Frowning, his thoughts turned, as they always did, to the division in his family. Why did George persist in provoking Edward? And now it would seem Richard himself had become an object of George’s enmity, for during those summer and autumn months he had been laying up arms. Would George actually try to do him harm? Or his foolish brother might again be thinking of colluding with Lancastrians against Edward. No one, not even Richard, dared voice the treasonous insinuations, but he did not doubt the possibility. Rumors had even circulated that George’s name was associated with a failed invasion by the Lancastrian earl of Oxford in September, although nothing was proven. Even so, Richard pondered, did the foolhardy George still believe he could unseat his brother and take the crown?

Richard shook his head. How could he make George see the futility of his ambition and bring him back to the family fold? He was forced to acknowledge he actually did not want to; he could care less what happened to George. He sighed deeply, feeling helpless and angry at the same time; besides, he did not dare to ask God for any more favors at this point.

The loud wail of a shawm shattered the silence, and Rufus barked. For an instant Richard thought it came from heaven, and he crossed himself. The logical instinct was to reach for his sword, but certes, he had left without it. Was there an advancing army? Was it George? Nay, you fool, he realized happily, it must mean the babe has come.

He scrambled down from the ruin and ran as fast as the snowy ruts allowed him back through the postern gate, up the Round Tower’s steps to Anne’s chambers. He was met by his mother-in-law, wreathed in smiles. “Where have you been, Richard? Your son was born an hour ago, and you were nowhere to be found. I had to sound the alarm! But rest easy. Mother and child are well, and Anne was very brave.”

Richard let out a whoop, gave Countess Anne a smacking kiss, and barely knocked on his wife’s door before bursting in. A moment later he held his little son, swaddled up to the chin, and marveled at the perfection of the child, who stared placidly up at his father. Richard swore later that the baby had smiled. “He knows me,” Richard enthused, “and, I cannot believe this, but he looks like…someone, I could swear.”

Anne chuckled wearily. “Let me help you, my dear. He took his time, seemed quite content to come into this world, charmed everyone, and took to the breast like a duck to water.” There was a glint in her eye. “I, too, was reminded of someone.”

Richard laughed out loud. “Edward! He reminds you of Edward.”