The Tudor Conspiracy (9 page)

Jane hurried up to us. “Oh, thank you! I’m so sorry! I had no idea Blackie would slip his lead. If it hadn’t been for Your Grace…” She seemed to have forgotten her prior disparagement of the princess, who regarded Jane with an impassive expression. I gave her Blackie. Jane clutched the dog, tears of relief spilling from her eyes. “Naughty dog!” she scolded softly in its ear. “You are a very naughty little dog! You scared me half to death.”

Elizabeth did not speak. She shifted her regard to me with the impersonal courtesy she might have shown any well-intentioned stranger before she turned to her chair.

Jane murmured to me, “I am indebted to you. If it is ever within my power to help you, I promise you need only ask.”

“He was hardly in danger,” I said. My heart’s erratic hammer subsided. It had worked. Elizabeth had my note.

I did not hear the queen’s approach until her voice startled me. “What is the meaning of this unseemly ruckus?” Jane and I reeled about, and I saw Mary lift her virulent stare past us to where Elizabeth stood, as if frozen, by her chair.

“You have our leave to retire, madam,” the queen said coldly. “We’d not wish for such excitement to aggravate your already delicate constitution, nor, God forbid, induce another illness. And I suggest you think hard on what we have repeatedly asked of you. Remember, while we may be sisters, our patience is not without its limits.”

Elizabeth’s entire face hardened. For a second, I forgot to breathe. I half-expected her to retort something inflammatory enough to truly seal her doom. Instead, she performed a curt curtsy and, with her hand closed over my note, strode without a word toward the hall doors, her slim black figure scything through the whispering courtiers.

Beside me, Jane started to stammer out an apology.

“Mistress Dormer,” cut in Mary, silencing her, “I’m not interested in your excuses. You are to make sure that lead is fastened henceforth. I only let you bring your dog into the hall tonight because you were so worried about leaving him alone. As both Mistress Darrier and I advised you when she gave you that dog, owning a pet is a responsibility. If you cannot care for it, then tell us now and we will find another person who can.”

“Oh, no,” said Jane, with genuine concern in her voice, “I can care for him, Your Majesty. I promise you, it won’t happen again.”

“See that it doesn’t.” Mary eyed her. “Now, pray return to your seat.”

Jane clutched Blackie to her chest. With another grateful look at me, she scurried back to her stool. I only had a moment to wonder why Sybilla Darrier would have given the dog to a girl who so clearly disliked her before Mary turned the full force of her gaze to me.

“I beg Your Majesty’s forgiveness,” I said. “I didn’t mean to disturb you.”

Her face was inscrutable. “Master Prescott, you’re quick on your feet. It is an admirable quality I have come to appreciate, as it often averts disaster. But it seems to me that you need reminding of your proper station here. You are my servant. So take heed: I expect my servants to remain as far as they can from my sister. Do I make myself clear?”

She did not wait for my reply. With a lift of her chin, she returned to her chair, as if I had ceased to exist.

Dwarves tumbled in. The entertainment had begun, and Mary’s entire countenance lightened. She clapped her hands in delight as the dwarves, clad in spangled suits and belled caps, wrestled each other with abandon, slapping each other’s buttocks and exchanging ribald jests. I’d not have thought she’d enjoy this rambunctious display, but she seemed thoroughly pleased, shouting encouragement and tossing coins from a purse held by Lady Clarencieux even as the knot of black-clad Spaniards gathered about her frowned at such undignified behavior.

I retreated to the cover of a shadow-drenched wall and seized a goblet from a passing wine server. I drank it down in a gulp, my hand trembling. Elizabeth had my note; now all I had to do was get through my appointment with Renard. It was clear to me that whatever was happening at court, the princess was indeed a prisoner. Mary had denied her leave to depart and treated her with a palpable disdain. I didn’t know for certain that Renard was responsible for all of it, but I’d seen him whisper in the queen’s ear moments before Elizabeth arrived. He’d alerted Mary to her sister’s absence, knowing it would infuriate her.

Shifting my thoughts from the princess, I turned my attention to the company, focusing on Sybilla. She had glided to Lady Lennox’s side to exchange polite conversation, leaving Jane with her dog, now fully leashed and curled, exhausted, under her stool. Sybilla seemed at ease with the sour-faced Lady Lennox, whose Tudor blood made her someone of importance at court. It stood to reason Sybilla was therefore in high favor with the queen herself, as Lady Lennox seemed unlikely to squander her time on menials.

Yet Sybilla had just helped me
. Audentes fortuna juvat,
she had said. Fortune favors the bold.

My curiosity burned. She had expressed compassion for Elizabeth’s plight and somehow guessed what I was going to do, of that I was certain. She had known I needed to create a distraction so I could get close to Elizabeth, and it was why she had alerted me to Renard’s jealous scrutiny, warning me I didn’t have much time.

Did she know something of the ambassador’s intent toward the princess?

Was she a potential ally?

My ruminations were interrupted by the sight of Courtenay. He had remained at the hearth, insolently leaning against the lintel, nursing a goblet, but now he was bowing low before the queen, as if requesting her leave to depart. I straightened up. I had deliberately stayed in the hall to ease any suspicions, but as the earl strode past me with a scowl plastered across his face, I realized the time had come for my next engagement.

I beckoned Peregrine. “Go back to our rooms. I’ve some business yet to conclude.”

He gaped at me. “Business?”

“Yes. Now do as I say.” I had started to move past him when he suddenly grasped my arm. I stared at him. “I know what you’re going to do,” he said. “You’re going to follow Courtenay, aren’t you? Well, you shouldn’t. It’s not safe.”

“Peregrine, let go of me-”

“You don’t understand! While you chased after that stupid dog, I saw someone!”

I paused, lifting my gaze to see Courtenay vanish through the same doors that Elizabeth had gone through. “Who?” I asked, returning to Peregrine. “Who did you see?”

“There was a man watching you from that corner by the pillars. He’s wearing a black cloak and hood. He’s huge. I couldn’t see his face, but he didn’t seem friendly.”

A shiver went through me. The shadow I’d glimpsed earlier: I
was
being watched. Was it someone in Renard’s pay? Had he already sent an agent of his after me?

Had I been marked?

“Where is he now?” I pried his fingers from my arm. “Stop acting so alarmed or everyone will notice. Pretend to look around, as if you forgot something.”

Peregrine glanced about us. “No, I don’t see him. He’s not there. But he was!” His voice quavered. “I swear to you, he was watching you the entire time.”

“I believe you. I do. But this can’t wait. So do as I say. Go back to our room and stay there. Don’t answer the door. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” I pushed him toward the opposite entranceway. “Go. Now.”

He left reluctantly, glancing at me over my shoulder. My night’s intake of wine turned sour in my belly. Pulling my cap lower on my head, I plunged through the hall doors and into darkened corridors that smelled of stale perfume and candle smoke. By exposing myself to reach Elizabeth, I’d taken a significant risk and heightened Renard’s suspicions even more, but I wasn’t going to let that, or any henchman of his, stop me. On the dais, the queen herself had singled Courtenay out, about to send him like a lackey to fetch Elizabeth from her rooms, but then he and Elizabeth behaved as if they’d never met. The sheer distance they’d kept from each other in the hall was enough to confirm that he was more than a mere companion she went riding with. He and Elizabeth were involved in something, and I intended to find out exactly what that something was.

In the long gallery, bejeweled courtiers flittered past me. I feigned a drunken stagger that elicited a woman’s giggle and a man’s angry “Out of our way, sod!” As soon as the courtiers passed, I quickened my pace. Courtenay must have taken this gallery, but as I moved out of it, down a flight of stairs into a narrower passageway, I began to think I’d taken a wrong turn. Whitehall was a labyrinth I’d barely mastered, and I realized I was actually heading into the bowels of the palace, the damp rising off the stone flagstones.

I cursed under my breath. I started to turn back and retrace my steps. I had surely lost Courtenay by now, and-

The faint echo of voices reached me.

I inched back toward where the passage rounded a corner. Two figures stood partially illumined by icy light coming from a poorly fitted postern door. The taller of the figures had his back to me, but I identified at once the distinctive black-and-white-draped arm at his hip, dangling silver points. The other figure was lithe, shorter by a head and swathed in a black mantle. A jolt of recognition set my blood to racing when I saw the alabaster oval of her face, framed by her fur-trimmed hood.

I pulled out of sight, my heart pounding.

It was Elizabeth, alone with Courtenay.

“We must be careful,” I heard her say, the passage’s low vaulted roof amplifying her voice. “This game has become far too perilous.”

“Game?” Courtenay gave a brusque laugh. “It’s gone far beyond that. We’re in a fight for our lives, now that your harridan sister means to set the Spaniard over us.”

“You forget that my sister has not announced anything yet,” she countered. “It may be that this betrothal to Philip of Spain will never come to pass. Such affairs take time. There are a hundred complications that could interfere and-”

“The only consideration is whether she’ll take your head before or after the wedding,” he cut in, with a callousness that chilled me. “Didn’t you hear how she spoke to you in the hall? She warned you before her entire bloody court! Elizabeth, you cannot play both sides anymore. Mary will move against you. She’ll see you to the scaffold even if she has to execute every Protestant from here to Dover to achieve it.”

“Careful, cousin.” Elizabeth’s voice turned hard. “You speak of my sister. Besides, she has not done anything to me yet. I am still in the succession by our father’s will.”

Courtenay laughed. “Henry also named your aunts and their children after you. Mary will see you dead or disinherited, and put that sour bitch Lennox in your place, until she gets with child by Philip. You know it and so do I. Are you going to submit? Will you sacrifice your very right to be queen to Mary’s unholy Hapsburg alliance?”

“God’s teeth, I’ve heard enough!” Elizabeth exclaimed. She paused, lowering her voice to a hiss. “What would you have me do, eh? I’m watched day and night by her spies, by the ladies she’s set in my chambers, by the very laundress who washes my linens! Since I came to court, I’ve been on the edge of an abyss. I do not intend to submit. But neither do I mean to lose my head over it. If it comes to it, I’ll do what I must to survive.”

“Meaning what? You’ll kiss the pope’s arse, and Philip of Spain’s, too?”

His tone was so taunting, I had to brave another look. I saw him reach for her, as if to take her hands, and she recoiled. “You would have me build my own scaffold.”

“I do not force you to anything,” he replied. “But you heard your sister: The time for prevarication is over. Trust in Dudley and me, if nothing else. Only we can see you safe.”

My entire being froze. Dudley: He spoke of Robert Dudley, my former master, Northumberland’s favored son and Elizabeth’s childhood friend, whom Mary had confined in the Tower with his brothers-Robert Dudley, who stood condemned of treason.

Elizabeth had gone utterly still. The moments passed like years, weighted with her unspoken reflection. Then she said quietly, “Here it is.” She parted her cloak. From within its pocket, she retrieved a small package and handed it to him. Drawing her cloak back about her figure, she gestured to the postern door. “Now call for your man to accompany me to my rooms. I feel a headache coming on. I need to rest.”

My mind keeled as Courtenay avidly thrust the package into his own cloak. I stood as if paralyzed, trying to make sense of what I’d just seen, barely registering the figure that came through the postern door. It stepped forth purposefully, a gloved hand held up, detaining Elizabeth. Then it pointed that same hand to where I lurked. The princess turned to Courtenay, frowning. In that instant, I recalled what Peregrine had told me.
He’s wearing a black cloak and hood. He’s huge. I couldn’t see his face, but he didn’t seem friendly.

I took one look at the man’s bulk, at the shapeless cloak and cowl that concealed him from head to foot, and realized I had been mistaken. Renard hadn’t set a man to trail me. The shadow watching me in the hall, the figure standing there now, pointing at me, was a hireling of Courtenay’s. As I heard Courtenay curse and Elizabeth gasp, I spun around to race back the way I’d come, my footsteps like thunderclaps in my ears.

The long gallery was dark, a lone cresset sputtering oily flame high on a far wall, throwing more shadow than light. I was gasping for air, had to make myself breathe through my nose as I pitched myself headfirst into the nearest recessed window bay.

Moments later, Courtenay appeared, Elizabeth close behind him, her hood drawn up over her head. “Are you sure?” she asked anxiously.

“Yes, he was there!” Courtenay was turning to and fro, peering furiously into the gallery. “By all the devils in hell, he was eavesdropping on us, and now we’ve lost him!”

“Who are you talking about?” asked Elizabeth. “I didn’t see anyone.”

Courtenay’s voice edged. “That nobody from the hall, who made such a show of rescuing Jane Dormer’s dog, He must have followed us.” Without awaiting the princess’s response, he swung about to his henchman, who lumbered up with a distinctive limp, an unsheathed dagger in his fist. By the looks of it, the earl had hired a mercenary. “You idiot,” spat Courtenay, “you were supposed to keep watch!” He lifted a hand as if to strike the man, but Elizabeth interposed herself between them.