The Forgotten Princess (Forgotten Royals)

Chapter Eighteen

The rest of the world had forgotten me, but today I was going to embrace my future. No longer did I fear displeasing the king. Nothing I did would make things worse for my family.

But things would be better for me.

Catrin helped me with my white gown, the one I once used to appear innocent before the Lancaster court. I had grown to loathe the sight of it, a dress from when I had groveled and debased my family's dignity. Now it would have better memories for me.

My thirteen-year-old sister watched my preparations with a knowing look on her face. "Why can't I attend?"

"It won't be a grand wedding," I said. "We're just going to have the business done in the chapel."

Eleanor tilted her head. "Then I might as well be there."

I held up a finger. "On the slight chance that there's trouble from this whole union, I don't want you getting any blame for it. You weren't involved and you know nothing."

"Oh yes, I only am your constant companion, watched your whole courtship, and will know the reason we no longer share a bedchamber." She let out an exaggerated sigh. "I never get to do anything fun. You wouldn't even let me attend Twelfth Night revelries."

I rolled my eyes as I used the rest of my rose water. "You can do that when you're older."

"But shouldn't you have some family there?" She rose and hurried over to me, my little sister now almost matching my height. "You take everything on yourself. It's bad enough our brothers can't be here, bad enough Mama will never know. You don't always have to be alone."

My heart clenched. "I won't be so alone after today." I gave her a tight hug. "Trust me, it's not a proper wedding."

We parted, and with only Catrin for company, I made my way to the chapel. Richard's brother and sister-in-law were there. His brother was not too pleased about our secret wedding, but was unable to stop it. Whatever Richard knew of him was too powerful.

I caught my breath when I spotted Richard. He always dressed fine, but this time he looked like he was a trueborn son of York. Garbed in a crimson, furred houppelande, he stood tall and proud, a young man who looked ready to embrace the future.

Richard raised an eyebrow at my appearance. "White?"

I smoothed the folds of the skirt. "If a princess can wear white for her wedding, so can I."

He tried to maintain a solemn expression in the chapel, but was unable to smother a grin. His playfulness was a contrast to his sour older brother, Edward, irked at having to play witness to a wedding that wouldn't have royal approval. With the exception of his sullen expression, he managed to keep his peace.

His wife, Philippa, smiled at me. "You look like an angel, my dear."

I gave her a reluctant smile. Despite my affections for Richard, I still had fierce resentment for the York family that played with my family's freedom. But the older woman had welcomed me like a sister. In her forty-first year, she had a sweet beauty and refinement. She treated Richard like a younger brother when his other siblings gave him grudging toleration.

Edward grunted. "Our father did choose the white rose for the badge of York."

The bright happiness in Richard's eyes dimmed for an instant, and I could have kicked myself. For all his complaining about white, I thought he was just teasing about it being a dull color.

Then he gave a cheeky smile. "Perhaps it's the best color for my lady wife to wear. You look like a rose, Anne. A white rose of York."

His brother looked rather unpleased, but delight ran through me. Not for the compliment, but because he said my name with no title.