the mettle of such an adversary.

  In France, Warwick had wasted little time. For generations, the sons of the noble families of Scotland had done service with the Kings of France. At the present time King Louis XI even had a hundred archers known as the Scotsguard. Warwick easily persuaded King Louis to lend him ships and troops to return to England and seize the throne.

  In September, Warwick sailed for England with an escort of French ships. Two great landholders who had been visiting France, Jasper Tudor and the Earl of Oxford, joined forces and sailed with him, as well as, of course, the King’s brother George, Duke of Clarence.

  King Edward’s spies reported that Warwick set sail on September ninth. As soon as he received the messages, he sent for Percy and Ravenspur to join him in York. They expected Warwick to land in Yorkshire, where his following was strongest, but news soon came to York that Warwick had landed in Devon and had been welcomed in Exeter like a returning hero.

  King Edward sent to Warwick’s brother John to bring his soldiers from Pontefract, but John had been stripped of his titles and had decided to join Warwick, who was marching toward Warwickshire and Coventry with a vast army. A few men deserted in the dead of night and joined the King.

  The news for Edward was all bad. Everywhere Warwick went, he raised troops easily, he met no opposition whatsoever. Edward, Richard, Percy, Ravenspur, and the other Yorkist nobles rode from York into Nottingham to rally men.

  Roseanna was thrown into total confusion when the King and most of his army landed at Ravenspur without notice. Every room was filled to overflowing with his knights and lieutenants, and the park was a sea of tents. Though it was barely October, winter had arrived with a vengeance, bringing with it high gales. She saw little of Roger, as he spent hours with the King and his nobles making plans, arguing, and listening while each man had his say.

  His voice was almost gone from shouting. He wanted the King to stay and fight, and he argued day and night that they should take the offensive and march out to meet Warwick. But the King received much conflicting advice. The thing he wished to avoid at all costs was becoming Warwick’s prisoner again. Edward realized that if it happened again, he would not escape with his life. His and Warwick’s fight was now a fight to the death; whoever fell into the other’s hands would die.

  The Duke of Burgundy was Edward’s brother-in-law. He decided to flee England to gather a force greater than Warwick’s.

  Roger was also kept on the run planning provisions for the great number of mouths to feed. He would fall into bed at night exhausted, with only enough strength to pull Roseanna against him for the rich succor she offered. In the privacy of the great high bed, he held her fiercely.

  “God’s balls, it is not in my nature to back down from a fight!”

  Roseanna was filled with a nameless fear. She went hot one moment and ice cold the next. She bit her tongue to prevent herself from begging him to stay; then a moment later she pressed her fist to her mouth to stop herself from begging him to flee. In a calm voice that surprised even her, she asked, “What will you do?”

  The question amazed him. “My duty, of course. My loyalty is pledged to Edward. He has decided on Burgundy, and that is where we go.” His arms tightened around her. “Warwick is close on our heels. We leave at dawn. I have to lead the King and his men through The Fens to the coast.”

  “No!” she cried, unable to hide her fear any longer.

  Their voices disturbed the sleeping child, and he cried lustily in protest. She was out of bed in a trice, crooning to the child as she rocked his cradle. Roger could not bear the emptiness beside him.

  “Bring him into bed with us. We may not be together again for a long time. I wish to God you were safe in sanctuary again with the Queen.”

  The baby nuzzled her breast, seeking the nipple, so she undid the ribbons and removed her nightgown. Her breasts swelled so beautifully, Roger was transfixed. “I’ll guard him with my life,” she promised softly.

  Silently he thought, That is what I am afraid of Aloud he said, “I have only three of my ships anchored on this coast; the other six are sailing out of Liverpool on the west coast. But they bring in great wealth, Roseanna. I’ve signed the papers necessary for you to administer everything in our son’s name. Should anything happen to me, he will come into the wealth and title immediately.”

  She put her fingers to his lips to silence him, and he veiled his eyes because he did not want her to see that her most casual touch had exploded desire in him like gunpowder. Her throat ached with unshed tears as she clung to him for these last precious hours. Finally, when the child slept, she took him back to his cradle and stood over him a long time, tears staining her cheeks.

  Roger knew of only one way to make her fears recede, if only for a little while. He slipped from the bed and enfolded her in his strong embrace. When their bodies touched, desire exploded between them, making them unable to think, only feel. He lifted her high above his heart, then let her body slowly slide down his until he was sheathed to the hilt inside of her. She cried out with the pleasure-pain and wrapped her legs tightly around him. Then slowly he carried her back to bed, keeping his hardness deep inside her body. He began a rhythmic thrusting, drawing his length almost fully out, then driving back into her again and again until they both exploded and cried out together from the intensity of their passion.

  He knew she would sleep deeply now. When her relaxed body drifted into slumber, he arose and went down to break camp and lead the men through The Fens.

  During the next two days, Roseanna tried to curb a fierce restlessness. She felt as if the walls of Ravenspur were closing in on her; she could not dispel a feeling of impending catastrophe. On the third day sh
e could stand being cooped up no longer, so in spite of the gale-force wind that was blowing, she saddled Zeus and rode hard and fast away from the park, which was still littered from the army that had been encamped there such a short time before.

  She rode for two hours and was beginning to feel her spirits lift. But as she galloped back into the courtyard of Ravenspur, her heart caught in her throat at the sight of a troop of horses awaiting her.

  George, Duke of Clarence, watched avidly as the ravishing woman rode up on the wild black stallion. She was wrapped in white furs, and her black hair, disheveled from the wind, swirled around her like a second cloak of sable. He felt his jaw sag as the full impact of her beauty hit him. So this was one of his brother’s women! No wonder he lavished gifts on her. Well, now she would be his to enjoy, along with the crown!

  Roseanna recognized him instantly, though she had never before seen him. His extraordinary height and resemblance to the King were impossible to mistake. He strode forward and took her horse’s bridle as she dismounted. She did not curtsey to him but offered him his correct title. “Your Grace, what do you want here?”

  He leered down at her. “You, now that I have seen you!”

  Her eyes snapped, and she lifted her chin in defiance, but she kept a rein on her tongue. “If you are passing through, allow me to offer you refreshment before you leave.”

  The smile left his face. “You know damned well why I’m here, you arrogant little bitch! My tight-arsed brother has escaped, thanks to Ravenspur—fled like the coward he is. Don’t try to deny it—the evidence of his army is everywhere. When did they leave?” he demanded.

  “A week ago,” she lied.

  He was secretly relieved that they were too long gone to pursue further. When he rejoined Warwick, he would keep his mouth shut about finding evidence. He’d keep the treasures of Ravenspur for himself! He licked his lips in anticipation as he looked his fill at Roseanna. His brother wouldn’t keep a whore who wasn’t well versed in the arts of the flesh. Her lush mouth and breasts spoke volumes.

  Roseanna’s color was high as she stood amid the gaping mounted men. The Duke of Clarence remounted and leered down at her. “One day soon I shall return, madame.” His eyes narrowed, and he added, “I mean to have you.”

  Roseanna was incensed. The man was vile! How could two brothers be so different? Now she realized why Roger had urged the King to put his brother in the Tower, and she understood fully Elizabeth Woodville’s venomous hatred of the man. Just wait until Roger returns, she thought heatedly. Then with hollow despair she realized what Roger’s exile meant.

  The next morning, two half-drowned men-at-arms emerged from The Fens; one dragged the other, who suffered two broken legs. They insisted on speaking with Lady Roseanna before their injuries were tended. Her heart in her throat, she whispered, “You have news?”

  “My lady, our news is terrible! The army took the Fen Road that leads along the shores of The Wash to the Port of Lynn. The wind was strong enough to blow the clothes off your back and cold enough to freeze the bones of the dead in their graves. The worst of the storm came up as we crossed the River Nene. It was a nightmare, flipping small boats over and drowning men and horses. The King and young Tristan were away safe on the first ship and the King’s brother Richard and Henry Percy on the second; but the hardest task was getting the horses aboard. Lord Ravenspur stayed to the last, doing the impossible as usual. But my lady, he went down ’neath that great white stallion. He didn’t stand a chance. Both of ’em are drowned, my lady. Saw it with our own eyes, we “No!” Her wail was heard in the farthest corners of Ravenspur; the servants came running in time to see her crumple to the floor. Kate Kendall immediately took charge and put her to bed. As she came up out of the blackness, she fought it to return to oblivion, for she knew full consciousness held something she could not face. She cried nonstop for three days, until her milk upset her baby son. Then she got a tight grip on herself for his sake.

  Rebecca came to stay with her and found their roles were now reversed. Roseanna walked around like someone in a trance. Quietly she sought out Mr. Burke. “There’s no one else I can ask, Mr. Burke. Would you go into The Fens and try to find him?”

  James Burke picked two stout stablehands and set out immediately. It took them two days to locate the scene of the disaster. In the end, it was the stench and the cry of the scavenging sea birds that led them to the bodies. It was easy to identify the body of the white Arabian stallion, but the bloated bodies of the drowned men were so decomposed that one could hardly be told from another. With superhuman effort, they half lifted the body of the horse. There, crushed beneath it, was what was left of the dark head of Ravenspur.

  James Burke took the decision upon himself. They would take back no remains. He would not let her see or smell what had once been her well-beloved husband. When he returned, he took her into Roger’s library, where they could be private. His grave demeanor confirmed her worst fears.

  “I found him,” he said quietly. “We buried him where he lay. It was impossible to bring him back through the waterlogged sedge and endless salt lands.”

  A solitary tear rolled down Roseanna’s pale cheek. “How did you find him?” she choked.

  “He lay beneath Mecca.”

  Her eyes glazed over, and he could tell she had drifted into the past, where she spent most of her waking hours these days. He quietly left her to her ghosts.

  Finally, Kate Kendall had had enough. She put pen to paper and wrote out a message to Joanna, Lady Castlemaine:

  You will be relieved to know that the King and most of his nobles and army have safely sailed for Burgundy, but by now perhaps you have learned that Baron Ravenspur lost his life while aiding the King’s escape. I beg you to come to Roseanna. She is like the living dead, and I fear for her sanity. I pray that your arrival will snap her back to life, as she is numb with her grief.

  Your obedient servant,

  Kate Kendall.

  In her chamber Roseanna stood listlessly as Kate helped her don a black silk mourning gown. Alice took up the brush to tend her mistress’s hair. Roseanna spoke plaintively as her son lay crying in his cradle: “Why does the baby cry so much lately?”

  Kate compressed her lips in annoyance, then spoke up in her most caustic tone. “He cries because you neglect him! You’re not the first woman to lose her man, nor will you be the last. All this belongs to that child now, and he needs someone strong to administer it for him, not some pathetic shadow that feels sorry for itself!”

  The words stabbed into her heart like the talons of a bird of prey. “Kate, how could you?” she whispered.

  Kate sniffed and gave Alice a sign to follow her from the room. She would leave her alone to think about the accusations she had just hurled at her.

  Roseanna went to the cradle, picked up the baby, and, holding him against her heart, crooned a soothing lullaby. She had fed him earlier, but she had not picked him up to cuddle him the last few days. She smiled down at him through her tears, seeing a small replica of Roger, and she whispered to him what was in her heart. “I’m sorry, my darling. I love you more than life itself. I promise I will be the best mother the world has ever known.”

  She talked to him and hummed and became so absorbed in what she was doing that the world receded. The baby slept contentedly. As she put him into the cradle, she gradually became aware of someone screaming and crying far below. The commotion was muted, yet Roseanna was vaguely annoyed at the racket. How dared they disturb her? Didn’t they know this household was in mourning? She hurried down two flights to the main reception hall, and her heart sank as she recognized George, Duke of Clarence. He was having a furious altercation with Mr. Burke, whose cheek, Roseanna was horrified to see, had been slashed by the riding crop that the King’s brother carried. She could hear Alice’s voice begging, and Kate Kendall was shouting profanities in an adjoining room.

  Roseanna strode past the duke and flung open the door. Two of George’s gentlemen had s
tripped Alice naked, and a third was holding Kate Kendall immobile from behind.

  Roseanna spun around furiously to face George. “Stop them instantly! That girl is a virgin!”

  George drawled, “Where would be the sport if she were not virgin?” but he held up his hand for his men to leave off their game. Kate led a sobbing Alice from the room.

  Furiously, Roseanna ordered, “You will leave my home at once! We are in mourning here.”

  “And you have no man to protect you,” George finished smoothly. “Therefore I am taking you under my royal protection.”

  “You are not King yet,” she pointed out bluntly.

  “I am King in name; it lacks only the crowning. Therefore, little girl, it would be in your best interest to please me, for with a mere lift of my hand I can do anything I desire.”

  “Piffle!” she disdained, her own royal blood boiling over.

  His eyes narrowed. “All titles conferred by Edward are null and void. Therefore your little Viscount Gainsborough is viscount no more.”

  She gasped. “You cannot do that!”

  He smiled and said silkily, “It is done.” He knew by her reaction that he had chosen the perfect means to gain his desires, namely her son.

  “What do you want here?” she cried.

  He spread his hands. “We only ask a little hospitality— guest rooms for the night, a meal, a little wine, somewhere where you and I can converse in private.”

  Quietly she gave orders to the servants to prepare the rooms and a special dinner. In the meantime they were to be given the best that Ravenspur’s wine cellars could provide. “If you would follow me, Your Grace,” she said coolly, and led the way to Ravenspur’s library.

  Slowly he took a turn around the room, picking up art objects and setting them down again. “I am beginning to realize the extent of Ravenspur’s wealth. I had to go into debt for my needs over the years.”