There was a great deal of activity around us and as soon as we were led into this place Margaret was taken away, and I was left in the care of two women. I wondered who they were. They appeared to be ladies of the court.
"I'll dare swear you are tired from your long ride, Lady Anne." one of them said to me.
"It was a little exhausting."
"We are going to bring you some food and perhaps you would like to wash your hands."
"I should be very pleased to do so."
A basin was brought in. They stood with me and one of them gave me a towel. Then they came with bread and meat with a flagon of ale.
I thanked them but could eat very little. I was wondering what was happening to Queen Margaret and what was in store for me.
A long time seemed to pass. The ladies were speaking in whispers together. They had clearly been sent to watch over me. Eventually two guards appeared at the door and I was told to follow them.
With wildly beating heart I did so and was taken to a small chamber. Standing by the window was the tall figure of a man, legs astride, his back to the door.
One of the guards said: "The lady, your grace."
He swung round and to my amazement I realised I was in the presence of King Edward. I was so astonished that I could only stare. Then, recovering myself as quickly as I could, I advanced and knelt.
I dared not look up at him. I was trembling and my heart felt as though it were trying to leap out of my body.
I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"You could rise." he said.
"It is not very comfortable on the knees."
I stood and lifted my eyes to his face. He was smiling and I was struck by his beauty.
"Little Anne Neville." he said.
"Why, you are only a child still." He drew me to him and kissed me, first on one cheek and then on the other. I was amazed at the warmth of his greeting.
"You tremble." he said.
"You must not be afraid. No harm shall come to you. You are not to blame. They used you, little Anne. I know that well. My brother assures me that you would be our friend. Is that so?" My eyes filled with tears as I lifted them to his face. I loved him then and I knew why it was that the people would have him as their king. He was a king in very truth for that gentle softness in no way detracted from his strength. Indeed, it added to it. I knew now why Richard admired him so much.
He said: "I sent for you. I wanted to speak to you myself. My brother my favourite brother Richard has told me of your friendship at Middleham. How old are you?"
"I am fifteen, your Grace."
"So young ... so very young. But you will grow up soon. You have suffered too much. You lost your father. That was a sadness for me. I want you to know that when the battle went against him, when I knew that he was in dire straits, I sent one of my men with my orders that his life should be saved. He was too old a friend of mine to die in conflict against me. It was none of my choosing that there should be war between us. We were friends for years and then ... But it is passed and he has paid a bitter price, and you, his daughter, are here. I know that you were put into the hands of the enemy. I know that you were betrothed to the prince. That is over now. Lady Anne, and you are going to be looked after. What say you to joining your sister, the Duchess of Clarence?"
"Oh, your Grace, if only I might!"
"You shall. She will be eagerly awaiting your arrival. And then you will be returned to what you meant to be ... a good subject of the king, eh?"
"Oh yes ... indeed yes, your Grace. I am so grateful."
"There, my child. You have a pretty face. You need rest though ... looking after. It has been a hard time, has it not? But our troubles are over, little Anne, yours and mine. So, let us rejoice. Very soon you will be with your sister. So prepare. But first, there is someone who would like to see you. Wait here and he will come to you."
I could not believe this. I had heard that the king liked to abandon formality at times; I had heard that he was generous and was often criticised for dealing too leniently with his enemies; but still I was astonished. Of course, he knew that it was through no desire of mine that I had been placed in the position I was in; but I was overcome by his air of bonhomie and the manner in which he had brushed aside the fact that I had been captured with the enemy and indeed had been made one of them. I was touched, too, by the way in which he had spoken of my father who had been killed fighting in an attempt to destroy him.
He was an unusual man and I felt in that moment that I would be loyal to him for the rest of my life.
I was left alone for a few seconds and then the door opened and Richard came in.
"Anne!" he cried and came towards me, his arms outstretched. He held me tightly against him for a few seconds. Then he drew back and looked at me.
"You've changed," he said.
"It has been a terrible time, Richard."
"I have thought of you often."
"And I of you ... so much."
He had changed too. He had not grown very much and still there was an air of delicacy about him. He must be nineteen now, for he used to say in the old days that he was four years older than I. But he was a man now ... no longer a boy.
We just stood looking at each other.
I said at length: "The king has been so good."
"He is the most wonderful man on earth."
"I understand how you feel about him. He says I am going to Isabel."
"For a while." he said.
"Then we shall see. Is that what you want?"
"I should like it very much. And my mother ...?"
"She will be in sanctuary for a while where it is safe for her. My brother George thinks you should go to your sister and, of course, Isabel will be delighted that you do."
"Richard, what of Queen Margaret?"
Richard's face hardened.
"I do not know," he said.
"It is not decided."
"Poor woman. She mourns the death of her son so deeply."
Traitors." said Richard.
"All of them. And her son ... you mourn him too? You were betrothed to him."
I shivered and he put his arm round me.
"I did not like that overmuch." he said.
"I hated it, Richard. It is wrong of me, but I cannot help but be glad that I escaped."
"The whole of England should rejoice that you have escaped," he said.
"This will be the end. There will be no more Lancastrian risings. They are well and truly beaten, God willing, for ever." "Do you believe that to be so, Richard?"
"My brother with myself and our faithful friends are going to make sure that it is so. Anne, there is so much to talk of. But this seems hardly the time. When you are with your sister, you will be in my brother's household. I shall see you often. There is so much to catch up. So much time has been wasted."
I nodded.
"This has happened so suddenly. Only a few hours ago I was riding to Coventry wondering if my destination was the Tower."
"You were never blamed, Anne. I am sorry about your father. Edward is sorry, too. He tried to save his life. He offered him a pardon ... before Barnet... but the earl would not take it. He had to go on to the end. How did it happen? He had always been our friend. How could he have turned traitor as he did? I looked up to him so much. Next to Edward I admired him more than any man I knew. He was so brave ... so clever; he knew so much ... and then suddenly... it ends."
"It was a great tragedy," I said.
He took my hands and smiled at me.
"We have to forget it, Anne. We have to start afresh."
He looked at me rather shyly and then, drawing me to him, kissed my lips.
I was still bewildered. The contrast had been too sudden. A warm contentment was beginning to creep over me. It was like the old days at Middleham. Richard was back in my life.
There was much to look forward to. We talked for a short while in a leisurely way, recalling the old days.
Coventry w
ill always have a special place in my thoughts, for I had entered that city feeling all was lost and there I found hope for the future.
I did not know what was happening to Queen Margaret. I did not see her so was unable to tell her of my good fortune. Poor Margaret! How different her fate was from mine. She would be the king's prisoner, his deadly enemy. In spite of his generous leniency, I could not believe there would be a very happy fate in store for her.
Isabel was waiting for me at Warwick Court in London. I ran to her and we were in each other's arms, clinging together.
"Isabel!" I cried emotionally.
"Is it really you? My sister, I can't believe this is true."
"It is. It is," she cried.
"And Anne ... how thin you are! I must look after you, I see."
"So much has happened. There is so much to tell."
She put her arm through mine and, looking over her shoulder at the attendants in the background, went on: "I will take the Lady Anne to her chamber."
I had wondered fleetingly why I should be going to Warwick Court which had been one of my father's residences. It was the custom for property of traitors to be confiscated. But of course Isabel was not a traitor, being the wife of Clarence who had repented in time.
The room to which I was taken was one which I had occupied on others visits to Warwick Court on those rare occasions when the family had been in London.
She shut the door and we were alone. She stood looking at me and I noticed how she had changed. I suppose she had never been the same since she had lost her baby. Memories came back to me of that terrible night at sea when I had watched that little body being consigned to the waves. How tragic everything was!
"I have thought so much about you." said Isabel.
"To be with that terrible woman."
"You mean Queen Margaret? She was formidable. But I grew to be quite fond of her, in a way."
She smiled and shook her head at me.
"You were always too easily beguiled. And betrothed to that young man! Her son! I have heard such stories about him."
"I never knew him. I only feared that I might have to."
"Well, that is over now and you are back with me. George is going to be your guardian. He will look after you."
"George!"
"Of course. It must be George. Isn't he my husband, and you are my sister. It's natural."
"Perhaps our mother?"
Her face clouded.
"What of our mother? I worry about her. What will become of her? Our father is branded traitor and she, his wife, they will say shared his guilt."
"What else could she have done but what she did?"
That, sister, is not considered. She was with him. She helped him. She was against Edward and therefore I fear for her."
"The king is not unkind. He was good to me." "George spoke for you ... begged that you should be brought here."
"I thought it was Richard who spoke for me."
She smiled.
"Oh, perhaps Richard, too. But the king has put you in our charge, which is the natural thing to do."
"Yes, I suppose so. But how I do wish we could hear from our mother."
"George will let no harm come to her. He knows that would hurt me. We can trust George."
I felt an uneasy qualm. I had never felt that I could trust George. I could not forget that it was only a little while ago when he was with my father. He had thought he could drive his brother from the throne and take it himself. And when my father's prospects were in doubt, George immediately made peace with Edward. Was that a man whom one could trust?
But he was Isabel's husband and she cared for him. She should, of course, know him better than any.
She was looking at me with concern.
"You are so thin." she repeated.
"And you look pale. I am going to look after you. I shall keep you quiet for a while, make you rest and go early to bed. My poor little sister, you are too young to be at the centre of drama as you have been of late."
"I am so happy to be with you, Isabel. If only our mother could be here I should be content."
"Who knows? She may be joining us. George will see what can be done. Now you will rest. Are you hungry? Come and lie down. I insist. I will sit with you and we will talk ... and talk."
I obeyed and she did and, although a certain peace crept over me, it was tempered with faint feelings of apprehension.
Perhaps I could not believe that after all the stirring events of the past I could ever live quietly and at peace again.
I was exhausted and slept well. In the morning a woman came to attend to my wants and to my pleasure I saw that she was Ankarette Twynyho whom I remembered from the past.
Ankarette was the jolly, talkative woman who had been widowed when she was quite young and had served Queen Elizabeth Woodville for a few years before coming to us. She had been a favourite with the queen, perhaps because of her avid interest in people and her talent for gathering gossip. I remembered Isabel's telling me that the queen had recommended her. It was a pleasure therefore to see Ankarette.
The duchess has been so anxious about you, my lady." she said.
"She could speak of nothing but her dear sister, the Lady Anne. And when we thought you were going to marry Prince Edward ... I can tell you we were all dismayed. That would have put you good and truly on the other side, would it not, my lady?"
"Alas, Ankarette, I was not consulted in the matter."
"That's so my lady. I often think how lucky some of us be when it do come to mating. There was I with my Roger. I could have been a contented wife ... but the Lord saw fit to take him."
"So you have suffered too, Ankarette."
"Aye. But I've had my good fortunes and one of them has been to serve the duchess and now you, my lady."
"I am pleased to see you again, Ankarette."
She was indeed assiduous in her care for me; and it was from her that I discovered what was happening outside Warwick Court.
It was she who told me how Queen Margaret had ridden, as a prisoner, in the triumphant procession into London when Edward returned to the capital, king once more, with the Lancastrian armies in full retreat, and the man who had called himself Prince of Wales now dead and his mother the queen, whom the people had hated, vanquished while her husband, poor old Henry, was a prisoner in the Tower.
"Poor soul," said Ankarette.
"I could almost find it in my heart to be sorry for her. True, she has brought great trouble to this country. Ah, if only poor King Henry had been the man his father was ... then we should have had none of this War of the Roses. But then we could not have had King Edward ... and he's the man the people want. He's a king ... every bit of him. So you see, my lady, that is life. A bit of good ... a bit of bad ... both meted out to us all. Let's hope we've had our share of the bad for a while and now let's have a strong dose of the good. But the shame for that poor queen ... a captive driven there with the victors and her husband a prisoner ... her armies defeated. No matter what she is, you must spare a thought for her."
"Yes," I said.
"She would suffer deeply. I grew to know her. She cared so much for her son. I think perhaps that now he is dead she does not mind so much what happens to her." "Poor soul." said Ankarette.
It was not long before there was more startling news, and it was Ankarette who imparted it to me.
She made a habit of going into the streets and talking to people whenever she could. It was sure that when she was in the country she must have missed this a great deal, but here at Warwick Court, she had ample opportunities and because it was in London, at the centre of events, she could keep us well informed. Thus I heard of the death of Henry almost as soon as it had happened.
She liked to talk to me because I was particularly interested in what the people thought; and this was an item of such magnitude that everyone would be talking about it. Indeed it was not long before the rumours began to be circulated.
Ankarette said: "They
have announced that King Henry died in the night ... the very night of that very day when King Edward rode in triumph into the city. He died, they said, of displeasure and melancholy." Ankarette raised her eyebrows.
"There are some who are asking if people can really die of such maladies."
"He was without doubt very weak," said Isabel.
"He was weak of mind, my lady, but do people die of that?"
"I suppose," said Isabel, "that if a man is sufficiently afflicted, he can die of anything." Ankarette shook her head.
"They are already whispering ..."
"Are there not always whispers?"
To die at such a time, they are saying. He was kept alive, some say, because he was mad and unfit to rule. If he had died before ... while the prince was alive, that young man would have been ready for the crown ... a king, some would call him instead of a prince. That would have been dangerous. They are saying that the king had been allowed to live while there was the threat of the prince. But now he is dead, there was no longer any need to keep the king alive."
"You listen to too much gossip, Ankarette," said Isabel.
"It is one way of learning what is going on, my lady."
"One learns a great deal about what people think is going on."
"And somewhere in it there might be a grain of truth," insisted Ankarette..
"What will this mean?" I asked. Isabel said: "There will no longer be a threat from Lancaster.
The prince and heir is dead. King Henry is dead. The House of York is next in line. So whatever was thought before, everyone must see now that Edward is the rightful king."
The House of Lancaster still exists," pointed out Ankarette.
"There are the Tudors."
"They descended from Queen Katharine, wife of Henry the Fifth, I believe." I said.
"Through Owen Tudor." said Isabel.
"They are bastards."
"Some say there was a marriage." I reminded her.
"Nonsense." she retorted.
"The House of York is now firmly on the throne. There is no one to displace them now. I am sorry for poor Henry, but he did not care much for life."
"I wonder what Queen Margaret feels now." I said.
"Oh, you are too kind to her, Anne." said Isabel.
The Reluctant Queen Page 15