If Richard had been here he would have shown me how foolish I was, or would he? Where our child was concerned he was as vulnerable as I was.
I prayed for my child. I had come through a great deal to reach this happiness. I could not lose it now.
I knew I should always be uneasy while Richard was away. I would always fear evil. I had been immature when I had been thrust into an unkindly world. It had left its mark on me. I should always be watching for disaster, even in the midst of my happiness.
Richard knew of it. He said I should grow away from it. But should I ever do that?
However, my child was well again, and I prayed that there would be no more alarms from little Edward.
He charmed my days. He made Richard's absence bearable. But at every moment I watched for Richard's return At last he came. He was in good spirits. I was in the solarium when he arrived and I ran down to meet him as he leaped from his horse.
"All's well," he cried, catching me in his arms.
"Come, I must tell you."
It was wonderful to sit beside him, his arm encircling me, while now and then he would hold me fast to him as though to imply he would never let me go.
He must first hear of little Edward. He was sleeping now, I told him, and his nurse never allowed him to be awakened, even for such an important event as the return of his father. I told of his chill and my agony. Richard laughed and said the nurse was right. I must not be foolishly anxious. I should rejoice that we had a healthy son.
"Now for the news," he said.
"The great Earl of Northumberland, Henry Percy no less, was at Nottingham, there summoned by the king. My brother exerted all his charm. He flattered Northumberland, knew of his love for the north, realised his loyalty and so on. But I was Lord of the North. I was keeping it loyal to the crown, and, as Percy knew, that was to the advantage of us all and should remain so. He had summoned Percy so that he and I should make a pact. Percy should be treated with all the respect due to him. He should maintain all the rights which had belonged to his family. The king was asking for his cooperation, for his help in keeping peace in the north. He was certain that, for Percy's own good and the good of us all, Percy would want to be part of that pact. I was however holding the north for the crown and I was in charge. If there were any differences of opinion, I would consult Percy. But I should be in charge. Percy agreed. He does really care about the north. He wants no trouble, and I believe he trusts me. We swore to stand together. I would respect his wishes; he would accept me as the higher authority. It was all very satisfactory."
Then it was a successful meeting, and I am glad that the king realises your presence is needed here not only by Percy and the rest, but by your wife and son."
"I think he understands that too. He would not call on me to leave here unless there was something serious afoot."
As he looked a little grave I said: "Do you think that is likely to be?"
"De Were is ineffectual. What gives me cause to worry is that George might be involved in his schemes."
"Against the king?"
"It would not be the first time he has been against the king. It saddens me. It saddens Edward that we have to be suspicious of our own brother."
"Perhaps the king will realise the folly of giving way to him. He does act so impulsively. It is all so obvious."
"I know. So we must be watchful. I have another piece of news for you, and I think you will like this better." I waited expectantly as he paused, smiling at me.
"Sir James Tyrell is going to Beaulieu."
"To my mother?"
"My brother George is not in the highest favour with the king Although Edward has tried to tell himself that the rumours about George's connections with de Were are false, in his heart he can' help knowing that there is some truth in them. You know George has been putting obstacles in the way of your mother's release Well, I thought this was a good time to put my point of view, as Edward is not inclined to favour George at this moment. Edward said: "Where would the Countess go if she left Beaulieu?" I replied: "Where, but to her daughter at Middleham? Anne longs to have her with her." Then the king said to me: "Richard, you have ever been loyal to me and I love you dearly. If it would please you to take the countess to Middleham, then do so ... and to hell with George." I wasted no time and I think it will not be long ere your mother is with us."
I could not contain my delight.
I said: "Surely this is the happiest day of my life! How delighted she will be. How she will love little Edward! I cannot wait for her arrival. And you, Richard ... my dearest Richard ... have done this for me. All my happiness comes through you, and everything that went before ... yes, everything ... is worthwhile since it has brought me to this."
I was eager to give my mother a wonderful welcome when she came to Middleham. For days I set the household preparing. I was glad that Richard would be able to join me in letting her know how happy we were to have her with us.
She arrived at length with Sir James Tyrell, who had been sent by Richard to bring her. He trusted Tyrell, he told me. He was a stalwart Yorkist and had received his knighthood for his services at Tewkesbury.
She had changed. It was, after all, a long time since I had seen her and I could imagine what parting with her family had meant to her.
We clung together and looked at each other and then clung again.
"My dearest, dearest child," she kept saying, over and over again.
Arms entwined, we went into the castle. It was as dear to her as it was to me.
This," she said, "is coming home."
Happy days followed. We were together most of the time. We talked constantly of the old times, the days of my early childhood. There was sadness, of course. There were so many memories of my father, that ambitious man whose desire for power had been the very pivot round which our lives revolved.
Now he was gone; I was happily married; so was Isabel, and although she was not with us, at least we both knew that she was happy and that her new daughter was a delight to her.
At first my mother did not want to talk of my father, but later she did and she told me how terribly disturbed she had been when the rift with Edward had occurred. She had understood his anger when the king had married Elizabeth Woodville, but had realised that he had miscalculated when he refused to accept the marriage.
"Your father was right, of course," she said. That is, about the marriage. Trouble would certainly be the result not so much because of the marriage itself, but because of her ambitious relations. Who would have thought that a marriage could have had such an effect on us all?"
"Dear Mother," I said, "marriages are important. If my father had not married you, he would not have wielded the power he did. His wealth and titles came from you and therein lay his ability to make and unmake kings. Who can say what is the greatest cause of the troubles which have beset our country? We have to accept what is and when we are happy rejoice in it, for it may not endure."
"How wise you have become, little daughter," she said.
"I have seen something of the world now. I have seen how people live in the lowest places something most people born as I was never see. I think it may have taught me a little.," Then let us not repine for what has happened. Let us be glad that we are together. But how I wish Isabel could be with us! I should love to see her with my little granddaughter."