The Forgotten Rose {COMPLETED}

Part I: Chapter Two - A Royal Betrothal

Rebellion was fresh in the air as Anne Neville stepped from the ship and onto the harbour. She had scrubbed away the menacing blood of her sister. Yet she was still sure that it was under her fingernails and in her hair. Even her mother did not show her usual regal self as they left the ship. Her head was held high but the proudness did not shine from her. She simply held onto her elder daughter, Isabelle, to ensure her safety at the most dangerous point in her life so far.

The three women, Anne, her elder sister Isabelle and their mother Lady Anne de Beauchamp were accompanied by only men; including Isabelle's husband and the girls father Richard, Earl of Warwick. All who left the ship were shaken for the storm through which they had sailed. A storm which could have so easily taken each of their lives if it had deemed right to do so. Men who had sailed the seas all their lives were in feared death as they sailed through that storm.

"I shall never sail with a woman aboard again, not a labouring woman. It was she who cursed us," one sailor remarked as the three women passed them. Anne saw her mother glare at the men, had she took not bee so shaken she would have scolded the man. But with Anne and Isabelle beside her, Lady Anne would not have wanted to distress poor Isabelle any more. For poor Isabelle, only eighteen years of age, had faced the birth of her first child without a midwife and that had cost her the life of her first born child.

"They are a curse upon sailors," another replied, Anne's mother pulled the hood of her cloak over her head to shelter herself from the men's insults. Anne's mother was a proud woman, the daughter of Richard de Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, she had been brought up to think ahead. Never had she been questioned in her acts not even by her bold husband Richard Neville. She stood tall and showed no fear; to the knowledge of her two daughters she was immune to fear.

"Lady mother where are we to go?" Anne asked as they reached the end of the harbour where her father sat proudly upon his warhorse. He waved at his two daughters before galloping off accompanied by his son-in-law George Duke of Clarence, "are we to return to England? To Warwick Castle?" The young woman longed for the comfort of her own home, the place she had known since childhood where she had learnt how to be a noble woman in her own right. She was growing everyone could see that; she was lean from her growth and a woman's figure was certainly becoming clear. It was almost her own time to marry. Almost time for her father to use her for his gain.

"No Anne, we are to go to Valognes just as your father orders," Lady Anne de Beauchamp said rashly discarding her daughters comments as the three women marched on ahead towards the carriage which would take them to their destination, "your father has arranged us a place there."

"Can we not go to Calais Castle, that is our home is it not? Why Valognes?" Anne asked her mother once more, raising her voice to ensure that she could be heard. Lady Anne de Beauchamp stopped her walking and turned to her younger daughter with a serious look upon her face.

"We are women, we do as our husband, or our father wishes. We do not ask questions and we do not raise our voices in such a manner. You will be obedient whilst in France, Anne, if you are not then it shall be the King of France who decides your fate, and he is no friend to us," Lady Anne de Beauchamp commanded Anne looking down at the girl with a her stern expression.

Anne fell back into place and followed her mother in silence, just as obediently as her sister Isabelle.

The journey to Valognes was long and arduous, Isabelle still weak from her troublesome childbirth delayed the party. She clung to the reins of her horse and rested upon its slender neck. Her exhaustion over came her at times her eyes would cease to open but neither Isabelle or her sister complained to their mother. If their father deemed it wise to travel to Valognes then to Valognes they would go, without fuss or complaint.