The Forgotten Rose {COMPLETED}

Part I: Chapter Fourteen - Lady Mother

"Anne, I have a surprise for you," Richard cheered as he pranced into Anne's chambers.

"What would it be, Richard?" Anne questioned her husband as she walked towards him. The gold embroidery on her dress reflected the suns glorious rays as she passed the narrow window.

"I cannot tell you, it is a surprise," Richard chuckled taking his wife's arm."Come, Anne. We cannot take too long."

"Shall I like it?" Anne questioned him as they walked down the stairwell. She lifted her skirts so as to see where she was putting her feet. The steps were steep, and Richard had promised he would find the time to make them more accessible. Only that was not so high on his list of priorities. Even though Anne fretted that one day her son would be running, when he was older, and trip and fall because he was too young to take enough care. When her son came that was.

"I do hope so." Richard smiled. "You have been longing for it for years now."

"Is it? I don't know another fine horse for me to ride?" She asked. Richard shook his head with his smile upon his face he pushed open the door to his own chambers.

"No, not that," Richard told her, "but you shall love it." He let Anne walk into his chambers before walking away, she needed to be alone. He let her see the figure stood by the window. Tall, with a long elegant dress and a silk headdress. The dress was one Anne knew, she knew it too well. The dress brought back dozens of memories from her childhood.

"Lady mother?" Anne called rushing to the figure. "Lady mother, is that you?" The woman turned, as elegant as she had been when they had separated at the dock in France. Her face had not become so worn by her age, not yet, she was as youthful and as beautiful as every. With bright green eyes and hair with the same golden tinge as Anne's.

"My dearest Anne," Lady Anne de Beauchamp smiled down at her daughter, with the ultimate pride. Her daughter had grown into a woman. A fine young woman. She embraced Anne in her arms and kissed the top of her daughters head. Her fingers ran through Anne hair before cupping her face in her hands. "How I have missed you," she told her daughter as she kissed her forehead, just like Anne was still a little girl.

"You have grown beautiful," Lady Anne grinned as she let go of her daughter, "very beautiful."

"You think so, lady mother?" Anne asked still with a bright smile across her face, her mother had returned to her.

"Yes I do, and I am so sorry. I should have never left you with that woman and her son." Lady Anne cursed herself. "At least they did not harm you and now, now you have Richard. He was always a kind boy. He is a good husband?"

"Yes, lady mother. The most generous of husbands." Anne said looking fondly at her mother. She never though that her eye would set sight on the woman again. For the past two years she had feared the letter informing her of her mothers death. It didn't come. It never would. Her mother would live forever, or so she prayed.

"You could have done better," Lady Anne de Beauchamp laughed.

"Richard is a fine husband."

"Sorry, Anne. I forget how you are with these things," Lady Anne de Beauchamp chuckled as Richard finally cowered back into the room. He walked to Anne's side and she placed her arm around his waist. "I remember Anne once had a doll, I do not remember what she named it. But when she was around six years old she wished to see how long its hair should grow. Knowing hair grows when cut, she took all of the hair from its head with a pair of sheers."

"It was not my doll, if I remember rightly it was Isabelle's." Anne smiled at the ground as she spoke.

"Yes, I do remember that look upon her face, she was furious. She often was furious with you." Lady Anne de Beauchamp chuckled. "Then she poured wine down your best dress."

"And that made you furious."

"Yes it did." Lady Anne de Beauchamp smiled. The two walked to the table. They sat and like old friends talked of the past. Without the tragedy of Anne's father death, that of the little girl on the damned voyage and Anne's marriage to Edward. Like no pain had separated them, only distance. They spoke of court and of children. Of things any mother and daughter would.

***

Anne walked about her chambers. Soon she should have a son, perhaps she was already with child. It would be a month or so until she could be certain. But she was sure she was, she thought she could feel her son moving within her already. This son would be a fighter, just like his father and grandfathers. She should name him Richard for them. Or if it were a girl, she would name it Anne, for her mother. She knew her mother would like that. It would be a great thanks for all that she had done for her.

"You will be a good son?" She asked placing her hand on her stomach. "Your lady grandmother shall adore you, my prince."

"I know you shall be a good King, not only a man, a King of England." She whispered like the unborn child could hear her.

Jane came to Anne and began to removed her gowns. She unlaced and pulled her night gown over her head. Then she combed Anne's long hair and tied it back into her hair net. It had become routine to Jane, she knew just how Anne wished for her bed to be prepared and how her hair should be done.

"I do believe I am with child." Anne chirped to Jane as she finished her hair.

"I do hope you are, that shall be a great gift to Lord Richard."

Anne led herself to bed that night. She sent Jane away early, she was able to place herself beneath the bed sheets herself. Richard would be with her soon.

She settled into her bed no longer fearing what was to come. It was her duty and she had seen what profit it brought with the Queens joy at her child, Margaret. It did not even hurt so much, not with Richard and it would give her a son. A son to accompany her when Richard went to court. He would like that very much.

Anne rested her head upon the soft pillow and waited. She waited long enough, Richard was not coming to her.

She turned onto her side. Perhaps she was already with child.

She awoke in a moment. She did not know what woke her but as she tried to shut her eyes and fall back to sleep she found she could not. She rose from her bed, about the pace the room but then she turned to face her bed. A patch of crimson blood sat upon the white sheets.

"Jane." Anne screamed clutching her hand to her mouth. "Jane." She felt as the blood ran down her legs and onto the floor. She was not with child. Her son was not to come. She kicked the sheets back from her and tried to clean her night gown, but it only put more blood onto her hands.

"My lady." Jane questioned through clouded eyes. She held out a candle before herself to light Anne's tearful face. She saw the sheets and immediately tore them from the bed. Her lady should not see such a sight. "My lady, all is well. All is well. I shall fetch clean sheets and a fresh night gown."

Anne did not speak, she just shivered.

"We shall have you cleaned, My Lady." A serving girl brought heated water to Anne's chambers from the kitchens and poured them into the large wooden bath, which two serving boys had carried up. Soon it was full and steam began to rise into the room. Jane removed Anne's night gown. And allowed for her to lower herself into the bath. All the while Anne was silent.

"I am not with child." Anne whimpered with her head in her hands.

She she pressed her hands together and began to pray. She wanted a boy, she needed a boy. God had to give her a boy.