Richard had almost choked on his wine. “You know?” he sputtered. Sweet Jesu, but this was not going well. He gathered his wits. “My dear, I am sorry that you have heard of my liaison from another and not me; I intended to wait for a more appropriate time to tell you. Certes, I would not be cruel enough to speak of it tonight. All I will say is that she is part of my past, but you are my present and my future. Please believe me.”

He had reached over and stroked her cheek, holding her eyes with his for a long moment before slowly drawing his shirt over his head. “My bigger secret is this,” he had confessed, turning his torso so that she might see the unsightly protrusion below his shoulder. He heard her soft gasp.

Swiveling back to face her, he had said. “I was afraid you would not marry me.” He lowered his eyes, expecting her to ask what sin of his was so dire that God had punished him thus. But Anne was silent for a moment and then she had thrown herself into his arms, saying: “Do you think you are the only one with a flaw in your body, my dear? It is you I love, not your back. None of us is perfect, Richard; my breasts are too small, and I have my father’s nose.” When Richard laughed, Anne had chided him. “Did you think I was such a whey-faced milksop that I would flee from you for this? You must learn to have faith in me, my dear. I am not Isabel; I am more my father’s daughter than she is. Trusting me with your secret only means I will love you all the more.”

Then they had embraced and caressed each other until Anne pulled away and removed her shift. “I want you to make love to me, Richard. I want you to truly be my husband.” She had put one of his hands on her breast and sighed when he fondled the pert nipple. The rest had been easy and natural.

How grateful he was as he now watched her canter away to be the first reach her beloved Middleham. He must not ever betray Anne’s trust, he vowed.

Riding into the familiar courtyard, Richard could not help but remember the happy years he had spent training as a knight under the castle’s hulking walls. How would he be greeted by Warwick’s servants? Were they still loyal to the earl? Would they reject and resent their new lord, especially as Richard had been Warwick’s enemy at Barnet? He sat straight in his saddle and rode up to the long steps leading to the great hall. Anne had already dismounted and was being fondly greeted by Middleham’s long-serving steward. Richard waited his turn. He was Anne’s husband now, and lord of Middleham, and yet he was unsure of his own welcome.