"But they also say that King Henry was murdered ... and the people do not like a king to be murdered."

"Well." said Isabel.

"He died of displeasure and melancholy. That is what we are told and let us believe it."

"One cannot always believe what one would wish to." I replied.

"Perhaps not. But it is often comfortable if one tries to."

She was right, of course, and poor Henry, I believed, had had no great wish to live in his clouded world. For him it could have been a welcome release, as it was for the House of York and the nation.

His body was exposed at St. Paul's for the people to see and some said there was blood on it which gave credence to the rumour that he had met a violent death. Afterwards they took his body to Blackfriars and there it lay for a while before it was taken by barge to Chertsey and buried in the abbey there.

There was a feeling of relief throughout the nation. The popular King Edward was on the throne, and this was surely an end to the War of the Roses.

The days passed slowly at first and then more rapidly. I was so relieved to be with Isabel and to know that Richard would be coming to see me whenever he was free to do so.

Isabel told me how distressed she had been when George had turned against his brother. "It was our father who persuaded him." she said.

"He adored our father. He looked up to him so much."

I was amazed. Did Isabel not know that George adored only himself and had harboured a grudge because he had not been born the eldest son and above all things he wanted the throne? I suppose our father had promised him that or hinted at it, more likely. Our father had been too wise a man to have put his trust in Clarence. But Isabel loved him. That surprised me really, although of course he was rather handsome; he had his brother Edward's good looks, but he was not quite as tall, not quite so handsome. It was a case of 'not quite' with George. But I supposed he would be considered attractive until he became petulant, bad-tempered and treacherous, and no doubt love was blind to these faults, which was fortunate for Isabel.

Strangely enough, I think that next to himself he cared most for Isabel. Perhaps he found her devotion to him sweet. However it was not the disastrous marriage it might have been. I knew that he, as she did, longed for a child and they mourned the loss of that one who had been born at such an unfortunate time. But for that there would have been a bonny son by now.

I saw Clarence once or twice during that short period. He was extremely affable to me. He told me that the king had granted him the guardianship of my person and he was going to look after me and make sure of a happy future for me.

His words should have been comforting but when he smiled at me I felt a shiver of alarm. I kept remembering that he had been a traitor to his own brother, who had done nothing but good to him and had shown such amazing magnanimity in restoring him to the favour he had enjoyed before his act of blatant treachery. I could never feel safe while he was at Warwick Court. I did ask Isabel about our father's property.

"He would be called a traitor," I said, "and surely when traitors die their goods pass the the Crown?"

Isabel said: "You and I are the heirs of our father's estate and I am, after all, the Duchess of Clarence."

"And our mother?"

"She, I think, forfeits her share. She is after all the wife of a traitor. It is realised that you were forced into your position and are not judged guilty for that reason. I am not sure of these matters. However this place passed to me and George, of course, and I daresay Middleham as well. I am not sure. It is too complicated for me. But there is nothing for us to worry about as far as our inheritance is concerned."

"But our mother ..."

"She is in sanctuary still. George things it is wise for her to remain there for a while."

"I wish we could see her."

"I am sure we shall one day."

"I should like her to know that we are together."

"I think she does know that."

Then she will be relieved."

Isabel nodded.

"I am sure she will be forgiven soon."

"She must be very sad. She and our father were very fond of each other."

"What a tragedy it all was! Why did the king and our father have to quarrel?"

"I think they both misjudged each other, but it is done now and at least you and I are together."

"Let us be thankful for that. I have been asking George what we should do about arranging a match for you."

I was silent.

She went on: "George thinks you are too young yet. I said, "But she has already been betrothed and would have been married by now if everything had gone differently." But George thinks you should wait awhile. He says you have been through a terrible ordeal with Margaret and you need rest and care. Later we will think of it."

I was grateful to George and I was thinking of Richard. I wondered whether he was thinking of me.

I could not talk about Richard to Isabel. She would guess my feelings for him because she knew of our friendship in the past: so it was pleasant to be able to speak of him with Ankarette, taking care not to betray the extent of my interest in him.

I said to her one day: "I believe the Duke of Gloucester is often in the company of the king."

"Oh yes, so it is said. Indeed, they do say that Richard of Gloucester be the king's very favourite of all his family. He were mighty fond of his sister, Margaret, that married into Burgundy, which was a very good marriage from all ways you look at it. Think what a help she was to the king when he was in exile."

The family always stands together. So you think the Duke of Gloucester is his favourite brother."

That I do. Well, the little duke admires the king and 'tis no hard job to be fond of someone who sets you up like that, I reckon. Duke Richard has stuck by the king through all his trials. The one King Edward could trust most in the whole country is his brother Richard."

That was true, of course. Richard would always be faithful. I said: "He was with us quite a long time at Middleham. He came to my father's castle to learn what young men have to ... mostly about going to war."

"Aye, I do know."

They had a man who was at Agincourt to teach them."

"He must have been getting on in years."

"Yes, but he was more or less a boy when he fought in that great battle, and, as you say, very old when he taught the boys."

"Well, they grow up, don't they? Why, the little duke himself must be nigh on twenty. They'll be finding a wife for him soon, I wouldn't mind wagering."

"Do you think so?"

"You mark my words. Soon someone will come on the scene. You'll see. In the meantime, he's doing what you expect all young men to. There's a little boy, so I've heard."

"A little boy?"

"Yes ... name of John. John what I don't rightly know he'd be called. There's a girl, too. Katherine, I believe. But the boy's not long arrived."

"I don't understand. What have these children to do with the Duke of Gloucester?"

She looked at me in astonishment.

"Why, he be their father, of course. You look really shocked. Why, my Lady Anne, what do you expect of a young man? They say he is good to their mother and makes sure they are well cared for. He's quite fond of them, they say."

"Richard... a father!"

"I've heard it's all very respectable ... well ... as respectable as such things can be. He's no rake like his brother. He just has his mistress and I've only heard of the one. And now there are little ones. All very natural, of course. I reckon he'd marry her if she were Lady this or that. But what can he do... he being the duke and brother to the king? Widow ... I've heard when she was very young.

"Tis a terrible thing for a woman to be widowed young... as I can tell you."

"I see," I said.

"These children ... how old are they?"

"Well, as I've heard ... can't say more ... the boy's a bit of a newcomer, not more than a few months. The girl would be older. Two years maybe."

"So it has been going on for a long time."

Ankarette was saying: "He's quite a young man. They say his brother keeps him with him as much as he can."

I was not listening. I was thinking: Richard with a mistress! And all this time I was thinking he was in love with me!

Isabel noticed my preoccupation.

She said: "You have to grow away from the past. You have to be thankful for what you have. We were unlucky enough to be born at this time. There were wars and troubles all through our childhood. We did not hear much about it when we were at Middleham, but there was always conflict of some sort waiting to spring up. Then there was that time at sea when we had nowhere to go and they would not let us land at Calais."

I put my arms about her and we wept together, she for her baby and I for Richard who loved not me but someone else.

I had wondered why he had not come to see me. Now I knew why.

But when we had been together he had talked to me as a lover might. Or had I been mistaken? Had I read into his words what I wanted to read?

This was a bitter blow. I was only realising now how much he meant to me.

They would, no doubt, find a husband for me sooner or later. What a fool I had been to think of Richard! Just because he had drawn me to him at Middleham, because he had been part of my childhood, one whom I had always looked upon as my special friend ... and all the time he had been in love with someone else. He was the father of two children.

It was a shock to me when he arrived at Warwick Court. I told myself I could not face him and wondered if I could excuse myself. Could I become suddenly ill? But Isabel would know I was not. I had to face him. I had to stand beside Isabel and receive him.

He took my hand and kissed it; then he looked eagerly into my face and I could have sworn I saw love there. Images came into my mind of him with this woman ... this widow who would know of matters which I would not understand. How to please him, how to attract him. I kept thinking of the two children ... a family. He wanted to know how I fared. He looked at me anxiously.

"You do not look well, Lady Anne." he said.

"My sister has been somewhat tired of late," said Isabel.

"She eats too little and does not take enough interest in what is going on. She broods. I scold her but she takes no notice of me."

"That is a great mistake," said Richard.

"That is what I tell her. What is past is gone."

"One must look at the future," added Richard, smiling at me. We talked lightly. Richard said he would have come before but the king had to make sure that the country was quiet and only two days after his triumphant entry into London, they had had to be in Kent subduing threats of risings.

"Soon he will have everything under control," he said.

"The king grows in stature every day."

"So you think, my lord duke, that all will soon be well?" asked Isabel.

"I am sure of it," he replied.

"The people are going to realise how fortunate they are in such a king. Edward is going to be the greatest king England has ever had."

"Does that mean you will be staying in London?" I asked.

"I cannot believe that will be so. Suffice it that we are here now."

I think Isabel guessed that he had come to see me and she left us together.

As soon as we were alone, Richard turned to me.

"Anne," he said.

"I have wanted to speak to you for so long. I know you are very young still, but you have had so many experiences. I was heartbroken when I heard of your betrothal to Edward. Thank God that marriage was averted. I do not know what I should have done if it had not been."

"Why?" I said, a little harshly.

"Why? But we have always known ... have we not? Has there not always been this special love between us?"

"Love?" I said, trying to remain cool.

"Anne, I have always loved you. I thought you cared for me."

I was silent and he said rather pathetically: "Is it because I am small? I am not as straight-backed as I should be. I am lacking ..."

"I would not have you other than you are," I said.

"It is ..."

I could not go on but he insisted: "Please, Anne, tell me what is wrong."

"I... I have heard ... perhaps it is only gossip. Oh, it must be. I don't think I could bear it if it were not..."