He confronted Hastings at Crosby Place in mid-June after a supper with Buckingham, Jack Howard, and his son Thomas. Catesby hovered around his master, ready to do Richard’s bidding at the flicker of an eyelid. Jack Howard had long decided Catesby looked like a weasel and hoped he was less devious than his animal counterpart. A brilliant young lawyer and one-time servant of Will Hastings’, Catesby had inveigled himself onto Richard’s council by dropping Will’s name, making Richard believe he had come with the councilor’s blessing. Worrying for Jack, the man had already impressed Richard with his legal mind and become a member of the inner council. Keen to trust anyone with no ties to the old regime, like Buckingham, Richard had gladly accepted him.

Richard soon turned the conversation to the queen in sanctuary. “We must persuade her to release my other nephew or we cannot have a coronation. The people would not sanction it, and Edward is demanding to see his brother.” The others nodded in agreement. “Master Catesby here has kept me informed of any unusual visitors to my sister-in-law. I was not surprised to learn that Margaret Beaufort has been, as has her friend my lord bishop of Ely.”

“Lancastrians both,” Buckingham grumbled.

“Let us not forget the Woodvilles, too, were red-rose wearers until Towton,” Jack Howard offered. “Margaret is godmother to one of Elizabeth’s daughters, I believe, so perhaps she went to pray with the girl.” The group chuckled at the reference to Lady Stanley’s famous piety.

“But Morton is two-faced and often in the Beaufort woman’s company. I would not trust him as far as I could launch his paunchy body across St. Paul’s yard.”

“I would not lose sleep over those visits, my lord duke. They seem innocuous enough,” Hastings remarked, picking up a plum and biting into its juicy flesh.

Catesby glanced at Richard, whose frown silenced him. Richard turned to Hastings and controlling his rising anger, he said: “I thought I could trust you, Lord Hastings, but you have disappointed me in the matter of Mistress Shore. I had asked that you dismiss her.”

It was an odd non sequitor. Hastings was taken aback but, unsuspecting, he swallowed the piece of plum. “I regret I have not had a moment to explain, my lord, but be assured I have procured her a new house with my own funds,” he said, and as if to prove he was not underhanded, he took a chance. “She is now my…well, you know, er…” Dear God, he thought amused as Richard’s face showed no emotion, do I have to spell it out for the man? Still seeing no reaction, he explained: “She is now under my protection and no longer the crown’s concern,” and he waved his hand airly. “Rest assured, this has nothing to do with my loyalty to you or the king, Lord Richard. You can trust me.”