I started down the stairs. Isabel was following me. My father was already in the hall. He embraced my mother, then me. Isabel ran into her husband's arms.

There is not a moment to lose." my father said.

"You must prepare to leave. We should be on our way to the coast in an hour."

"It's impossible." cried my mother.

"Isabel..."

My father was silent but only for a second. He looked at Isabel. Then he said: "It must be. Come quickly. Bring only what is necessary. We must get to the coast without delay."

We had always been brought up to obey my father's commands instantly and without question; and my mother had set us an example in this. But this was different. There was Isabel to consider. Isabel and George were clinging to each other, speaking words of love, and my father was impatient.

"Listen to me," he said.

"I cannot explain now except to say that my enemies are pursuing me. If I am captured it will be the end ... the end of everything. It is imperative that we leave without delay. Everyone ... the whole family."

"We cannot move Isabel and I shall not go without her." said my mother stubbornly.

"You will go!" insisted my father.

"And Isabel will go with us. You are wasting time. Believe me, I would not do this now if it were not necessary.

"Is it... the king?" began my mother.

"Anne, I am telling you. For God's sake, do not hinder me. It is necessary that we get away ... all of us. We must get to the coast with all speed. Do not argue. Isabel must come with us. Do you understand?"

"Yes." said my mother.

"I understand. But the baby is almost due."

My father sighed.

"I know that well. It will not be easy for her, but it must be. My enemies are marching to take me. It will be my head and the end of the family as we know it. So please do as I say. Get ready. We leave in an hour."

That was enough. Isabel was crying in Clarence's arms. She was terrified. She knew we were leaving the country and she hated the sea at the best of times. But now my mother had taken charge.

"Come along. You have heard what your father has said. Isabel, go to your chamber. Anne, get Ankarette to look after Isabel and to prepare at the same time. You have heard your father say we must be ready to leave in an hour."

Our thoughts were in turmoil as we got a few things together. There would have to be a litter for Isabel and that would impede our progress considerably. But the situation was dangerous. I heard my mother murmur: "Why does there have to be all this trouble? Why cannot men be content to remain where God put them? Why all this striving for power?" But the situation was desperate and if my father said he was in danger of losing his head, we knew those words were not idly spoken. We had heard of too many lost heads not to believe such a statement.

By the time the hour had elapsed we were on our way to the coast.

That journey is one I shall never forget. It was brought home to me then how quickly triumph can change to disaster. Only a short time ago the king was my father's prisoner and it seemed that all his plans were succeeding; then suddenly there was a complete change. It was incomprehensible that my father should now be fleeing for his life from the avenging armies of the king.

We were in imminent danger. We had brought the minimum of goods and servants with us on our father's orders. Ankarette came, as she was in attendance on Isabel and my mother thought she would be useful. We had to think how we should deal with Isabel as we should no longer have the comfort of the lying-in chamber.

Poor Isabel! I hoped the fact that Clarence was with us would compensate for her discomfort.

My mother and I rode with my father who looked very grim. He seemed to have aged since I last saw him. This was a bitter blow to his pride and I guessed he was blaming himself bitterly because he had let victory slip through his fingers.

But there was no time for brooding on the past. We were making for the shores of Dorset and messengers had been sent on to order that as many ships as possible were ready for us, so that we might embark as soon as we reached the coast. It was imperative that we leave the country at the earliest possible moment.

I wondered why we were going as far west as Dorset, as my father kept some of his best ships at Southampton.

So we rode on during that day, unsure whether at any moment we might be intercepted by my father's enemies and he be taken to London ... to the Tower, possibly to await his death. And what would happen to us? I was sure the king would not allow us to be treated harshly, but the idea of a life without my father was difficult to contemplate. It must not be, I kept saying to myself. It cannot be. My father was invincible. I had been brought up to believe that, and it was not difficult to convince myself now that it was true.

What a relief it was when at last we were in sight of the sea. Those who had gone ahead had been successful in commandeering a ship. It was enough. My father and Clarence directed us all on board. Isabel had the best cabin and could be fairly comfortable there, I hoped. I prayed that we might reach Calais before her pains started.

My father's being Captain of Calais meant that we should be sure of care and attention there and in the castle would be all that we needed.

I said to Isabel: "It is fitting that your first child should arrive in the very town where you were married."

However, it was not to be so, and we encountered further misfortunes, for when we joined my father's fleet at Southampton a further shock awaited us.

The new Lord Rivers, who had succeeded to the title when his father was executed, was waiting there for us. He had a score to settle. A battle ensued, during which several of my father's ships were lost. He decided that he would take what were left and get away before Rivers could bring in reinforcements.

The sound of gunfire was terrifying and my mother and I were with Isabel in her cabin where we tried to talk lightly, although we all knew that any moment might be our last.

"Your father always wins in the end," said my mother firmly.

"Once we are safe in Calais all will be well. How are you feeling, Isabel?" Isabel was not sure. She thought the pains might begin at any moment.

"Let us pray that we reach Calais before they do. It is not a long trip really and if the sea is kind ..."

We were away. The battle was over. I learned later that my father had feared that there might be trouble at Southampton which was the reason why he had arranged for us to embark in Dorset. He had lost one or two ships in the battle, but we should rejoice because we were on our way to Calais.

How relieved we were to sight land! Our father sent out signals. The Captain of Calais had arrived. He was waiting to be welcomed.

To our dismay we heard gunfire. This was amazing as Lord Wenlock, in charge of the castle, was one of my father's agents. A small boat was sent in to find out the meaning of this apparently hostile reception.

A message came back from Lord Wenlock informing my father that the king had sent orders which had arrived only a short time before the earl and his party, and these orders forbade him to allow the earl to enter Calais. Lord Wenlock greatly regretted this but he must obey the king's orders.

My father was nonplussed. He had come so far, only to be refused entry. This meant that he was no longer considered to be Captain of Calais.

He was in despair, and just at that time Isabel began to give birth to her child.

This took our thoughts from all other matters. The danger to Isabel was acute as the birth showed signs of being difficult, and we had none of the usual comforts to ease the delivery.

"If only we had some wine," cried my mother. That might help to soothe her and deaden the pain."

That was one of the most terrifying times of my life. I shall never forget the agonised cries of my sister. I felt sure she was going to die. I kept thinking of her as she had been so happy, so merry, so contented with her marriage, so gratified that she had so quickly proved that she could bear children; and now, here she was, on a none-too-calm sea without adequate provisions, in acute agony and in danger of losing not only her baby but her life.

At such times one realises how much one loves people and how heart-breaking it is to see those whom we love suffering, particularly when we are helpless to do anything to alleviate that suffering. Isabel and I had bickered often enough, it was true, but she was my sister, a part of my life, and I could not imagine being without her.

My father was at the door of the cabin. His eyes were anxious and I felt a sudden tenderness towards him. He does love us, I thought. He truly does. It is only that he is so busy fighting to keep his power that there is little time to show it.

"How is she?" he asked.

"Poorly," replied my mother.

"If we had a little wine ... even ..."

"You think that would help?"

"She could sip it and it has a soothing effect. It might even dull the pain."

My father sent one of the small boats in with a message to Wenlock asking him for wine for his daughter who was in childbirth. He said the man should be his friend but at times like these how could one know who was a friend? But he understood Wenlock must obey the king's orders. Warwick was no longer the Kingmaker; he was an outcast from England fighting for survival.

However, Wenlock did comply with the request and to my mother's delight he sent the man back with two casks of wine.