Both men stared each other down, but not wishing to give the king’s emissary fodder to take back to London, Warwick grunted an acknowledgement and then dismissed the captain and his prisoner. “You may tell his grace, the king, that I have not treated with Queen Margaret, nor would I have reason to. England’s interests—and thus mine—lie only with King Louis of France.”

When the two had gone, Warwick roamed around the hall in silence, leaving Richard to wonder if he, too, should leave. He longed to go straight to the chapel and ask God to forgive his lie, the first one he had spoken in his new role as spy. He did not care for the ease with which he had told it, and more unsettling was that it would likely be the first of many in the service of his brother.

But Warwick had not finished with him. “Were you privy to the summons the king sent me last week to attend him on this trumped-up charge of conspiring with the She-Wolf?” Seeing Richard shake his head, he continued: “I refused to take the accusation seriously and so made my excuses.” He jerked his head toward the door through which the prisoner had just exited. “Did Edward think that by sending me the man who had falsely denounced me I would change my story? How stupid does his grace think I am?”

“If your conscience is clear, my lord,” Richard replied, not fully understanding Edward’s motives either, “then you have nothing to fear.”

“Fear!” Warwick exploded again. “Fear! It is he who should fear me. I put him on the throne, but the young puppy ignores my experience and insults me with this feeble charade.”

“Edward is the king, my lord,” Richard said quietly. “He has not acted gracefully, but there is nothing any of us can do about that. He wears the crown and is our sovereign lord.”

Warwick stiffened, and Richard steeled himself for a roiling. Instead, the earl accepted the reasoned response with one of his own: “Certes, you are right.” His anger abating as quickly as it had arisen, Warwick appraised the young duke, liking his thoughtfulness and admiring his composure. “If I may say so, my dear Gloucester, you would make a far better king than your brother—as would the heir presumptive, Clarence. In fact, he and I spoke of Edward’s faults during our time together this summer hosting the French ambassadors. He, too, sees the wisdom of siding with France and eschewing the Lancaster-loving, self-interested Burgundy.”

Richard felt cold fear grip him. What was the earl insinuating, that Edward’s brothers might conspire to unthrone him? He blinked once or twice, but, not wanting to reveal his discomfort, he attempted a stoic stare. He could not wait to be dismissed.