Prior Peter shook his head. “Cousin Edward’s behavior has always amazed me. He is like a stag, forever in rut. How the queen bears it I do not know.”
“Elizabeth Woodville stomachs it because she is queen, and as long as she keeps producing children for him and makes no complaint, she will remain queen.
The woman’s ambition for herself and her family is hor-rific. Of them all only her oldest brother, Lord Rivers, can be called a gentleman.”
“You have never liked her, Dickon, have you?” the prior remarked.
“No,” the duke admitted. “I have not. Warwick had negotiated a good marriage for Edward with the French princess, Bona of Savoy, King Louis’s sister-in-law. We needed that alliance, and it would have brought honor to the house of York. But Edward let Elizabeth Woodville lead him about by his cock, and into a secret alliance. My brother had also managed to promise marriage to Lady Eleanor Butler before he seduced Elizabeth and married her. What was different about Elizabeth Woodville I will never understand. And then we lost Warwick’s friendship over it. Another disaster because of that damned woman.”
“I hear that Henry of Lancaster and his son, Prince Edward, are both dead now,” the prior remarked.
“And Warwick too, the bastard,” the duke said. “I was to marry his daughter, Anne, but after the breach with my brother Warwick gave her to Prince Edward of Lancaster. She’s widowed now, and we will marry when her mourning is over for her father and her husband. We have loved each other since we were children.”
“I am told your brother, George, who is wed to Warwick’s elder daughter, Isabel, opposes your match with the Lady Anne,” the prior murmured.
“Do not take sides, Peter,” the duke warned his Neville cousin. “Though George is reunited with Edward and has begged his pardon for his treason, I have ever been loyal to Edward, as all know. I will have myway in this. George is greedy. He wants all of Warwick’s inheritance, not just half. He doesn’t care whom I wed.
He just doesn’t want me to get any of Warwick’s lands or wealth. And believe me, he will betray Edward again should the opportunity arise and he thinks it of benefit to himself. It is his nature.”
The cleric drank down his wine and rose to his feet.
“It is the dinner hour, Dickon, and I am hungry. Aren’t you?”
Richard of Gloucester stood up with a small smile.
“Aye, I am hungry,” he agreed. “And you always set a fine table, Cousin Peter, despite your vow of poverty.”
Prior Peter chuckled as he led his guest into the refec-tory of the monastery. They took their places at the high board, and after having blessed the food to come, the cleric motioned his guest and his monks to sit down. Immediately the silver goblets at their places were filled with fragrant wine. The duke doubted the monks shared in the exclusive bounty accorded the prior’s high board, where he sat with his cousin and half a dozen of his right-hand monks.
The servers began to offer the dishes to the high board first. There was broiled salmon, mussels with a sauce of Dijon mustard, and creamed cod to begin with, followed by duck, ham, and beef. The high board was offered artichokes steamed in white wine. The bread was still warm from the ovens of the bake house. There were several cheeses, and finally apples baked with cinnamon and honey. Richard of Gloucester noted that the tables below the high board were served creamed cod, a rabbit stew, bread, cheese, and fresh apples. The wooden goblets were filled with beer.
When the meal had concluded the duke arose,thanked his cousin, and departed for the women’s guesthouse, a small building near the monastery gate.
There he found Elsbeth bathing Adair in a small oak tub by an open hearth. “Have you eaten?” he asked her.
“Was there enough?”
“Yes, my lord. They brought us good hot rabbit stew, bread and cheese, and wine,” she answered him. “I never tasted anything so good.”
“You probably have”—the duke chuckled—“butafter several weeks on the road I know that hot food does taste especially good. I have been on campaign enough to understand that.” He took a drying cloth from the rack before the fire and, wrapping it about Adair, lifted her from the tub. “And you, my poppet, has your hunger been assuaged now?” He dried her little body gently, and took the chemise that Elsbeth handed him to slip over Adair’s childish form.
“Let me do her hair, my lord,” Elsbeth said. She was amazed and touched by the kindness the duke was showing to her mistress. She brushed Adair’s long black hair until it shone with reddish lights. Then she braided it into a single plait. When she had finished she said to Adair, “Now, my precious, tell the duke what had driven us south to seek the king’s protection.”
Richard of Gloucester picked Adair up, and, sitting in the single chair by the fire while Elsbeth went about the business of tidying up, he cradled the child in his lap.
“Are you warm enough now, Adair?” he asked her.
“Aye, my lord,” she whispered. She felt so safe, and she had not felt safe since the night her father and mother had pushed her into the escape tunnel at Stanton Hall.
“Aye, Uncle Dickon,” he corrected her gently. “All my nieces call me Uncle Dickon, and while you may not be a princess, Adair, you are my niece too. Now, tell me what happened at Stanton that you were forced to flee.”
“The Lancastrians came,” Adair began. “In the morning just before sunrise they came, and they burned the village. Then they burned the fields and the barns. They drove off or slaughtered the livestock. Many of our folk were killed. Others fled. My da and mama put me in a tunnel with Elsbeth and Beiste. The horses were already waiting for us. They told us to flee.”
“Who told you that the king sired you?” he asked her, curious.
“Mama, but Da said I was still a Radcliffe, and should be proud,” Adair answered him. “They said the king would protect me. And Mama said that the queen had told her when Mama left her service that Mama would always have her friendship. I was to ask the queen that that friendship be offered to me, for it was my mama’s dying wish.”
The duke nodded, then turned to Elsbeth. “You are certain both the earl and his wife are deceased?”
