Virgin Widow (35 page)

Richard went north to Middleham. How I wished
that I too could be at Middleham. Cold and grey at this time of year with rain squalls and biting winds, it could be drear and dismal beyond bearing. I would have given anything to be there with him.

I
N
the end, I lost my nerve. Because I was alone, without counsel, without anyone I could trust. Was it weakness of spirit? If I had had a confidante I think I should have held firm, but I could not even unburden myself to Margery. She was kind and loving, but she was in Isabel’s employ so where would her ultimate loyalties lie? I did not distrust her, but I could not tell her of my deepest fears. And I was so weary of guarding myself with Isabel and Clarence, watching every word I uttered. Isabel stuck to my side like an apothecary’s leech.

I was alone. I did not appreciate until that moment how very lonely I was.

And so I panicked.

Isabel began to talk of an immediate return to Warwick. It seemed an agreeable scheme that raised no suspicions, until she mooted the plan to divert to Tewkesbury on the way. Would that not be the most suitable place to endow a convent, the magnificent Abbey already extended and embellished with Beauchamp-Despenser
money? What better place to establish a convent for daughters and widows of wealthy families who chose to serve God before the lure of the flesh?

In an instant recognition I saw myself enclosed there. By the time Richard retuned from the north I could find myself spirited away and enclosed behind the Abbey doors at Tewkesbury, condemned to holy captivity even if I had not agreed to any vows. Neither Richard nor the King would be able to rescue me.

I would be locked away until the day of my death.

Panic flared. My nerve broke. Risking interception, I wrote. The letter took no writing. There was little I needed to say to make my fears known and I took no care over the content.

To the Duke of Gloucester

Circumstances have changed. We are to return to Warwick before the end of the month. I fear that my own destination is to be Tewkesbury where I shall be kept close in sanctuary, much as my mother is at Beaulieu, until I can take the veil. I think I can expect no overt help from the King so I must look to you for rescue.

I beg that you will come and remove me from this house.

I fear you may be too late.

Your faithful cousin,

Anne Neville

Who to take it for me? I dare trust no one of Clarence’s. I had to take the risk.

‘Margery…do you have any acquaintance in London, any family?’

‘A cousin. A glovemaker in Cheapside. He’s married with a growing family.’

‘Anyone of an age who would take a letter for me with all speed?’

‘Why?’ Her casual interest deepened. ‘Where do you need to send a letter, lady?’

‘It doesn’t matter where. But I am in need.’

‘I don’t see—’

I grabbed her arm. ‘Do you wish to see me become a nun, Margery?’

There were no more questions from her—that made me believe my fears were truly justified. The letter was sent. All I had to do was wait and restrain myself from hurling accusations of treachery along with a mug of ale at Isabel’s head.

Disaster struck, prompted by the King’s own hand, although even he, with his intimate knowledge of Clarence’s capacity for deception, could not have foreseen the outcome. The whole affair was so cunningly managed, outrageously clever but, above all, and willingly connived at by my own sister, coldly vindictive.

We heard the peremptory strike of hooves on
cobbles as Clarence galloped his horse into the courtyard at Cold Harbour, and the firm slap of his boots as he strode up the steps, until he burst through the door of the parlour where Isabel and I passed an hour over a game of chess. Short of breath, his chest heaved. His face was drawn with anger, his eyes blazed with it.

‘Out!’ he snarled at Margery and Isabel’s ladies. They scurried to obey.

My blood froze in apprehension. With the passing of days I had begun to dream that Richard would arrive at our door in time to rescue me. Breathing shallowly, I waited to hear what had caused this outburst. Clarence rounded on me before the door had barely closed.

‘What trickery is this, madam?’

‘I know of no trickery.’ I rose carefully to my feet, abandoning an attack on Isabel’s Queen with my bishop. I would not answer such an accusation sitting down, but my legs were weak with fear.

‘My lord?’ Isabel came quickly to Clarence’s side, to touch his arm in what I considered ingratiating concern, but he shook her off and advanced on me, fists clenched. I stood my ground, even though I knew he would like nothing better than to strike me, to vent his anger, but his control was better than that.

‘Your sister is not as innocent as she looks.’ His words for Isabel, the smile that touched his fine
features thin, feral. ‘That sweetly compliant exterior, so much out of character as you yourself have remarked. Sweet words, gentle acceptance. Yes, Isabel. No, Isabel. Any bloody suggestion you make, Isabel! She fooled us well and truly. She has not changed at all! Behind our back she had been following her own plans, aided and abetted by my brother.’

‘Helped by the King?’ Isabel’s expression was one of disbelief.

‘Gloucester! Who else!’ Clarence did not take his eyes from me as he circled me. I could feel them as they bored into my very soul with the well-honed sharpness of a dagger. ‘I am informed, this very morning, by Edward himself that there is an agreement already made—that your sister will wed Gloucester.’ Now he was facing me again. ‘I won’t ask you if it is true. I know it is.’

I refused to confirm it with magnificent hauteur.

‘And, Edward also informs me…’ now his tone was silky smooth ‘…there is already an agent in Rome with the ear of the Pope, seeking a dispensation.’

‘What of it? It is my right to make such an agreement.’ I must brazen it out, even though I had only agreed to consider the offer. I kept my eyes on those furious blue ones, horrified by the hot revulsion I saw there. How had he kept it hidden for so long, pretending to be my caring brother whose sole aim was to smooth my future path? He would have me clapped in a nunnery within the hour if he could.

‘Gloucester is on his way back to London,’ he continued. ‘I expect you know that already. And when he gets here, his intention is to take you from my house. And the King orders me—orders me!—to hand you over into his keeping.’ He spat out the final words.

So Richard had sent ahead to warn Edward of our planned journey. And Edward, in his attempt to prevent my abduction to Tewkesbury, had instead cast the spark to light this conflagration. God’s Blood! I cursed silently. How could Edward not have seen the repercussions? How could he trust Clarence so blindly with my safety? But I allowed none of my terror surface.

‘I will go with Richard when he comes for me,’ I replied calmly despite the galloping thud of my heart.

‘You will not, Madam Anne!’ Clarence snarled in my ear as he circled me again. ‘As I informed the King,
I
am your legal guardian. You were put in my charge, and that of your sister, by Edward himself. You will do as I say. Any Court in the land will uphold my legal rights over you.
I
will make the arrangements for you, not Gloucester! The last thing I will allow is for you to marry him, however compliant Edward might be.’

‘You have no such legal jurisdiction over me or my actions.’ Still I held tight to my courage. ‘I am of age and as a widow have every right to determine my own future. I can give myself in marriage where and when I will. I will wed your brother if I so wish. He has asked me, in the King’s presence, who saw no objection.
What right have you to question it? You cannot stand in my way.’

‘The King…? Ah! Of course!’ Clarence fisted his hands again as the realisation struck. ‘So that was the reason for the play acting—the neat little charade of the attack by the drunken louts from the Golden Lion. I suppose Gloucester arranged it, for you to return to Court. And I suppose my own abortive discussion over some damned penny-pinching aspect of Burgundian trade was part of the whole. I should have known if Francis Lovell was involved—he and Gloucester were always thick as thieves.’

I remained silent, but did not bend one inch.

‘What do we do now?’ Isabel chewed at her lips nervously.

‘Whatever Edward agreed, she’ll not become Gloucester’s wife.’

‘So what will I do?’ I could not longer hide the disdain. ‘Take the veil?’

‘Exactly! You’ll go to Tewkesbury, for your own good.’

‘No. For yours, not mine. I know what you intend,
brother
! Did you think I was ignorant of your deception? You would disinherit me, rob me of my rights.’ I turned to face my sister as my sense of ill usage blossomed into fury as strong as Clarence’s. ‘How could you do this, Isabel? How could you pretend to be my concerned sister, to have my best interests in your heart, how could you smile and talk of meaningless
nothings and all the time be in league with him against me? Does blood mean nothing to you? Does family loyalty mean nothing? I have to accept that money and power mean more to you than family ties.’

White as the costly lace at her neck, Isabel sought helplessly for a reply. Her eyes dropped before mine. The influence had been her husband’s, but still I could not forgive her.

‘I know why you would send me to a convent. All that talk of following in the tradition of our ancestors, dispensing patronage for those who wish to become brides of Christ. By the Virgin! Did you think to fool me? Any convent would do, anywhere so that Richard can’t marry me.’ I renewed my attack on Clarence. ‘Because he is the only man in the land who can challenge you, a royal duke, and hope to be heard and listened to. I’m amazed that you did not wed me to some poor cipher of a husband who could not stand for me against a mouse! But Richard would stand for me. And he will, when he comes to claim me, and your plans will be as ashes beneath your feet.’

‘Gloucester’s no knight in shining armour. He wants your inheritance as much as I.’

‘But he would give me the status of his wife. Not rob me of everything I have and imprison me in a nun’s cell for the rest of my days!’

For the first time I saw the slightest flicker of fear
in Clarence’s face, beneath the anger, but he would not retreat. It spurred him on into sheer madness.

‘I shall win. You’ll not defeat me in this and nor will Gloucester. Do you think I am unaware of my own worth to the King? Edward will never decide against me. He dare not make me an enemy.’ He advanced, driven by enormous energies, to stand a mere arm’s length before me, to cow me into submission as he continued his attack. ‘Once I had hopes of a crown, until your father rejected me, forcing me to bow and scrape and accept it with the empty promise of some distant throne if the Lancastrian line came to an end. Do you know what it took for my pride to accept that? It made me sick to my stomach, but I had to stand there and acknowledge Edward of Lancaster as my sovereign lord. No wonder I turned my coat and came to terms with Edward. But he now has a son to rule after him. Do I not deserve recompense for that? I deserve recognition for the victory I brought to Edward at Barnet when I gave my troops to the King’s use.’ His voice rose on every statement until he all but shouted. ‘What better than to take
all
the Neville inheritance for my own.’

‘You’ll not get it!’ It pleased me to say it, to see his disgust.

‘No. I know full well. Gloucester has the northern Neville lands, with Edward’s blessing. But that will not stop me taking
yours,
dear sister.
I
will be the heir to
the Countess of Warwick’s lands and titles. All of them. And only me.’

‘Is that justice?’ It was no more than I already knew.

‘Don’t talk about justice, Princess.’ I felt his hatred like a slap to the face. ‘Who would blame me for taking the property of the woman who wed the Lancastrian heir? Which loyal Yorkist magnate in England would listen to your demands when you would have worn the crown at the side of your Lancastrian husband?’

The argument was not new to me. I was forced to accept the truth of it, but I held on and snapped my defiance at him. ‘I will go with Richard when he comes for me. Then we shall see who will listen to my demands for justice when his voice is raised on my behalf.’

‘No, you will not.’ Suddenly Clarence’s stance had softened, as had his voice. His smile held an uncomfortable humour as if he enjoyed a joke at my expense. It made me shiver as his rage and blustering had not. What was he planning for me?

‘Will you bar the door? Refuse Richard entry with swords and longbows? Cannon even?’ I asked in as neutral a tone as I could manage.

‘Nothing so obvious. I shall entertain my brother right well.’ His smile broadened so that I saw once again the handsome man who had captivated Isabel and even now held her in thrall. ‘He will simply not find you here when he comes.’

‘Then do we go to Warwick now, immediately?’ Isabel asked.

I had sudden visions of us fleeing across the country, hell for leather, with Richard in hot pursuit.

‘No, my dear. No time for that. He would overtake us, I have no doubt. I have no wish for a confrontation on the open road. I have a far better plan.’

I could not guess. I hid my shaking knees and waited. Who could have guessed that Edward’s efforts to pre-empt Richard’s return and save me had cast me into even greater danger.

I was escorted to my room by my stiff-backed sister. Although I sensed from the set of her shoulders that she was not entirely at ease with this, whatever it was, equally I knew she would not defy Clarence. Always she had believed the best of him, however uncaring his treatment of her. If she could follow him from York to Lancaster and back again without a qualm, she would not disobey him now.

Still I tried. ‘Isabel!’ I quickened my step, trying to pull her to a halt, to listen to me. ‘Wait! You can’t let him do this!’

But she shook me off, standing back to all but push me into my bedchamber and I saw that she had a key in her hand. Would I then be locked in here? But it could not be for ever, I assured myself as I stalked past her. Only until Richard’s threatened visit was past, or
until Clarence could arrange my removal to Warwick or Tewkesbury without any risk of my being discovered. Once I was allowed out of Cold Harbour again, there would surely be some opportunity for flight. This was not like Angers—there would be someone who would come to my aid.