Richard’s resolve may have wavered a little when he was sought out by Kate’s father-in-law, Master Haute, one day in early October, as Richard was returning to Baynard’s from his daily studies at Lincoln’s Inn. Ned had been as good as his word and arranged for Richard to study the law under Justice Markham, known as “the Upright,” and Richard’s first foray into the law courts was to watch Markham try several instigators of a plot to bring back Queen Margaret from France. Those first months, Richard had struggled with the Latin, but as he read more and strived to understand the English laws, his fluency improved. “Dei verbum est legis,” he was able to tell his chaplain a few months later. “Indeed the word of God is the law,” the delighted cleric had responded.

The affable Martin Haute nodded when a page pointed to Richard seated under a tree, reading a page from a sheaf of papers. A tall athletic man in his late forties, the gentleman from Suffolk bowed and begged a moment of Richard’s time.

He cleared his throat. “Your Grace, I am Martin Haute of Chelsworth. My daughter-in-law is Katherine Haute.” He wished he had not acquiesced in seeking out the duke of Gloucester with Kate’s news. Why would the young man care, he had argued, but his wife, Philippa, had reminded him that Richard had been a guest in their home briefly and that Kate had come to know the duke at Sir John Howard’s manor. She had seen no harm in Kate’s friendly request. “’Tis an opportunity for you to be known to the king’s brother, Martin. It cannot hurt your career at court.”

Now facing the young duke, who had risen quickly at the mention of Kate’s name, Martin thought his mission foolish, but there he was. “Kate wishes to be remembered to you,” he said, “and she thought perhaps you would be happy to know her news. She has given us a beautiful granddaughter, born two weeks since. We insisted the babe be named Katherine after her mother.”

Richard felt as though he could float off the ground. A child? He had a child—a daughter. It took all his resolve to calmly put out his hand to shake Martin’s and say, “My congratulations to you and to your daughter-in-law, Master Haute. I trust Kate and her babe are well?” What he really wanted to do was dismiss the man and give out several shouts of joy. Instead he listened as Martin described young Katherine and how she was the image of her mother. May the saints be praised, Richard thought. The Hautes mercifully thought the child was their son George’s, who was blond-haired and blue-eyed.

The bell for terce rang and seeing Richard gather his papers, Martin bowed and politely excused himself. As he rounded the corner of the nearest building, he could have sworn he heard whooping.