Puzzled, Isabel watched him go. She liked Richard, but she found him enigmatic and a little secretive. Prettier, but not as clever as her younger sister, Isabel preferred the more direct, uncomplicated character of Rob Percy. However, she did selfishly enjoy Richard’s attention, although he was hard work, she had once told Anne when they were walking in the walled garden. Anne had responded with astonishment: “But I understand him perfectly. He’s the smallest, like me, and we are always trying to catch up.” A remarkably astute observation for a nine-year-old, it must be said. “It is horrid of you to let him think you like him.”

Flirtatious Isabel had merely shrugged. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone, but Father thinks I should marry George.” Anne’s eyes had opened wide and Isabel had taken her sister’s arm and hurried her away from the sharp ears of their nurse. “’Tis true. One day you will have to curtsey to me.” Anne had shaken her head in disbelief then and laughed at her sister.

As Anne mulled over the possibility in her mind now, watching Richard ride ahead, a thought occurred to her. “Then why should I not have Richard,” she muttered to herself.

Following Richard’s progress to the head of the cavalcade that fresh May morning, Anne determined not to give up. One of these days, when she was older and Richard was a man, he would notice her, she was sure. Who could blame the smitten girl for her plea to the Virgin to reserve Richard Plantagenet for herself?

In his confident new position at court, sixteen-year-old George of Clarence could afford to be magnanimous when the Middleham party entered the king’s audience chamber a day or two after its arrival in London. George clapped his younger brother on the back and pumped his arm in friendly greeting.

“Christ’s bones!” George exclaimed with a laugh, holding Richard at arm’s length and subjecting him to scrutiny. “You have lost your baby face and developed some muscle,” he said, squeezing Richard’s bicep hard and nodding his approval. “The northern climes have toughened you up.”

Richard grinned. “’Tis good to see you again, too, George. You must be glad to be on your own now. Meggie’s happy about it. She told me in a letter you had become quite unbearable in your impatience to leave Greenwich.”