"I will endure this no more." burst out Clarence.

"There is a conspiracy against me."

"That is not so, George," began Richard.

"And if you are referring to this Burgundy matter "My brother would not allow me to accept the offer. Yet that nobody ... that upstart, prancing Rivers ..."

"George, Edward knew from the beginning that Rivers would be unacceptable."

"He has insulted me. I am not good enough. I, the king's brother, the Duke of Clarence of the House of York ... yet that ninny ... just because he is the brother of that... witch! God give me patience. How much longer shall I endure these insults? I ... who have every right to the crown of this land ..."

"George, be careful." said Richard.

"You, brother. You are a toady. Edward is the king, you say. You dance to his tune. You are his favourite brother because you have no spirit. We should stand against him ... both of us."

This is treason." said Richard.

George laughed at him. The good little brother. Was it not always so? Edward is right. Edward is wonderful. We must obey Edward, even when he marries a witch. Edward could never leave women alone ... and he learns nothing. He is duped by that witch who would set her family up against us. This is the end."

"Have a care, George, lest it should be the end of Edward's leniency towards you."

"I shall endure no more."

"You have endured nothing. Mary herself will choose her husband. If she wants you, the offer will be made, and rest assured she will laugh the idea of Rivers to scorn."

"Our brother must be mad to allow his name to be suggested."

"Only because it will not be received with any seriousness." "Our sister Margaret wants me. She has said so."

"George, if Mary wants you, rest assured there will be a match for you with Burgundy."

"Edward will try to stop it."

"Wait and see."

"You and I should stand against this tyranny. Oh, I know you, little Gloucester. You would never stand against Edward ... treat you how he would."

"I have never had anything but love and kindness from him."

That's because you toady all the time."

"Would it not be better if you were a little more loyal to the king?"

George stalked impatiently from the chamber.

When he had gone, Richard said.

"You see how indiscreet he is? I only hope he does not destroy himself."

"If he is destroyed, he will have none but himself to blame."

"He is inflamed by wine. He will calm down in time."

"I hope it will be soon. He seems very eager to marry again although it is only a short time since Isabel died. I thought he cared for her. I know she cared for him."

"A lot of people have cared for George. We all did. I have told you often how Margaret and Edward doted on him. George cares only for himself. He is a dreamer of wild dreams. He sees a consummation of these dreams but he refuses to accept what is necessary to reach it. That is his trouble. He has already had a try for the throne with your father. He refuses to see that Edward has been amazingly kind to him, to take him back ... to treat him like I brother. Anyone but George would have learned his lesson. But George never learns. I fear for him and for us."

"Richard, you have so many cares," I said.

"I wish we could go .home and live quietly."

Richard sighed and I knew he shared my wish.

Clarence was certainly in a wild mood. His anger was directed mainly against the Woodvilles, and he decided to take the law into his own hands.

At first there were rumours which shocked me deeply.

I heard two of the women who had accompanied me from Middleham discussing Isabel and I wanted to know what they were saying about my sister. They were loth to tell me at first, but I insisted.

They are saying that she was poisoned, my lady." said one.

"Poisoned! My sister! That is not true."

"My lady, it is what is said."

"I want to know more of this."

The duke, my lady, is prostrate with grief."

Prostrate with grief, I thought! It did not seem so since he was proposing to marry Mary of Burgundy.

They say he is determined to find the culprits."

They could tell me no more. I asked Richard about it.

There will often be such rumours," he said.

"One should not take a great deal of notice of them. It may be that someone was saying Isabel was young to die and the rumour starts. People are always ready to suspect poison when someone dies."

"Isabel was never strong."

Richard looked at me anxiously. I guessed what he was thinking. Why should Warwick, the strong man, and his healthy wife, produce only two delicate daughters? I guessed that thought had often been in his mind. With Isabel's death, his anxiety about my health had been increased.

I went to him and laid my hand on his arm.

"I am going to live for a long time," I said.

"I must... for you and Edward. As for Isabel ... that last child, little Richard, was too much for her. She was not well before. She had already had three children ... the last two too soon together. This rumour of poison is nonsense."

On Isabel's death Ankarette Twynyho had returned to her native village in Somerset and decided that she would settle there among members of her family. I am sure Ankarette would have been very contented and would have become quite a figure in the village with her anecdotes about the court and people in high places.

She had served the queen as well as my sister and therefore Clarence turned his attention to her.

He must have been the one who set in circulation the rumours that his wife had been poisoned, and as his hatred against the Woodville family had been intensified by this recent rivalry for the hand of Mary of Burgundy, he decided he would find a way of calling attention to their villainy.

With a company of guards he rode down to Somerset and there found Ankarette. His men seized her and took her off to Warwick to be tried for the murder of my sister and her baby son.

Clarence implied that she was a servant of the queen and that the queen had sent her to my sister with instructions to poison her and her child.

He set up his own judge and jury who, on his orders, found her guilty of the crime and condemned her to death by hanging.

The sentence was carried out without delay.

When I heard the news I was overcome with horror. I had known Ankarette well. She was quite incapable of such a deed. She had been very fond of Isabel and had loved all children.

Clarence was crazy. Why should she want to poison Isabel? Clarence hinted that the woman was obeying the orders of her mistress, the queen.

Richard was both bewildered and shocked.

"What a fool my brother is!" he cried.

"He acts without thinking. He just wants to strike a blow at the Woodvilles and he does this terrible thing to an innocent woman. After this, they will work against him more than they ever did before. He has proclaimed himself not only their enemy but as a reckless, foolish man, a creature of no judgement. He will destroy himself."

I thought perhaps that would be the best thing ... for him and for us all.

"You see what he has done?" went on Richard.

"He has not only murdered this innocent woman, but he has behaved in a manner which would only be permissible if he were king. He has taken the law into his own hands, which no subject must do. He must stop this rash behaviour or he will certainly find himself in such danger from which even the king will not be able to save him."

As for myself, I was shocked beyond measure. I could only think of poor Ankarette, that chatty, lovable woman, hanging lifeless from a rope.

Mystery in the Bowyer Tower

It was a great relief to return to the sanity of Middleham. How thankful I was that Richard was lord of the northern marches, so that we could live there in the free fresh air.

There was a great welcome for us. The children were waiting to greet us. My anxious eyes went immediately to Edward. His cheeks were pink because he was excited and that gave him a healthier look. I was eager to discover how he had been while I was away. As for the other two, they were clearly in good health and spirits. I saw the pride in Richard's eyes as they rested on them, and also the faint anxiety when his eyes turned to our son.

Isabel's death and that of Ankarette had upset me a great deal. Isabel had never been robust but her daughter, Margaret, appeared to be a fine healthy child. I had heard that Edward, the Earl of Warwick for the title had gone to Clarence was quite healthy but lacking, so it was said; slow to speak, slow to walk. My Edward was bright enough; it was just that he was a little frail compared with his half-brother and sister.

I must stop worrying about his health, I chided myself. I must stop thinking about Ankarette. I must stop that dread I was beginning to feel concerning my brother-in-law. But having once been the victim of one of his mad schemes made that difficult. He was ruthless in his quest for power.

I wondered how long the king would allow him to go on wreaking havoc on the lives of those about him; and once more I rejoiced that we were removed from court and such intrigues.

Those were uneasy months. We had the occasional visitor from court and when we learned what was happening there my relief was intensified.

We heard that there appeared to be open hostility between the king and the Duke of Clarence, and that Clarence made a point ofstaying away from court as much as possible. On the rare occasions when he was at the royal table he ostentatiously inspected each dish which was put before him and refused all drinks. It was a studied manner of implying that he suspected poison. He talked openly about the manner in which his wife had been poisoned and the wicked woman who had been sent by the queen to perform the dastardly deed. She had been rightly punished, but it was those who had paid her to commit the crime who were the true culprits.