He hesitated, then he said: "Oh no, my lady. It is nothing. I am well... really well. Just a little tired."

"Dearest Edward," I said. There is nothing to be ashamed of. Good health is given to us by God. It is His will and we should not seek to excuse our weakness."

I held him against me and he put his arms round me.

"I want to be big and strong," he said.

"That is what my father wants me to be."

"When your father was about your age he used to get tired ... even as you do. And see now, he is big and strong ... a king."

He nodded and gave me a tender, pathetic smile which touched me deeply and made me sad.

Tomorrow," I told him, "we shall ride into York. That is your father's favourite city."

"It is because we are of the House of York."

That is true. How is Middleham, Edward?"

"It is as ever, my lady."

"Do you think of me when you are there?"

"All the time. When I hear horses approaching, I always hope that it is you ... or a message to say that you are coming."

"I would I could be with you more... or you with us."

He smiled at me a little sadly, and I guessed he was thinking of the strain of the journey and the demands which would be made on a Prince of Wales at court.

He is too serious for his age, I thought: and I longed for him to be carefree as other boys of his age.

"In York, we shall be meeting many old friends, Your cousin is going to join us."

"Which cousin is that, my lady?"

"Your cousin Edward. Oh, how many Edwards there are! They are all named after Edward the king. He was such a well-loved person in the family. Your cousin, Warwick, perhaps I should say."

"He is twice my cousin," said Edward.

I nodded.

"That is so the son of my sister and your father's brother. We must welcome him warmly for he has neither father nor mother now."

Ts he coming back to Middleham?"

That has not yet been decided, but he will be under your father's care. Edward, why do you not lie down for an hour or so? I shall see that you are ready in good time before you are expected to join us."

He looked grateful, and I went out and left him. I was uneasy and above all things I should have liked to take him back to Middleham. If there was one person who should be looking after him now surely that was his mother.

Later young Edward, now Earl of Warwick, joined us. I was very interested to see Isabel's son. He was eight years old two years younger than my Edward. He brought back memories of Isabel; he did not remember his mother, so I could not speak to him of her. He had been barely three when his father had died. Poor little orphan!

I thought he might be a companion for my son, but Richard was unsure whether it would be wise to have him at Middleham. He could not forget that he was Clarence's son. The children should not be held responsible for their father's sins, I said.

Richard thought he would rather wait awhile and test the boy before he made him a close associate of our son. In the meantime young Warwick could have his own household at Sheriff Button. Richard's nephew John, the Earl of Lincoln, was in residence there; and it seemed to Richard that that would be a good home for Warwick, at least temporarily.

When we entered York we were given a tumultuous welcome. We had been accepted in London but not with the rapturous delight shown to us here.

Richard, of course, had brought peace to the north; it was up here that his worth was recognised. He belonged to the north and the northerners showed that they realised this.

The people of the town had long awaited his arrival and had been making lavish preparations for weeks. The streets were hung with banners, there were pageants at every corner and the mayor and the aldermen with noted citizens of the town, all in their colourful costumes, were waiting to proclaim their loyalty.

Richard was overcome by emotion. This greeting came from the hearts of these people and was not given in exchange for a holiday and free wine. On behalf of the citizens the mayor presented Richard with a gold cup filled with gold coins, and for me, there was a gold plate similarly filled.

I had rarely seen Richard so pleased.

"These people do not pretend." he said.

"One senses their loyalty. Their feelings come from the heart. We will stay here for a while and there is no reason why Edward's investiture should not take place in this city."

I was relieved. This meant that Edward would not have to travel another long distance for a while.

I said I thought it an excellent idea.

"We shall have to send to London for the necessary garments and whatever will be needed," I said.

That shall be done," replied Richard.

The citizens of York were delighted at the prospect. There were more days of pageants and entertainments. A banquet was given by the mayor, and players were engaged to amuse us.

The investiture itself was a grand ceremony, but for me it was fraught

with anxiety. I knew how exhausting these ceremonies could be, and I was watchful of Edward throughout. He had a wonderful spirit. I wished that I could make him see that he must not feel guilty because of his weakness. I wanted to tell him that his father loved him as dearly as I did, but he did not find it easy to show his love. It was not easy to explain that to a ten-year-old boy.

I was relieved when the ceremony was over and Edward had come through without any signs of great exhaustion. We walked from the minster, our crowns on our heads, with our son, now Prince of Wales, beside us, and the shouts of the crowd were deafening.

I wished that we could have lingered at York, but despatches were coming from London. There was a certain restiveness in the capital. What was the king doing in the north was being asked? He was not merely lord of the north now; he was King of England. Rumours started that he was so enamoured of Yorkshire that he had had a second coronation there.

"One should always take heed of the people," said Richard.

"I shall have to leave for the south. Our son should go with us."

"Richard." I said.

"Have you noticed how these ceremonies are tiring him?"

Richard nodded sadly.

"I am deeply aware of it, Anne." he said.

"Will he ever grow out of this weakness?"

"You were not very strong as a boy." I reminded him.

"And yet now you are as strong as any man."

Ts his some internal weakness?" He looked at me and, for the first time, I felt there was a hint of ... well... not exactly blame ... but was it criticism? Edward's weakness came through me. Was he implying that? Perhaps I was too sensitive. Perhaps I imagined what was not there. But I did fancy I read thoughts flashing through his mind. How could the great Warwick have produced such a weakling? Isabel had died. No one believed she had been poisoned by Ankarette Twynyho. She had died of her weakness, but although two of her children had also died, she had still been able to produce two healthy ones. I had been unable to do even that. My only child, the Prince of Wales, was a weakling. And over all these years I had shown no sign of further fertility. I was no use to him ... as a queen ... as a wife.

This was unfair, of course. Richard had always been tender and understanding ... a faithful husband. But the seed was sewn and the terrible doubt would live on in my mind. The fault was in me. I could bear only one weak child, and I was therefore unfitted to be the wife of a king. Passionately Richard longed for children ... sons. For all the venom she had aroused, Elizabeth Woodville had fulfilled her duties as a queen and had produced a healthy brood for Edward.

I was very unhappy.

Richard, sensitive to my sadness, put an arm round me.

"We will take care of him, Anne. We will restore him to health. Tis true, I was a poor thing in my youth. I did not have the right frame for all that heavy armour. I used to hide my weakness just as Edward does. He has no need to do that from us. We understand. We must make life easier for him. Yes ... when he is older, he will grow out of his weakness, even as I did."

I shook off my foreboding. I would pray as never before that I might be fertile.

"Richard," I said.

"He cannot make the journey to London."

"We should all be together. It is what the people expect."

"But after this exhaustion, he needs a long rest. He needs care. He needs freedom from strain. He needs tender nursing."

"So he must go back to Middleham?"

"Yes, Richard, and I must go with him."

"But ... you should be with me. You have just been crowned queen."

"I want to go with you, Richard."

"I think you, too, find the ceremonies exhausting."

"No ... no. I get a little tired. I think everyone does. But I am thinking of that special care which only his mother can give him."

Richard stared blankly ahead of him.

I cannot do this, I was thinking. And then: but I must. I should be with Richard, but my son needs me more.

"You think you must go with Edward then?" said Richard slowly.

"I do."

"And you could not leave him to the care of others?"

"I know I should be with you. The people will expect it. There will be rumours."

"Rumours? I shall know how to deal with rumours."

"It is hard for me. I want to be with you. I want to be all that you would wish me to be. I love you, Richard. I have since those days at Middleham, but this is our son."

"I understand," he said.

"He needs you more than I do. If you come with me you will be unhappy thinking of him."

"And if I am with him, I shall be thinking of you ... wanting to be with you."

"It is a situation in which there is no true satisfaction. Life is often like that, Anne."

"I want you to understand, Richard. My heart will be with you."

"And if you were with me it would be with Edward. I see how you feel and I think you are right. Edward has the greater need."

I went to him and put my arms about him. He kissed my hair.

"Very soon," he said, "the day after tomorrow mayhap, I must leave for London and you will go back to Middleham with our son."

Edward and I left York and I insisted that he ride in a chariot. I rode with him, for, as I said to him, I was glad to be carried. I had found the ceremonies very tiring. He looked pleased and I thought what a common trait in the human character it was to find pleasure in the fact that other people suffer from the same weaknesses as we do ourselves.

From then I would get my son to rest by complaining of my own tiredness.

With us rode Edward's cousin, young Warwick. As I watched him I wished that my Edward had his strength. Not that Warwick was all I should have looked for in a son. I was sure that my Edward had the better mind.

I think Isabel's son would have liked to come with us to Middleham, for he and I became good friends and he liked to listen to accounts of my childhood which I had spent with his mother.

How sad it was, I thought, for a child not to remember his mother and very little of his father.

So I told him how beautiful Isabel had been, how merry, how excited when she had known he was coming into the world, and his sister Margaret also. I was not sure where Margaret was at this .time. I supposed she was being brought up in some noble household and I thought what a pity it was that brother and sister had to be parted, and could not enjoy their childhood together as Isabel and I had.

I was sad when I had to leave young Warwick behind at Sheriff Button. His cousin John, Earl of Lincoln, who was the son of Richard's sister Elizabeth, Duchess of Suffolk, was in residencethere and Warwick was put in his care. We had an enjoyable stay and I was relieved to feel that Warwick would be happy there. We should be able to visit each other, I told him; and that seemed to please him. Then my son and I travelled the short distance to Middleham.

In spite of leaving Richard, I could not help a feeling of pleasure at being in the home I loved. As soon as we arrived, I took my son to his bedchamber and insisted on his retiring at once. He was very glad to do so.

I lay on his bed with him; we were contented with our arms about each other. I had made it clear that there was to be no ceremony between us. We were going to forget that I was the queen and he Prince of Wales. I was just his mother and he was my little boy.