The Kingmaker's Daughter Read online

  ‘You have no rights over me, Isabel!’

  ‘I am your guardian’s wife,’ she says. ‘And he will lock you in your room if I tell him you are slandering us. You lost at Tewkesbury, Anne, you were on the wrong side and your husband is dead. You will have to get used to being defeated.’

  There are always people coming and going through the great hall of L’Erber. The duke orders that the gates to the street are open during the day, that there are braziers burning before the doors at night. I go to the hall and look for a lad, any sort of lad – not a beggar and not a thief, but a lad that might run an errand for a groat. There are dozens of them, come to work for the day, mucking out the stables or carting away the ash, bringing little things from the market to sell to the maids of the wardrobe. I crook my finger at one of them, a tow-headed urchin with a leather jerkin, and wait for him to come to me and bow.

  ‘D’you know the Palace of Westminster?’

  ‘’Course I do.’

  ‘Take this, and give it to someone in the household of the Duke of Gloucester. Tell them to give it to the duke. Can you remember that?’

  ‘’Course I can.’

  ‘And don’t give it to anyone else, and don’t say anything about it.’

  I give him a twist of paper. Inside I have written:

  I should like to see you, A

  ‘If you get it to the duke himself he will give you a second groat,’ I say and give him the coin. He takes it, nips it with his black tooth to check that it is good, and puts his knuckle to his forehead by way of a bow.

  ‘Is it a love letter?’ he asks impertinently.

  ‘It’s a secret,’ I say. ‘You shall have a groat from him if you will keep the secret.’

  Then I have to wait.

  Isabel makes an effort to be kind to me. She allows me to dine in the hall with her ladies and she sits me at her right-hand side. She calls me ‘Sister’ and one day she takes me to her wardrobe room and says that I must have my pick of her clothes. She is tired of seeing me in blue all the time.

  She puts her arm around my shoulders. ‘And you shall come to court with us,’ she says. ‘When your year of mourning is finished. And this summer we can go travelling with the court, and perhaps we can go to Warwick. It would be lovely to be home again, wouldn’t it? You would like that? We might go to Middleham, and Barnard Castle. You will like to go to our old homes.’

  I say nothing.

  ‘We are sisters,’ she says. ‘I don’t forget it. Anne, don’t be so hard on me, don’t be so hard on yourself. We have lost so much but we are still sisters. Let’s be friends again. I want to live in sisterhood with you.’

  I don’t know how Richard will come to me, but I trust that he will come. As the days go on I start to think what I will do if he does not come. I think I am trapped.

  In the cold dark days of February I hardly leave the house at all. George goes almost every day to the Palace of Westminster or out into the city. Sometimes men come to see him who enter by a side door and go straight to his room, as if they were meeting in secret. He maintains a great outward show as grand as a king. I wonder if he is planning to create a court to rival his brother’s, if he hopes to amass such great lands and such a great affinity that he can set himself up as a prince in England. Isabel is always at his side, exquisitely dressed, as gracious as a queen. She goes with him when there are feasts or parties at Westminster, or when she is bidden to dine with the queen and her ladies. But I am neither invited nor allowed to go.

  One day they are ordered to a special royal dinner. Isabel dresses in a blaze of emeralds, a green gown, a green veil and a belt of gold set with green emeralds. I help her dress, lacing the green ribbons with the gold points through the holes of her sleeves, and I know my face is sulky in her candlelit looking glass. All her ladies are buzzing with the visit to Westminster Palace; only I am to be left at L’Erber alone.

  I watch from my bedroom window as they mount their horses in the yard before the great doors. Isabel has a white horse and a new saddle of green leather with green velvet trappings. George beside her is bareheaded, his blond hair shining in the sunlight as golden as a crown. He smiles and waves at the people who gather either side of the gate to shout their blessings. It is like a royal progress, and Isabel amid it all is like the queen that our father promised she would be. I step back from the narrow window to the deserted rooms. A manservant comes in behind me with a basket of wood. ‘Shall I build up the fire, Lady Anne?’

  ‘Leave it,’ I say over my shoulder. They are through the gate and going at a jingling trot down Elbow Lane, the winter sun bright on George’s pennants. He nods from left to right, raising his gloved hand in response to a cheer.

  ‘But the fire’s going down,’ the man says. ‘I’ll put some wood on for you.’

  ‘Just leave it,’ I say impatiently. I turn around from the window and for the first time I see him. He has pulled off his hat and dropped the fustian cloak which was hiding his rich jacket and beautiful linen, his riding breeches and soft leather boots. It is Richard, smiling at my surprise.

  I run to him, without thinking what I am doing. I run to the first friendly face that I have seen since Christmas, and in a moment I am in his arms and he is holding me tightly and kissing my face, my closed eyes, my smiling mouth, kissing me till I am breathless and have to pull away from him. ‘Richard! Oh, Richard!’

  ‘I have come to take you.’

  ‘Take me?’

  ‘Rescue you. They will keep you more and more close until they get your mother’s fortune and then they will put you in a nunnery.’

  ‘I knew it! He says he is my guardian, and will give me my share of the fortune when I am married; but I don’t believe him.’

  ‘They will never let you be married. Edward has put you in George’s keeping, they will hold you forever. You will have to run away if you want to get out of this.’

  ‘I’ll go,’ I say with sudden decision. ‘I’m ready to go.’

  He hesitates as if he doubts me. ‘Just like that?’

  ‘I’m not the little girl that you knew,’ I say. ‘I’ve grown up. Margaret of Anjou taught me not to hesitate, that there would be times when I have to see the best thing for myself and take that course without fear, without considering others. I have lost my father – there is no-one who can command me. I certainly won’t be commanded by Isabel and George.’

  ‘Good,’ he says. ‘I’ll take you into sanctuary – it’s the only thing we can do.’

  ‘Will I be safe there?’ I go into my little bedroom, just off the presence chamber, and he follows me without embarrassment and stands in the doorway, as I open my box and take out my jewellery case.

  ‘They won’t break sanctuary in London. I have a place for you at the college of St Martin’s le Grand. They will keep you safe there.’ He takes the box from my hands. ‘Anything else?’

  ‘My winter cloak,’ I say. ‘And I’ll wear my riding boots.’

  I sit on the bed and kick off my shoes, and he kneels before me and takes the riding boots, holding one open for my bare foot. I hesitate; it is such an intimate gesture between a young woman and a man. His smiling upward glance tells me that he understands my hesitation but is ignoring it. I point my toe and he holds the boot, I slide my foot in and he pulls the boot over my calf. He takes the soft leather ties and fastens the boot, at my ankle, then at my calf, and then just below my knee. He looks up at me, his hand gently on my toe. I can feel the warmth of his hand through the soft leather. I imagine my toes curling in pleasure at his touch.

  ‘Anne, will you marry me?’ he asks simply, as he kneels before me.

  ‘Marry you?’

  He nods. ‘I will take you to sanctuary and then find a priest. We can marry in secret. Then I can care for you and protect you. You will be my wife and Edward will welcome you as his sister-in-law. Edward will grant your share of your mother’s inheritance when you are in my keeping. He won’t refuse my wife.’

  He hold