Page 79 of The Raven and the Rose
George, Duke of Clarence, watched avidly as the ravishing woman rode up on the wild black stallion. She was wrapped in white furs, and her black hair, disheveled from the wind, swirled around her like a second cloak of sable. He felt his jaw sag as the full impact of her beauty hit him. So this was one of his brother’s women! No wonder he lavished gifts on her. Well, now she would be his to enjoy, along with the crown!
Roseanna recognized him instantly, though she had never before seen him. His extraordinary height and resemblance to the King were impossible to mistake. He strode forward and took her horse’s bridle as she dismounted. She did not curtsey to him but offered him his correct title. “Your Grace, what do you want here?”
He leered down at her. “You, now that I have seen you!”
Her eyes snapped, and she lifted her chin in defiance, but she kept a rein on her tongue. “If you are passing through, allow me to offer you refreshment before you leave.”
The smile left his face. “You know damned well why I’m here, you arrogant little bitch! My tight-arsed brother has escaped, thanks to Ravenspur—fled like the coward he is. Don’t try to deny it—the evidence of his army is everywhere. When did they leave?” he demanded.
“A week ago,” she lied.
He was secretly relieved that they were too long gone to pursue further. When he rejoined Warwick, he would keep his mouth shut about finding evidence. He’d keep the treasures of Ravenspur for himself! He licked his lips in anticipation as he looked his fill at Roseanna. His brother wouldn’t keep a whore who wasn’t well versed in the arts of the flesh. Her lush mouth and breasts spoke volumes.
Roseanna’s color was high as she stood amid the gaping mounted men. The Duke of Clarence remounted and leered down at her. “One day soon I shall return, madame.” His eyes narrowed, and he added, “I mean to have you.”
Roseanna was incensed. The man was vile! How could two brothers be so different? Now she realized why Roger had urged the King to put his brother in the Tower, and she understood fully Elizabeth Woodville’s venomous hatred of the man.Just wait until Roger returns,she thought heatedly. Then with hollow despair she realized what Roger’s exile meant.
The next morning, two half-drowned men-at-arms emerged from The Fens; one dragged the other, who suffered two broken legs. They insisted on speaking with Lady Roseanna before their injuries were tended. Her heart in her throat, she whispered, “You have news?”
“My lady, our news is terrible! The army took the Fen Road that leads along the shores of The Wash to the Port of Lynn. The wind was strong enough to blow the clothes off your back and cold enough to freeze the bones of the dead in their graves. The worst of the storm came up as we crossed the River Nene. It was a nightmare, flipping small boats over and drowning men and horses. The King and young Tristan were away safe on the first ship and the King’s brother Richard and Henry Percy on the second; but the hardest task was getting the horses aboard. Lord Ravenspur stayed to the last, doing the impossible as usual. But my lady, he went down ’neath that great white stallion. He didn’t stand a chance. Both of ’em are drowned, my lady. Saw it with our own eyes, we “No!” Her wail was heard in the farthest corners of Ravenspur; the servants came running in time to see her crumple to the floor. Kate Kendall immediately took charge and put her to bed. As she came up out of the blackness, she fought it to return to oblivion, for she knew full consciousness held something she could not face. She cried nonstop for three days, until her milk upset her baby son. Then she got a tight grip on herself for his sake.
Rebecca came to stay with her and found their roles were now reversed. Roseanna walked around like someone in a trance. Quietly she sought out Mr. Burke. “There’s no one else I can ask, Mr. Burke. Would you go into The Fens and try to find him?”
James Burke picked two stout stablehands and set out immediately. It took them two days to locate the scene of the disaster. In the end, it was the stench and the cry of the scavenging sea birds that led them to the bodies. It was easy to identify the body of the white Arabian stallion, but the bloated bodies of the drowned men were so decomposed that one could hardly be told from another. With superhuman effort, they half lifted the body of the horse. There, crushed beneath it, was what was left of the dark head of Ravenspur.
James Burke took the decision upon himself. They would take back no remains. He would not let her see or smell what had once been her well-beloved husband. When he returned, he took her into Roger’s library, where they could be private. His grave demeanor confirmed her worst fears.
“I found him,” he said quietly. “We buried him where he lay. It was impossible to bring him back through the waterlogged sedge and endless salt lands.”
A solitary tear rolled down Roseanna’s pale cheek. “How did you find him?” she choked.
“He lay beneath Mecca.”
Her eyes glazed over, and he could tell she had drifted into the past, where she spent most of her waking hours these days. He quietly left her to her ghosts.
Finally, Kate Kendall had had enough. She put pen to paper and wrote out a message to Joanna, Lady Castlemaine:
You will be relieved to know that the King and most of his nobles and army have safely sailed for Burgundy, but by now perhaps you have learned that Baron Ravenspur lost his life while aiding the King’s escape. I beg you to come to Roseanna. She is like the living dead, and I fear for her sanity. I pray that your arrival will snap her back to life, as she is numb with her grief.
Your obedient servant,
Kate Kendall.
In her chamber Roseanna stood listlessly as Kate helped her don a black silk mourning gown. Alice took up the brush to tend her mistress’s hair. Roseanna spoke plaintively as her son lay crying in his cradle: “Why does the baby cry so much lately?”
Kate compressed her lips in annoyance, then spoke up in her most caustic tone. “He cries because you neglect him! You’re not the first woman to lose her man, nor will you be the last. All this belongs to that child now, and he needs someone strong to administer it for him, not some pathetic shadow that feels sorry for itself!”
The words stabbed into her heart like the talons of a bird of prey. “Kate, how could you?” she whispered.
Kate sniffed and gave Alice a sign to follow her from the room. She would leave her alone to think about the accusations she had just hurled at her.
Roseanna went to the cradle, picked up the baby, and, holding him against her heart, crooned a soothing lullaby. She had fed him earlier, but she had not picked him up to cuddle him the last few days. She smiled down at him through her tears, seeing a small replica of Roger, and she whispered to him what was in her heart. “I’m sorry, my darling. I love you more than life itself. I promise I will be the best mother the world has ever known.”
She talked to him and hummed and became so absorbed in what she was doing that the world receded. The baby slept contentedly. As she put him into the cradle, she gradually became aware of someone screaming and crying far below. The commotion was muted, yet Roseanna was vaguely annoyed at the racket. How dared they disturb her? Didn’t they know this household was in mourning? She hurried down two flights to the main reception hall, and her heart sank as she recognized George, Duke of Clarence. He was having a furious altercation with Mr. Burke, whose cheek, Roseanna was horrified to see, had been slashed by the riding crop that the King’s brother carried. She could hear Alice’s voice begging, and Kate Kendall was shouting profanities in an adjoining room.
Roseanna strode past the duke and flung open the door. Two of George’s gentlemen had stripped Alice naked, and a third was holding Kate Kendall immobile from behind.
Roseanna spun around furiously to face George. “Stop them instantly! That girl is a virgin!”
