In Defense of the Queen (9 page)

“Yes, I’ll fight for her. I want to kill her swine of a brother for doing this to us, I want to help stop Wolsey. Not sit in the Tower with her, sucking my teeth.”

“I’ll watch her.” Harry stepped closer to Eric, touched a quivering shoulder. “Maybe we can do it together? You’re good in a fight, Eric, but the Tower Wardens are big, and if something happens . . . you could get help while I stand guard.”

Peter Jack opened his mouth, but Parker had had enough. “Harry, your lads will report to me, or Peter Jack?”

Harry gave a nod. “I’ll speak to them.” He turned without waiting and left, leaving the door open behind him.

Peter Jack watched him go, a hunted look in his eyes.

“Sir, I—”

Parker held up a hand, and in the silence that followed, he heard a sound.

The creak of floorboards by the entrance.

He launched himself at the passageway, but the front door had already slammed shut. When he flung it open and ran out into Crooked Lane, there was no one there.

He spun on his heel, almost colliding with Peter Jack, and raced back into the house, up the stairs and burst into the spare room.

Lucas Horenbout sat with his head in his hands on the bed. On the floor lay the rope that had tied Jan Heyman, but the musician had gone.

“What did you do?” Parker slapped Lucas’s hands away, and his head jerked up.

His face was pale, tinged with green, and his hand shook as he lifted it to wipe away a line of sweat on his brow.

“What did you tie Jan up for? He woke me, begging to be released.” His voice was weak, wavering.

Parker took a step back. Breathed deeply. The air in the room was stale, and he could smell the sharp odour of sweat.

“Where is Susanna?” Lucas gently lifted his hand to press the skin around the lump at the back of his head.

“Exactly where you made sure she would go.” Parker walked to the window and flung it open to purge the sour air of the room. “The Tower.”

* * *

The walls of Susanna’s prison were whitewashed, and set with dark beams. Her windows were large, paned with glass, and looked out over Tower Green, to the menace of the White Tower.

There was little furniture in the expansive, comfortable rooms, though, and she could only think that they had been taken for use elsewhere. A table and chair sat under one of the windows and two short benches were angled near the fireplace. That was the sum of it.

Kilburne eyed the room critically and muttered something about finding more furnishings.

She did not care if he did, or not. She wandered though a doorway, and found the bedchamber. There was a bed in it. An enormous one, and she could only think it had not been taken because of the difficulty in moving it down the steep stairs.

The back wall of the bedroom was of grey stone, part of the Bell Tower which the Lieutenant’s Lodgings leant up against. She could feel the tower looming over her, cold and harsh.

“The bell will ring each night to call the curfew. I will interpret the Queen’s orders concerning you to include the freedom of the grounds. You can take your ease on the Green, but when the bell rings, you must return to your rooms.” Kilburne stood, uncomfortable, in the doorway of the bedchamber. “I am sure Parker will send your servant soon.”

“Servant?” She lifted her head.

“I gave leave for a servant. He will have free passage from the Tower, but if he is outside the Tower after curfew, he won’t be allowed back in until the next morning. And he cannot leave the grounds between curfew and morning, either.”

“My thanks.”

He looked away. Her gratitude seemed to prick his conscience.

“I left my satchel in the Queen’s Chambers. Can I have it returned?” She walked towards him, and he edged out of the doorway, back into the main chamber, relieved.

“What is in it?” His voice took on a sharper edge, suspicious.

“My pigments and brushes. My parchment and charcoal. I have a number of commissions to complete for the King, and I will need them if I am to fulfil my obligations.”

“What were you doing this morning with the Queen?” Kilburne went to stand by a window, looking out over the Green.

“I was there to present her with a portrait of the Princess Mary.”

“A portrait? I saw none.” He turned, his eyes narrowed.

“The Queen held it in her hands when she spoke to you.” Susanna kept her tone mild. “It is on an oak panel, about this big.” She showed him with her hands. “A small portrait the Queen can take with her when she travels with the King. Something she can look at whenever she wants.”

She saw he recalled the Queen was holding something in her hands, and nodded slowly. “What has Wolsey against you?”

She shrugged. “A few months ago I prevented him from achieving a goal. And he has never forgiven me for it.”

Kilburne stared at her a long time, as if trying to understand how a woman with no powerful connections could stand in the Cardinal’s way. “There is more to this than I wish to know.”

“There is more to this than
I
wish to know.” She crossed her arms in front of her, and stared back at him. “And yet, here we both stand.”

Kilburne shook himself, as if trying to wake from a dream, or shake water from his eyes. “My men will not harm you again.” He moved to the door.

“They want to.”

Her words stopped him dead. “My apologies for what happened. I don’t think it will happen again.”

“You’ll forgive me if I’m not reassured that you are not absolutely certain.”

He rubbed his face with his hands. “You are in more trouble than I first thought.”

Susanna smiled as he stepped out her rooms, and knew Kilburne’s hesitation before swinging shut the door was because of the bleakness he saw in her face. She waited for the click as the door closed. Tightened her arms in front of her. She was in trouble, that was certain, and being a prisoner in the Tower was the least of it.

Chapter Fourteen

he would rather govern rich men than be rich himself; since for one man to abound in wealth and pleasure when all about him are mourning and groaning, is to be a gaoler and not a king.

Utopia by Thomas More (translated by H. Morley)

H
orenbout stared at Parker, mouth open. “The Tower.” He stuttered out the words.

“She was arrested this morning.”

Lucas jumped to his feet, gasping, and leapt for the basin in the corner of the room.

Parker watched him dispassionately as he vomited and heaved, until at last he stood, spent and shaking, his breathing harsh.

“I never meant . . .” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I never thought . . .”

Parker straightened. He had never wanted to kill someone so badly. Every muscle, every tendon, screamed for action, screamed for him to flick his arm, palm his knife and throw it.

Straight into Horenbout’s throat.

“Don’t look at me like that.” Lucas’s eyes were wide, and Parker smelt the stink of fear in his sweat.

“My life was calm, happy, before you came along, Horenbout. Now my betrothed is in the Tower and my life has gone to hell.” He couldn’t help it, he did palm his knife into his hand.

“She is my sister. You think I wanted this?”

Parker flicked the knife upward, so it arced through the air. He caught it by the hilt. “You knew it was a possibility. But you endangered her anyway. Without asking her permission, without any precautions. The speed with which your plan has been uncovered tells me this was either done by amateurs, or someone wanted you and Susanna in trouble.”

“I didn’t engineer this. I’m just the messenger,” Lucas shouted, then gripped his head, rocking on his heels. “
Mijn God
.” He looked about to faint.

Parker felt no sympathy. “Why did you run yesterday? Who hit you over the head?”

Lucas groaned, and stumbled to the bed, flopped down on it and lay, eyes closed. “I was upstairs in my room. I saw someone come over the wall. He looked like a ruffian, a thug.” Lucas massaged his temples. “I grabbed a few things, and ran out the front door.”

“Straight to your meeting with Heyman.”

Horenbout’s eyes flew open at that. “He told you of our meeting?”

“He thought it would prove he didn’t knock you senseless.”

“Jan didn’t hit me over the head.”

“Who did then?” Parker stepped right up to the bed, to read his brother-in-law’s eyes.

“I never saw them, they came from behind—”

“Then it could have been Heyman. He was certainly the only one we found on the scene. And he knew where you would be, and when.”

“I don’t believe it,” Lucas whispered. “We . . .” He fell silent, cast a quick glance at Parker from the corner of his eye, and then winced at the pain it cost him. “I
won’t
believe it.”

Parker took a step back from the bed. Lucas and Heyman both went quiet with fear when he probed about their association. Heyman had risked serious harm when he’d refused to answer.

Someone very powerful lay behind this.

Someone they thought could reach right into Henry’s court, if they so wished.

“The Emperor Charles.” He didn’t know he had spoken aloud until Horenbout groaned, and turned away, his head in his hands.

“Leave me alone.” He buried his face into his pillow.

“Oh, I will. My lady is locked in the Tower, and I need to find a way to free her without jeopardizing our entire future at court.”

Horenbout lifted himself up. “And if you can’t?” He looked like a madman, ready for a place in Saint Mary of Bethlehem, his hair standing straight up and his eyes wide and desperate.

“If I can’t, I’ll have to find a way to free her and escape England.”

“You think me to blame for this, but I’ve sacrificed as well. Tried to protect us all—”

“If there is anything you know that can help me, tell me now.” Parker cut him off, sick of the sight of him. He moved towards the door.

Horenbout looked ready to speak, then sank back onto his pillow. Turned his face away.

Parker hesitated at the threshold. “If you know something useful and are holding it back and Susanna is hurt, no place you hide will be safe from me.”

He took the stairs at a run, and behind him, he heard Lucas begin to sob.

* * *

The last time Parker had been this nervous before meeting the King, he’d been young, without connections, with nothing but a dangerous letter and his wits as currency.

Things were all too different now. He had so much more to lose, but he walked past the courtiers and other Privy Chamber gentlemen, towards the guards of the King’s Closet, without hesitation or falter.

One of the guards stepped into the Closet, and Parker heard his name murmured. But when the man stepped back out, he shook his head.

“His Majesty is busy, he can see no one.”

Parker wanted to push them aside and walk in, anyway. But after his unthinking comment the night before, he was not as sure of his welcome as he usually would be.

“This is urgent.”

The guard hesitated, but he had delivered urgent messages from Parker before, and eventually the man stepped back in. He heard the King’s voice, sharp and annoyed, and the guard had a deep flush on his cheeks when he appeared at the door.

“Aye. Proceed.” He stepped aside for Parker to enter.

“Your Majesty.” Parker bowed in the doorway, and waited for Henry to invite him in.

The King looked up from his papers and gave a nod, and Parker stepped inside. The door closed behind him.

Francis Bryan stood beside the King, freshly returned from some diplomatic mission abroad. Parker had missed seeing him these last few months.

Henry didn’t send Bryan out, and Parker knew he was being punished for last night’s blunders. Being denied a private audience.

Bryan looked between them, uncomfortable. There were dark rings under his eyes, and his hands shook, the tip of a quill fluttering between his fingers.

“My betrothed was arrested from the Queen’s chambers this morning and taken to the Tower.” Parker did not let the anger that flared up just saying the words show on his face.

Henry let his quill fall. “Wolsey?”

From the corner of his eye, he saw Bryan’s head jerk at the news.

Parker nodded.

“I didn’t authorise it.” Henry spoke slowly, a frown creasing his forehead.

“I know.” Parker flexed his hands. “Will you authorise her release?”

Henry leaned back in his chair, and pressed the tips of his fingers together. “I cannot ignore Wolsey’s accusations. If Mistress Horenbout is innocent of the charges my Lord Chancellor has made against her, she will be released soon enough.”

“You know why he’s done this.” Parker kept the fury from his voice with an effort of will. “She was acting for you when she made Wolsey her enemy. Risked her life in your service.” Parker took a step towards the King, and Henry shifted in his chair. Scraped it back and walked to the window, looking out at the river.