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"At least we are together, Mother."

"I shall be forever grateful to Richard," said my mother.

"And I too," I assured her.

We had news from Isabel. To her delight she was once more pregnant. My mother fervently wished that she could go to her, but I pointed out that even if that were possible, she would come into the clutches of the Duke of Clarence who had done all in his power to keep her confined at Beaulieu. I could see that she did not entirely believe this. She, too, had been a victim of George's charm. It amazed me how that man could perpetrate the most atrocious crimes and with a smile shrug them aside with an air of 'let us be friends' and all seemed to be forgiven. Richard had once said he hoped that would not always be so, and there would come a time when his brother the king would see George for what he was.

However, though my mother could not go to Isabel, we could talk about her, which we did at great length. I was secretly envious that I was not in like state, and I hoped that this time Isabel would be blessed with the boy for which she so fervently longed.

There was a further summons for Richard. The king wanted his presence in London. It was sad saying farewell to him, but he hoped he would not be long, and he assured me that he would be back at Middleham at the earliest possible moment.

The days passed pleasantly with my mother, and we had little Edward with us whenever possible. He was now beginning to take notice; he could crawl around and was learning to stand up. He smiled to show his pleasure to see us and I was gratified that the pleasure was clearly the greater for me. He was adorable.

Richard returned and with him, my son and my mother safely at Middleham, I was deeply content.

There was good news from Isabel. She had a boy another Edward. A compliment to the king, of course. Isabel wrote that the boy was strong and handsome and that Margaret was a beautiful child.

I rejoiced for Isabel and the talk at that time was almost always of babies, for my mother took great pleasure in recalling incidents from my and Isabel's childhood.

But it was inevitable that there should be another call for Richard. He was too important to be left entirely in the north when he had succeeded in bringing order there so that it was the least troublesome zone in the kingdom.

This time it was to London he must go. We said a reluctant goodbye and he went with the usual promise to return as soon as possible.

After he had ridden away, life went on as before and every day I watched for Richard's return.

It seemed long before he came and when he did I realised he had some weighty matter on his mind, and I could not restrain my impatience to hear what it was. He was a little secretive at first, but he soon realised that I should have to know.

The king is contemplating going to war with France." he told me.

"He suspects Louis of offering help to de Were and, as you know, George may have been concerned in this."

"If he goes to war that will mean... that I go with him. And, of course, George also."

"Surely he cannot trust George!"

"He cannot do anything else. George would hardly fight on the side of the French."

"He would if he were offered a big enough bribe."

"Suffice it that both George and I have promised to take one hundred and twenty men at arms and a thousand archers into the field with him. Edward has made Parliament give him large sums of money: he is going round the country getting what he calls benevolences from the people. He is doing very well. You know how popular he is. People can't resist him. With his good looks and graces, he is charming the money out of their pockets, and he will soon be able to equip himself in the necessary manner."

"And so ..." I said mournfully, "you will go to France with him."

"I must," said Richard.

"He is my brother and it is at the king's command."

"But why should he want to go to war? I thought he was eager for peace."

"He thinks this is the best way to get it. Louis is interfering and you know he is Edward's enemy because of his connections with Burgundy."

"I do not see why we should be concerned with the quarrels between Frenchmen. Why cannot France and Burgundy settle their own problems?"

"They are our problems too."

"I hate the thought of war."

"It may not come."

"But you say you promised to go and the king is collecting this money."

"Let us wait and see. But... I had to tell you."

"Yes. I would rather be prepared."

"Anne, there is something else I must tell you."

"Yes?"

"I love you, Anne. I have always loved you. You were always in my thoughts ... always."

"And you in mine, Richard," I replied.

"Those other things ... they were not important in the way you were. You must understand ... and it is for you now to say yes or no and, of course, I shall understand."

"What is it, Richard? It is unlike you not to come straight out with what you want to say."

"While I was in London I had news ..."

"News? What news?"

"You know of the children ... John and Katharine?"

"Yes." I said slowly.

"You did tell me."

"It is their mother. She is dead. And the children ... they are in the care of a family. They could, of course, stay there, but I was aghast. I said: "You want them to come here?" He looked at me almost pleadingly.

"It is for you to say." I was silent. I felt a slight tinge of anger. I wanted to shout: No! I will not have them here. I know it happened. It was before we were betrothed, and I was to marry the Prince of Wales. You had this mistress. She was dear to you. She must have been. There are two children and now she is dead you want them to come here ... to be brought up with Edward. I will not have it. He said: "I see that I have shocked you."

Still I did not speak. I was afraid of the words which I might say. I was on the point of shouting, no, I will not have them here ... a constant reminder. I will not have those children here with Edward.

He turned away very sadly.

"I do understand, of course," he said.

"I should not have thought of it. You must forget I suggested it."

Forget? How could I forget? He had spoilt his homecoming.

There was a rift between us. He had brought no good tidings with him. First he might be snatched away from me to go to war and secondly he wanted me to have his bastard children in my home.

My mother knew that something was wrong. I told her first about the possibility of war and then about the children.

She was very thoughtful. She said: "I can see how he feels. They are, after all, his children."

"But how could they come here?"

"They could, of course. But it depends on you." They would expect to be brought up with Edward." They are his half-brother and sister."

"My lady Mother, they are bastards."

"Tis no fault of theirs."

"You think they should come here?"

"It is for you to decide. Richard has suggested it, has he not? It would depend on how much you love him, of course."

"You know I love him."

"Not enough to give him this."

"It is because I love him so much that I cannot bear the thought of his having children who are not mine."

"It is a selfish love," said my mother.

"And the essence of love is not selfishness."

She left me then.

Why had this to happen? Why did that woman die and leave her children to be looked after? How old were they? The boy must be about two years older than Edward; the girl could be several years older. Richard's children!

He looked so melancholy that he reminded me of the young boy who was ashamed because he tired more easily than the others. I had been sorry for him then and that was when I began to love him.

Soon he would go to war. He would fight valiantly for his brother's cause. Who knew what would happen to him in the heat of the battle? My father had died at Barnet, the Prince of Wales at Tewkesbury, Richard's father at Wakefield. War was death and destruction. And Richard was going to war with a heavy heart because he was anxious about the future of his children.