‘The last battle,’ he said, ‘has been won at Hexham. Poor Henry is wandering from place to place fearful of capture. They will get him of course and then ...’

They looked at him wanting to know what would happen when Henry was captured.

Richard said: ‘My brother will know what to do.’

His brother always knew what to do. How wonderful he had been at his coronation – but not aloof by any means. Ever ready with a smile and a nod of approval every time his eyes fell on his young brother. Looking a little anxious as he touched the boy’s shoulder, wondering whether his armour was too heavy for him, asking how he fared at Middleham.

Richard remembered how, after the second battle of St Albans, he and George had been sent to Utrecht by their mother. That had been one of the most unhappy times of his life because he had known that Edward must be in difficulties for them to be sent away. But it had been a short stay – they left in February and as soon as Edward was proclaimed King he sent for them.

What joy to see him again! He was even grander than before – a King indeed. When Richard spoke his name – and he invariably said ‘My brother’ – George had said it was as though he were talking of God.

Edward was a god – Richard’s God.

Richard would never forget the time when he and George had been sent to the house of John Paston when their mother went to join their father at Hereford. It had been sad to part from their mother and go into a strange house; but Edward had been in London and every day he had called at the Paston house to see his young brothers.

George had said: ‘So he should. We’re his brothers, are we not?’

‘But it is wonderful that he has time to see us ... that he makes time to come,’ Richard pointed out.

George shrugged his shoulders. Richard read the thoughts in George’s eyes. He was jealous. He was always talking of the perversity of fate which brought people into the world at the wrong time. George thought that if he had been the firstborn he would have been as wonderful and as suitable to be King as Edward.

What nonsense!

They lay on the grass together – he, Anne and Francis Lovell; they looked lazily from the wide expanse of sky to their horses standing quietly by. This was contentment. These were the people he loved. If Edward came riding over the rough grass now he would be completely content. Francis and he understood each other; he had made Francis aware of Edward’s greatness and Francis, being his very good friend, accepted what he said. Anne’s father, the great Earl of Warwick, was Edward’s staunchest supporter. It was a lovely cosy feeling to be among friends.

‘Dickon is so proud of his new badge,’ said Anne. ‘You kept touching it, Dickon,’ she added.

‘It is a rather nice one,’ said Richard.

‘Read it out to us,’ said Anne because she knew he liked to do that.

Richard read loudly and clearly: ‘Loyaulté me lie.’

Anne clapped her hands. ‘It is the most honourable thing in a man,’ she said. ‘Loyalty to what he believes in.’

‘It means,’ said Richard with a faint colour in his usually pale cheeks, ‘Loyalty to the King. That is my brother Edward. My loyalty to him will never falter.’

‘You are so proud of being brother to the King,’ she said, smiling at him.

He nodded and she thought: I suppose I must be proud to be the daughter of the Kingmaker. But one did not mention the Kingmaker to Richard. He did not like the suggestion that his godlike brother owed anything to anyone – even Anne’s father.

But she knew that he delighted in the friendship of her father and his brother.

Francis looked at the louring clouds and said he thought they should go back to Middleham.

When they reached the castle there were signs of activity there. There had been important arrivals. Richard’s heart leaped with hope. Perhaps it was Edward.

It was not, but it was the great Earl himself.

He was in a strange mood and it was clear that he was displeased about something. The mood of the great man must affect the entire castle and everyone was clearly rather unhappy.

Richard wondered whether he might ask what was wrong. He was about to but the Countess threw a warning glance at him, and he was silent.

He did say: ‘My lord, have you seen my brother of late?’

‘I have indeed,’ was the answer, and it sounded like a growl. It was clearly forbidding Richard to say more.

The Countess was eager to discover what had happened and when the Earl told her she could scarcely believe it.

‘It’s true,’ he said. ‘We’re going to have a coronation. Richard should prepare to leave for London at once.’

‘Elizabeth Woodville! I cannot believe it.’

‘Nor could any of us until it was shown to be true. We thought he was joking.’

‘But he has had so many mistresses ... why marry this one?’

‘By all accounts marriage was a condition of surrender and he was so bemused he gave way to it. I begin to wonder whether I have put the right man on the throne.’

That her husband was more disturbed than he betrayed himself to be, the Countess was fully aware. He had governed the King for so long that this was a bitter surprise when the King turned on him and made it quite clear that in future he would manage his own affairs.

‘It’s disaster,’ said Warwick. ‘The Woodvilles ... the woman’s rapacious mother ... You’ll see what happens. We shall have the Woodvilles everywhere and they are a large family.’

‘The King will quickly tire of her. He always tires of them.’

‘That is our hope. Then of course we must see about arranging a divorce and a new marriage which will bring good to the country.’

‘Richard, what are you going to do?’

He looked at her steadily. He was not accustomed to discussing affairs with her. He was very fond of her. She had been the best possible of wives. He should be grateful, for as one of the biggest heiresses in the country she had brought him the title of Warwick and the vast wealth which had helped to make it possible for him to rise to his present position.

He said: ‘I do not know. So much will depend on what comes from this.’

That was the truth.

He sent for Richard.

‘You must prepare yourself to leave for London,’ he told him. ‘A most distressing thing has happened. Your brother ...’

Mists swam before Richard’s eyes. He grasped at the table by which he was standing. Something had happened to Edward and the way in which Warwick was looking might indicate that he was no longer the King’s friend.

‘My brother ...’ he murmured, for Warwick had hesitated.

‘It is so grievous that I can hardly bring myself to speak of it. Your brother has married ... without consulting the Council ... without consulting me!’

‘Married to ... to Bona of Savoy?’

‘Good God no. If only it were so. He has married a woman of low birth. A most unsuitable alliance. His wife is Lady Grey, Elizabeth Woodville daughter of Lord Rivers.’

‘But I thought it was to be a French marriage.’

‘So did we all. So should it have been. But your brother has taken this rash act.’

‘What will happen?’

‘That remains to be seen. At this time we have this marriage. It is a true one and cannot be denied. So now we have a Queen ... Queen Elizabeth Woodville.’

Warwick managed to force a great deal of contempt into his voice.

‘I am sure my brother ...’

‘There is one thing you can be sure of. He has made a great mistake and we do not know what the outcome of this will be. And now we have to attend her coronation, God help us. God help the nation. God help the King. The folly of it is past understanding.’

Richard was angry. He hated Warwick in that moment. He drew himself up to his full height which was not very great and fingering the badge on his jacket he said: ‘I am sure that whatever my brother has done is right.’


Richard was dismayed on arriving at Baynard’s Castle where he was to join his mother to find that she was in a furious mood.

George, who was already at the castle, told him that she had been so since she had heard the news of Edward’s marriage.

‘She says she will never take second place to the low-born Elizabeth, even if she is the Queen.’ Clarence was amused. Richard had always known that he enjoyed discomfiture in others.

‘And why should she?’ he demanded. ‘She is of our royal blood. And this woman ... she is a nobody. I cannot understand what possessed Edward.’

‘Edward would not have married her unless he had a very good reason for doing so.’

That made George laugh. ‘He has his reasons most certainly. She must have something very special to tempt him.’ His eyes were speculative. ‘I wonder what.’

Richard hated any references to Edward’s sexual life. It did not quite fit in with the noble qualities with which he had endowed him.

‘I am sure,’ he said staunchly, ‘that Edward has acted wisely. We shall discover that to be so in due course.’

‘You are a foolish boy, Richard. You see no further than your nose. What are all the noble families going to say? What is the King of France going to say? And what is Warwick going to say?’

‘He will serve the King as all good men should.’

‘There is one thing I know. Edward’s most faithful subject is his brother Richard. You’re going to wake up one day, brother, and you will find that your god is only human after all.’

Richard was silent. There were times when he heartily disliked George. He himself was certainly uneasy about the marriage but he had made up his mind that if Edward wanted it he was going to want it too.