The Murders of Richard III - Elizabeth Peters [7]
“He was a Libra,” said Jacqueline, interested. “That’s a point for your side. Libras are well-balanced individuals, not liable to bursts of passion or ungoverned rage. They are sensitive to beauty, fond of justice—”
“Now stop that!”
Jacqueline grinned. Then she sobered and shook her head.
“Thomas, I’d adore coming to the meeting, but I don’t think I can manage it. I had planned to go home early next week.”
“Why must you? College doesn’t open till the middle of September. You’re not worried about the offspring, are you? Surely they’re old enough to manage for another fortnight.”
“Oh, they’d be delighted to have me stay away permanently. They have my car, my TV set, my refrigerator, and my bank account—such as it is—at their mercy. They are probably having nightly orgies.”
“They can’t be doing anything too bad….”
“Oh, yes, they can. However,” Jacqueline said, brightening, “they manage to keep me unwitting. So far they seem to have buried the bodies and settled out of court.”
“You’re a damned unnatural mum. I don’t know how they put up with you. Jacqueline, you’ve got to come. I’m counting on you.”
“It’s not polite to visit people without an invitation. I was brought up to be a lady.”
“I’ve already told Sir Richard you’re coming. He’s delighted.”
“Oh, you have, have you?”
“Don’t be so hostile. You haven’t asked me why the meeting is extraordinary.”
“Why,” said Jacqueline in the same steely voice, “is the meeting extraordinary?”
“We’ve found the letter. The one from Elizabeth of York, Richard’s niece.”
The bald statement had the desired effect. Jacqueline’s hard stare softened.
“You’re kidding.”
“No.”
“The letter in which the girl says she’s in love with her uncle and wants to marry him? That she wishes the queen would hurry up and die? That Richard is her—”
“ ‘Only joy and maker in this world,’ ” said Thomas, thoroughly pleased with himself. “That’s the letter.”
“The girl was at court,” Jacqueline said thoughtfully. “Her mother let her and the other princesses leave sanctuary after Richard was crowned. He agreed to provide for them, and not to force them into unsuitable marriages. But the letter is apocryphal, Thomas. I remember; it was quoted by one of Richard’s earliest defenders, back in the seventeenth century—”
“Buck.”
“Yes, Buck. He said he had seen the original, in Elizabeth’s own handwriting. But then it disappeared. Most authorities doubt it ever existed. Because, if it did—”
“Uh-huh,” said Thomas. “If it exists, it absolves Richard of one of the Tudor slanders—that he tried to force his unwilling niece into an incestuous marriage in order to improve his claim to the throne.”
“Yes, I remember. I was particularly struck by one part of that story—the Christmas party at court, where Queen Anne and young Elizabeth appeared in identical dresses.”
“Everyone at court was struck by it. The gesture was in singularly bad taste. The queen was dying of tuberculosis; she must have looked like a haggard ghost next to a handsome, healthy young girl. Richard was accused of thinking that one up, of course.”
“A man would never think of a thing like that. It’s a woman’s trick. Not the queen’s; she wouldn’t give another woman a gown like hers, especially if the other woman was younger and prettier. I thought, when I read about it, that Elizabeth must have planned the trick herself—had the dress copied.”
“Excellent,” Thomas said approvingly. “I hadn’t thought of that, but it bears out my own theory. There certainly was a rumor going around that Richard planned to marry the girl. When Richard heard it, he denied the story, publicly and emphatically. It would have been an extremely stupid move from his point of view. The girl was illegitimate, a commoner, his own niece, one of the hated Woodvilles. He had everything to lose and nothing to gain by such a marriage.
“No, I’m sure young Elizabeth