Read Online Queen by Right by Anne Easter Smith - Free Book Online Page B

doing with her so many years ago.
    Joan sighed. “The year has begun well for the house of Neville, my dear,” she murmured. “Be proud and pray for it to last.”
    C ECILY ’ S HEART NEARLY stopped when she first saw her father again several months later. She came into her mother’s solar, situated on the second floor of Joan’s new tower, just as Ralph was being helped into a high-backed chair by two sturdy squires. She flew to his side and knelt before him, her eyes anxiously taking in the pasty face and dark circles under his eyes.
    “My lord father,” she began. “Are you unwell?”
    “Certes he is unwell, Cecily,” Joan snapped, as worried as her daughter. “You do not need to remind him with your tactless question. Now fetch a stool, sit down, and hold that runaway tongue of yours.” Her tone softened as she regarded her husband. “Would you prefer wine or ale, my dear lord?”
    “Hell’s bells, ladies!” Ralph exclaimed. “I am not at death’s door. The heat and the journey have wearied me, ’tis all, and the many hours of wrangling at the council table. I am, after all, more than sixty years of age. My body may be weak, but my mind is still strong. Cease your fussing, I beg of you! Or I shall return to plague-ridden London.”
    “Nay, you jest, husband.” Joan smiled and caressed his hand. “You would not return home carrying a pestilence. In truth, we are impatient to hear the news from London, but only when you are rested.”
    Ralph regarded his wife with affection. “I have much to thank God for, my lady,” he said. “But most of all I thank Him every day for bringing you into my life. Never was a man more pleased with his wife.” Catching a glimpse of Cecily’s upturned face at his knee, he hastily added, “And his daughter. I trust you have been a good companion to your mother while I have been away.”
    Cecily nodded vigorously. “I have done my best, truly I have,” she replied, looking to her mother for assurance, but Joan chose the moment to fetch ale for her husband. She did not believe in swelling a child’s head with praise. “I pray you, my lord, what word of Dickon?” Cecily asked.
    “Has that boy not written to you, child? He swore to me that he had,” he growled, lowering his eyebrows again. “He is well and makes an impression at court with his courtesy and intelligence, but he is no popinjay, nor does he prate or swagger like some of the young lords.” He leaned over to Cecily and whispered, “Like Anne’s Humphrey Stafford.” Cecily giggled, reveling in her father’s closeness and his conspiratorial tone.
    Joan handed her husband a cup of ale and sat down again. “How is the little king faring, husband? Do you see him at all, or does he spend all his time in the nursery?”
    Ralph harrumphed. “As a result of the bad blood between your brotherBishop Henry and Duke Humphrey, the council saw fit to insist the infant be present at all council meetings and even to set the Great Seal between his knees. In truth, I thought ’twas ridiculous. What did they expect? That the king would give his opinion on matters of state? He gave his opinion often, but it was more in the fashion of a loud yawn of boredom or, worse, a nap!”
    Joan shook her head in disbelief. “What were they thinking? The boy is only four. And my brother sanctioned this addle-pated nonsense?”
    “Aye. Bishop Beaufort is Chancellor—for now—my dear. Because Duke Humphrey, the derelict Regent, has returned ruined both in body and in purse from his reckless campaigning on behalf of his foreign wife, and we, the other councillors, have forbidden him to fight more with Burgundy.” He sighed. “How I wish Bedford could leave France. He is the only one to help us steer this difficult regency. He is the best of us. When I left, things were coming to a head between your brother and Humphrey. I was glad this little bout of sickness allowed me to come home.” He leaned back in his chair and closed