By Loyalty Bound: The Story of the Mistress of King Richard III (6 page)

“There is nothing to forgive. I would not want you to come to my bed unwillingly.”

He reached up and pushed a strand of her uncovered hair behind her ear then slid his hand around the back of her neck to pull her towards him. She closed her eyes as he drew her down until his soft lips touched hers. “Go now,” he said firmly as he took his hands away from her. “Go to your own chamber before my desire for you overwhelms me.”

She hesitated for a moment then stood up and walked slowly to the door. She paused for one last look at him as he sat on the edge of the bed watching her before she opened it and slipped through, regretting that she had been so reluctant and fearful that he had sent her away.

Robert watched his niece as she ate breakfast. He thought that James had been too eager to sacrifice her virginity. The duke had already decided to take them both into his household and sought no reward other than their loyalty to him and the king. He would see them fed and armed and horsed whilst they were in his employment and if they were indeed to lose Hornby and its lands it would be some recompense. He fingered the white boar badge with its sharp tusks. It would please him to serve Richard, Duke of Gloucester.

“I have the promise of almost fifty men from Hornby and Melling,” James was saying. “They refused to turn out for Stanley saying that they did not recognise him as their lord whilst I still held the castle, but they will ride under my banner and will be ready to leave by the morrow.”

“I’m pleased to hear it,” said the duke. “It matters not to which lord each man owes his allegiance as long as he is willing to support the king. We must put aside our differences and fight together for this just cause; even if that means you must fight alongside the Stanleys,” he warned them. “There will be time to pursue your quarrel when we have dealt with Warwick.”

“Yes, my lord,” agreed Robert and watched his brother’s non-committal nod. He knew that James would do the right thing despite his hatred of Stanley. If they lost the support of the duke then keeping Hornby would be impossible. And for himself, the sooner this latest threat was dealt with the sooner his marriage could go ahead. The thoughts of Anne and the duke had made him long to take Isabella to his own bed and he hoped that she would stay faithful to him now that it seemed as if their marriage would be put off at least until the autumn.

Anne was avoiding Izzie so that she wouldn’t have to explain why she had been absent from their bed. And she was also avoiding her uncle as she feared that he might question her and she would be revealed as a fraud.

She had lurked in the kitchen with its roaring fires where a deer was being turned on a spit by a bored boy wearing only his braies. But the heat had made her feel that she would melt and she had gone out into the bailey and listened to the banter of the grooms as they brushed the horses. Now she was shivering in the dairy, watching a fresh batch of cheese being stirred and skimmed.

Soon he would be gone, she thought. He would go to war, and men were killed when they fought. What if he died and she never had another chance to be with him?

She found him by the river, at the bottom of the Steep. He was staring moodily at the fast flowing water as it skirted the castle. He looked up, sensing her approach and half-smiled at her.

“When do you leave?” she asked him.

“Tomorrow at first light,” he said as he tossed a smooth pebble in the palm of his hand.

“Will Lord Stanley fight for the king?”

“I would hope so,” he said as he threw the stone. It bounced twice on the surface of the water before disappearing.

“But he will come again, won’t he?” she asked. “When this rebellion is put down he will come again. He will not be satisfied until he has taken possession of Hornby, and of me.”

The duke looked at her for a long moment. “Yes,” he agreed. “He will come again, and although I made a promise to you that I would try to keep you from his control I fear it is a promise I may find difficult to keep. I’m sorry.”

“I did not mean to seem so reluctant last night,” she said, her eyes on the place where the stone had submerged. “I was willing... I am willing.” She was afraid that he would say no, and perhaps even more afraid that he would say yes. After a moment of silence she looked at him and he held her gaze.

“Are you certain?” he asked.

“Yes. I am certain.”

She followed him up the grassy slope towards the castle. Their arms touched as he opened the outer door for her and as the servants glanced up from their chores Anne was sure that every one of them could see what they intended to do. He preceded her up the winding stone steps and she followed, her skirts clasped in her hands. He pushed open the door and stood aside for her to go in, leaving the ultimate decision to her. Without hesitation she stepped inside and turned to watch as he closed and barred the door behind them.

“I will be gentle,” he promised her. “You do not need to be afraid of me.”

With a strong arm around her waist he pulled her body against his. Hesitantly, she rested her hands on his shoulders then allowed her inquisitive fingers to touch his hair. It felt soft and silky. He was warm and hard and her senses filled with the taste and masculine smell of him as he kissed her. Then his thighs began to press against hers forcing her to step backwards until she felt the hard frame of the bed against the backs of her legs. The red hangings had been tied back and the covers neatly straightened. The fur coverlet was smooth beneath her palms as he pushed her down until she was lying on its sumptuousness. She stroked the fur and then reached up to touch his cheek, which felt rough by comparison.

“Do you know what to expect?” he asked.

“Yes,” she told him. “I think so.” As he looked down at her she saw tenderness and she knew that she could trust him. “And I would rather learn about this mystery with you than some son of the Stanleys,” she added.

Anne and Izzie were allowed to watch from the small chamber above the guardhouse as the army gathered in the market place. There was a palpable sense of excitement and even though men said that they did not want another battle there was a joviality that reminded Anne of a feast day, except that today they were drunk on anticipation rather than cheap ale. The horses, attuned to the atmosphere, chomped at their bits and pawed the ground as their riders lined up. Then finally, with a shout of command from the Duke of Gloucester, they moved off, the morning sun reflecting from their well-polished armour and the interlocking black and white stripes of the Harrington banner.

As they went Anne bit at her bottom lip. She was determined not to cry in front of her sister. She had cut short Izzie’s curious questions and, as they normally shared everything, the exclusion was making her angry. But this was something that Anne could not speak of. The things that Richard had done to her had been strange and unexpected and whenever she thought of them she found herself flushing with embarrassment. Yet when they had been together such things had seemed natural and she had enjoyed them and was bereft that he was leaving and that she might never have the chance to experience them with him again.

Izzie pushed past her without a word and went down the steps. Anne followed, but by the time she reached the bottom Izzie was nowhere to be seen. Hoping that her sister would not sulk for too long Anne walked back up the incline to the keep.

The castle was quiet and cool when she went inside. Not wanting to talk to anyone but to be alone with her thoughts Anne climbed up to the bedchamber, which had been Richard’s. She closed the door and sat down on the edge of the huge bed. The linen had been stripped from the mattresses and taken away to be laundered, but the soft fur coverlet remained and she lay down on it, trying to recreate his physical presence in her imagination.

Gradually she became aware of her name being called over and over again by one of her aunt’s women. “Lady Anne! Lady Anne!”

She jumped up guiltily and pulled the dark brown fur straight before lifting the latch on the door and slipping out. As she descended the twisting stairs the urgency of the calls increased and other voices were added. Anne began to hurry, even though the steps were narrow and she was afraid of falling. She was beset by thoughts of her uncles and Richard having come to some harm.

“There you are!” exclaimed her aunt as she entered the hall. She waved a letter in her hand and clutched Anne’s arm so tightly that she could feel her sharp fingernails through the fabric of her gown. “Your sister has been taken by the Stanleys and they are threatening to attack us if we don’t release you as well.”

Anne stared at her aunt’s anguished face. How could the Stanleys have taken her sister? Wasn’t Izzie in the castle? And hadn’t the Stanley army ridden to support the king? Her thoughts whirled in confusion. But what if Lord Stanley hadn’t ridden to support the king after all? What if he had decided to take the opportunity to snatch her sister and herself from an under-guarded Hornby? Fear pulsed through Anne. Her uncle had left only a small force to guard the castle in his absence as he had judged any threat to be negligible – and the men left behind were those bent with old age or injured in battle like Cedric, her uncle’s steward, who had just come in through the open doorway. His one good hand grasped a youth whom she recognised and as he pushed the boy forward the curtain of blond hair fell back from his face and Anne saw that his cheek was red and swollen.

Cedric briefly shook his head. “The lady Elizabeth is not in the castle. We have searched everywhere. But this boy says he witnessed what happened. Tell Lady Harrington what you saw!” he instructed the boy, giving him a dig between the shoulder blades.

“Please, my lady, this man came,” said the boy, overawed to be the centre of so much attention. “He were a big man on a big ’orse. He had a beard. We were only talkin’, m’lady!” he said without looking up. “We were just talkin’ and he came up. He got off th’orse and he took hold of Lady Elizabeth. She screamed, and he put ’is hand over her mouth and he dragged her off backwards. I tried to pull her away from ‘im but he hit me and knocked me to the ground.” The boy glanced up then with wide eyes and Anne remembered that she had seen him in the bailey working at the blacksmith’s forge. She also recalled seeing her sister standing watching him on more than one occasion.

“You must take men to find the lady Elizabeth and bring her back,” Aunt Joan told Cedric.

“I cannot leave the castle, my lady,” he reasoned. “My lord instructed me to stay within the walls and guard you. There may be dozens of men, or more, surrounding the castle. And if we venture outside the gates and are killed then Hornby will be completely undefended. Besides, we are no longer fighting men,” he added, raising the stump of his right arm.

“I heard them say they were bringing a cannon,” ventured the boy into the stunned silence.

“A cannon!” Her aunt looked to where the nurse was playing with William and Peggy. “They will kill us. They will kill us all!” she burst out in anguish. “They will kill my babies!” She turned back to Anne. “You must go with them,” she told her. “It is the only thing that will save us.”

Panic struck Anne like a physical blow and she began to gasp for breath as her heart raced.

“My lady. Is that wise?” asked Cedric.

“What choice is there?” demanded Aunt Joan, her voice rising with hysteria. “They will not harm the girl. And when the king returns the castle to us, they will let her and Elizabeth go. But if I defy them and they attack us we cannot defend ourselves. No,” she continued as if convincing herself as she spoke. “Anne must go with them as they demand.”

Both baby William and Peggy, sensing their mother’s anguish, had begun to cry and their wails filled the hall to its high wooden beams as the nurse tried to comfort first one and then the other. Anne said nothing. The prospect of being handed over to the Stanleys terrified her, yet she couldn’t bear the thought of her sister being taken away by them alone. She felt helpless, as she had done so many times in the past when she knew that nothing she could say would make any difference. Her aunt was adamant. “Go and pack some belongings,” she told her. “I am sure it will not be for long.”

Anne continued to stare at her without saying a word, but all she could see in her mind’s eye was Izzie – afraid and weeping for her to come. And after what seemed an eternity she roused herself enough to give her aunt a curtsey.

“Yes, my lady,” she managed to whisper in a voice that seemed to come from someone else and, feeling as if she was walking in a dream, she went up to the bedchamber. She touched the cold stone of the wall as she climbed, wondering if this was just another of the nightmares that plagued her. But the wall felt rough and solid and she realised that the dream had become reality. The thing she feared above all others had come about.

Rather than waiting for a servant to help her Anne began to gather some clothing, packing no more than she was able to carry. She hoped that her aunt was right and that she would not be gone for long. She was sure that as soon as her uncles received word of what had happened they would come to find her. They had an army and they were not afraid to fight. She crossed to Izzie’s coffer and found some of her linen and her comb. She packed them with her own things and after pulling her cloak around her shoulders she took a last look around the bedchamber before going to face her future.

Her aunt kissed her briefly on the cheek and told her not to worry and to be brave and then instructed Cedric to escort her to the gate. The steward took her pack in his good hand and walked beside her in silence down to the gatehouse. The huge iron bolt squeaked as it was drawn back on the small door and with a sympathetic nod Cedric handed the pack to her and waited for her to step through.

Fighting the impulse to run back to the safety of the castle, Anne took a trembling breath and stepped outside. She was prepared for armed men to seize her as they would a prisoner, but as she looked warily around she saw only a tall, broad man with a neatly trimmed beard and a dark coat waiting beside the market cross. He was holding the reins of two horses: one was a huge, fearsome looking animal, black with a wide white blaze down its nose; the other was a smaller, more docile looking, bay mare.

“Lady Anne,” he said bowing his head slightly then turning to beckon forward a servant who ran to take the pack from her arms. “I am Sir William Stanley. I am here to escort you into the care of your legal guardian - my brother, Lord Thomas Stanley. Can you ride?” he asked as she stared from him to the horses and back again. She shook her head. There had never been the need to ride a horse before. She had never left the castle.

“Do not be alarmed,” said Sir William. “The mare is very friendly and I will lead her along. Come. I will assist you if you will permit me.”

Anne had not thought that her captors would be either kind or considerate. The village boy had said that Sir William had slapped him and taken Izzie by force. She had seen the boy’s bruised face. Yet the man standing here seemed well-mannered and respectful.

“Lady Anne?” She saw that Sir William had cupped his hands to make a step to lift her up onto the horse.

“I... I am not accustomed to riding,” she said as she met his dark brown eyes.

“You will be quite safe,” he said. “I promise that no harm will come to you, or your sister Elizabeth. Your guardian has entrusted me with your well-being.”

“Where is my sister?” ventured Anne.

“She is safe and she is well. You will be with her in Lancaster by nightfall... if we leave now,” he added in encouragement.

Anne placed her foot on the folded palms of his hands and felt herself thrown upwards as if she had no weight at all. She grabbed for the saddle to steady herself as her tender parts landed heavily on the hard leather and she let out a slight cry of shock and pain. Sir William helped her find the stirrups then handed her the reins, though he kept a leading rein in his own hand. Anne clung onto the pommel of the saddle. It looked a long way to the ground and she was afraid that she was going to fall.

“Don’t worry,” said Sir William, patting the horse’s neck, “we will go slowly.”

The mare moved beneath her and Anne held on tightly as Sir William led it away from Hornby, down the valley of the River Wenning towards Lancaster. Even though her eyesight was not as acute as Izzie’s she could see no besieging army, no battering ram or cannon and as she glanced at the man who led her along she wondered if her aunt had been tricked. Sir William, who had been whistling a tune, turned to smile at her as if he was satisfied that he had her in his possession. Anne looked down at the dark springy mane of her horse and her stomach knotted in a panic that made her want to cry. She turned to look back at Hornby Castle, clinging to the shoulder of the hill. It looked small and as the road dropped it disappeared from view. The countryside around her was unfamiliar and she felt lost.

The river valley widened as they headed south and the land to the west became flat.

“The sea,” said Sir William and pointed to a shimmer of grey that stretched to the horizon. “And ahead of us is Lancaster. We will be there soon.”

Anne watched as a different castle rose into view on a hill in front of them. It was much larger and more imposing than Hornby. “There’s been a fortress here since Roman times,” Sir William told her. He had been pointing out various landmarks all through their journey in an attempt to engage her in conversation, but she had found it impossible to reply and a brief nod was all she could manage now as she stared at the huge stone keep.

She had heard her uncles speak of Lancaster, but hadn’t realised how large it was compared to Hornby. As they approached she saw that there were more and more houses, some surrounded by gardens where a few goats and cattle grazed and crops grew in neat rows. Then the buildings became crowded together. They reached the walls and passed under a gateway into the centre of the town where the houses jostled for space with shops and forges, inns and cook houses. There was noise and dirt and a foul smell pervading everywhere from the rotting food and excrement piled up waiting to be buried. People moved reluctantly out of their way as the horses almost trod on their ill-shod feet. They stared insolently at Anne and she risked letting go of the saddle with one hand to pull up the hood of her cloak as protection against their inquisitive eyes.

At last they turned into the courtyard of a building with a picture of a sunrise painted on a board above its door. Trampled straw covered the ground and there were horses and dogs and people all around. Sir William Stanley got down from his horse and after handing the reins to his servant raised his arms to clasp her by the waist.

“Lady Anne. May I assist you?”

She stared around in bewilderment. Surely this wasn’t where she was to be held? She thought that she would have preferred the dungeon in the castle to this. A man, obviously drunk, staggered by and her horse flinched from his loud and tuneless singing, forcing her to cling to Sir William as he lifted her from the saddle. For a moment the male scent of him and his warm hands on her body reminded her of Richard and she had to push the thought forcefully from her mind. She recoiled from his touch and struggled for a moment to steady herself, having become accustomed to the swaying of the horse. She felt his large hand grasp her elbow.

“Careful, my lady!”

Beyond an open door she could see an ill-lit and crowded room filled with men sitting on benches around wooden tables drinking ale, talking and laughing loudly. Some of the women were dressed in gowns that showed the rise of their breasts as they leaned over to pour ale from large flagons and at least one of them had her hair uncovered and snaking over her shoulder for everyone to see.

“Where is my sister?” asked Anne, speaking for the first time since they had left Hornby. She felt sickened that Izzie might have been left alone in such a place as this.