And so with the gleaming, whitewashed walls of the Tower standing sentinel across the river, a universally awkward conversation took place that left Dickon more than adequately educated but frightened enough to decide he would just as soon avoid the opposite sex altogether. Ned had a twinge of guilt that perhaps the boy was a little young for the facts of life—a notion his Father verified in no uncertain terms when the topic came up a few months later—but at the time, Ned’s confidence had led him to believe the instruction had been for the best.

Dickon had had his nose pressed against the upstairs solar window of Falstoff Place most of the morning waiting, while George pretended nonchalance and played chess with one of the gentleman attendants. But the pawns went flying as soon as Dickon squealed, “They are come, George. Mother and Meggie are here!” and he was right behind his brother, running down the staircase through the great hall and out onto the front steps of the cobbled courtyard.

Edward was already there watching as a groom opened the door to the cumbersome carriage. A huge wolfhound, glad to be set free from such a confined space, bounded out, pulling Meg on his leash behind him.

“Down, Ambergris!” Edward called crossing the courtyard in three long strides to take hold of his ecstatic hound. “And who is this beautiful young woman you have brought with you?” Meg raised an eyebrow and said archly, “You cannot flatter me as easily as you do other women, Ned. Come, give me a kiss.” She did not protest, however, when her brother picked her up as though she were still a child and bussed her cheek.

“Pray help me out of here!” Cecily called to her son, her tall, still-lithe frame filling the doorway of the carriage, “I swear every bone in my body is broken.” Edward let Margaret go and lifted his mother like so much goose down, setting her gently on the ground. Cecily gazed up at her oldest son, his gold-red hair curling nonchalantly to his shoulders and his handsome features all smiles. Sweet Mother of God, I sent him away a boy at Ludlow and he has returned a man, she thought. Ruefully, she acknowledged that the first battle would always do that to a youth. Edward had tasted blood at Northampton and had acquitted himself well.

“God’s greeting to you, Mother,” Ned said, kissing her hand, “we are all delighted to see you and to welcome you to your new home away from home.”

“Do not remind me. I should be at Baynard’s,” she grumbled. Among the confiscations of York property after Richard’s attainder, the loss of her favorite Baynard’s Castle by the river was one of the bitterest for Cecily. Looking at the new house, she was not displeased, but before she could compliment Ned on his choice, she was almost knocked over by her two younger sons.