Rings of Passage: A Time Travel Novel with Richard III by Karla Tipton

Author:Karla Tipton [Tipton, Karla]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Medieval, historical, Lancaster, Britain, romance, Richard III, York, England, fantasy, history, Wars of the Roses, King
ISBN: 9780692455524
Publisher: Karla Tipton
Published: 2015-05-22T04:00:00+00:00

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Francis Lovell felt a sense of satisfaction sweep over him as he watched Dickon turn his back to the treacherous wench and stare in amazement at the shiny little book with his name on it. It was not until one of the viscount’s men grabbed her arms and began to drag her from the room that the king interceded.

“She is not to be harmed,” he said, his voice low but stern. He looked first at Stanley then at Francis, summing them up. “And she is not to be imprisoned until my order commands it. Keep her confined to her quarters.” He paused and looked at the book thoughtfully. “I shall examine the evidence.”

Francis saw the woman struggle against her captors.

“Richard...” she said, trying to catch the king’s attention. Such a breach of manners, in the presence of others, to call the king other than His Grace. The viscount snorted. Dickon would never stand for that.

But the king surprised him. Though he spoke not a word to her, he at last turned to the Lady Anise as she was being pulled from the room. Their eyes met for an instant, and Dickon’s gaze was not filled with anger, but only regret and pain. In that moment, Francis understood the depths of what he had done. Unreasonably – for the truth of her guilt was obvious – he prayed that he’d had acted rightly.

As the woman was taken from the house, the men-at-arms also exited the lord mayor’s house. The viscount looked on with pity as Richard stared wonderingly at the tiny tome. Francis had caused the king more pain. Had he threatened their friendship as well?

“Dickon...” he started, uncertainly.

Richard spun toward him, his dark eyes flashing. “So – you have accomplished your aim. Do you also realize you have rent my heart?”

Francis swallowed the lump in his throat, but would not allow Richard, in his fury, to ignore the facts. “Is it not better that we know now than later, Dickon? This book was indeed found beneath her mattress. What arts could have produced such a thing, but witchcraft?”

The king was leafing through the pages. “A printer, such as Caxton, might have created it. See – the lettering is odd. It may be the product of another kingdom.”

The viscount sighed. “And so, ’tis only by coincidence, that your name is emblazoned on its cover? Dickon, I think not.”

Closing the book, the king looked at him again, hardness in his glance. “That you believe such, my friend, is obvious. But I will not have the lady ill-treated until we know the origins of this,” he waved the book, “and what its text tells us. She shall be confined in her rooms – nothing more – until we know.”

Taking a deep breath, Francis knew the time had come. He forced the words out. “Dickon – I... I know... of your... intimacy with the lady.” Half expecting the king to demand how he knew, the viscount continued quickly, his voice as assertive as he could muster.

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