Edward’s words struck a raw nerve with Richard. He had parted from Kate at Stratford with a heavy heart. She was radiant in her pregnancy but had welcomed him to her bed during the few nights the royal party had feted the bride. In whispered conversations after blissful lovemaking, the lovers had told each other of their hopes and fears, and Richard had promised to support Kate and his child, when it came. They had shared gifts—his a gold filigree ring and hers a French écu on a leather lanyard. “My father gave it to me. It came from Agincourt,” she had told him, slipping it around his neck. “It has brought me good luck. Mayhap it will bring you the same.” He had kissed her and told her he loved her. Coward that he was then, he had not told her he would always be faithful. It would have been cruel to explain about duty at such a sweet moment. He had made love to her instead. But Richard swore to himself that he would remain steadfast until such time as he would make a marriage befitting his royal status, which now brought him back to Ned.

Richard stared at his brother and did his best to concentrate, as one does knowing one is inebriated, but the drink also gave him unaccustomed daring. “Have you no shame?” he answered finally, not realizing he was shouting. “You leave your wife’s bed to go whoring? Is that the way a king behaves?”

The momentary silence hung like lead in the small solar. George instinctively shrank back in his chair, a small smile curling his mouth; for once it wasn’t he who had angered the king. Edward’s eyes glittered as he raised them from the jug to Richard, and the set of his jaw told of his ire.

“You presume to accuse me, your king, of bad behavior, my lord?” Edward’s measured tone fooled Richard for a second and gave him license to continue.

“Aye, Ned, I do. You told me once you loved Elizabeth. Seeking pleasure elsewhere does not bear out that love. You pledged your troth before God…” He got no further. Edward suddenly stood up, knocking over his chair and thundered his fists on the table.

“You insolent pup!” he roared, leaning in. “Drunk or not, how dare you! My marriage is none of your business. I am King of England, and shall do as I please.” He glared down the table at his youngest brother, who had initially flinched, but now rose to face Ned, the drink giving him courage.