NOT ABOUT ANGELS | THE WHITE QUEEN

Chapter XXXIX

George ignored her words. "There will be others."

"That won't bring my baby back!" Her sister shrieked.

"George, you are distressing her, please," she tried to reason with him but he ignored her.

"Elizabeth is with child again," she sucked in a sharp breath at his words. "We must have a son before she does."

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Valogne, France

After the storm, Charlotte led her sisters into their temporary house, trying not to think of what could be happening in England.

Isabel lifted her gowns from the trunk. "Ruined. Everything's ruined!" She tossed her dresses onto the floor.

"No, it looks worse than it is. We can manage until we return home," Anne said, putting the gowns over the side of the trunk.

Charlotte scoffed, and turned around to face her youngest sister. "We will not be able to return home, Anne. Because of our father, we are all exiled now, as Margaret of Anjou. We may never see England again." I may never see Edward again. I may never see or hold my children again.

"We are not like her. We are nothing like her," Anne seethed. "Edward can just forgive us again, like last time."

"Edward could forgive us or not. We may never know." Charlotte said, tuning to look out the window again.

She needed to find out a way to send a letter to Edward. She would find a way home to England, for herself and her sisters. They would not suffer anymore because of her father's and George's selfish pride. "I promise you girls, that I will find us a way back to England."

Isabel and Anne listened to Charlotte. They both knew that she had complicated feelings regarding their father, but could she truly betray him?

The next day, they were called into their father's study.

"What's this about, Warwick? Where have you been?" George asked loudly, as he entered the study.

"Making arrangements," he said simply.

"What arrangements?" Lady Anne asked, a look of apprehension on her face.

"Are we going home, Father?" Anne asked, reaching out to touch his arm.

"Yes. But not just yet. Charlotte, you are to be married first," her father said, and Charlotte tensed, her heartbeat becoming erratic in her chest.

"I was not consulted," Lady Anne complained primly, but Warwick silenced her.

"There wasn't enough time," he retorted.

"To whom?" George asked, an edge in his voice.

"Charlotte will marry Prince Edward of Westminster, to seal our alliance with Lancaster," he said, making his youngest daughter gasp in fright. Charlotte took hold of Anne's hand and gripped it comfortingly. She would not be cowed.

"Is there any chance you're with child?" Her father asked, his eyes looking up sharply at her.

"No. I bled on the ship," she blushed. It would have been easier if she were pregnant, at least that way she could not be married off until she had recovered from birthing the child. But, at the same time, her father could force her to drink pennyroyal tea or decide Anne would marry the Lancastrian heir.

"Margaret of Anjou is our enemy. Our greatest enemy. She hates us," Anne mumbled.

"If this goes according to plan, she will be your sister's mother-in-law."