Anne dimpled. “And if the Pope says yes, Father says he wants you and me to be married, too.” Her pert smile vanished as she watched Richard’s face fade from pale to furious white. “Are you all right, Richard? I thought you’d be pleased.”

“For the sake of our friendship, I shall pretend I did not hear what you just said, Anne. Now, pray excuse me.” And shaking off her hand, he brusquely pushed past her and sped down the stairs out into the balmy evening air.

Sweet Jesu, Warwick is seeking dispensation in secret against Edward’s barring of the marriage, he thought. Should I believe Anne? Surely the earl would not get away with such a flagrant defiance of the king’s command. The trusting boy in him did not want his hero to fall, and he was not yet mature enough to know that powerful nobles like Warwick would hold on to power regardless of cost. Richard had never yet experienced real power, and thus had not yet been seduced by it. Inevitably, all men of his high birth would at some time in their life feel its pull, and Richard would be no exception.

But for now, as he went towards the tiltyard to find young Lovell and, more importantly, Rob Percy, Richard’s young heart felt as though a briar had wrapped its thorny vine around it. He faced a terrible choice. He had sworn fealty to Warwick as his lord until his apprenticeship ended, but he had also sworn an eternal oath of loyalty to his brother, the king.

For the first time since he had come north, Richard wished himself far away from it.

Chapter 12

Chapter Twelve

Autumn 1467

Richard’s wish was answered as though he had a direct line to God. Edward summoned him to London in September, and Rob Percy was given leave by Warwick to accompany Richard.

Warwick’s parting words to Richard were curt. “Convey God’s greetings to my cousin. Tell the king that I keep the north safe for him, but there are many disloyal to His Grace, as he well knows, including those Percies. Here is a letter I would have you deliver.” He lowered his voice that now had a bitter edge. “I pray your brother heeds my warnings that by dealing with Burgundy and treating with Brittany, he may have trouble from Louis. He did not listen to me earlier this year, but perhaps he summons you to discover what the way of it is with me. Tell him the truth: I am his loyal subject.” He paused and gripped Richard’s arm. “And remember, you are mine.”

“Your servant, my lord,” Richard replied, bowing. “I will be honored to do your bidding.” His face gave away nothing, but the unpleasant knot of conflict gripped his heart once more. Taking the letter, he stowed it in his saddlebag next to one Isabel had begged him to give to George.