That first night in the Buckinghams’ country residence, Dickon’s nightmares began. The horror of Ludlow was revisited in scene upon terrifying scene of leering faces, bloody entrails, screaming horses, hands that mauled his mother, and the vivid image of Piers Taggett lurching towards him waving his gory, shredded stub of an arm and crying out to the boy to save him. Then the ashen face of the devoted servant dissolved into the jeering face of Andrew Trollope who came towards him, shouting, “I have come to get you, Dickon of York… You traitor!” Dickon screamed so loudly, he woke himself up. George leaped from the bed and cried out for help. At once the room was filled with people Dickon loved; Nurse Anne was first to comfort him, but in a second, she gave up her place to Cecily, who gathered the boy in her arms, stroked his damp hair and shushed him. Meg sat on his other side and took his hand. That role used to be Constance’s, and Dickon was once more reminded he would never see her sweet face again and renewed his sobbing.

With all this attention, who could blame George for being resentful. George didn’t have dreams, he had proudly told Meg one day. “They are for girls,” he had declared. Now, George watched sullenly in the shadows as Dickon was fawned over.

“Babykins,” he muttered.

“Mam! I don’t want to go! Don’t let them take me, please.” Dickon protested one blustery day in March after six months in Buckingham’s custody. “I want to stay with you.”

The hand that caressed his head abruptly stopped. “You are a son of York, Richard,” Cecily said, upsetting him even more by using his proper name. “Behave like one!” Inside she was praying she wouldn’t lose her nerve, pull him close and cry herself. As though fate had not dealt the poor woman enough blows in the past six months, she was to lose her boys as well. Edward had entreated the Archbishop of Canterbury to take his brothers under the cleric’s wing at Lambeth and continue their education. All very charitable, but uncharitably Cecily railed silently at Ned. Couldn’t he have foreseen the pain it would inflict on her in this miserable captivity with her estranged sister.

“I will go gladly.” George’s voice interrupted her thoughts and she turned to him, surprised. “If Ned believes this is the best for us, then we would be ungrateful not to accept.” He gave his mother an angelic smile. “Besides,” he added, “this place is tiresome, and Dickon and I would dearly like to see London.” Dickon opened his mouth to protest, but George’s scowl stayed him.