Richard snorted. “You are telling me? What with the Tydder lusting for my throne and the news that Oxford has escaped from Hammes and has joined with him, and wondering who will betray me next, I am well aware of the danger, I thank you.” Richard had, Francis noted with relief, taken his advice and spoken more quietly. “But I will not believe that anyone thinks I poisoned Anne in order to wed my niece.” He shuddered at the word. “Why, ’tis monstrous. And the council wants me to make a public statement that I won’t commit what I consider to be incest? By denying it, I will surely give credence to it, will I not.” He calmed himself, but he was greatly perturbed by this turn of events. “Francis, how can anyone think I would plot to poison Anne? Poor lady, she suffered enough and for long enough to be able to rest in peace now. Tell me, whence comes this tale about Bess?”

Francis pulled a chair forward and encouraged the pacing Richard to sit. He noticed the dark rings under Richard’s eyes, and it seemed to Francis that the weight of Anne’s death had given his old friend an even more pronounced stoop. “I warned you before Christmas that people talked of your favor towards Bess. I know, I know,” he put up his hand, “you were just being kind to her, but vicious people love to gossip and her attraction to you was evident.” He drew a letter from his pocket, and Richard frowned. “Read this, Richard. It was written to Jack Howard and, dismissing it at first, Jack then decided to give it to me. I was not aware Bess and Jack were that much acquainted, but it seems she trusts him.”

Perturbed, Richard nevertheless unfolded the parchment.

To my lord of Norfolk, my friend and my uncle’s trusted councilor, I greet you well. I write to beseech you to intercede for me with my dear uncle, that if he has a mind to marry again after the queen’s passing, I am willing—nay, desirous… Richard looked up aghast: “By Christ’s nails, what is this? It is fabricated, forged, fraudulent! Bess seeks to replace Anne, and so soon? She insinuated herself into Anne’s kind graces and all the time wished she were dead? She is not so unkind. It has to be a forgery. A monstrous jest!”

“Read on,” Francis insisted. “Bess is not false-hearted. ’Tis a girl infatuated, nothing more.”

Richard continued reading. He is my dearest love, as I have told you… “Damnation,” Richard interjected again angrily, “Howard knew this before and did not tell me? I’ll have his guts for garters.” He read on, …and I believe he has a fondness for me. “I did, I did,” Richard mumbled, “but as I have a fondness for all my nieces. Why must my actions be so misconstrued?”