We should be married in England, for it would not be fitting for the heir to the throne to marry in a foreign country. I guessed that as soon as we returned the arrangements would be made. The thought filled me with panic.

How could my father have done this to me? But what did any of these power-seeking men care whom they used as long as advantage to them was the result? How I wished I had not been born Warwick's daughter. I should have been much happier as one of the village girls. I longed more than ever for those childhood days at Middleham.

In truth Edward frightened me. He kissed my hand as though with affection; he spoke to me caressingly; and his eyes studied me. What did I see there? A faint contempt. I would be unlike the women he had known. What sort of women would he like? I had heard of no romances. Perhaps he was the kind who visited low taverns, who indulged his lust with serving maids. I could think that very likely. I was small too young to be formed as a woman yet. My hair was my real beauty being long and fair. I supposed I was not ill-favoured. Both Isabel and I had been referred to as beauties. But that was a term applied to all princesses or ladies of the nobility especially when they were being used as bargaining counters in proposed marriages. I had an idea that I should not suit his fancies: he would prefer someone bold, practised ... not an inexperienced girl. Yet there were times when I seemed to detect a sly lust in his eyes and that alarmed me. I wished Isabel were here. If only there was someone I could talk to ... someone comfortable and homely, someone like Ankarette Twynyho.

But there was no one and I felt very lonely and full of fear.

Every morning I reminded myself: the marriage cannot take place until we are in England. And I prayed for more delays.

Edward spent a good deal of time with his mother. His stay with us must be brief, she told me. He should not delay long before going to England to claim his inheritance. Louis had been helpful, but getting money from him for supplies was not an easy task. He was notoriously mean and wanted some reward for his beneficence.

How glad I was when Edward left us, but now we ourselves must prepare in earnest for our return to England.

The winter is not the best time to travel but we set out on our journey. By this time it was the beginning of March and we were often hindered by the snow. We would be received at some chateau on our way and often found ourselves delayed by snow-blocked roads. It was a long and uncomfortable journey, but with the coming of April we found ourselves at Honfleur, to be confronted by a truly turbulent sea. We dared not risk the crossing while such conditions prevailed.

Each morning when I awoke the first thing I did was look out of my window. I would rejoice in that heaving mass of water. I would lie in bed at night and listen to the wind which howled and the waves which pounded against the shore.

We cannot go yet, I would whisper gleefully to myself: and I would try to shut out the memory of Edward's contemptuous yet lecherous eyes.

When messengers arrived I guessed they had something of great importance to tell us since they had braved the sea.

I was with the queen when they reached us. They were brought in immediately.

This time they did not come with smiles and good news but, as the bearers of ill tidings will be, they were hesitant to impart it.

Tell us your news," said Margaret sternly.

"I am waiting."

"Your Grace, my lady, Edward of York, with his brother, the Duke of Gloucester, Earl Rivers and Lord Hastings, have landed at Ravenspur and are marching on to York."

The queen closed her eyes. I went to her and took her by the arm. She shook me off a little impatiently, angry that I had assumed weakness in her. "Ravenspur," she said.

"Where is that?"

"It is at the mouth of the Humber."

"That is the north. He has ill judged his landing. The north was always for Warwick. What other news?"

"He has a force of two thousand with him English and Burgundians."

"Two thousand! What chance will they have?"

"I have to tell your Grace that he has reached the city of York and York has opened its gates to him."

"The traitors!"

"There are rumours that Edward of York has come back only to claim his dukedom."

"Impertinence," murmured the queen.

But she was very shaken, I could see. She dismissed the messengers and motioned me to sit with her. I did so. She took my hand suddenly and pressed it. And then we sat on in silence.

The days which followed were like a dream. The gigantic waves still defied us to do battle with them. All we could do was look out over that stormy sea to England and wonder what was happening there.

We had always known that Edward of York was not the man to stand aside and let the Earl of Warwick take the crown from him. He would rally men to him; the people loved him. He looked like a king; he acted like a king; and if he made mistakes, they were kingly mistakes. I had always known that the people would not want Henry. They might pity him, but pity should not be for kings. They hated Margaret merely for being a foreigner, if for nothing else, but there was plenty more to turn them against her. They did not want her or her son or her husband. They wanted Edward. There might be mighty kingmakers like my father, but it was almost always the people who kept kings on their thrones.

I learned afterwards what was happening in England.

My father had never really succeeded in ruling the country. People wanted a king, a figurehead, someone above them, aloof, because of the aura of royalty which they regarded as holy. A king must be a minor god who can wear a golden crown and purple velvet and on whom they can bestow their adulation.

There was something else which happened at that time. When Edward had landed, the Duke of Clarence had cast aside his allegiance to the Earl of Warwick and gone to Edward.

I can imagine his appeal.

"We are brothers, Edward. Should we be enemies? I was seduced by the earl. I listened to evil council. You are my brother, Edward. I want to serve you. Can you forgive me?" Surely it would have been something like that.

And Edward would forgive. When those who had served him ill came to him and begged for forgiveness, it was usually readily given. And this was his brother.

I wondered if it occurred to Edward that Clarence had come back to him because my father had set Henry on the throne after hinting that it was to be for him, Clarence? Surely that must have occurred to Edward? But, as I heard, readily he embraced his brother. It was like the parable of the prodigal son.

Richard talked of it later to me. He said: "It was always like that with George. He would do something very wrong and then he would beg for forgiveness. He was never denied it not by my brother nor my sister Margaret, whose favourite he was. Even my mother would relent for him."

So there had been another blow for my father. But it was more than that. The country wanted a king and who had the Kingmaker given them? Poor pathetic, saintly, half-mad Henry? Certainly not. They had Warwick to rule them. And Warwick, mighty as he was, lacked the aura of royalty.

What was happening in England, I asked myself as we waited there at Honfleur?

The sea was a little calmer.

"We cannot wait for ever," said Margaret.

"A great deal is happening in England. I should be there. We must delay no longer."

Prince Edward had joined us. He had gathered men and supplies from Louis and we were ready to cross. I heard that my mother was about to return to England and I was relieved also to be told that she was well. I wished that I could see her and could have been comforted by her presence all these months when I had been with the queen. But I should see my mother when I returned to England. I should also see Isabel.

The crossing was all that we had feared it would be and we arrived at Weymouth feeling battered and exhausted.

Sombre news awaited us there.

My father was dead. He had been killed at the Battle of Barnet.

At Warwick Court

It had happened just as we had embarked on that stormy sea. I could not believe it. To me he had always seemed indestructible. My poor mother, I thought. What is she feeling now? They had been deeply attached to each other. Although he was rarely with us, I had never heard of any infidelity on his part. She had brought him the means to become the man he was and I believed he was ever grateful to her for that. He had always treated her with the utmost respect. I think he cared for us children in his way. True, he had been about to involve me in a match which was most distasteful to me, but it was the rule for parents in his position to regard their daughters as instruments for bringing glory to the family.

"Warwick is dead!" We heard that everywhere. People talked of little else. He was no more the man who had been the most influential in England, the man whose power enabled him to make and unmake kings.

I felt lost in a bewildering world. My father dead! Where should we go now?

The queen took the news calmly. It occurred to me that, although she expressed her sorrow, she was not entirely displeased.

Warwick had set Henry up as king; he had carried out his part of the bargain. If he had lived, he would have wanted to rule. That was at the very root of his ambition. He had made kings that he might guide them and Margaret was not one to be guided. So now ... he had served his purpose. He had brought Henry back to the throne. And then ... he had fought at Barnet.