The Sun in Splendour

There was a deep silence about the table which lasted for some moments. Edward was staring thoughtfully ahead.

That night Henry the Sixth was murdered in the Wakefield Tower.

So Henry was dead. There were rumours of course for he had died at a most convenient time. His body had lain at St Paul's with the face exposed so that all might see him, and the talk continued that his body had bled as he lay in his shroud. Afterwards he was kept for a while at Black Friars and then taken by barge to Chertsey Abbey to be buried in the lady chapel there.

It may have been, said the people, that his death had been arranged on the King's orders, but even so, it was an end to strife and if it did mean that a few ruthless actions must be performed to bring about peace, then so must it be.

Within a few weeks people ceased to talk about Henry. The war was over. Edward had come to stay.

But Richard could not stop thinking about A

He did not know whether A

Richard went to Edward for he had been making up his mind to speak to his brother from the moment he had seen A

Edward was always pleased to see his brother, and as Richard entered his private chamber he studied him thoughtfully. How different he was from the flamboyantly handsome figure Edward knew he cut. Richard was of middle stature—perhaps a little lower, his face very serious, with the open looks of an honest man. So far he had not been called upon to dissemble. It would come, Edward guessed. But perhaps it did not to all men. In any case he smiled warmly and asked what troubled his brother that he looked so serious.

T have been wanting to speak to you for some time, Edward. There is a matter which is much on my mind.'

'Well?'

'It's A

'Ah,' said Edward. 'You have a weakness for the girl. I always knew it.'

'I ca

'Poor girl! She could not help being Warwick's daughter.'

'I want to marry her, Edward.'

'Yes, I thought so. Well, what are you waiting for?'

A great smile crossed Richard's face making him look so different.

'My dear Dickon,' said Edward, 'Why do you not go ahead? You wanted my blessing eh, good brother that you are! In these matters you should follow my golden example and marry where you will.'

'I intended to,'said Richard.

'Good for you. I like a man to know his own mind. But being you, you asked me first. I say go ahead. Our brother had one girl

and you are to have her sister. And the greatest heiresses in the Kingdom. Warwick was a very rich man! He had a genius for collecting wealth. I know he regretted not having a son largely because of those vast estates he managed to accumulate. Well, your A

Edward stopped and looked intently at his brother.

Then he said slowly: There may be trouble from George.'

'George . . . why should there be?'

'My dear Dickon, you know George. He married Isabel for her fortune. He believes that now that A

'Oh, no.'

'Perhaps not. However, dear brother, go ahead and good luck attend your wooing.'

It was late afternoon of the next day when Richard went to A

He knew where her apartment was. Both she and Margaret had been given fairly comfortable lodgings; Edward was never vengeful. . . and although Margaret had caused him a great deal of trouble he shrugged his shoulders and thought that just in the nature of things.

When he reached A

He called one of the guards.

'Where is the Lady A

'My lord,' was the answer, 'she was taken away this morning.'

'Taken away! But who had the right to do that?'

'It was the Duke of Clarence, my lord. He said he was taking her to her sister, and that he would have charge of her in the future.'

Richard was astounded. Why should George suddenly have decided to take A

However, he would go to his brother's London residence and see A

As he made his way to the Clarences' house a thought occurred to him. Had his brother guessed what he was pla

Richard would find out.

He arrived at his brother's house where he was received with great deference by his servants, and he said that he understood the Lady A

If he would kindly wait for a moment the servants would go and do what was necessary.

It was not A

George came hurrying in, an affable smile on his handsome face, a little bloated nowadays through too much good living especially excessive drinking, charming in a way, a pale shadow of Edward.

'Richard, dear brother, how good of you to call on me.'

Richard was always direct. 'You look well, George,' he said. 'I have in fact come to see A

'Ah,' said George looking serious.

'What is wrong? She is here is she not?'

'Y. .yes, she is here. She is in her sister's care.'

'Why?'

'Why, brother. Who else should look after her but her sister? You know what good friends Isabel and A

'Does she need . . . looking after. Is she ill?'

'I fear so. You see, she has suffered a terrible ordeal. She lost her father, and then the Prince. ... It is too much for the poor girl.'

'I wish to speak to her.'

'I'm afraid you ca

'Visitors! I am no ordinary visitor! A

George's face hardened. 'No, brother. You ca

'I demand to see her.'

'It is no use demanding here, my lord of Gloucester. This is my house. A