by Anne O'Brien
‘To kill can be a political necessity.’ A cold shrug. ‘Have you asked him?’
‘No. We have barely exchanged any conversation before tonight. I could hardly ask him if he murdered my husband in the middle of a round dance, could I?’
‘Perhaps not.’ She gripped my clasped hands with one of hers and I felt the power in her. ‘Listen to me, girl. I’ll give you some valuable advice. Better than any from the King or Gloucester.’ She leaned close so that her words would not carry. ‘Unless you wish to be a cipher, it is necessary to fight for what you want in this life. If you don’t, you will be pushed and manipulated to suit the interests of the men who surround you. And sometimes—to get what you want—you must be prepared to accept the apparently unacceptable.’
I found myself drawn into her gaze, fascinated. Here was a lethal ambition that would stop at nothing. I knew why Richard hated her, and in that moment I knew I must never trust her. They said that she had drawn Edward in to an enchantment to ensure her place in his bed and at his side. I could well believe it. I might have thought she was being kind to me in her advice, but she was not. She was only tolerant of me because I was no threat to her.
‘I can see your thoughts,’ she mocked, the direct stare gleaming, causing me to flush. ‘You have to make a decision, Anne. Forget love. Do you want him?’
‘Yes.’ I could be nothing less than honest.
‘Do you wish to marry him?’
That was the sticking point.
‘Of course you do. All that matters in this life is power. If you wed Gloucester, the knight who will stand for you and fight for you, you will get your precious inheritance. If you reject him, you will get nothing. Do you want that? Do you want to live out your days as a nun? If you reject him, you have less wit than I would have expected from a Neville—and I’m wasting my time here.’
There it was. I might stiffen against her criticism. Her advice might be delivered without any compassion for my situation, but I could not deny its truth.
‘Take him. You’ll be a fool if you don’t! And you’ll deserve to take the veil!’
She raised her hand to attract Edward’s attention. I watched them approach, reading nothing in Richard’s face other than impatience. Presumably with me. This time I stifled the sigh.
‘So,’ Edward said hopefully, ‘will you take my brother? You have the right to refuse. You are under no man’s authority in this.’
‘Not even Clarence’s?’
‘No. He is not your guardian. I merely put you into his care. You are your own mistress here.’
I looked at Richard, my chin a little tilted, a little raised. ‘Well?’ I asked. I would not make it easy for him and he recognised it, the faint lines at the corners of his eyes, the glint of light there betraying his awareness of my challenge. Even so he remained dispassionately aloof, and his request was not in the words of a lover.
‘This is not how I thought of wooing you, lady, rushed and dangerous with an unfortunate need for secrecy. I hope you are not blind to my feelings for you. I would be honoured if you would become my wife.’
Cold, efficient, it smacked of a business transaction. He had not even touched me, much less declared his undying affection! Resentment still bound me. Unsurprisingly I retaliated in similar vein.
‘Nor is this how I would wish to be wooed.’ Still I balked. ‘I am unsure of your feelings towards me. The best I can say is that I will consider your request, sir.’
‘That’s settled, then.’ Relief swept Edward’s face as if I had given my consent. I saw nothing in Richard’s as the brothers looked at each other. This plan had, it seemed, already been in the making, with or without my agreement. ‘I shall put in hand the matter of the dispensation,’ Edward stated. ‘You, Anne, will return to Cold Harbour under a royal escort—with some explanation of attack by footpads from which you were rescued. Not difficult.’ He swept the little problem aside. ‘You will continue your life there under Clarence’s protection until all is arranged. This meeting never happened. The matters discussed here and agreed on will not be talked of.’
Had I agreed?
I had said no such thing. I had given Richard nothing beyond notice of my dislike of his dealings, a cool promise to think about it. As a well-mannered daughter of Warwick I had to crush the scream of vexation that bubbled to my lips. The King, I had been led to understand, had decided with or without my consent.
‘Will you be here at Westminster?’ I asked Richard in a deserted audience chamber, the briefest of moments before an escort was arranged for me.
‘No. Edward sends me north. I shall return before the dispensation.’
I suppressed the intense regret that I should not see him. I have not yet said I will wed you! So much still unspoken between us. Tell me you love me! Now, before I must go. If it is so, then tell me! I didn’t say the words. I couldn’t. Nor could I speak of my love for him.
Then the echo of Edward’s footsteps could be heard and we must of necessity part. It would not do for Richard to be seen with me in the public rooms of Westminster or in the outer Courts. No one must see or hear anything that placed us together, that could be reported back to Clarence.
‘Adieu, my dear girl,’ he said gravely. He lifted one hand to smooth my unveiled and untidy hair from my forehead. ‘God be with you and keep you safe until I can come for you.’
The blessing touched my senses and all my previous resentments softened. For the briefest moment I caught his hand, enfolding it within my own, savouring the warmth of his palm, before I lifted it to press it against my cheek, all the while trying desperately to hold at bay my anxiety at my growing isolation. Returning to Cold Harbour was like being thrown back into the lion’s den. ‘Don’t forget me,’ I murmured.
‘How could I ever? It would not be possible this side of the grave.’
I breathed out softly, my lips turned against his palm. It was not much of an avowal of love perhaps, but enough to light a little flame that would warm me through the following days. There would be no time for more between us as I could hear Edward’s voice approaching, summoning me. Instinctively my grasp of Richard’s hand tightened as, at the same time, he pulled me off balance against him. Next moment I was in his arms and they were banded tight around me, his mouth hard on mine. My whole world became encompassed by the strength and nearness of his body, as the flame between us, a mere flicker no longer, leapt to a scorching heat. Stunned into awareness, with no comparison to make between this and the sweet kisses of our young courtship, I could do nothing but cling to him, allowing him the hot possession. I had dreamed of this for so long, but with no understanding of the magnificent reality. I was breathless from the power of it.
Until he released me as suddenly as he had swooped. My inexperience, I realised, was glaring, as I was abandoned in a little space to look at him in wordless amazement. Was this how a man kissed a woman he loved? What drove Richard to this? The look on his face was more one of pain than delight, before it was smoothed over. I had no familiarity with such emotions at Prince Edward’s hands to deduce it for myself. For sure, it seemed to give Richard no pleasure, rather a fury of need.
‘By God, I want you, Anne, and I will have you yet.’ He spoke his intent as if it were a sacred oath. ‘No one, not even the King, will stand between us.’ But no, I realized, it was no sacred oath after all. More the determination of a predatory male to own the object of his desire. Richard Plantagenet desired me and would possess me, letting no one stand in his way.
The ruthlessness might shock me, but not the sentiment. For if I had ever questioned my love for him, I could no longer. Whatever he had or had not done, whatever blood had been spilt by his hands, that one kiss had stirred my emotions into blazing life. And I, with my heart bounding in my chest, my lips tender, could find not one word to say to him.
Then Edward was at the door.
‘Anne…’ Richard said.
‘Yes?’
But he shook his head. ‘Nothin
g. Be safe.’
I went with Edward, too shaken to speak, but turned at the last to look back. Richard still stood where I had left him. Our eyes touched and held. He bowed formally, before he walked away.
I found myself escorted back to Cold Harbour. On that short journey I buried the disturbing remnants of that embrace in the deep recesses of my heart. Instead I took to turning over in my mind the one subject that had not been touched on in the whole discussion. Deliberately so, I was certain. The Countess, my mother, shut away under guard in Beaulieu Abbey. The lands and titles under such intense discussion were hers. But they were not free to be inherited. Nor would they be until she was dead. She was barely more than forty years old.
Suddenly I had another fear to squeeze my heart.
‘You seem very calm. Surely you were frightened,’ Isabel observed.
‘I am calm now. I was terrified then. But I am safe, as you see.’
The explanation of the attack on me and my escort, and thus my late return under royal protection, caused no undue comment at Cold Harbour. These things happened. How fortunate I was to escape the alesoaked thieves who prowled the streets after dark, with nothing more than a ruined veiling and a fistful of bruises to show for my adventure. I played my role to perfection.
‘You’ll not leave these gates without a stronger escort in future,’ Clarence decreed, scowling heavily at no one in particular.
Magnificently guileless, I agreed. ‘Obviously, it’s not safe.’
‘And Francis Lovell came by chance to rescue you,’ Isabel marvelled.
‘Yes. Wasn’t that fortunate?’
Beneath the surface my blood simmered, but I would keep my temper with Isabel, however much I was provoked, however much the devious plottings hidden behind her smooth face and friendly smiles disgusted me. I must exercise every last ounce of will to preserve an innocent and compliant demeanour. If she suspected any attachment, any suggestion of marriage, I would be parcelled off to a convent quicker than an arrow could leave the bowstring of a Welsh archer. My sister had learnt her lessons well from her grasping husband. It astonished me that I could pretend an apparent indifference to Isabel’s constant closeness and well-disguised deceit, but I polished my skills of benign geniality as outrage swam just below the surface. The only blessing was that Clarence was much occupied at Court. I could not have borne to sit across from him every morning over ale and bread whilst I kept my fury within bounds.
Richard went north to Middleham. How I wished that I too could be at Middleham. Cold and grey at this time of year with rain squalls and biting winds, it could be drear and dismal beyond bearing. I would have given anything to be there with him.
Chapter Seventeen
IN the end, I lost my nerve. Because I was alone, without counsel, without anyone I could trust. Was it weakness of spirit? If I had had a confidante I think I should have held firm, but I could not even unburden myself to Margery. She was kind and loving, but she was in Isabel’s employ so where would her ultimate loyalties lie? I did not distrust her, but I could not tell her of my deepest fears. And I was so weary of guarding myself with Isabel and Clarence, watching every word I uttered. Isabel stuck to my side like an apothecary’s leech.
I was alone. I did not appreciate until that moment how very lonely I was.
And so I panicked.
Isabel began to talk of an immediate return to Warwick. It seemed an agreeable scheme that raised no suspicions, until she mooted the plan to divert to Tewkesbury on the way. Would that not be the most suitable place to endow a convent, the magnificent Abbey already extended and embellished with Beauchamp-Despenser money? What better place to establish a convent for daughters and widows of wealthy families who chose to serve God before the lure of the flesh?
In an instant recognition I saw myself enclosed there. By the time Richard retuned from the north I could find myself spirited away and enclosed behind the Abbey doors at Tewkesbury, condemned to holy captivity even if I had not agreed to any vows. Neither Richard nor the King would be able to rescue me.
I would be locked away until the day of my death.
Panic flared. My nerve broke. Risking interception, I wrote. The letter took no writing. There was little I needed to say to make my fears known and I took no care over the content.
To the Duke of Gloucester
Circumstances have changed. We are to return to Warwick before the end of the month. I fear that my own destination is to be Tewkesbury where I shall be kept close in sanctuary, much as my mother is at Beaulieu, until I can take the veil. I think I can expect no overt help from the King so I must look to you for rescue.
I beg that you will come and remove me from this house.
I fear you may be too late.
Your faithful cousin,
Anne Neville
Who to take it for me? I dare trust no one of Clarence’s. I had to take the risk.
‘Margery…do you have any acquaintance in London, any family?’
‘A cousin. A glovemaker in Cheapside. He’s married with a growing family.’
‘Anyone of an age who would take a letter for me with all speed?’
‘Why?’ Her casual interest deepened. ‘Where do you need to send a letter, lady?’
‘It doesn’t matter where. But I am in need.’
‘I don’t see—’
I grabbed her arm. ‘Do you wish to see me become a nun, Margery?’
There were no more questions from her—that made me believe my fears were truly justified. The letter was sent. All I had to do was wait and restrain myself from hurling accusations of treachery along with a mug of ale at Isabel’s head.
Disaster struck, prompted by the King’s own hand, although even he, with his intimate knowledge of Clarence’s capacity for deception, could not have foreseen the outcome. The whole affair was so cunningly managed, outrageously clever but, above all, and willingly connived at by my own sister, coldly vindictive.
We heard the peremptory strike of hooves on cobbles as Clarence galloped his horse into the courtyard at Cold Harbour, and the firm slap of his boots as he strode up the steps, until he burst through the door of the parlour where Isabel and I passed an hour over a game of chess. Short of breath, his chest heaved. His face was drawn with anger, his eyes blazed with it.
‘Out!’ he snarled at Margery and Isabel’s ladies. They scurried to obey.
My blood froze in apprehension. With the passing of days I had begun to dream that Richard would arrive at our door in time to rescue me. Breathing shallowly, I waited to hear what had caused this outburst. Clarence rounded on me before the door had barely closed.
‘What trickery is this, madam?’
‘I know of no trickery.’ I rose carefully to my feet, abandoning an attack on Isabel’s Queen with my bishop. I would not answer such an accusation sitting down, but my legs were weak with fear.
‘My lord?’ Isabel came quickly to Clarence’s side, to touch his arm in what I considered ingratiating concern, but he shook her off and advanced on me, fists clenched. I stood my ground, even though I knew he would like nothing better than to strike me, to vent his anger, but his control was better than that.
‘Your sister is not as innocent as she looks.’ His words for Isabel, the smile that touched his fine features thin, feral. ‘That sweetly compliant exterior, so much out of character as you yourself have remarked. Sweet words, gentle acceptance. Yes, Isabel. No, Isabel. Any bloody suggestion you make, Isabel! She fooled us well and truly. She has not changed at all! Behind our back she had been following her own plans, aided and abetted by my brother.’
‘Helped by the King?’ Isabel’s expression was one of disbelief.
‘Gloucester! Who else!’ Clarence did not take his eyes from me as he circled me. I could feel them as they bored into my very soul with the well-honed sharpness of a dagger. ‘I am informed, this very morning, by Edward himself that there is an agreement already made—that your sister will wed Gloucester.’ Now he was facing
me again. ‘I won’t ask you if it is true. I know it is.’
I refused to confirm it with magnificent hauteur.
‘And, Edward also informs me…’ now his tone was silky smooth ‘…there is already an agent in Rome with the ear of the Pope, seeking a dispensation.’
‘What of it? It is my right to make such an agreement.’ I must brazen it out, even though I had only agreed to consider the offer. I kept my eyes on those furious blue ones, horrified by the hot revulsion I saw there. How had he kept it hidden for so long, pretending to be my caring brother whose sole aim was to smooth my future path? He would have me clapped in a nunnery within the hour if he could.
‘Gloucester is on his way back to London,’ he continued. ‘I expect you know that already. And when he gets here, his intention is to take you from my house. And the King orders me—orders me!—to hand you over into his keeping.’ He spat out the final words.
So Richard had sent ahead to warn Edward of our planned journey. And Edward, in his attempt to prevent my abduction to Tewkesbury, had instead cast the spark to light this conflagration. God’s Blood! I cursed silently. How could Edward not have seen the repercussions? How could he trust Clarence so blindly with my safety? But I allowed none of my terror surface.
‘I will go with Richard when he comes for me,’ I replied calmly despite the galloping thud of my heart.
‘You will not, Madam Anne!’ Clarence snarled in my ear as he circled me again. ‘As I informed the King, I am your legal guardian. You were put in my charge, and that of your sister, by Edward himself. You will do as I say. Any Court in the land will uphold my legal rights over you. I will make the arrangements for you, not Gloucester! The last thing I will allow is for you to marry him, however compliant Edward might be.’
‘You have no such legal jurisdiction over me or my actions.’ Still I held tight to my courage. ‘I am of age and as a widow have every right to determine my own future. I can give myself in marriage where and when I will. I will wed your brother if I so wish. He has asked me, in the King’s presence, who saw no objection. What right have you to question it? You cannot stand in my way.’