The Court of the Midnight King: A Dream of Richard III by Freda Warrington

their beliefs were not forbidden.
    Yet.
    The conversation pressed on. Surely the management of an estate was difficult for a woman alone, Lord Stanley suggested. Such a tragedy, to be widowed without a son and heir. Her mother deflected each insinuation, but they kept coming, all disguised as concern for her future.
    Throughout the ordeal, George Stanley’s stare never left Kate’s breasts.
    He seemed good-natured, as clumsy as a calf. His father exchanged narrow smiles with Morton, as if to say, “He’s well pleased.”
    “Gentlemen, my husband was a devoted servant to King Edward’s father,” Eleanor said coolly. “If any of these misfortunes should threaten us, the king himself would not refuse me his protection.”
    That halted them in their tracks.
    “Indeed, we’re all devoted servants of the king,” Stanley countered. “He would not deny you our protection. In these uncertain times, if anything befell to King Edward – which God forbid – you might have dire need of us.”
    Eleanor paled. Katherine chewed at the cushion of her lip. There was a fog of deceit in their honeyed words but she couldn’t tease out the meaning. Or she could, but feared to believe it. In dread she watched her mother’s face.
    “Katherine, would you leave us now?” Eleanor said.
    “What?” Taken by surprise, Kate couldn’t hold back her rude response.
    “Go up to the solar and wait for me there.”
    “But Mama––”
    “Katherine.” The word struck like an arrow-head. Kate could not be seen to defy her mother. Defeated, she feigned subservience and left with all the grace she could muster.
    In the solar, her mother’s private chamber, she watched sunlight flooding through the stained-glass windows, filling the room with a red-gold glow. She pulled off the stifling headdress and shook loose her hair. What a waste of a glorious afternoon. She resented the Stanleys for intruding.
    Perhaps their visit was sincere. Eleanor was alone and they genuinely wanted to help her.
    George Stanley’s young face glimmered in her mind, sweat beading his lip. Earnest, nervy, almost stupid with eagerness. Many would have called him handsome. She’d often wondered about love, but did not see it as nervous, moist-eyed and sweaty. Love did not wear the face of Lord Stanley’s son.
    The idea of marrying him…
    Panic seized her. Katherine sat amazed at the strength of her disgust. Am I expected to take the first man who is offered to me? she wondered. Will anyone care that I can’t love him, or even tolerate him?
    No, no, she thought. My mother would never do that to me. She promised.
    Edith’s shade moved like dust through sunbeams, saying nothing.
    After an hour or so, the door creaked open and her mother came in.
    Eleanor looked stern, her eyes bruised with anxiety. In her hand was a parchment, folded in three and sealed with a clot of wax.
    “They have left,” she said.
    Kate jumped up. “Already? Thank goodness!”
    “They will return in ten days to hear our answer.”
    “What answer, Mama?”
    “I don’t know what to do.” Eleanor’s voice was low, her eyes molten iron. “‘Might I remind you, madam,’ Lord Stanley said to me, ‘that when your father died without sons or nephews, that left me his closest male heir. That gives me a claim upon this land. I have so far chosen not to pursue it.’ As if I should be grateful!” Eleanor cried.
    “Mama…”
    “He wants my land. He will generously let us keep a corner of the house, while he moves in his own household, takes control of my estate, my Cauldron Hollow…”
    “The Hollow?”
    “The Church has an interest, too. Although the Motherlodge is lawful, they’re desperate to end our rights. Another sacred place destroyed would provide great satisfaction to them.”
    “They can’t! Can they?”
    Her mother’s response chilled her.
    “I don’t know what to do,” Eleanor repeated. “If Stanley chooses to fight me in court, with the Church’s backing, he could