I had liked Ankarette Twynyho from the moment she had joined the household. She was a young widow who had lived in Somerset before joining us. As she had recently lost her husband she was glad to move away from her village the scene of her tragedy.
She had been, briefly, in the queen's service and I think she found life at Warwick Castle preferable to serving under the imperious Elizabeth Woodville.
She was entertaining and used to tell us anecdotes about the queen which amused us and we came to learn a little about that strange cold woman who, when she had married the king, had set in motion those events which had been so disastrous to us all.
Ankarette reassured me now.
She said: "The duchess is not a robust lady, but she will be all right.
Everything is prepared and she will have the utmost care. I can see that the countess is a lady who knows something of these matters, and with everyone in attendance, all will be well."
"You comfort me, Ankarette." I said.
That's what I am here for, my dear," she said. I liked her Somerset accent and her easy manner with us all; and I could assure myself that, with my mother, Ankarette and all the others in attendance, Isabel would be safe.
Isabel took comfort from her too. It was Ankarette who would slip a pillow behind her back when she was looking uncomfortable and who came up with the drink Isabel was just about to ask for.
We were sitting in Isabel's chamber, for often she liked to lie down, and when she did she wanted us with her, and we were talking idly when we heard the commotion below.
I went to the window and what I saw made me gasp with amazement.
I turned and said: "It is my father, and with him the Duke of Clarence."
"Did you say ... George?" asked Isabel, rising. And there they were just a small company of men. I went to the door and I heard my mother say: "Something is wrong."
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 Isabeclass="underline" "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.