The Lady of the Rivers (The Plantagenet and Tudor Novels, #1)

by Philippa Gregory

“I see what they are doing; they’re hoping you will lose your temper,” I tell him. “They are hoping you will attack them and then they can cut you down. Remember what your father said. Stay calm.” “They insult you!” Anthony is sweating with rage. “Look at me!” I demand. He darts a fierce glance at me and then hesitates. Despite my hasty words to him, my face is utterly calm. I am smiling. “I was not the woman left in Ludlow marketplace when my husband ran away,” I say to him in a rapid whisper. “I was the daughter of the Count of Luxembourg when Cecily Neville was nothing more than a pretty girl in a northern castle. I am the descendant of the goddess Melusina. You are my son. We come from a line of nobles who trace their line back to a goddess. They can say what they like behind my back; they can say it to my face. I know who I am. I know what you were born to be. And it is more, far more, than they.”