Anne lay in her bed, tears prickling down her cheeks as she waited for what was to come. She squeezed her eyes shut as best as she could and tried to pretend to be sleeping.

Anne tried to focus on her memories, her only happy memories that had only seemed to keep her going since her husband's death. She tried to not think on what was going to happen but she couldn't. Not now, not like this.

She sniffed and turned onto her side, burying her face in the pillow to soak up the tears that kept coming back to blur her vision. She lay there, in the dark and welcomed it, hoping that it would last forever and keep her from harms way.

But it seemed to Anne that her happiness was always going to be short-lived. The door swung open, allowing the light to stream in and disturb her already restless sleep.

Richard stood in the doorway, his deformed repulsive body casted a long, dominating shadow into the room, reminding Anne of the same shadow that had lurked in the doorway of her chamber on the day he had wooed her. She tried not to shiver in fear as his heavy footsteps could be heard echoing into the room as he came closer to the bed.

He suddenly stopped and Anne could feel his eyes boring onto her, his heavy breathing piercing through the now silent air, the look of what must have been disgust on his face as he now stood at the end of the bed.

He grunted, turned and walked over to his side of the bed, sharply pulling off the bed sheets before heaving himself into bed.

The next minutes seemed to be the longest of Anne's life as the two lay there in silence. She tried to stop herself from shivering in fear as Richard suddenly said, "I know you're not asleep, Anne, so stop trying to pretend you are." His voice was deep, full of irritation and sarcasm. Anne didn't move.

"I said, stop pretending to be asleep because I know you're awake!" he growled, pulling her so forcefully towards him that the wind was knocked out of her.

She whimpered and Richard leaned over and kissed her on the check. Anne resisted the urge to shiver and vomit at the same time. He stroked the hair away from her face and whispered, "There now, I won't hurt you, Anne. You know I wouldn't." Anne whimpered again.

Either Richard hadn't noticed or had chosen not too because he stroked her hair again and whispered, "I love you, Anne. You do know that don't you?"

Anne nodded and sniffed, answering his question.

But, before she could even think of anything, Richard had pulled himself up and had placed himself on top of her, his arms on either side of her body. She was trapped. Richard looked down at her with fierce eyes. "You might as well stop trying to get away, Anne, you won't get anywhere." He stated, rolling is eyes in annoyance as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Anne took no heed in his "advice." She wriggled and squirmed in fear under her husband's body, desperately trying to get away.

Richard, however, paid little attention to his wife's pleas and brought his face suddenly down to hers, his mouth was fierce against hers, passionate maybe, but fierce. His hands were all over her, rubbing down her legs and thighs, trying to soothe the passion that was burning so passionately and desperately within him.

Anne tried to resist her husband's charm but found herself to be failing quite miserably. She willingly obeyed her husband's movements, her hand raising up to stroke his cheek. She thought back to her childhood at Middleham and remembered how much they have then loved each other. Back then; she would have given anything to have him hold her like this. But those times were gone, and the Richard she had loved had left too, for good. Now, however, she wanted anything but for him to be holding her like this, loving her like this, touching her like this…

At last, Anne was eventually able to pull her mouth away from his, crying out in a pain so desperate and urgent that she wished that she had not said it at all.

"Richard! Please, stop! You'll hurt the baby!"

And it was then, that he listened to her pleas, and stopped.