The majordomo nodded an acknowledgment, andAdair stepped away. She found a discreet corner with a bench, and sat down to wait. Around her the crowd waited and gossiped. She didn’t recognize anyone from her time at court.
“Well,” she heard a nearby voice say, “I have it on the most reliable source that he murdered them himself.”
“No! Who told you that?” a second voice asked.
“I cannot say, for I should betray a confidence, my lord, if I did,” the first voice replied. “He strangled those two poor innocent little princes with his own hands.”
“The monster! Where was it done?”
“In the Tower even before he set the crown upon his own head,” voice one said.
“But I had heard he had moved them to Middleham,”voice two remarked.
“Did you?” Voice one was doubting. “Not according to my sources, sir.”
“Did you hear he attempted to bed his own niece, now our queen, in an effort to save his throne? And I have heard he practiced some rather lustful perversions with his own son, and that is why the child died,” voice two remarked.
“Well, we are well rid of Richard the usurper. He was obviously a most evil man, and is surely already roasting in hellfire for his wickedness,” the first voice said.
“Have you heard the rumor that the young queen is with child?”
Adair sat, shocked by the conversation she had just heard. She had wanted to leap up and deny the filth the two men were spewing forth about Richard of Gloucester to those gathered about them and listening avidly.
But instead she bit her tongue and remained silent.
She had lived at court long enough to know when to fight a battle and when not to. It didn’t matter whatthese nobodies thought. Adair Radcliffe knew the kind of man her Uncle Dickon had been. He had been honorable, decent, and kind. He was a man of great faith, and while she didn’t really know who had sent their minions to Middleham to murder her half brothers, she knew it wasn’t Richard of Gloucester, for he was already dead when the princes had been killed.
The day waned, and finally the majordomo announced, “Their majesties will receive no one else today. Come back tomorrow.”
The chamber began to empty, but Adair remained where she was. Surely Bess would send someone for her soon. The lights in the antechamber were dimmed, and the majordomo came to say that she could not remain.
Adair got up and slowly walked from the room. She had no idea of where she should go. On the occasions she had stayed at Windsor as a part of the royal nursery they had been confined to their own apartments and a small garden unless they were invited to ride. Adair had no idea where she was.
She was tired and she was hungry and she was confused. Why had Bess sent for her only to ignore her?
“My lady?”
She turned to see a serving girl. “Yes?” she replied.
“Are you the Countess of Stanton?” the girl asked. “I thought I remembered you.”
“I am she,” Adair answered. “Can you help me? I have no idea of where I am, or what arrangements have been made for me for the night. The queen sent to Stanton for me to come.”
“Of course, my lady. Come with me, and we will find someone who knows,” the girl said. “The queen is most thoughtful of her guests.”
But no one knew where Adair belonged. No chamber had been set aside for her.
“I have left my belongings in the servants’ dormitory,” Adair told the young serving wench. “Take me back here, and then will you be kind enough to go toLady Margaret Beaufort and ask her where I am to go?”
“Of course, my lady,” was her reply. The girl took Adair back to where she had changed, and hurried off.
When she returned she could not meet Adair’s gaze at first.
“Lady Margaret’s woman says you are to remain here for the night, my lady.” And the servant girl blushed with her embarrassment.
Shock rippled through Adair. What was wrong? She had been sent for, and not come uninvited. She drew a long, deep breath. Perhaps the queen had not expected her so soon, and now there was no time to prepare a chamber for her half sister. Very well, Adair thought.
She would remain here, if that was what Mags wanted.
