The Murders of Richard III - Elizabeth Peters [17]
They needed a guide. Weldon House was like a maze. The copy of Crosby Hall was not the only accretion; wings and annexes proliferated. As they paced along behind the maid, Thomas heard Jacqueline mutter something about rabbits. He didn’t know whether she was referring to the warren of corridors and rooms, or to Mr. O’Hagan, and he didn’t inquire. He was not looking forward to his next conversation with Jacqueline.
Their rooms were adjoining. Thomas wondered whether this was accidental or not. The maid was certainly well trained. She didn’t even blink when Jacqueline reached out a long arm and dragged Thomas into her room.
“I’ve got to unpack,” he said, retreating.
“I expect you have been unpacked. I see I have. Doesn’t the maid unpack for guests at these high-class affairs?”
“They do here, at any rate, and I hate it,” said Thomas, still backing toward the door. “I always feel as if I have holes in my underwear even when I know I don’t. Maybe I can get there before—”
“Close the door,” said Jacqueline ominously.
There was no use putting it off. Thomas obeyed. When he had done so, Jacqueline dropped into a chair and beamed at him.
“Thomas, you are the love of my life. How can I ever thank you for bringing me here?”
“You aren’t mad? I didn’t warn you about Sir Richard—”
“Being an expert on the fifteenth century? Oh, that’s all right. His appraisal is meaningless anyhow. He wants to believe in the letter. That’s fatal to objectivity.”
Masochistically Thomas continued, “And those frightful old women! I’m sorry you had to put up with their insults. Of course both of them are after poor Dick, and they regard every other woman as a rival. He’s years younger than either of them, but he is quite a matrimonial catch.”
“He’s a catch, all right. He’s sweet. Oh, Thomas, I am enjoying this! Let me see if I’ve got everybody straight in my mind. Sir Richard is Richard the Third, of course; no one else could possibly play Richard. And that enormous Ponsonby-Jones woman copped the role of Richard’s queen—pale, frail consumptive Queen Anne. How did she get away with that?”
“The Ponsonby-Joneses are Sir Richard’s only relatives. They are distant relatives, but he feels responsible for them. He’s particularly fond of young Elizabeth Ponsonby-Jones.”
“Who is Elizabeth of York,” Jacqueline resumed her summary, “Richard’s niece, and later the queen of Henry the Seventh. The nice little rector is Edward the Fourth, Richard’s brother—does he see himself in his secret day-dreams as a lusty lecher? Dr. Rawdon is poor, weak Henry the Sixth, which is equally inappropriate—he’s so healthy-looking, it hurts to look at him. General Kent isn’t suited to the role of Buckingham, either; Buckingham must have been a vacillating character, he changed his mind so often. Kent is certainly not indecisive. Lady Isobel—oh, Lord, Thomas, have you read any of her ghastly books?—is Edward the Fourth’s queen, Elizabeth Woodville. She probably would have preferred to be Richard’s queen, but she wouldn’t object to playing Elizabeth Woodville, the fabulous beauty with the silver-gilt hair who seduced a king into marriage. Philip Rohan as Lord Hastings—yes, but he could play any part. He’s a gifted actor. He has a beautiful voice.”
“It wasn’t his voice you were admiring,” said Thomas.
“Now, Thomas. Whom have I forgotten?”
“Well, you know I’m playing Clarence, the brother of Richard and Edward. You’ve forgotten Frank, Liz’s fiancé. Everybody forgets the poor guy.”
“I know one reason why I forgot him; I don’t know what part he’s playing. Did you tell me?”
“I guess not. He’s Edward of Lancaster, the son of Henry the Sixth. He was the first husband of Anne, whom Richard later married. Edward was killed in battle, but the Tudor historians accused Richard of murdering him.”
“I know that. Okay, I guess I’ve got them sorted out. Thomas, do you