1475
"We're almost there, lad." Edward said, clapping his brother on the back of the shoulders as he stood staring wistfully over the waves. Richard did not acknowledge his brother, and continued looking out over the side of the ship. Edward rolled his eyes, and turned so that his back was leaning against the bulwark. "You shan't stay mad at me forever, Dickon. You can't stay mad at me forever." He pointed out with a sigh. Richard's silence was beginning to irk him, and his glowering self-righteousness had started to piss him off the moment they had left France.
Richard turned to stare at his brother.
"You dragged us all the way to France." He said bluntly, his eyes cold. "All the way to France, with a bloody army. And you made a treaty instead of a battle." He spat, like the words burned his tongue.
"I doubt your wife will be as angry as you. I wager she's glad I didn't "drag" you into a war when peace could be made instead." Edward retorted coldly. Richard bit his tongue, remembering his place. He longed to snap back, to retort that accepting a bribe to return to England was the most dishonourable thing he could have done... but Edward was the king, and his will was final. It was as simple as that.
With Richard's silence being taken for compliance, Edward softened, putting a large, oak-tree like arm around his brother's shoulders.
"Once you get back to that pretty wife of yours back in Yorkshire I'm sure you'll see this was for the best. You know what your temper is, don't you?" He said with his trademark grin. Richard sighed and shook his head. "It's a lack of a woman in your bed that's got you in such a foul mood!" Edward said with a booming laugh. Richard rolled his eyes, although a small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Think lad, if I had given the French a damn good thrashing, we'd be out of England for months on end. At least this way both you and I get to go back to the beds of our wives." He said cheerily. Richard had to agree that his brother was right, and with a small grin, nodded.
"I suppose you are right. Although," He said with a pause. "Your bed has hardly remained empty."
Edward shrugged.
"Aye. But it's not me that's the odd one, brother. I think you'll find you are in the distinct minority of men that refuse to take a mistress. It's simply odd, Dickon, that's what it is."
"I'd rather my Anne than a tavern whore, Ned." Richard said gently. Edward laughed again.
"Good god, my brother is as sick as a dog!" He declared. "I'd rather my Elizabeth, but that doesn't mean I can't enjoy the pleasures of the continent." He said suggestively. Richard shook his head.
"No," He replied stubbornly. "Just Anne will do for me, brother. Just my Anne."
Anne raced down the stairs, taking them two at a time. Her husband had left in June, and it was now the beginning of October. For almost five months, she had noticed his absence. Not that he wasn't often away from home - he was, what with his brother being the king and his own titles as Lieutenant of the North and Warden of the West March - but this time was different. This time she more excited than usual to welcome him back. This time there was something else.
"My lady!" One of her maids exclaimed as she rushed past her to the kitchens. Anne grinned, remembering the days when she would run down these stairs as a child, chasing either her sister Isabel or one of the boys that lived in the castle back then. Her Richard had been one of them.
"Is there pheasant? You know my lord husband likes pheasant." She asked the kitchen staff. The cook nodded eagerly.
"You requested it my lady. We made sure we have plenty of pheasant."
Anne nodded, folding her hands and holding them to her chest.
"Good... good." She said absently, looking around the kitchens. "Are there apples?"
"Apples?" The cook asked. Anne nodded.
"Yes. I want apples. I... I need apples." Anne said excitedly. The cook scurried away and came back a moment later with a basket of fresh apples.
"Do you wish there to be an apple dish for the feast tonight, my lady?" He asked somewhat confused. Anne shook her head and took the basket from his hands.
"No. I just want apples." She said, giving him a thankful smile. She turned her back and hurried upstairs to her chambers, taking the basket of apples with her.
She bathed and dressed, putting on one of her best gowns. It was dark green brocade, with cloth of silver woven through it. It was hideously expensive and the fabric was second only to something the queen herself might wear. Richard had bought her the fabric one year for Christmas and it had made the most splendid dress that they both agreed brought out the green of Anne's eyes and the subtle redness of her auburn hair. He always loved her in this dress.
She looked out of the windows of the solar, and could see figures on the horizon. Several horses, their riders holding flags with an emblem that she couldn't quite make out but knew would be Richard's white boar.
"They're nearly here!" She exclaimed. Her ladies were already a flurry of action, polishing her jewels and brushing her shoes.
"Don't be nervous, my lady." One of her ladies whispered as she laced up the back of the dress, tying the laces looser than usual. Anne smiled gratefully. "The duke has been away many times, and he is always overjoyed to return to you." She said softly. Anne nodded, placing a gentle hand on the arm of the woman trying to comfort her.
"Yes, I know." She paused. "But this time... is different."
"He will be happy beyond belief." The woman assured Anne. Anne smiled.
"I hope so, Bess. I do hope so."
The riders stopped at the drawbridge, where the door was already down to welcome them and a crowd was waiting. Richard, at the head of the small party, pulled his horse to a stop. He noticed Anne was stood at the forefront of the crowd, glittering with jewels and wearing one of her best dresses. Richard grinned when he saw her, and jumped down from the horse. She came running to meet him, and he caught her in his arms, laughing as her arms snaked around his neck.
The other northern lords that had gathered for the feast watched in bemusement. It was hardly common for a wife to run to meet her husband, and even less common for a husband to have missed his wife's embrace so obviously, but nevertheless they smiled upon the young married couple that were clearly so very much in love. The other lords that had accompanied Richard went to meet their own wives that had gathered at Middleham castle for their homecoming, but were disappointed in their own welcome. None of their wives had run across the drawbridge to meet them, or flung themselves into their husband's arms. Love was rare in marriage; Richard and Anne had been exceptionally lucky.
"I have something for you." Richard whispered into her ear. Anne's eyes widened with glee. He reached into one of his saddlebags and carefully pulled out a white rose, gently placed into the bags and wrapped in paper to protect it. He had bought it from a flower seller upon his entry to the village, and so it was only mildly squashed.
She smiled as she took it from his hands.
"A white rose for my own Yorkshire flower." He said gently. She giggled like a child, her fingers rising to her lips to conceal a smile. "It's a little squashed, but..."
"I love it. Thank you." She said, taking Richard's hand. He pressed his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and relishing in how good it felt to be home.
"Shall we go inside? I think they are waiting for us." He whispered. She laughed again.
"Yes. Oh, how I will never be over how odd it is!" She said, nodding to the lords and castle staff waiting by the curtain walls. Richard turned to her inquisitively. "Who would have thought, Dickon, when we were children running along the walls that one day we would be the lord and lady of Middleham and have all these people waiting for us to head into the castle first!!" She said with a laugh. Richard grinned, wrapping his arm around her waist and leading her inside.
"I wouldn't have it any other way, my love."
"I call for a toast to my men! The most loyal breed I have ever had the pleasure to meet, who I do believe would follow me into Hell should I ask." Richard declared, stood in the centre of the table at the top of the dining hall. The last course was over with, and the wine had been flowing freely for almost four hours. He raised his gilded goblet, and a little sloshed over the sides as he did so. The men before him cheered and clapped, their stamping feet causing the floor to shake. "But also!" He said once the hall had quieted again. "I shall toast to my wife, and all the women of this county, who have waited for their husbands to come home, who maintained our castles and our homes, who have welcomed us with open arms and given us this grand feast! To my lady Anne, the duchess of Gloucester and the lady of Middleham!"
Anne blushed a little at the sudden uproar, the cheers of drunken revellers toasting in her name. Richard grinned at her side. Wine never did make him stumble and slur like it did with others; it always gave him a little extra grace and made his words smooth as honey.
"When do you think..." He said sitting back in his chair and leaning over to whisper in her ear. "...We can go up to bed without them missing us?"
Anne's heart stopped. She smiled nervously.
"Oh, a few hours at least yet, Richard." She said, gently patting his arm. He blinked and his eyebrows furrowed.
"Hours? Don't be silly, Anne!" He said with a laugh. She cleared her throat and merely nodded to her husband before turning to Francis Lovell on her left. Richard cocked his head in confusion, but was too drunk to pay it too much attention. He decided that in an hour, perhaps an hour and a half, they would go to bed. It had been too long since they had been together, and he had remained completely celibate whilst in France. He decided that Anne was merely too preoccupied with being a good hostess and that explained her reluctance to go at once with him to the bedchamber.
"I need some air." She said after the passing of a few minutes. Richard nodded, watching her walk hastily to the side of the room where the stairs descending down were the only way of exiting the stone keep. He watched her over the rim of his goblet, ignoring the words of William Catesby who sat by his side.
Anne hurried down the steps and out into the brisk air. She walked straight across the inner bailey, heading for the guard's quarters. She pushed gently on the door and it opened without any resistance. The guard on the bottom floor bowed his head and gave her a kindly smile. It made her feel better, and as she climbed more stairs she could feel the nerves in her stomach abating the higher she climbed.
Eventually, she came out on top of the curtain wall that enveloped the keep. She was looking out over the Yorkshire dales and the small houses in the outer bailey and in the village beyond. She could see for miles, all the way to Bolton Castle.905Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡCqGnETMaKg
The wind was picking up, and it licked her face and made her cheeks burn. She didn't mind, she liked the wind and it was far more refreshing than being in the great hall, where the large number of bodies made the heat rise. Out here, with her dress whipping round her legs and the hair beneath her headdress tickling her face, she felt more free than anywhere.
She heard footsteps behind her, but did not turn for she expected it to be one of the castle guards starting his rounds. She rested her elbows on the grey stone walls and sighed heavily.
She heard a slight scuffle behind her, and then a familiar 'ow'.
"These fucking stairs!" Richard cursed. The top stair of the guard tower had been uneven ever since they were children, and when they were young they always remembered to skip the top step or risk tripping up and stubbing one's toe rather painfully on the dull stone block. Anne had always remembered to skip the top step - she often came up to the top of the wall even now - but Richard, it seemed, had not.
"I thought your father was going to fix that." He said grumpily as he emerged from the tower and out onto the wall. Anne laughed a little, trying to mask her amusement with a cough. Richard raised an eyebrow and began to laugh himself.
"He was." Anne replied. "Then your brother killed him on a battlefield." She said lightly.
"Ah yes." Richard said. "Wasn't it during the same battle I led forces against your husband and killed him?" He asked, wrapping his arms around her waist.
"No," Anne corrected. "That was the one after. Father died first. Edward of Lancaster was killed a few days afterwards. Thank the lord I wasn't his wife for very long!" She said. Richard laughed and blamed the wine for his lapse in memory.
"So you might say I... rescued you from the evil clutches of Edward of Lancaster?" He muttered, his lips against her neck.
"Some might say." Anne said, clearing her throat. Her knees were going weak, a heat growing within her. Shaking her head clear, she pulled away just slightly from her husband's embrace.
"Anne," He groaned. "What is it?"
"What is what?" She asked innocently.
He raised an eyebrow.
"You have never denied my bed before. Never pulled away from me before. Never have you been so excited to see me home and then so cold afterwards. Something troubles you?" He asked. Anne shook her head. Gently, she pressed her palm to his cheek,
"Oh, Richard, no. Nothing is wrong." She began. "You see... I cannot share your bed. Not for a while at least." She said, a smile beginning to form on her face. Her husband's confusion made her want to giggle. "I wanted to wait for the perfect moment to tell you, you see...I am with child."
"Child?" Richard asked, dumbfounded.
Anne nodded.
"A month after you left for France, my courses did not arrive. Nor did they the month after. Or the month after that. I didn't tell you in my letters because... well... I wanted to surprise you." She said rather sheepishly. Richard's face burst into a smile, lighting up his features. He picked her up around the waist and spun her around in a circle.
"A child? Our child?" He asked excitedly. They had been married so long he was beginning to think they were never to have an heir. And now, now Anne was with a child and it was the best news he had heard in months.
She nodded eagerly, and he began to laugh. His hands found their way to her stomach, where he felt a small bump concealed under her dress. When he looked at her again, he saw a glow he must have missed earlier, a certain roundness in her cheeks that he hadn't noticed before. She was radiant, and she carried his child within her. He couldn't have loved her more.
Immediately, he put an arm around her and began to lead her down the stairs.
"You should be inside, you should be resting. Lord above, if you should fall on that step..." He trailed off. Anne shook her head slowly, finding humour in his sudden bout of protectiveness over her.
"You needn't worry Richard. I'll be fine." She said, descending the steps one at a time. He waited for her at the bottom, holding out his hand to help her down, as if she was fragile, like a piece of fine Venetian glass.
"Is there anything I can get you? Anything? Whatever it is, you name it, I'll get it. Oranges from Spain, spices from India, wine from Gascony... cost is of no matter." He rambled. "Anything my wife needs, she shall have." He said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. Anne raised an eyebrow.
"Well?" He asked when she remained silent. "Women crave things, don't they? When they are with child? I was only a babe when my mother had her last child but Edward speaks of Elizabeth often hankering for exotic spices and sweet meats. If that is what you want Anne, that is what you shall have."
"No Richard," Anne replied. "Nothing like that." She said with a smile. "Just apples. All I want is apples."
"Apples?" He asked with a laugh. She nodded. "Well, that's easy enough! Apples it shall be, my love!"
He led her inside, into the warmth and safety of the keep. Ignoring all others, he saw her safely to the bedchamber and stoked a fire with his own hands. Outside, in the great hall where a handful of guests still lingered, they whispered behind cupped hands how odd it was the duke of Gloucester went down on his knees to light a fire for his wife, how strange that he cast aside his own warmth and wrapped his cloak around her shoulders. How unusual that the Duke and Duchess seemed to truly care for one another.
A/N - I meddled with fact a little here. The baby Anne carries in this was born Edward of Middleham, and his birthdate actually falls somewhere between 1473 and 1475 (it's disputed). If he was born in 1475, the likelihood is that he was born before his father went to France on his uncle's campaign, not afterwards. But hey... creative licence, right?905Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡdWxSZW1srZ
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