The queen had no recourse in the face of such diplomacy and flounced from the room, followed by her family and Will Hastings, who acknowledged Richard’s wise decision with a quiet, “’Twas well done, my lord.”

When the door was closed, Richard waited for Ned to say something—perhaps even reprimand him. He suddenly noticed Ned’s shoulders were shaking, and thinking his brother was laughing, he took a step forward. “Ned,” he said, “Ned? Are you all right?”

But when Edward turned to face his brother, Richard was horrified to see that Edward was weeping. “Dear God!” Richard exclaimed, and the youngest York took the eldest into a close embrace and let his big brother cry.

“They have twice as many men as we have, Your Grace,” Will Hastings informed the king a few days later. He cursed the slow intelligence of the rebels’ movements, but when the hoped-for reinforcements from the earls of Devon and Pembroke did not appear, the usually even-tempered chamberlain was nervous. “If you want my advice, you will send your in-laws away. They are part of the grievances laid out by Redesdale and his followers. Aye, even Elizabeth. You have allowed her family to exploit their position, and their presence is only aggravating resentments here.”

Richard had become accustomed to the familiar way Hastings addressed the king. He recognized the informality came from the same degree of trust he himself had in Rob Percy.

“I agree, Ned. Let the people see the Woodvilles have no influence. Listen to the people’s grievances,” Richard begged, “they do not want to fight. They complain they have fought too many battles already for a cause that is not their own. They have been forced to leave their homes to fight those battles, paid too many taxes to fund the fighting, and have no food to feed their families. And they blame the Woodvilles. They have had enough and are wanting you to listen.”

Edward studied his steepled hands and nodded slowly. “Elizabeth will not like it, but I will send them away.” He looked up at his two advisors. “What then?”

“I cannot believe Warwick wants to attack you,” Richard said, “and I do not think you believe it either, Ned, or you would not have just put him in charge of our fleet to ward off the French. He is patrolling the Channel protecting us. It does not make sense.”

“Astute thinking, Richard,” Edward said, grateful for this brother’s wisdom and loyalty. “We know the rebels are led by Warwick’s adherents, so who do you think is giving them their orders?”

Richard shrugged. “There are so many Nevilles—from both branches of the family,” he said. “Perhaps these are from the Stafford line not our Beaufort one.”

But all three men knew in their hearts that Warwick was the culprit, although the earl’s two cousins wanted desperately to believe otherwise.