Richard held his breath. Edward remained dangerously quiet: not only had George insulted Edward’s in-laws, but the Talbots were not exactly in favor with Edward.

Oblivious, George persisted. “Were you sent a similar shummons, Richard?” He chuckled on a hiccup. “I like alliteration, don’t you? Shlips off the tongue.”

That tongue will get you into trouble, Richard thought, willing his brother to notice Edward’s darkening face. “I was to spend the season with my lord of Warwick, aye, but I confess I am happier with my own family and welcomed the chance to leave,” he said calmly. Let him soil his own braies, Richard decided, disgusted by George’s behavior. “I am grateful to you, Ned, for asking me to join you—Woodvilles or no. Besides, Elizabeth has been more than civil, has she not?”

Edward abruptly took a long stride forward and poked Richard in the chest. “Stop chattering like a jay. You have not been forthright with me, have you little brother.”

Taken completely off-guard by Edward’s vehemence, Richard’s throat constricted, as he searched for any reason for his brother’s outburst. “Wh…what do y…you mean, Ned?”

“Did I not ask you to report on Warwick’s actions and intent?” Edward growled. Richard nodded dumbly. “Then why did you not inform me that the earl had sent an emissary to Rome? Why did you not inform me that your brother here and Warwick’s daughter were secretly meaning to wed? Don’t look the innocent, Richard!” He pulled Isabel’s letter from his jacket and waved it in Richard’s face. “Did you not carry this missive with you, intending to pass it to George?”

The guilty flush on Richard’s cheek affirmed Edward’s suspicions. At the same time, Richard was furious that Ned would stoop to searching his baggage. He balled his fists and confronted his angry sibling. “I admit I did carry the letter, aye. Isabel is my friend, and I saw nothing wrong carrying a letter for her, in truth. And, and…” He fumbled for the right words, wishing to defend himself yet not wanting to betray Isabel or Anne. Most of all, he did not want to break his chivalric bond with Warwick. He had planned to tell Edward of Anne’s whispered words of the possible dispensation, but not like this. Not in front of George. And not under coercion. Besides, Edward would not believe him now.

“And what?” Edward menaced. “I am waiting.”

“I was waiting for a private audience, Ned, to report what little I know…”

Surprisingly agile for one in his cups and finally sensing the danger he was in, George sprang forward, rudely shoving Richard aside, and snatched the letter from Edward’s fingers. “If that letter is intended for me, then I should have it!”