To my surprise and delight, Ned did return several more times in close succession, bringing little Anne and Edward with him the third or fourth time. "They're precious!" I exclaimed as we sat beside the lake watching his children toddle around.

"Thank you," he replied. "They're the one good thing to come out of my marriage."

"But didn't you and your wife love one another?"

"I loved her," he told me. "But from the moment we wed, she was never faithful to me." His face became grim. "The son she gave birth to only weeks before her death is my nephew."

It took me just a moment to realize what he was telling me. "You mean...with your own brother?"

He nodded glumly.

"Oh, Ned, I'm so sorry!" I exclaimed.

"It's all right." He smiled. "The whole experience has only made me appreciate virtuous women more."

Something occurred to me. I looked closely at Anne and Edward as they played, searching for Ned's features in their faces.

"They're both mine," he told me, answering my unspoken question. "At the time of Anne's conception, we were on vacation in Scotland, alone together with no contact with anyone else, and after our daughter's birth, she was ill for an extended period of time and so didn't seek the company of other men during that time. Edward was conceived quite by accident toward the end of her illness."

"I've always wondered what it would be like to be a wife and mother," I mused. "I had hoped to bear a son who would be next in line to the throne behind His Royal Majesty Prince Edward."

"Mothers of princes don't always fare well. Look what happened to His Majesty's mother," Ned pointed out.

"Death in or following childbirth is a risk faced by any woman in any station in life," I replied. "To me, it would have been worth it to provide England with another heir. However, I would much rather have died in childbirth than to have given the King yet another daughter."

"At the risk of sounding unkind, I'm rather glad you didn't become King Henry's fourth Queen," he told me. "I would have greatly feared for your future welfare."

Was it true, then, that he really did care for me? Did he not share the King's opinion that my face resembled that of a horse? Dare I hope?


As it turned out, Ned's intentions did indeed prove to be sincere. He continued to visit me regularly, often bringing romantic gifts such as flowers, sweets, or even an occasion book of poetry. One day we were walking together in the garden when he suddenly dropped to one knee and asked me to marry him.

We were wed a short time later at St. Peter's church beside my home. After the priest pronounced us husband and wife, he lifted my veil and kissed me for the first time. In contrast to the chaste kisses the King had formerly placed on my lips every morning, his held the promise of intimacy to come.

"We're truly a family now," I said as I embraced young Anne and Edward in turn. I'd grown very fond of them and hoped to be able to fill in the void left by their mother's death.

That night I waited in my bed chambers in anticipation for Ned to come to me. I knew virtually nothing of the ways of husbands and wives, and along with my eagerness to share my love with my new husband was the fear that it might be painful, or that I might not please him.

At last I heard the soft rustle of the curtains parting, and Ned stood before me dressed in only his nightshirt. The outline of his muscles against the thin fabric filled me with an unfamiliar but exhilarating ache. He came to me and pulled the sheet down, gazing at my body, which was clad only in a thin shift, with an unbridled desire in his eyes that made my heart leap with joy.

"You're beautiful," he whispered. His hands caressed my body as he kissed me with abandon, his tongue mingling with mine. He joined me in bed and lay atop me, his hands still eagerly exploring every niche and crevice of my form. Within moments, both my shirt and his nightshirt had been removed, and my fingers moved slowly over his chest, feeling the soft down that covered it, as his caressed my breasts, causing my nipples to become erect, until he deftly slipped one hand between my legs to fondle my most intimate parts.

Pleasure such as I'd never known before surged through me as I felt an unfamiliar moisture flow, and suddenly his finger touched my most sensitive spot, which caused me to arch my back in ecstasy.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Oh, yes!" I gasped.