"I would like to tell you about Maman's family," said the Serpent, handing her cup to one of her ladies and rising. She took my arm.

"My mother has many interesting people she can claim relation with. Surely you know that my mother's father, the Count of St. Pol, was related to the Holy Roman Emperor. Or that my mother's mother was an Italian princess, descended from the Orsinis?"

She turned to look at me. "You look surprised, good mother," she cooed. "I see you did not know that."

The candles flickered as my vision narrowed. I knew her mother Jacquetta, d.u.c.h.ess of Bedford, was of a higher social station than her father, for I remembered well how she would constantly talk of her family in France. But I'd never really believed her connections were so ill.u.s.trious. Perhaps because it seemed obvious she would exaggerate in an effort to cover up her husband's humble origins.

"Are you not descended from Queen Alainor of Aquitaine?" said the Serpent.

"Indeed I am."

"And would you have been happy if your son, the king, had married one of Queen Alainor's descendants?"

I gripped the back of a chair. If he'd done that, wouldn't everything have been different?

The Serpent turned slightly, the silver dress fanning out across the floor in a curling wave. She smiled.

"You see, Mother, your son was dutiful after all. I also am descended from Queen Alainor."

I glared at her. How like her mother, to exaggerate her claims.

"That's not true."

"Indeed it is. I am descended, by my mother, from Simon de Montfort and his wife, the Lady Eleanor, one of Queen Alainor's granddaughters."

I shook my head, but could not rid myself of a pounding headache.

"So you need have no further worry about allying yourself with the Woodvilles." The Serpent drew her arm through mine and ushered me out of the room. "We are truly blue-blooded. Your sister will be safe with us."

The door closed shut and I was left in a dark corridor. I shivered with cold. The Serpent's family had fought against the House of York in the war. She was responsible for the murder of Richard, of Salisbury, and of Rutland. Her people were the ones who'd put their heads on top of pikes at Micklegate Bar. She should not be Queen of England.

Within the month, Cath was married to the Serpent's brother John. Much sport was had at poor Cath's expense. One wit described her as a slip of a girl. Another referred to this sham arrangement as the Diabolical Marriage. I was forced to attend the wedding ceremony, which I found humiliating in the extreme. Just as the Serpent had intended.

Chapter 54.

Greenwich Palace, London Feast of Saints Philip & James May 3, 1465 At nineteen, Margaret was the most beautiful lady at Edward's court. She greatly resembled her dead sister Joan, with her flawless lily-and-rose complexion and chestnut brown tresses. On this birthday, Edward held a feast followed by dancing to celebrate. Margaret stood in a circle with other young folk, following the beat of the drum first left, then right, that accompanied the recorder and dulcimer, while the dancing-master instructed them on the latest dance steps.

I stood in the garden, enjoying the music while I gave directions to Edward's head steward, having taken in hand the lavish preparations for Margaret's feast.

An unpleasantly shrill voice made me turn.

"Nineteen, is she not? 'Tis full time she was married."

As soon as my eyes met the Serpent's, she took my arm. She chose her moment well, for she was in front of hangers-on and had a vice-like grip that was not easy to dislodge.

"My brother Ned would be the perfect match for Margaret," she remarked. "Why, the king, your son, thinks highly of him."

My cheeks warmed as my stomach turned over. Ned Woodville was one of those gentlemen who seem always to be underfoot, dicing, singing, and not doing anything in particular. Why the king had made him Admiral of the Fleet, heaven only knew. Doubtless it had something to do with the Serpent, for he had no qualifications that I could see, having never fought a sea battle in his life. His bleary eyes and late risings rather told me that he led a life given over to debauchery and drink. Unfortunately, Edward seemed to attract many such followers to his court.

"No need to gape, good mother: You have been remiss. Why haven't you married her off before?"

Why indeed? Margaret was my youngest daughter. I could not bear to part with her. Of course, I must one day. But only to someone who was worthy.

The Serpent continued, "'Tis four years since Edward became king. You've had plenty of time to choose a suitor."

"No."

"'Tis true, I tell you. Why, he was crowned king in June of 1461, near unto the Feast Day of Saints Peter and Paul. You cannot tell me your wits are so addled-"

"Out of the question."

"Why?" The Serpent opened her gold-brown eyes wide. "You don't mean to say my brother is not good enough? That is absurd. Your son, the king, has heaped honors on him. I'm sure he would agree to the match."

The ground heaved and the Serpent's voice receded into the distance as she said, "Think on it, good mother, I beseech you. 'Tis time for her to be married. 'Tis full time."

Her mouth widened into a smile as I sank onto the nearest seat.

She left, followed by ladies who did not trouble to hide their smiles.

I must protect Margaret at all costs. Where was Edward?

When I arrived at the king's apartments, Edward was closeted with Warwick.

"We need an alliance with France," said Warwick as I entered.

"But an alliance with Burgundy would bring in more trade," replied Edward.

"It is imperative that we seal a compact with King Louis," said Warwick. "Otherwise, he'll give shelter to the Lancastrians."

"Louis is too slippery to be trusted," remarked Edward, "so he might do anything. But the London merchants need the trade with Burgundy."

He caught sight of me and instantly came forward. "Mother?"

I sank wordlessly onto a seat while Edward waved away Warwick and sent for wine.

"Mother, what's wrong?"

I sipped my wine, playing for time. Now that I was with Edward, I had no clear idea of what to say.

"I've never seen you look so upset, Mother. Whatever has happened?"

My intuition told me not to mention the Serpent by name. On the other hand, discussing Margaret's marriage with Edward when I had not prepared him for this topic of conversation was going to make me look ridiculous. But I had no choice, so I plunged ahead.

"It's about Margaret."

"Margaret?" Edward's brows furrowed. "You do not mean to say she has gone off and married without my permission?"

"Nothing like that. But I am anxious that she marry well, and marry soon."

Edward's blue eyes bore into mine. "Is that all? Why, Mother, you do surprise me. I thought something truly awful had happened."

"Edward, I need your help. Margaret must be married, and married soon."

"All in good time, Mother. Why the rush now?"

I avoided looking at him. "Is there no prince or duke abroad who needs a wife? I would have my Margaret make a splendid international match."

Edward picked up a scroll of paper and began tapping it with his ring finger. "I have received news that the Duke of Burgundy's heir needs a wife. Charles of Charolais was married to Isabelle of Bourbon. The news from Burgundy is that Countess Isabelle has recently died. Now that would be a good match."

"Oh, yes, Edward. That would be just the thing for her."

"But what of your nephew Warwick? He wouldn't be pleased if you supported a Burgundian alliance."

It was true. Warwick and Edward did not go in the same direction regarding England's foreign policy. They were like an ill-yoked pair of mules, with Warwick pulling towards France and Edward pulling towards Burgundy. I had hitherto supported Warwick's efforts in gaining an alliance with France. I felt that I should stand by him after Edward betrayed him by secretly marrying the Serpent. Now, matters were different: I would do anything to save Margaret from a Woodville alliance.

I rose and a.s.sured Edward I would deal with Warwick provided Edward gave his solemn oath that he would lose no time in seeing about a marriage between Margaret and Burgundy's heir.

Edward threw back his head and roared with laughter.

"Really, Mother. There's no need to be so anxious. You know I'm very keen on the Burgundian alliance. I a.s.sure you, I will do all in my power to see to this match." His eyes bored into mine. "Mother," he remarked. "You have been acting oddly, you know. Am I missing something?"

I smiled as warmly as I could and a.s.sured him that standing in the sun had not agreed with me.

Then I hurried back to the garden and spoke to the steward once more about the arrangements for Margaret's birthday feast.

Chapter 55.

Greenwich Palace, London June 1465 The Serpent was crowned Queen of England on Whitsunday, just at the end of May. I did not attend. While I lay in bed, I braced myself for what might follow.

She didn't keep me waiting long.

"Ah, good mother, there you are."

Edward was nowhere to be seen. As usual, I was surrounded by her people. As always, the Serpent took my arm, in her insultingly overly familiar manner.

"I've been meaning to talk to you about Richard," she said as she took me through a tunnel overhung with lilac. Its sweet, almost sickly scent was overpowering.

"Richard? You mean, my son Richard?"

"How old is he now?"

I paused and glared at her. Her ladies stared at me, so I was forced to answer. "He has about twelve years."

"He's growing up," she exclaimed. "We do not have much time."

"What does this have to do with you?"

She smiled. "Ah. Now we come to the point." She took my arm again. "You see, good mother, I have Richard's best interests at heart. Now, Warwick-"

"What about Warwick?" I demanded, drawing my arm away.

"Now, now. There, there." She patted my arm. "There's no need to be so suspicious." She pouted, but there was a glint of amus.e.m.e.nt in her eyes. "I have a plan for Richard." She took my arm again.

I withdrew it and glared.

She smiled and folded her arms. "I think Richard should be moved from Warwick's care to that of my brother. Do you not agree?"

It was the custom for young n.o.blemen, like Richard, to be taken away from their families at the age of seven or eight and sent to train in the arts of war in another household. I had sent my youngest son to be trained in the household of my nephew. However, the Serpent and Warwick loathed each other.

I glared. "Richard is in my keeping."

"He's in Warwick's keeping," she pointed out, "and I do not think Warwick is-satisfactory. Richard would do much better if he were under the care of my brother, Sir Antony Woodville."

I froze. Of all her siblings and the Serpent had many Sir Antony was the most widely respected. He was learned, cultured, and had a great reputation on the jousting field.

"What say you, good mother?"

"I have to think of Richard's wishes," I replied. " He has not had an easy childhood and he is happy at Middleham-"

"How strange that the wealthiest peer in the realm, your husband, the Duke of York, should have so many sickly children," she remarked. "Let me see, you had five daughters did you not? But two died." She ticked them off on her fingers. "Joan, the eldest, and Ursula, the youngest. And you had eight sons, did you not, madam? And of those sons, five died. Henry, Edmund, William, John, Thomas. So many sons, so many good fighting men for the House of York. But they died."

"What exactly is your meaning?" I snapped.

The Serpent edged away, making fluttering motions with her hands. "You do frighten me so, Mother dear, when you get angry." She paused and flashed a sidelong smile. "And you do get angry, do you not?"

I compressed my lips. Since the day my father had given me that beating, I had always been angry.

"Maman," she remarked, speaking now of her own mother, "had fifteen children, six sons and nine daughters and they all survived. And she had considerably less money than you. Now, why would that be? Was it all the riding around you did when you should have been confined to one of your husband's castles, awaiting the birth of his children?"

I made a wall of silence between us.

"They do say," continued the Serpent, putting her hand on the gnarled bole of a tree, "that Richard greatly resembles his father, the old duke. Was the duke as puny as your son Richard? Was he as short, as pasty-faced, and-deformed?"

"Richard is not deformed!" I exclaimed. "He injured his shoulder at the quintain when he was practicing his jousting. Such injuries are common, as you well know."

The Serpent was silent for a few moments. "So the duke, your husband, was not strong. Perhaps he could not sire healthy sons. Or perhaps it was your fault."