With Richard rode William Herbert, earl of Pembroke, who had also distinguished himself at Tewkesbury. The two men were about the same age, and Herbert would become a staunch supporter of Richard’s in the years to come. The roar of the crowd as they emerged from under the Bishopsgate caused their horses to shy and the pair exchanged surprised grins at the cheering throngs.

The colorful cavalcade was pelted with flowers—mostly white roses—and the air was filled with clarions and trumpets and the ear-stopping roar of “God save the king,” almost drowning out the pealing of hundreds of church bells. Riding in full armor upon a colossal gray courser and carrying a vicious war hammer, Edward’s majesty was almost mythical. It was as though Thor himself had come amongst them, although no one still believed in the old pagan gods.

Somewhere behind his brothers, George sulked, once again eclipsed by Richard at the head of the procession, and his resentment grew.

It was then Richard saw Kate at the front of the crowd, John clinging to her neck, and Molly holding Katherine by the hand. The little girl was jumping up and down with excitement, and his heart leaped at the sight of his little family. Kate took John’s hand and waved at Richard, who grinned back at her.

“Who is that?” Herbert asked. “She seems to know you.”

“She is an acquaintance of Margaret Howard’s ’tis all. I met her at Tendring,” Richard said with a shrug. A pang of guilt assailed him as he watched Kate. Could he not even acknowledge her or his children to William, who probably had a mistress of his own? He grimaced. What a coward!

But his guilt had more to do with his all-consuming thoughts about Anne Neville at the present moment, which he knew would hurt Kate far more than pretending to Pembroke she meant nothing to him. Once Margaret of Anjou and Anne had been captured following the battle, Richard had been relieved to discover that Anne and Edouard’s marriage had not been consummated. Not only would there be no rival heir, but Anne was free to marry again and would need a husband. Richard was now determined to woo and win her. Soon, his time with Kate would come to a close.

Without warning, there was a change in the crowd’s mood, and jeering replaced the cheering. “It must be for the She-Wolf,” Richard muttered, sorry that he had not prevailed to have Anne ride separately from the erstwhile queen. How shrewd of Edward to include Margaret in the procession, he thought. I warrant she wishes the carriage curtain sides were rolled down. He also wondered if George were wishing himself far away from his former ally. What would have been his fate had he continued to throw in his lot with Margaret of Anjou?