Queen By Right by Anne Easter Smith

Author:Anne Easter Smith
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Simon and Schuster
Published: 2011-09-04T16:00:00+00:00

EDMUND BEAUFORT WAS, like his uncle the cardinal, a tall, haughty man with a prominent nose and piercing blue eyes. But Edmund was half the cardinal’s age, blessed with a strong, athletic frame and a winning smile that hid the cruel streak Cecily had witnessed often when they were children. He had ridden into Bouvreuil’s courtyard that summer with his retinue wearing the blue and white Beaufort badge to join with Richard in negotiating with the duchess of Burgundy for help in reclaiming English lost lands in the southwest. They would all be leaving in a few days to meet her in Anjou, the lordship of which province Edmund Beaufort had been granted by the crown.

“One day Duke Philip is fighting with us against France and the next day he is negotiating a truce behind our backs,” Cecily said to her brother and cousin one evening following a quiet supper in the Yorks’ solar. “Where does he stand now? And why do you believe the duchess will be easier to deal with than her husband, cousin?”

The remains of Cecily’s favorite sparviter’s pie had been cleared away. Richard and Edmund sat on high-backed cushioned chairs at either end of the table. Cecily had chosen a stool on which to perch and was plucking absently at her psaltery, more interested in the men’s talk than her music.

Edmund gazed at her. “Still the outspoken Cis I remember,” he said, amused. Turning back to Richard, he arched a bushy brow. “Have you not curbed that tongue of hers yet, my lord? I must confess I am unused to being interrupted by a female while I am in serious conversation. I must be fortunate in my dear wife, for I do not believe Eleanor would ever attempt it.”

Then Eleanor Beauchamp must be a ninny, Cecily thought, but held her tongue. She was too intrigued to know how Richard would respond.

Richard laid a tender hand on Cecily’s shoulder. “Then I am sorry for you, Lord Edmund,” he said pleasantly. “I feel fortunate that my dear wife has a mind as good as yours or mine, and I find her questions—and indeed her advice—both insightful and wise.” He saw her triumphant smile for a second before she lowered her head modestly to her instrument. “To answer your earlier question, my dear, you have the measure of Burgundy, but, you may remember, his wife Isabella shares the same grandfather as you and Edmund here—John of Gaunt. She is thus a Plantagenet princess, and as Gaunt was also duke of Aquitaine, she has no desire to see it fall into French hands. You see,” he said pointedly for Edmund’s sake, even though he still addressed his wife, “a woman can be of influence when it comes to politics—as well as being useful for her family ties.”

Edmund had the grace to nod. “Touché, cousin,” he acquiesced. But he did not care for being patronized, and his next remark had an edge to it that Cecily did not like. “However, it

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