The Sun in Splendour

Soon after that her father went away and she with her mother and sister was left at Amboise, there to stay until she was sent for.

It seemed a long time that they were there. Perhaps that was because after the King and the Earl had left there was a quietness about the days, and they might have been at home at Warwick or Middleham; Isabel was still recuperating from her confinement and was often pale and listless.

Once she said to Anne: 'We are only daughters, and the purpose of a daughter is to make a marriage which will be advantageous to her family.'

'Did you not love George then?'

Isabel was thoughtful. 'Yes, I love George in a way. . . . But you know why he married me. It was to spite his brother and because that was our father's price for helping him to the throne. That is what George wants, you know. He has always wanted it.'

Anne knew it was true.

'Isabel,' she said, 'we are very rich, or when our father dies we shall be. We both shall have a great fortune to bring to our husbands. Perhaps it would have been better if we had been the daughters of a poor man.'

'Then we could not have had part, could we, in this battle for a throne,' agreed Isabel.

'Poor Isabel!'

'If my baby had lived I should have thought it worth while.'

'I daresay you will have more. That is what we are for is it not? To have babies . . . preferably sons. . . and to bring wealth to our husbands.'

'Dear Anne, you are becoming cynical. I always thought you were meant for Richard.'

'Yes, I thought so too.'

'And you would have been but for this quarrel. Our father married me to one of the King's brothers, but of course the King did not want the marriage.'

'He has always had to do what our father wished.'

'Even now. . . .'

'Even now there is this trouble because he turned from our father to the Woodvilles. I wonder what will be the outcome of it.'

They did not speak for some time. They were both wondering about the future.

Messengers came back and forth from the castle, for the Earl kept his Countess informed of those matters over which he thought he should need her help. That was why he left it to her to break the news to Anne.

The Earl loved his daughters. He would expect them to obey him, of course, and do everything they could to forward the interests of the House of Warwick, but he wanted to make it as easy for them as possible.

He did not want his gentle daughter Anne presented with a prospect to which he believed she would need a little time to adjust herself. So he asked the Countess to give her an inkling of what was in store for her.

The Countess herself read her husband's letter several times wondering whether she had read correctly, for what he wrote astounded her. But finally she saw the reasoning behind his actions and realized that it was exactly what she should have expected him to do. If he could not impose his will in one way he would in another. She should have been accustomed to such surprises by now.

Poor Anne, she thought. What will she think of this? But Richard was right to want her to be prepared.

She sent for her daughter.

Anne came apprehensively, certain that she was going to be made the victim of some match which would be necessary to her father's schemes. So she was half prepared.

Her mother after kissing her tenderly bade her be seated.

'You know your father has been away some time. He and the King have been to Angers where they have visited the Queen.'

'The Queen. 1 thought. . . .'

'No, no child, not the Queen of France. The Queen of England.'

'Queen Elizabeth is in England, I thought.'

The Countess realized she was being deliberately obtuse to give herself time. She decided to come straight to the point. 'No, my dear, I mean Queen Margaret, who has been in exile here in France for so long.'

'My father . . . visiting Margaret of Anjou! She will not receive him surely?'

'She was reluctant to. But you know your father. He is the most persistent man in the world. Now he has succeeded in making an agreement with her and you are to marry her son, the Prince of Wales.'

Anne stared at her mother in amazement.

'Yes,' went on the Countess, 'I know it is hard to believe but it is true. Your father is determined to drive Edward from the throne and put Henry back on it. My child, do you realize what this means? If he succeeds, and your father always succeeds, you will be Queen of England . . . when Henry dies and his son comes to the throne.'

'I see,' said Anne, 'that my father is determined to have both his daughters contenders for the throne.'

They regarded each other a little sadly. Both had been used to further Richard Neville's greatness. He had been the son of the Earl of Salisbury but without great prospects until he married the Earl of Warwick's daughter and through her acquired the great title of Warwick and the vast estates that went with it. The Countess had served her husband well. Now it was Anne's turn.

'Your father did not wish you to be hurried. ... He wanted you to have time ... to get used to the idea of marriage.'

'But I shall be married to this Prince all the same.'

'My dear child, your father has made up his mind. The King of France agrees that it is an ideal match and at last they have persuaded Margaret of Anjou that it is the only way to regain her throne.'

'She has surely never agreed to ally herself with my father. They have been the greatest enemies.'

'She sees this as a way back to the throne. Oh Anne, my dear daughter, if it comes to pass, if we could go home . . . if we could be happy again . . .'

'Happy. Do you think we shall be happy? First my father has to fight. Do you think Edward will stand by and calmly let him put Henry on the throne? Will Richard . . . ?'

'Your father makes and unmakes kings. Edward would never

have been on the throne but for him. He will put Henry back, you will see.'

'But Henry is little more than an imbecile.'

'He is the anointed king.'

'So is Edward.'

'But your father has decided that Edward must go.'

'And Edward will no doubt decide he will stay.'

'My dear, we know nothing of these matters. You must prepare yourself to be married to the Prince of Wales.'

'To a man I have been brought up to believe was our enemy, the son of a mad king and a mother who is. . . .'

'Hush child. You must not say such things. They are our friends now.'

'Shall we ever be allowed to choose our own friends, 1 wonder.'

'Come now. This will be a brilliant marriage for you. A Prince! Why most girls would be overcome with joy. It is your father's plan that you shall one day be Queen of England.'

'Isabel was promised that.'

'Your father no longer trusts Clarence. Besides Henry is the true King and his son is naturally the heir. Your father is of the opinion that the people will welcome his return and that will be the end of Edward.'

'Edward has many friends.' She was thinking again of Richard: his fervent adoration of his brother, his intense and burning loyalty.

Oh Richard, she thought, we shall be on different sides.

'Your father thinks that Henry has always had the affection of the people.'

'So has Edward.'

'You are talking of matters of which you know very little, my dear. Your task is to make yourself charming so that the Prince is pleased to make you his wife. Now you may go. You should start preparing yourself at once for we shall be leaving for Angers in a few days' rime.' She looked at her daughter sadly.