“Methinks there is more in the Tudor than you credit,” said the Countess.  “I have heard much of him, and from one who knows him well—­or did a few years since.  He is not a brave Knight or skilled warrior may be, but he has a certain shrewdness and determination which would make him a formidable rival for the Crown, if he were able to muster a following or had an opportunity to arouse any enthusiasm for his cause.”

“And from what wise person did you learn all this?” De Lacy asked with an amused smile.

“From the Countess of Northumberland.”

“And whence comes her knowledge?”

“If you were not new to England you would not ask,” said she.  “Henry Tudor was for years a prisoner of state in her father’s castle of Pembroke.  She knows him from daily companionship and should be competent to judge.  Indeed, as the Lady Maude Herbert, it is said she was betrothed to him.”

“Why did she marry Percy?”

“That, I can only guess.  Her father fell at Edgecote; there were six other sisters . . . and the great Earl came a-wooing.  Besides, Richmond was in exile, had lost his patrimony and a price was on his head.”

“And she never loved him?” De Lacy asked.

“Nay, that I do not know; but she was very young, and if she did it was not likely a lasting passion.  She seems happy enough as chatelaine of Topcliffe.”

“Doubtless—­yet, nevertheless, there is another woman in England than Stanley’s Countess who may be dangerous to Richard if Henry Tudor ever seek an issue with him.”

“You mean the Countess of Northumberland?”

“Aye.  Percy wields huge power.  He and the Stanleys together could well-nigh topple the throne.  Lord Stanley no man trusts—­and it was a Percy whose treason sent the Second Richard to his doom.”

“Richard of Bordeaux was not Richard of Gloucester,” she argued.

“In truth, no, but the conditions then were far more favorable to the King.  Believe me, wore I the Crown, these two women would give me more concern than all the nobles in my kingdom.”

“What would you do if you were King?” she asked, smiling.

De Lacy held up his hands.  “Do!  When I cannot control even one woman, I would make a merry mess with two and a kingdom besides.”

Just then a horn spoke merrily from the courtyard and De Lacy sprang up.

“Richard is for a ride in Windsor forest and I must away,” he said.  “I would that you went, too.”

“We do go,” she said.  “Let us haste or I shall be late to horse.”

“May I ride with you?” he asked.

She nodded.  “For a little way.”

“Why not all the way?” he persisted.

“Because the King would object”—­it was the flash of tenderness now.

“Nay, he would be quite satisfied,” De Lacy answered unthinkingly.

She stopped short.

“Indeed!” she exclaimed frigidly; “well, I would not;” and turning abruptly, she entered a private passage and disappeared.