The Forgotten Rose {COMPLETED}

Part I: Chapter Thirty-Three - A New Enemy

He wondered if Isabelle had been killed by the Queen's poisoner, if they killed her to hurt George. All knew he was fond of his wife, that somehow love had blossomed between the two. Perhaps she was poisoned to drive George mad with greif so that he would go against Edward and Edward would have no choice but the kill his brother.

It was all too perfect, for it had fallen into place. Now their was only one brother to have Edward's ear and so many Woodville's, now he was surrounded. And they had chased Richard away. Maybe it was their plan, to rid the court of all the York brothers. Then Edward was all theirs. It must have been thier plan all along.

Richard thoughts turned to the poor children at Warwick. Did they know their fathers fate? And if they did was it to their knowledge of the severity? How much they had lost?

He wanted to drink. He wanted to loose himself like George did, but he knew he would go too far. Once he started he wouldn't be able to stop and he didn't want to be driven to madness like George. He didn't want to leave Anne and their boy to the Woodville's. Every tavern he passed caught his eye, he wanted to stop. But he restrained himself he couldn't let himself go. For Anne. For his little Edward. For George's children. He had to be better than that. He had to keep going.

The rain began to poor. Richard kept riding. It would be a matter of hours and he would be with the two children. He could prepare their litter and have them sent to Middleham. Then and only then would they be safe.

As he planned he arrived in the mid afternoon on that grim day in March. The children were in the school room.

Richard dismounted his horse and gave it to a stable hand who led it away to be reshod, the shoes had been worn heavily by the gallop. He wouldn't be leaving until the next day, his horse was too weary and he needed sleep for his eyes were struggling to stay open.

He forced himself through the main door and clung to the first servant he found. "I need to speak with the children." He had commanded the servant who did not know who this strange man was. He was in his finery but mud coated his legs and he was exhausted. "I am their uncle, Richard, Duke of Gloucester." He said out of breath. "It is about their father."

"Yes, Your Grace. I am sorry," the servant hurried, "this way Your Grace." She walked at a brisk pace towards the children's quarters, they would be in the school room. George had commanded they spent as much time in there as possible. Richard struggled along behind her, his legs sore and forcing him to walk like he had a limp.

The school room resided near the top of the tower and Richard held on tight to the pillar that supported the spiralled staircase.

The servant pushed open the door and Richard barged in. The two innocent children sat playing on the floor, it was no school room it was a nursery surely. He smiled at the sight of the younger child, Ned, he looked so like his father. Richard became immersed in his features for a good few moments before snapping from his trance.

Margaret noticed her uncle at once and beamed up at him.

"Uncle Richard." She exclaimed standing to her feet and running to embrace him. He fell down to be at the same height as the young girl, he wrapped his arms around her with such love he hoped to one day give to his own daughter. He nestled his head into her golden hair and wept a slight tear. "Ned?" She asked for her brother who pulled himself up on his short legs and slowly staggered across to the two.

Margaret pretended her uncle was her father. Her eyes were sealed shut imagining her father. He was smiling at her, that warm handsome, smile with which he had always opened his arms for her. The looked he gave her mother when they sat across the dining table. She missed that look. Like her uncle she let loose a few tears.