Virgin Widow. Anne O'Brien

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ being united with the daughters of his chief counsellor. And would his permission not be needed for so critical an alliance?

      ‘It is equally a matter for the Plantagenets as well as Nevilles, my lord. Are you sure Edward will not object?’ The Countess had sat silently beside the Earl throughout the proceedings, but now echoed my own thoughts.

      ‘How can he?’ the Earl demanded. ‘He has left me no choice. Not one eligible match after the Woodville inundations! Where do I find a high-ranking husband for my daughters? Does he expect me to wed them to a common citizen? A landless labourer? Unless I look abroad—and I think he will not want the Neville lands and fortune handed to a foreign prince. No, my lady. These marriages will strengthen the English monarchy, with the Nevilles tied to the Plantagenets even more firmly than they are at present. How can he possibly object?’

      Her doubt continued to hover like a black cloud.

      ‘It is to our good fortune,’ the Earl assured, clasping her wrist in his. ‘Let us drink to it. And to the future stability of the realm.’

      ‘And you, my lord of Clarence?’ the Countess addressed herself to Richard’s gleaming brother. ‘What are your thoughts?’

      ‘I can think of no better union, my lady.’ He bowed over his platter, smiled with evident satisfaction. ‘Name any man in England who would not want to take a Neville heiress as his wife. I am grateful that you find me worthy.’ His expression was a masterpiece of self-deprecation. I did not believe him, but he knew how to apply charm.

      No one asked Richard.

      As we prepared to leave the room I saw my mother look across to the Earl. There was distress there; she did not approve of our good fortune. But she saw me watching her and fixed her face into a bright smile, rising to her feet to walk to my side and wrap her arm around me.

      ‘It will be a good marriage for you,’ she whispered against my hair. ‘You know Richard well. It is a good basis—friendship—for marriage.’

      I wasn’t so sure. I wasn’t sure of anything other than my relief that Richard would not wed Isabel.

      

      Next day I climbed to the wall-walk where I found Richard propping up the battlements, looking out towards the low hills to the south, watching the distant cloud of dust where Clarence and his escort made speed towards York, as if he wished that he too were leaving. Perhaps he did, although from his expression it was not a happy thought. He did not at first react when I leaned at his side. I waited, impatiently.

      ‘Well? What do you think of the plans for our future?’ Richard asked at last, continuing to rest his arms against the stone parapet as he looked sideways at me. At that moment he seemed impressively adult. Still not tall, but taller than I, his eyes were uncomfortably direct. His forthright question made me feel foolishly young and ignorant of the ways of the world in making and breaking alliances. What would this stern young man have to say to me, a barely grown girl?

      ‘I think…’ I didn’t know how to reply to him. Only that I needed to know what he thought. It should not have been so very important. Girls of my status were so often married to men whom they had never met. But this was Richard, who had lived under the same roof for four years, who had competed with me at archery and, I suspected, allowed me to win. Who had ridden with me when I had gone hawking for the first time. Had let me hold his goshawk on my wrist and did not laugh or mock when I first flinched from her fierce beak and beating wings. This was Richard who had given me a little metal bird. What did he think? Would he hate to be married to me?

      Seeing me, for once, speechless, he grasped the fur border of my cloak and pulled me to sit on the top step of the stair that led back down to the courtyard, out of the sharp breeze.

      ‘Stuck for words? Remarkable!’

      I kicked him on the ankle and he laughed. That was better. I felt my nerves relax in my throat. ‘I don’t know what to say.’

      ‘Do you want to know what I think?’ he asked.

      ‘Yes.’

      ‘I don’t find the idea objectionable. Do you?’

      I thought. ‘No. Just strange.’

      ‘Marriage to a changeling, as you once so unkindly pointed out.’ But his smile was soft, kind. I blushed at the cruel memory. ‘It will be some years yet,’ he added, perhaps mistaking my pink cheeks for apprehension. ‘You’re only eleven—too young to be a bride.’

      ‘But I think you’ll leave soon.’ It saddened me.

      ‘Next year. When I am of age. I hope that Edward summons me to Court.’

      ‘So then I shall not see you for years.’

      ‘No. Not for a little time. But when you have grown up, when we are wed, we’ll live together.’

      ‘Yes. Will you like it?’ I slid a glance, hoping I did not see dismay.

      ‘I expect I shall. Especially if you stop asking questions.’

      ‘I could.’ It suddenly mattered desperately that he should like it.

      Richard put his arm around my shoulders, a warm hug. ‘Don’t worry, I won’t beat you.’

      ‘I should think not! I am a Neville.’ My sense of dignity returned rapidly. ‘And I promise I won’t tease you.’

      A sharp voice carried up from below, aimed in our direction. I could not hear the words, but knew its owner. Master Ellerby had come to discover the whereabouts of his absent pupil. Lady Masham, I suspected, would be on the look-out for me.

      ‘I am needed,’ Richard said. ‘I’ve neglected my duties in the stables too long. My betrothal means nothing to the horses I must groom!’ He stood and pulled me up, brushed a hand down my dustspeckled skirts. I still did not know what to say to him at this moment of parting. Somehow our relationship had changed in that one pronouncement from my father. He was still Richard. Still an intriguing mix of cousin and brother, of henchman and royal guest in our house. And yet he was now so much more.

      I think he saw my perplexity and demanded nothing from me as he set off down the steps in front of me, then stopped so quickly that I almost fell over his heels. He bent and picked up a tail feather from one of the cockerels in a moult. What it was doing on the battlements I do not know—I found my thoughts incongruously taken up with the thing of such little importance in comparison with the plans for my future. The feather was green and black, long and shining still, iridescent in the dim light.

      ‘I have given you a bird. And now a feather. As a promise of my regard.’ With a flamboyant gesture he reached up and stuck it in through the fillet that held my veil, so that it drooped ridiculously over my brow. Then with a chivalry he never showed to me unless it were a formal occasion in adult company, he took my cold fingers and kissed them.

      ‘Good day to you, Lady Anne Neville.’

      I can still remember, all these years after, the brush of his lips against my skin on those cold battlements, the complex weave of my feelings for him.

      

      Overnight my sister Isabel became impossible. She summoned Margery to help her dress with an СКАЧАТЬ