The Tudor Secret (13 page)

He dropped to one knee before Elizabeth. “I’m overwhelmed to find Your Grace safe and in good health.” Even in the openness of the pavilion, his musk perfume was overpowering, like the breath of a magnificent beast in its prime.

She did not extend her hand to him, nor give him leave to rise. Slipping her handkerchief into her cuff she said, “I can’t complain about my health. As for my safety, that remains to be seen. This court was never a place of refuge for me.”

He glanced up. She’d spoken lightly, almost offhandedly, but even he could not have mistaken her tone. He reacted as if he had, however, replying huskily, “If you let me, I will make this court and all the realm places of refuge and glory for you.”

“Yes.” She smiled. “You would do so much for me, wouldn’t you, my sweet Robin? Since we were children, you have always promised me the sun and the stars.”

“I still do. You can have anything you desire. Ask for it and it shall be yours.”

“Very well.” She stared at him. “I wish to see my brother before he dies, without fearing for my life.”

Robert stiffened. Still relegated to his knees, he took longer than expected before he managed to say, “I … I dare not speak of that. And neither must you.”

“Oh?” She tilted her head. “Why? Surely friends have nothing to hide?”

“We do not,” he said. “But it is treason to speculate on such a matter, as you know.”

Her laughter rang out. “I’m relieved to hear someone in your family still has a conscience! And that, apparently, my brother still lives. It would no longer be treason to speculate if he did not.” She paused. “I thought you said I could have anything I desired. Would you fail me now in my hour of need?”

“You toy with me.” He sprang to his feet, overpoweringly robust against her slimness. “I did not come to play games. I came to warn you that your right to the throne is in danger.”

“I have no right,” she retorted swiftly, but I detected a weakening in her voice, a supple yielding. “My sister Mary is heir, not I. Thus, if you must warn someone, let it be her.”

Robert reached for her hand. “Come now. We’re not children anymore. We needn’t see who can outwit whom. You know as well as I that the people will not have your sister for their queen. She represents Rome and the past, everything they’ve come to detest.”

“And yet she is their rightful—their only—heir,” said Elizabeth. She yanked her hand from him. “Besides, who’s to say? Mary could change her faith, as so many these days are apt to do. She’s a Tudor, when all is said and done, and we’re not ones to let religion stand in our way.”

Robert regarded her with a discomfiting familiarity. I hadn’t thought about how much history can be collected in a mere twenty years, how much two children reared on a diet of intrigue and deception can come to rely upon each other.

“Do you take me for a fool?” he said. “You know Mary would defend her faith to the grave if need be. You know it, the council knows it, your brother the king knows it, and—”

“Your father knows it best of all,” said Elizabeth. “You might say, he anticipates it.” She eyed him with calculating intimacy that made him look like an amateur. “Is that why you wished to see me? Have we danced around each other these past two days for you to tell me that my sister mustn’t take the throne because she reveres the faith in which she was raised?”

“God’s blood! I came to tell you that in the eyes of the people, you—and only you—have the right to be queen. You are the princess they revere; you are the one they await. They would rise in arms to uphold you, if you would say the word. They’d die in your defense.”

“Would they?” Her voice was a cruel caress. “There was a time when they would have done the same for Mary’s mother. At that time, it was Katherine of Aragon who was the rightful queen and my mother the hated usurper. Would you have me step into a dead woman’s shoes?”

The air between them was charged, the tension so palpable it set my teeth on edge. There was indeed history between them, and far too much emotion. It was my first glimpse into a passion so deep, so volatile, that were it unleashed it would destroy everything before it.

“Why must you always banter with me?” Robert’s voice quavered. “You fear Mary taking the throne as much I do. You know it would mean the end of the Church your father built so he could wed your mother; the ruin of any hope for peace or prosperity. She’ll set the Inquisition upon us within the year. But not you; you have no desire to persecute. That is why you have the people on your side and most of the nobility. And me. Anyone who dared question your right will suffer my sword.”

She regarded him in silence. From my hiding place I could see her hesitation, her terrified understanding of all that was at stake and all she might gain by it. My legs tensed like an animal’s about to spring, imagining her struggle to justify a past smeared by her mother’s spilt blood. Then she spoke. “My right, you say? Is it my right, truly? Or do you mean, ours?”

“It’s one and the same,” he said quickly. “I live to serve you.”

“Inspiring words. They might stir me, had I not heard similar ones before.”

It was the first time in my life I had seen Robert Dudley struck speechless.

“Do you want to know from whom?” Elizabeth added. “It was your father. Yes, my sweet Robin—your father offered me much the same this afternoon. He even used the same arguments, offered the same enticement.”

Robert stood petrified to his spot.

“You can ask Mistress Stafford if you don’t believe me,” said Elizabeth. “She saw him leave my rooms. He barged in—while I was abed—to declare he would make me queen if I consented to marry him. He promised to get rid of his wife, your mother, for me—or rather, for my crown. For of course I would have to make him king. Not king-consort, but king in his own right, so that should I die before him, say in childbed, as so many do, he could continue to rule after me and bequeath the throne to his heirs, regardless of whether they are my issue or not.”

She smiled, graceful and unforgiving. “So you must excuse me if I don’t react with the enthusiasm you hoped for. I’m fresh out of enthusiasm where Dudleys are concerned.”

Her performance was mesmerizing. She hadn’t breathed a word of this, though it explained why Northumberland had chosen to set Jane Grey on the throne. An experienced courtier, he had a contingency plan, in case his first choice fell through. His declaration at Whitehall on the night of Elizabeth’s arrival—it had been his warning that he was willing to proceed against her if she stood in his way. And she had done just that, refusing him and everything he contrived to obtain for her and in return issuing her own declaration of war.

As Cecil surmised, the duke had underestimated her.

The disbelief on Robert’s face drained his sun-bronzed skin to a chalky hue. I actually felt sorry for him as he said in a faltering voice, “My father … he offered … to marry you?”

“You sound surprised. I don’t see why. The seed is the same as the apple it came from, or so they tell me.”

He stepped to her with such fury that without thinking, I started to lunge. Barnaby’s viselike grasp on my shoulder detained me, coupled with a lightning warning glance from the otherwise motionless Kate. I closed my fist about my dagger hilt. As I did, I saw Kate slip a hand into her cloak, for something no doubt equally sharp. It reassured me that in this instance, at least, she demonstrated her loyalty.

Robert gripped Elizabeth by the arm with such brutality her hair unraveled and cascaded like flame over her shoulders, pearls scattering across the pavilion floor.

“You lie! You lie and play with me, like a bitch in heat—and still, God help me, I want you.” He crushed her mouth against his. She reared back; with a stinging retort that echoed in the electrified air, she raised her hand and struck him hard across the face. Her rings cut into his skin, lacerating his lip.

“Unhand me this instant,” she said, “or by God I’ll never let you near me again.”

Her words were more blistering than her blow. Robert stood stunned, his cut lip bleeding, before he backed away. They faced each other like combatants, their breath audible, heavy. Then the aggression crumbled from his face and he gazed at her with something akin to grief.

“You’re not considering it? You’d not wed him to spite me?”

“If you think that, you are more deluded than he is,” she said, but her voice was trembling now, as though she fought back uncertainty that threatened to undo her. “As if I, a princess born and bred, would ever let some lowborn Dudley rut in my bed. I’d die first.”

He flinched. His face set like stone. It was a terrible moment, sounding the death knell on years of childhood trust. No woman had humiliated Robert Dudley; any woman he’d wanted, he’d had. But despite all his guile, all his vanity and pretense, he desired only one woman, and she had just rejected him with a callous resolve aimed like a spear at his heart.

He drew himself erect. “Is that your final word?”

“It is my only word. King or commoner, I will be no man’s victim.”

“What if that man should declare his love for you?”

She let out a chuckle. “If this is a man’s love, I pray God to spare me any more of it.”

He exploded. “So be it! You will lose it all—country, crown: everything! They’ll take it all from you and leave you with nothing but your infernal pride. I love you. I have always loved you, but seeing as you’ll have nothing to do with it, you leave me with no other choice but to do as my father commands. I will go and arrest your sister, see her to the Tower. And as God is my witness, Elizabeth, when he next sends me out at the head of soldiers, I cannot promise it will not be to come knocking at your door in Hatfield.”

She lifted her chin. “Should that come to pass, then I’ll be grateful for a familiar face.”

Robert bowed furiously and stormed back down the steps toward the palace. The night swallowed him. The moment he was gone, Elizabeth swayed. Kate hurried to her.

“God help me,” I heard her whisper. “What have I done?”

“What you had to,” Kate said. “What Your Grace’s dignity required.”

Elizabeth stared at her. A quivering laugh escaped her. “Squire Prescott!”

I rose, brushing dead leaves from my damp breeches as I came before her. In her eyes I glimpsed an anguish she’d never admit to. “You told me I was in danger of my life. It seems you were right. What shall we do now?”

“Leave, Your Grace,” I said, “before Lord Robert confesses to his father. Once he does, they will have to take you. You already know too much.”

“Strange,” she replied, as Kate removed her cloak from the balustrade and draped it about her thin shoulders. “It seems you do not know him as much as you should, for boys that were raised together. Robert will never go to his father with this. I’ve hurt him in the one place he’ll not forgive or forget, but he’ll not seek revenge through the duke. No, he hates Northumberland now even more than me. He may do as he’s bid and take Mary down like a prize doe, for his pride of manhood demands it, but he’ll never set his father’s hounds on me willingly.”

“Whatever the case, we can’t wait to find out.” I turned to Kate. A lesser woman might have flinched at the tone in my voice. “Any instructions from Cecil we should know about?”

She met my stare. “I am to take Her Grace through the postern gate. There is transport waiting for us on the road. But, you aren’t supposed to be here.”

Elizabeth said, “I am overwhelmed by the concern, and the effort expended on my behalf, but I’ve no desire to leave my Arabian, Cantila, here for the duke’s use. He’s too valuable a friend.” Her lips curled. “Speaking of which, didn’t you say you had friends nearby?”

In answer to her query, Peregrine bounded up out of hiding. “I’ll fetch Your Grace’s horse!” Behind him Barnaby offered stiff genuflection, shreds of leaves in his hair. “My lady,” he said with the warmth of years of familiarity.

“Barnaby Fitzpatrick,” she breathed, “I am glad of you.” She leaned to Peregrine with a wry smile. “Don’t you work in the stables at Whitehall? Where is my dog?”

Peregrine gazed at her in unabashed adoration. “Urian is safe. He is here, stabled with Cantila. I’ll fetch him, too, if you like. Anything you need. It would be my honor.”

“He means it,” I added. I glanced at Peregrine. “My horse Cinnabar is also here, my friend, in case you’d forgotten. And my saddlebag is under the straw.”

Peregrine nodded, flustered. Elizabeth said briskly, “Then it’s settled. Our friend here will fetch my dog and the horses, and meet us at the gate. I’ve a friend of my own outside Greenwich, where we can seek refuge lest the duke sends troops after us. I don’t think it wise to return to Hatfield quite yet.” She paused. A chill went through me as I saw her tense. Even though I anticipated her words, they still took me off guard.

“But before we go anywhere, I must see Edward.”

The Tudor Secret

A deafening hush followed her declaration. I marveled that I should feel any shock; it wasn’t as if she behaved in an unexpected fashion. I also wondered why I tried to convince her otherwise, even as I said: “That’s impossible. We can’t get inside. And even if we could, His Majesty’s rooms are too well guarded. We’ll never get out again.”

Elizabeth regarded me stonily. “Perhaps before we give up, we should ask Master Fitzpatrick, who’s slept at the foot of my brother’s bed these many years. He will know how impossible it is.” She turned to Barnaby. “Is there a way for us to get into Edward’s apartments without being caught?”

To my disbelief, Barnaby assented. “There’s a secret passage to the bedchamber. In times past, His Majesty your late father used it. Last time I checked, the duke hadn’t set a guard there. But I must warn you, if he does, the only way out is through the apartments, and they’re infested with his minions.”

“I’ll take my chances.” Elizabeth returned her gaze to me. “Don’t try to detain me. If you wish to help me, do so. If not, you can meet me at the gatehouse. But I must do this. I must see my brother before it is too late.” She paused. “I … I have to say good-bye.”

Her words tugged at my soul. This, I understood.

Barnaby stepped forth. “I will take Your Grace.” He shot me a look. “I’ll see her to His Majesty and back to the gatehouse safely.”

“Thank you, Barnaby.” She didn’t take her eyes from me. I finally conceded defeat with a sigh, lifting my own gaze past her to the palace and rows of glowing windows. The fireworks display had ended. Furtive storm clouds leaked fragrant humidity. The festivities would reach their apex soon, with the court imbuing free wine and dancing in feverish delight in front of the morose couple ensconced on the dais. The duke would be obligated to stand attendance, keep close watch on the nobles, seeing as the king had not made his promised appearance to bless the nuptials. If ever there was a time to sneak into royal apartments, this was it. Why, then, did I feel a terrible presentiment?

“Ash Kat has sent word to the hall that I’m indisposed,” said Elizabeth, misinterpreting the reason for my silence. “My assorted stomach complaints and headaches are notorious, as is my temper when disturbed. In addition, the duke knows what he said to me this afternoon and he’ll not wish to push his luck. I didn’t tell Robert as much, naturally, but I did not refuse Northumberland completely. I merely said I needed some time to contemplate his offer.”

She smiled coldly. “Of course, that time will soon run out, but unless they decide to break down my bedchamber door, for now, no one will dare intrude on me.”

“Or not while His Majesty lives,” I said. “Once he is gone, you can’t expect mercy.”

“I never would,” she replied. “You are bold, nonetheless, to remind me.”

I looked to Barnaby. “Are you sure it’s safe to use that passage?”

“Providing it isn’t guarded and someone stands watch while we’re inside, yes. Only the king’s favorite, Harry Sidney, is with Edward now. He’ll not raise warning against us.”

“I’ll stand guard.” Kate withdrew a dagger from her cloak. I repressed immediate protest. We weren’t so many that I could afford to disdain help; and we did need someone to watch.

“Fine. Peregrine will come with us. If it looks safe, he can go to the stables. Your Grace does realize your visit with your brother must be brief?”

She pulled up her hood. “Yes.”

With Kate and Peregrine flanking her, I motioned to Barnaby and we edged past the facade of the palace, a stalwart company of five, avoiding the taper light spilling from the loggias and windows. Laughter, uninhibited, slightly frenetic, tumbled from open panes; the revelry in the hall was in full sway.

I wondered if the duke had been obliged at the last minute to let more courtiers into the palace than he’d have preferred. I hoped so. The more distractions he had to contend with, the more time it would give us to get in and out of Edward’s rooms. Elizabeth’s absence from the nuptial celebration had surely been noted; Northumberland might even have decided that some incentive was required to facilitate her contemplation of his offer and had set guards at her doors at this very moment. Much as I disliked the thought, we had to be ready for every eventuality.

I stole a glimpse at Barnaby. If I ever found myself in a brawl, he was someone I’d want on my side. “Barnaby,” I said in a low voice. “Will you promise me something?”

“Depends on what it is.”

“If something goes wrong, will you do whatever you must to see her safe?”

His bared teeth gleamed. “Did you think I’d leave her to that pack of wolves? I’ll see her safe all right. Or die trying. Either way, they’ll never get hold of her.”

We passed into an enclosed ward, fronted by the palace. An odd derelict-looking tower rose at one end. I smelled the aroma of the river nearby.

Barnaby halted. “The entrance is in that tower.” He went still. I likewise came to a halt, an unspoken curse on my lips. The others also paused. In the silence, I heard Elizabeth draw a sharp breath between her teeth. “Sentries,” she whispered.

There were two of them before the tower, which squatted among Greenwich’s soaring tiers like a medieval toadstool. The guards, sharing a wineskin and conversing, were not keeping an eye toward whoever might approach. They probably didn’t expect anyone on a night like this, with the duke’s son’s wedding afoot. It explained why they were probably half drunk and surly, lounging by the wall. They’d been left in the cold to watch over a doorway few knew about, while the court fattened itself inside on roast meat and frolic.

“I thought you said it was safe,” I said to Barnaby.

He grunted. “It usually is. I guess our lord the duke isn’t taking any more chances. He never had that entrance watched before.”

I glanced at Elizabeth. Inside the hood of her cloak, her face was like a pale icon, the toll of her encounter with Robert hidden in her eyes. “There are only two,” she said in response to my unvoiced question. How could I have thought she’d say anything else? “We’ll have to find a way to distract them.”

Before I could reply, Kate shifted to me. Her apple-tinged fragrance made me acutely aware of how much she had begun to affect me, much as I wanted to deny it.

“I have an idea. Her Grace and I have played similar games before, albeit with a different caliber of gentlemen. But men are still men, and these two have drunk more than their share. If you and Barnaby are amenable, I believe we can accomplish this task with a minimum of effort.”

I stared, speechless. Barnaby grinned. “Now, there’s a lass after my own heart.” Even as I struggled for a reasonable refusal, Elizabeth tugged her hood farther over her head, concealing her face. I reached for her arm. “Your Grace!” I ignored her barbed glance at my fingers. “Please, think before you do this.” I shot a look at Kate. “You could both be arrested.”

“I have thought of it.” Elizabeth reached down and pried my hand from her sleeve. “It is all I have thought about since I came to court. I told you, I must do this. Are you willing to see it through or not?”

I met her stare and nodded. Kate muttered instructions, such as they were, then flipped back her hood to expose her face. With a deliberate sway of her hips, she sauntered over to the two men as they passed the wineskin between them.

“Time to fly, my friend,” I said, and Peregrine fled into the darkness.

I gripped my blade, watching with my heart in my throat as Kate and Elizabeth neared the men. The sentries had come to their feet, startled but not suspicious. The random light cast by the waning moon and reflections of candles in the palace’s upper windows were enough to show the intruders were women, who had wandered into the gardens. And women who wandered into gardens at night were, by the very act, not considered ladies.

The larger of the two men lumbered forth, a lascivious grin on his face. Kate was in the lead. Elizabeth lingered a few paces behind, her elegant stature made more pronounced by her hooded cloak. I doubted the sentries would bother to notice that the cloak’s velvet was costly, but should her face be revealed by some mishap, I had no illusions as to whether or not she’d be recognized. There wasn’t another face like hers in all of England.

“Be on the ready,” I said to Barnaby. He grunted in response.

The guard’s voice carried into the night. “And what are these pretty damsels doing here?” He was already reaching a grubby paw to Kate, and my fist closed convulsively over my dagger hilt. Barnaby murmured, “Easy, lad. Give her a moment.”

Kate effortlessly evaded the man’s grope. Cocking her hip and head in a disingenuous display, her right hand hidden within the folds of her cloak, where I knew she’d stashed her own blade, she said, “My lady and I had thought to escape the air of the palace. It’s so loud and hot inside. We were told there’s a pavilion nearby, but alas, we seem to have lost our way.”

She paused. Though I couldn’t see it, I was certain she was gracing the man with one of her artful smiles. Peril notwithstanding, her audacity made my unwitting admiration of her only increase. She had the heart of a lioness. No wonder Elizabeth trusted her.

“A pavilion?” The guard glanced at his companion, who stood, gazing warily. The less drunk of the two and therefore the one to watch. “Did you hear that, Rog? These ladies were looking for a pavilion. Ever heard of the like ’round here?”

The one called Rog didn’t answer. I saw Elizabeth tense under her cloak, her shoulders involuntarily squaring. It wasn’t so much the gesture that alerted the man as the manner in which it was done. With that one movement, she exposed herself as someone of import, unaccustomed to being questioned, and Rog reacted. He strode to Kate, chin thrust forward in the universally belligerent display of men who think they have some power.

“There’s no pavilion in these parts that I’m aware of. I must ask you ladies to give us your names. This is no time to be out alone.” He cast a pointed stare at Elizabeth. “I would see you returned to the palace and the hall, my lady.”

Kate laughed. “Surely this palace poses no danger, what with all these celebrations going on. But I see we were misled. We would welcome an escort, if you would be so kind.”

It wasn’t the plan, but she was improvising as she could, trying to dissuade further questioning and secure us the cover we needed. And it would work, if she could lure them to the wall where Barnaby and I lurked at the ready. The thick shadows cast by the tower would serve almost as well as its interior.

Rog wasn’t taking the bait. He’d not removed his suspicious stare from Elizabeth; and just as I felt the situation becoming too strained and that Barnaby and I would have to act, with a thrust of hand as swift as it was inescapable, Rog yanked back the princess’s hood.

Dead quiet fell. Elizabeth’s pale skin and fiery tresses glowed. The larger guard let out a strangled gasp. “God’s bones, it’s—she—”

He didn’t finish. Kate threw herself at him, her knife raised in a scything arc. Barnaby and I rushed forward, fleet as hounds. I hadn’t thought we might have to murder these two men, but in the heat of the moment, with my own knife ready, I understood it was exactly what our survival might require.

I reached Kate as she grappled with the guard, his fist closed about hers, fending off her knife and guffawing as he did it. Grabbing her by the shoulder, I whirled her away and slammed my own fist as hard as I could into the man’s face. I felt my knuckles connect with bone. The guard went down with an audible smash onto the cobblestones.

I spun around to see Barnaby dodging the sword Rog had yanked from his scabbard. Even as I realized Barnaby’s dagger was no match for the sword and it was only a matter of moments before Rog delivered a lethal blow, I caught sight of a blur of movement, a swish of dark cloak.

A long white hand came up.

I heard a wet crack. Rog stood perfectly still. His sword wavered, dropped clattering. He swayed, half turning in disbelief to his attacker. A thin line of blood seeped down his forehead.

Then he fell, face forward.

I met Elizabeth’s eyes. The stone she held dropped from her fingers. A speck of blood spattered their tapered length. Kate ran to where the princess stood. “Your Grace, are you hurt?”

“No. I’ll wager this one, however, will wake with a headache he won’t soon forget.” Elizabeth looked almost in disbelief at the man sprawled at her feet. She lifted her eyes to me. As I stepped to her, Barnaby bent over Rog to check his pulse.

“He lives,” Barnaby pronounced.

Elizabeth exhaled. “Merciful God. They were only doing their duty.”

Kate pushed disheveled hair from her brow, her color high in her cheeks. “What a pair of louts! Can Northumberland find no better than these to do his work?”

“Let us hope not.” Barnaby took Rog by his wrists and started hauling him toward the tower doorway. I gestured to Kate. “Come, help me.”

Urgency overcame us. With Kate and Elizabeth lending assistance, we dragged the larger guard through the door into a small round room, such as might be used for storage. A rickety set of stairs spiraled up toward a concave ceiling.

We lay the guards side by side. I went back to retrieve the sword. When I returned, Barnaby was using his belt to bind each of the inert men’s wrists together, palms facing. He took the handkerchief Elizabeth gave him, ripping it in half and stuffing the pieces of cloth into the men’s mouths. “Not much of a hindrance if they really want out,” he said, “but it should hold them otherwise.”

“I’ll see they don’t stir.” Kate took the sword from me. “If they so much as breathe too loud, I’ll skewer them like a Mayfair swan.”

Elizabeth had moved to the staircase. Barnaby stopped her, “No, this way.” He walked around the stairs to the seemingly solid wall. He reached down to lift a flagstone. I watched, amazed, as he pressed a concealed lever with his foot.

The wall opened outward, revealing an archway. Beyond, another narrow staircase wound upward into cobwebbed gloom. Elizabeth glanced from Barnaby to me. “It’s very dark.”

“We can’t risk any light,” said Barnaby. She nodded, went to the stairs.