Annoyed, Richard demanded, “How long have you been here? How did you know where I was?”

Anne flushed. “I…I always know wh…where you are, Richard,” she stammered. “You come here often.”

Richard rolled up the parchment and stuffed it back inside his jacket. “I come here for peace and quiet,” he told her. “If I had wanted company, I would have asked for it.” Damnation, he would have to find another more private retreat. Observing the downward turn of her delicate mouth and tears brimming, he was immediately contrite. “I did not mean to speak so harshly, Anne, but you do not need to follow me everywhere.” He patted the seat. “I pray you sit down now that you are here. Is there some reason for seeking me out today?”

Certes, there was, she wanted to tell him. She would like to be near him always, but she knew he would not understand, and he didn’t seem to care for her. If only she were as beautiful as Isabel… She pushed the thought aside and, tiny as she was, slipped beside him, the space only allowing her to have her back to the view.

“Do you have bad news from George?” she asked, eyeing the bulge in his jacket. “In truth it is about him I am come, Richard.”

“Indeed?” Richard cocked his head, his gray eyes curious. He certainly was not revealing Margaret’s information to the child and chose to answer her question with one of his own. “What has George done now?” It was then he saw fear flit across her face, and he patted her hand. “Tell me, Anne. I swear I will not repeat it.”

“You know Father and the king have quarreled, don’t you? I do not understand the politics and I don’t want to, but it is on a more personal matter which they disagree.” She hesitated, looking sideways at him for permission to continue. “Do you remember last Christmas at Warwick?” She saw him nod. “Did you know Father had invited George to come? I heard Father tell Izzy that he hoped to talk to George about a possible marriage between them. But the king found out about the invitation and denied George permission to visit us. Izzy told me George had written to her to say the king would never allow them to marry.”

Richard was now staring across the Cover valley, chewing on his lower lip. So that was the way of it. He began to piece things together. Christ’s bones, no wonder George was angry when Mary of Burgundy might have been thrust on him. He means to marry Isabel, and Warwick wants the match! The why of this escaped him for the moment, but whatever it was, it obviously had upset Edward enough to forbid the marriage.