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Sitting before her desk with a pen in her hand, Anne did not know what to write. She was now married and secured a new position as Lady Duchess of Gloucester. She lived in her childhood home, Middleham Castle. Her husband, Richard, was the Lord of North. Though she was not the Queen per se, as Lady of the North, her position was not that much different from the Queen’s, in North that is.
Her mother Countess of Warwick was still in Beaulieu Abbey. She never stopped writing to Anne seeking her help and mercy. Some of her letters were pathetic; others were cruel. Obviously, she was in a very desperate position.
Anne’s feelings towards her mother were complex and conflicted. She was still mad at the Countess for abandoning her while sought sanctuary herself; and she not happy that the Countess only thought of her own grief and difficulty without even considering her awkward and difficult position as ward of George and Isabel. She kept all her mother’s letter in a small coffer. Once, she wanted to hurl them into the fire.
She could’ve talk to Richard about her mother; even though she didn’t need to since Richard worked hard to secure their share of Neville fortune. As part of his strategy, Richard already wrote to King Edward IV to secure the release of the Countess.
It was highly likely that soon, her mother the Countess would join them in their household.
Initially, Anne wanted to have the Countess settled in the other side of the castle where they wouldn’t walk into each other. But today, she changed her mind.
The midwife had confirmed that she was with child.
Anne ordered no one to inform Richard the news; she wanted to tell him herself.
Being a mother-to-be softened her. Maybe it was also because of her fear of childbirth. Since Richard and George had yet reached a settlement, it was not likely that Isabel would join her for her confinement. She needed someone there. It’d be nice if the Countess be there to attend the birth of her child.
***
That evening, Richard returned from the road; he was gone for two weeks.
Anne happily waited for him in the courtyard. Soon, she saw horses.
There he was—her husband and lord. He descended from his horse and went to her. Anne was about the curtsey before he stopped her. Taking her arm, they walked into the castle.
“I have something to tell you,” he said to her when they ate at the meals table.
“What is it?”
He handed her a letter. Anne read it and her eyes grew radiant. “So my mother is leaving Beaulieu?”
“She is and she will join us here,” Richard told her. “Are you prepared for that?”
After a moment of silence, Anne nodded. “She is my mother after all. Past is the past.”
“You have a good appetite,” he commented. “Since when did you start to love sweet meat so much?”
Anne shrugged.
No, she was not going to tell him over dinner.
***
Lying in her four poster bed, Anne stroked her belly. She was in her very early stage of pregnancy and her belly was still flat. Months later it would be swollen. By then, their intimacy would be limited for the sake of her baby, their baby. Would Richard take a mistress then?
Men had their needs, after all.
Her intimacy with Richard was her duty—to provide him an heir.
To Anne, Richard was a bit enigma. He treated her well, much better compared to Edouard of Lancaster. At times, however, he was reserved and distant. He made love to her with care. Unlike with Edouard, Anne looked forward to bed Richard. She enjoyed his touch and caresses; and kisses.
No, she did not like the thought of him bedding other women and sire children with them.
Yes, she knew about his bastard children; but they were born before she married him.
As she was sank in her thoughts, Richard joined her in bed.
“When is my mother going to be here?” she asked as he lied down next to her.
“Soon, in the matter of months,” he replied.
Anne reached over the play with his hair.
“What is it?” he asked.
Anne bit her lips. “I see that our castle needs some renovations. My mother will be here and I like to make her feel at home.”
“Our castle is fine the way it is,” Richard said as he pulled her into his arms. “You mother should be grateful that she’s no longer in the sanctuary.”
“But…there’s someone else to join us.”
“Really? Who?” Richard raised an eyebrow. “Don’t tell me there’s another Neville relative—“
“It is, sort of.”
“Who?” He let out a sigh and said, “Anne, we cannot have this castle full of Neville relatives.”
“Well, it’s going to happen,” Anne muttered against his chest. “I just learned about it earlier today.”
“When is he going to arrive?”
“In about nine months.”
“That’s almost a year.”
Anne laughed at his response. “Richard, I’m sure that you will be very happy when he arrives. In fact, you are much closer to him than you think.”
“Have I even met him?”
“No, not yet.”
“So where is he if I’m so close to him?”
Anne laughed again and took his hand and pressed it against her belly. “He’s here.”
It took Richard a few seconds, but once he got it, he laughed too. He kissed Anne dearly on the forehead and held her against his heart.
When he pulled the strap of her nightshift off her shoulder, Anne resisted. “Richard, we can’t…I don’t want to harm the baby.”
“Shh, it’d be good for him. Our lovemaking will make him thrive,” he murmured against her shoulder.
A moment later, Anne lied in the bed satisfied than ever. Richard was stroking her belly and covering with kisses while she played with his dark curls.
“Richard?”
“Hmm?”
“When I’m in my confinement, you won’t take a mistress, will you?” she asked.
He raised his head from her belly and asked, “Why do you think I will?”
He lied down next to her and pulled her against him in a spooning position and whispered, “No one can ever take your place. You are the only woman to share my bed.”
“This child…what if it’s a girl?”
“It does not matter to me, we are still young.”
His hands rested on her belly for the rest of the night.
Anne closed her eyes and slept soundly.
She had a husband who loves her and stays faithful to her; she was with child; and her mother would join her.
God had answered her prayers.
***
Months later, Anne Beauchamp Countess of Warwick came to Middleham. She was surprised to see her daughter receiving her. Her belly was flat and she was thin.
Wasn’t she supposed to be in confinement?
At first, the Countess thought she had lost the baby but Anne’s face was full of happiness.
“Lady Mother,” she welcomed her. She seemed at little hesitant, but soon, the two women embraced each other.
Ah, women—in that time and age—what choices did they have in time of war? They were both thankful that they were alive and safe.
“Come Lady Mother,” Anne led the Countess to the nursery. In the crib slept a tiny baby. Anne gently picked him up and rocked him in her arms. “He came early. My water broke before my confinement. Richard was not by my side, but his heart was with me.” She looked at her mother and continued, “He is small, but he will grow. I’m nursing him and we also have the best wet nurses of the north. Would you like to hold your grandson, Lady Mother.”
Fighting back her tears, the Countess took the baby in her arms. “What is his name?”
“His name is Edward, to honor the King. We call him Ned.”
After a while, the Countess muttered, “You are fortunate Anne, to have Richard as husband. He is so good to you.”
“I know Lady Mother, I know.”