Edward, hearing what had happened, declared that he held nothing against the House of Neville. He knew his one-time
friend and mentor Warwick cared deeply for the country and as Edward did too their aims were as one. When this unhappy matter was over the Nevilles should lose nothing. They should keep his respect as they always had.
He was moved to York which he entered in state as the King should and he set up residence at Pontefract Castle.
No sooner did the people see the King and Warwick together as friends than men began to flock to the royal banner in order to put down the Lancastrian revolt. They wanted no more civil war in the country. They had hoped the Wars of the Roses had come to an end when Edward seemed to be safe on the throne.
Warwick now saw that Edward could bring men to his banner as he, Warwick, could not. Edward had the hearts of the people. It was Edward the people wanted; and Warwick had learned that it was the people who finally settled who was to be their King.
The Londoners were clamouring for him. There was no help for it. Edward must be free to go to London to show the people that he was no one's prisoner and that Warwick had been right when he had said that his aim was to stand beside the King and bring him to safety.
With great rejoicing the King was united with the Queen. Warwick remained in the North with Clarence. He had learned a lesson. Just as he had turned defeat into victory at St Albans, so Edward had at Edgecot.
Well, had not Edward been his pupil?
There would be another time though, Warwick promised himself, and then he would be wiser.
It should not happen like this again.
Edward was in command of London but Warwick was in the North and with him was Clarence. It was a dangerous situation.
The country was divided and it was no use expecting the peace to last. Warwick had learned that he could not gather men to his banner; he might be the kingmaker but he was no king. Edward realized too that he must make peace with Warwick if he was going to bring the country to a settled state. At the moment it was uneasy and people were ready to rise at the least provocation; there were riots in various places. Moreover Warwick had Clarence with him and Clarence could be a claimant to the throne.
Edward understood Jacquetta's grief for the loss of her husband; he knew how she and Elizabeth must hate Warwick but Elizabeth never mentioned the Earl to him.
It was pleasant to escape into the peace of her company; she was there providing just what he wanted, and she did not intrude: she did not demand this and that. She was pleased he knew when he took honours from the Warwick faction and bestowed them on the Woodvilles. Her brother Anthony was close to him now. He had become Lord Rivers, having taken his dead father's title.
Edward sent invitations to Warwick and Clarence to come to the Council at Westminster. At first they were wary, demanding many guarantees of safe conduct; finally these were given and they came to London where Edward received them with affection.
There was no real quarrel between them, Edward assured them. 'Let us forget our grievances and go on as before.'
In Warwick Castle the Earl's daughters sat together talking quietly. Every now and then Anne glanced at her sister Isabel. Isabel was heavily pregnant; she looked ill and Anne was worried about her sister. So was the Countess their mother. Isabel had never been strong—nor had Anne for that matter; their health had been a constant cause of anxiety to their parents from their birth.
'I thank God,' the Countess had said to her daughter Anne, 'that Isabel will have her baby here at Warwick and I shall be here to look after her. We'll look after her together, Anne.'
Anne nodded. 'But she will be so happy, my lady, when her baby is born.'
'Ah yes, and so will the Duke. We'll hope for a boy. Your father has been so disappointed not to have a son.'
Anne put her arms about her mother's shoulders. 'I'm sorry, dear lady, that we were both girls.'
The Countess laughed. 'My dear child, / would not change either of you. But I did often wish that I could give your father the son he wanted. Alas, I shall never do that.'
Anne knew that at her difficult birth her father had been told that the Countess could not bear more children and she could
imagine what a great blow it must have been for such an ambitious man; but he was reconciled. When he was with them he was as near to happiness as he had ever been, Anne believed. Some might not. He was an adventurer, a leader by nature, a ruler of men. The King owed his crown to him. He had made Edward as surely as he had unmade Henry.
As Anne had said to Isabeclass="underline" 'It makes one uneasy to be the daughter of such a father. It is as though great things will be expected of us.'
'All that will be expected of us,' Isabel had replied, 'is to marry where we are bidden to. And when we are married to produce sons. . . .'
'Daughters too perhaps,' added Anne, 'for daughters have their uses.'
And they certainly had, for Isabel was soon after that married to the Duke of Clarence.
She had been a little frightened at first, but George Plantagenet had grown fond of her and she of him. It was easy to be fond of Isabel. She was pretty and very gentle and of course she had a vast fortune, or would have when her father died—a fortune she would share with Anne.
Anne remembered days which seemed so long ago now when she and Richard had ridden together through the woods or played guessing games in the schoolroom. Where was Richard now? she often wondered. There was a great deal of uneasiness throughout the country because her father and the King were in conflict, and all the time they were trying to pretend to each other and to the people that they were not. But they were, of course. She had heard such a lot of talk about the King's marriage and she knew how much her father hated it, hated the Woodvilles and was going to be revenged on them for taking all the important posts and marrying all the rich people so that they became more important in the country than he was.
It was a frightening situation, for Clarence was Isabel's husband and he was against his own brother and had whispered to Isabel that she might one day be a queen, for there was a scheme afoot to put him on the throne in place of his brother.
Anne was suddenly startled by the sound of galloping horses. Isabel looked up from her embroidering.
'Visitors?' she asked uneasily. They were always uneasy when visitors came to the castle nowadays, for they could never be
certain what news they would bring.
Anne rose and went to the window where she could see the party in the distance and that the standard-bearer carried the device of the bear and the ragged staff.
'It is someone from our father/ she said.
Isabel murmured: 'Dear God, I trust not bad news.'
Anne was silent. Then she said: 'It is our father . . . and sister, your husband is with him. I will go at once and find our mother.'
Anne hurried out of the room while Isabel rose and went to the window. The riders were now clattering into the courtyard. Isabel saw her young husband. He had leaped from his horse and a groom had run forward. She heard her father's voice shouhng orders.
The Countess was already in the courtyard with Anne. Warwick embraced first his wife and then his daughter.
Anne knew by the set expression of his face that something was wrong. He said: 'Let us go in. I have much to say and there is little time.'
Ominous words, she thought. Something fresh had happened. How she wished there did not have to be this trouble. It seemed so wrong that there should be a quarrel between her father and the King. They had always been such good friends. And Isabel's husband was actually the King's brother which made it all most unnatural.