Anne suddenly reached out and touched his left hand that was resting on the spotless linen cloth, and he looked up guiltily, as he did whenever thoughts of Kate trespassed on his mind. “Working on another problem, my love?” she asked, gently. “Come, why don’t you leave those headaches for tomorrow. Harry is our guest and deserves some of your attention. He is tired of my appraisals of everyone’s gowns, are you not, Harry?”

“Your taste is impeccable, my dear Anne, and so matches my own,” he boasted. He turned to Richard. “Is there aught I can help you with, Cousin? I have spoken with Lawyer Lyneham about Jane Shore’s punishment, and her penance will be carried out next Sunday.”

Anne gave a little gasp. “Penance? Punishment? What kind of punishment? And for what? You told me there is no evidence of witchcraft.”

“Aye, that appears to be the case,” Richard said, his face darkening. “But she must pay for her harlotry. Not only did she lead my brother a merry dance, but she went straightways to Hastings’ bed as soon as Edward was in the ground.”

Anne winced at Richard’s crassness, but she knew how much he blamed both Hastings and Jane Shore for Edward’s demise. “What is her penance then?”

At Richard’s hesitation, Harry gleefully enlightened her. “She will walk the streets barefoot around St. Paul’s in naught but her shift and carrying a large taper. All of London will bear witness to her shame.”

Anne said nothing. She stared at Richard, her eyes revealing her disappointment in him. She rose. “Goodnight, Harry. I hope you find your chambers comfortable,” she said and excused herself.

Richard’s gaze followed her from the room, knowing there would be more to say later. For now he changed the subject. “What do you know of Morton? I hope you have a good guard on him at Brecknock? I do not want him to have any chance to communicate with the Beaufort woman.”

Harry smirked. “Fear not, Richard. His lordship of Ely is well guarded and, isolated as my castle is in the Welsh hills, he can have no contact with Lady Stanley. By the bye, it was a brilliant idea of yours to allow her to carry Anne’s train at the coronation. If anyone believed that you suspected she was involved in the Woodville plot with Hastings, showing her such favor would have surely dispelled those ideas. It was a signal honor, and her husband was mightily pleased.”

“Have I ever told you that I would not trust Thomas Stanley to take off my boots?” Richard replied, pouring himself more wine. “We must watch him and his wife carefully. Remember, she is the mother of the so-called claimant to the throne, albeit my brother was astute enough to exile the brat to Brittany.” Richard sipped the ruby claret, savoring its sun-drenched bouquet.