Page 77 of The Raven and the Rose
“Roseanna, my love, it took me so many years to find you, I’ll treasure you forever. Our souls are entwined; you make me feel whole, complete. Do you think I’d let anything destroy our togetherness?”
“Oh, darling, I love you too much. I cannot help being afraid for you,” she whispered.
He wanted to make her laugh. “There are only two ways I’ll die—on the upstroke or on the downstroke!”
“Darling, be serious.” She clung to him. “There’s no danger that the King will lose?”
“It all depends on who joins Warwick against the King,” he answered truthfully. “For instance, my own overlord, the Earl of Lincoln, has so far been neutral. His father was a staunch Lancaster supporter against the King, but he died last year. His son, the new earl, has never lifted his hand against the King. Edward always says, Those who are not against me are with me.’”
“I have Zeus back. You will need more than one horse if you are riding into battle. Take Zeus or Mecca.”
“I thank you, my love. I’ll take Mecca, for I know how deep your love runs for Zeus.” He kissed her roughly with the depths of passion he felt for her, then swung his long legs from the bed. “Love, I must go.”
She was bereft, but she loved him too much to burden him with hysterics. “I know it,” she whispered. “Godspeed!”
King Edward and his brother Richard, the constable of England, rode from York with their army. The first skirmish was at Stamford. Warwick’s brother John, the Earl of Northumberland, failed to support Warwick, and his other supporters in Lincolnshire deserted. As the rebels ran away, they cast off the livery that showed they belonged to the King’s brother George, the Duke of Clarence. The body of George’s servant was found with letters and written evidence that, aided by Warwick, the Duke of Clarence was trying to seize the throne.
Warwick and his supporters fled to the south of England, to Dartmouth, to his fleet of warships, for Warwick was still captain of Calais and master of the Channel Edward, Richard, and Ravenspur were about four days behind them.
When Warwick arrived at the coast for his ships, he had a nasty surprise. Anthony Woodville, the newly appointed Lord Rivers, had seized half his ships. The King’s proclamation not to give Warwick aid had already reached Calais, and the French port was full of Edward’s men. Warwick and George had to sail to Honfleur, in France, before they could set foot on land.
Roger returned to Ravenspur in May. He devoted the following two months to spoiling Roseanna outrageously. At the end of July, right on schedule, her labor began. Roger stayed dutifully at her side, rubbing her back, bolstering her confidence, and helping her bear the endless hours of wracking labor pains. Finally in desperation she said to him, “For God’s sake, Roger, please leave me! Go to the farthest turret of Ravenspur where you cannot hear my screams, for scream I must. Since I cannot bear to distress you, I’ve bitten my lips raw to stifle my cries, but I can hold on no longer. Go!”
He retreated with a bottle to blot out his deep anxiety. After two hours Tristan joined him; then after four Mr. Burke, too, sought their company and had the good sense to bring another bottle.
Roseanna’s labor was normal for a first child. Fourteen hours after she felt the first twinges, she bore a son and heir for Ravenspur. By the time the news of Roseanna’s safe delivery was brought to them, the three men were nervous wrecks. They came down from their high turret on shaky legs, vowing never to go through a similar ordeal again.
“Don’t forget Roseanna’s gift,” prompted Tristan, “not after all the time and trouble you took to have it made.”
Roger unlocked a coffer and took out a velvet box. Then the three of them entered the room where Roseanna was lying in. They were all grinning like lunatics as she held up her beautiful son for inspection; then before any of them could actually touch him, she tucked him back protectively at her side.
Kate Kendall ushered Tristan and Mr. Burke out of the chamber. “We’ll leave them alone for a minute, shall we?”
Mr. Burke turned to her and said, “You did real good, Katie,” and Kate actually bridled.
Roger looked at his wife, pale but triumphant, and said, “Roseanna, my heart overflows with love for you.” He gently caressed her and held her to his heart. Then he pulled down the blanket to have a good look at his beautiful son.
“I’d like to name him after both my fathers—Edward Neville,” she said.
He nodded. “We’ll call him Ned.”
She lifted her face to receive his kiss; then as his mouth went lower, she threw her head back, and his lips devoured her throat. Her hands slipped inside his shirt, and her fingers came into contact with the velvet box. “What’s this?”
She gasped as she opened the box. It was a magnificent necklace of diamonds and rubies with a large teardrop pearl to nestle in the cleft of her breasts. There were matching pearl drops for her ears. “Such precious jewels!” she exclaimed.
“Roseanna, you are my precious jewel,” he whispered.
“Hand me my mirror,” she urged him after he had fastened the necklace for her. As she gazed at the reflection of her creamy skin, her jet black hair, and her throat encrusted with the glittering diamond and ruby stones, she thought breathlessly, Iam beautiful
The christening was held in August, and a very lavish affair it turned out to be. The King and his Court arrived, as well as his brother Richard, Duke of Gloucester.
In actuality, the North was in an uproar, ready to flare like a bonfire. From Yorkshire to the northernmost border of England had always been Warwick country; Edward and Richard were on their way to York to shake their mailed fists at Warwick’s supporters.
At the banquet following the christening, the King presented Roseanna with the Queen’s gift. Elizabeth had stayed behind in London, but she had sent a lavish gift of gold plate for Roseanna’s new son.
“She is too generous, Your Grace,” said Roseanna with the utmost delight.
The King grinned. “’Tis my money she is generous with, my Rosebud. Ravenspur, now that you are starting your own dynasty, why don’t you let me raise you to the peerage?”
