By Loyalty Bound: The Story of the Mistress of King Richard III Read Online Free PDF

everyone. “You’re safe,” he said to Anne.
    “What’s happened?” asked Izzie, from where she sat on her flock mattress, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.
    “The Stanleys have gone. We saw them off!”
     
    Robert Harrington woke with a jolt to the familiar sound of an army on the move. For a moment he thought he was on campaign. Then he recalled that, as he had approached Hornby the previous night, and was relishing the thought of a tub of hot water and a hearty meal, he had seen that the castle was surrounded by Stanley’s army and he had been forced to take cover in the forest.
    He rubbed his painfully cold limbs to life. He had ridden ill-equipped for camping and had slept, wrapped in a horse blanket, on the damp forest floor. He eased himself up to a crouching position and grasped clumsily for the sword that was sheathed beside him. The steady tramp of booted feet and the occasional snicker of an excited horse came closer and he realised that the army was moving south. Why he was not sure. It could mean that Stanley had got hold of his young nieces, Anne and Elizabeth, but it seemed unlikely given the way that his brother kept them closely guarded, and would have guarded them closer still with the enemy outside the walls.
    Shivering, he rose to his feet and picked up his make-shift bed. His horse was tugging at the reins that tied it to a nearby tree. It too had heard the other horses and was keen to join them.
    “Shush,” soothed Robert, running his hand down the animal’s bony nose and over its soft muzzle, hoping that it would not give him away. He hoped that if he kept his hand pressed down, preventing the horse tossing back its head, it was less likely to give off a revealing whinny. And, with luck, the Stanley army would have no interest in pursuing some felon even if they did catch sight of him lurking in the trees as they passed.
    When Robert was sure that the last of the foot soldiers had gone he led his horse towards the road. It was churned to mud with the melting snow and the multitude of feet and, together with the distant sounds of the men, a steaming pile of horse dung gave testament to how recently they had passed. Robert turned his own mount north, gathered the reins and having pushed his foot to the stirrup pulled his aching body into the saddle. He would be home soon and with luck there would be breakfast waiting.
     
    James Harrington stood alone in the hall with the Duke of Gloucester. His earlier euphoria at the sight of the Stanley army disappearing southwards had been replaced by unease and the duke had echoed his own thoughts. Something more than their resistance had caused the withdrawal and another uprising was not beyond possibility.
    “I’ll ride to York,” said the duke. “If I need you I will send word.”
    “You know my loyalty to you is without question,” James told him. “Your support here has been more than I am worthy of. If you need me to fight alongside you then I will come.”
    The duke’s sharp blue eyes met his for a moment. James knew that he acknowledged the unspoken meaning that it was to him, rather than the king, that the Harringtons were loyal now that Warwick was no longer their lord.
    “I’ve sent Ratcliffe to the stables to see our horses are prepared. We’ll leave as soon as they are ready.”
    “But you will take breakfast first,” said James as a servant carried in some bread and set it on the trestle.
    “A quick meal only,” said the duke. “I would like to reach York by nightfall. And that means we will have to ride at speed.”
     
    Anne was in her bedchamber. She hadn’t been back there since the night the siege had begun. The bed was still unmade and her chamber robe lay on the floor where she had left it in her haste to dress. She picked it up and folded it before pulling the sheets and covers straight. Then she crossed to the window and opened the shutters to let in some slanted sunshine. In a moment, she thought, she would call for