He explained as much as she needed to know about the obstacles he faced and the intricacies of why Anne was the right consort for him, but he hastily promised his tearful mistress: “It has nothing to do with my heart. You have that, I swear. How could I ever forget our precious times together. You have taught me what true love is by loving me despite my having to forsake you now. But to honor both you and Anne, I must foreswear our liaison. One day, I promise, Anne will know of my love for you—and our children—and she will have to accept that I have a divided heart.”

“I think I understand,” Kate answered, sadly. “But I cannot help hoping my part of your heart will be the larger.”

Richard smiled in the dark, took her in his arms and cradled her to sleep. He wondered if the honorable Kate would love him still knowing he had so recently committed regicide. He prayed fervently that no one but he and God would be privy to his crime and closed his eyes.

“Let me dress you today,” Kate pleaded the next day, as they bathed together. “I want you to go to court with my scent upon your clothes.”

He kissed her trembling mouth, tasting tears. This would be the last time they would be naked together, and the ache in his heart almost translated into tears of his own. He touched the new ring he had given her; delicately filigreed in gold, inscribed with his chosen motto: Loyaulté me lie—Loyalty binds me. “Know I shall not forget you, Kate. And if you have need of me for anything at all, send me this ring and I will answer.”

“Fiddle-faddle!” Kate retorted, bravely. “Why would I ever need you, pray?”

When she had lovingly clothed him in his finest velvets and satin, he left her standing proudly in the middle of the room clutching the first love poem he had ever written. Before he could change his mind, Richard fled. So long as Katherine and John lived, he knew his love for their mother would never die. It was also a sad certainty that this was, for him, the close of a chapter.

Chapter 19

Chapter Nineteen

1472–1473

Edward watched his two brothers with growing impatience. His admonition to them during yuletide appeared to have kept the peace for the season, but the two dukes had circled each other for most of the festivities like a couple of rival tomcats.

The court had removed to Sheen, a favorite palace of the queen’s, and Richard’s fight for Anne had reached a climax. Still stuck in sanctuary, the pawn in the two men’s game awaited her fate, although her confidence in Richard never wavered. “’Tis what I like about her,” Richard had admitted to Rob after yet another visit to St. Martin’s in early February with no news of his success. “Her loyalty to me has not diminished despite my inability to win her. I must not let her down.”