Mistress Spy

by Mingle, Pamela

  “And why would she not? You ease some of her burdens, make everything simpler for her. That doesn’t mean she genuinely cares for your welfare.”

  Maddy exhaled a long breath. He was most likely right, but she hated to acknowledge it. And how could he really know? It was she who had spent so many days by Lady Dacre’s side.

  “Enough talk of this,” Nicholas said. “We need not decide what to do until we hear from her.” He cut into a blackberry tart and popped a bite into his mouth, then fed her a piece. Juice ran down her chin, and before she knew what he intended, he’d leaned in and licked it away. And then their lips pressed together, and the tang of blackberries was as potent as if she still had them in her mouth.

  “Mmm. I adore blackberries.” And your kisses. While they were devouring the tart, Maddy heard a scratching on the door.

  “That will be Daniel. Do you feel strong enough to see him?”

  “Aye, of course.”

  “Come, Daniel,” Nicholas said.

  Daniel pranced into the room with all the natural exuberance of a boy his age. He was pretending to ride a horse and trotted about the room two or three times before his uncle called a halt to it.

  “Mistress Madeleine will take her leave if you don’t behave like a gentleman when she is about, nephew.”

  “Would you like a bite of tart, Daniel?” Maddy asked. When he nodded, she sliced him a piece, which he devoured in a few bites. “You remind me of my own nephews. They love to play at riding horses, too.” He gave her a quizzical look.

  Ryder said, “How many nephews do you have, Maddy?” Somehow he’d perceived this was what the boy wanted to know.

  “I have two. Andrew and Edward. And I have a niece as well. She is called Martha.”

  “Are they Daniel’s age?”

  “Martha is the eldest. One of my nephews, Edward, is a few years older than Daniel. Andrew has but two years.”

  Daniel smiled and tugged on her hand, and she concluded he’d learned enough about her relations for the time being.

  Nicholas intervened. “No, Daniel, Mistress Madeleine must rest.”

  He stomped a foot and looked petulant. “What does he want?”

  “He wants you to come outside with him. Yes, Daniel?”

  The boy nodded and continued to tug on her hand. Maddy rose, maybe to prove she was capable of standing on her own. “The day seems fine. Why can we not take a turn about your garden?”

  “I sense this is a battle I will not win,” Nicholas said. “Daniel, fetch Mistress Madeleine’s cloak.” After the child had skipped from the room, Nicholas turned to her and laid his hands on her shoulders. “I have something to say to you, Maddy.”

  He looked so serious, his green eyes holding her gaze. She waited, her stomach fluttering. Was he about to reveal her fate if Lady Dacre did not want her back?

  “Can you forgive me for my behavior when we met at the Roman wall? Be assured, I do trust you. At no time have you given me reason not to.”

  Ah. An apology. She hadn’t expected it. “Why did you lash out at me?”

  He looked sheepish. “I am ashamed to admit it, but it was a simple matter of jealousy. The thought of you lying with Musgrave made me furious. And wretched.”

  Her cheeks flamed. Not as wretched as it’s made me.

  He went on. “That a maid of your…your admirable qualities would find such a man attractive vexed—vexes—me exceedingly.

  “I was young, Nicholas. Too childish still to grasp what he really wanted of me before it was too late. I have regretted it ever afterward, most especially now, when I find myself living in close quarters with him.”

  “You do not, that is, there is nothing…?”

  “Are you asking if I still think him desirable?” Maddy couldn’t help it; her lips twitched and Nicholas noticed.

  He gave her the gimlet eye. “You are making sport of me, Madeleine.”

  And then she laughed out loud. “How could you possibly suspect me of such a thing? You know I despise the man, as he does me. And I’m more than a little afraid of him.”

  “God’s blood, I wish this were over!” Nicholas stepped away from her, one hand on his hip and the other rubbing his beard. “I hate to think of you trapped in that house with him loitering about. He may be Cecil’s man, but he is the kind of agent who has no scruples. I’ve run into them before—my father has had men like that working for him.”

  “Let us not talk of Musgrave.” She came up behind him and ran her hand lightly down his arm. “Perhaps before Daniel comes racing in you could enlighten me about my ‘qualities.’ The ones you find admirable.”

  He turned carefully, as though he did not want to break her hold on him. But before he could speak, Daniel burst through the door. “Later,” he whispered, just before Maddy leaped away from him.

  …

  Daniel led the way outside, marching them through the glass house Nicholas used for forcing blooms. A profusion of roses, white and dusky rose and vibrant red, spilled out of containers.

  “Is this your doing, Nicholas?” Maddy asked.

  Pleased at her interest, he nodded. “I grow them in here during the cold months, the rest of the year in the garden.”

  “Will you tell me what they are?”

  “Most are damasks and gallicas. And a few albas. They’re the white ones.”

  She walked over to a pot that caught her fancy. “I’ve never seen anything like this. They’re lovely.” The petals were striped—pale pink and a true rose color in a single bloom. Nicholas took pride in the gorgeous blossoms, still unique enough to draw interest from those who saw them.

  “That is a Rosa mundi, said to be named for Rosamund Clifford, mistress of—”

  “Henry II. I know the story. ’Tis said Queen Eleanor had her poisoned.”

  “Or did the deed herself. But alas, I believe it is all a myth.”

  “So it wasn’t named for her?”

  “It was. That much is true.” He grasped her arm then. “Come, let’s go outside while we still have the sun.”

  Daniel, unleashing his formidable energy, was running before they’d even stepped through the door. “Will you be all right if I play with him?” Nicholas asked. “There is a bench just there.” He pointed toward the garden.

  “I’ll amble about for a bit. If I feel dangerously close to swooning, I shall sit on your bench.” She raised her brows at him.

  “Very droll, mistress. If I see your prone form on the ground, I may just leave you there.” Nicholas couldn’t stop gazing at her, drinking her in. Her beauty never ceased to enrapture him. It was a heady combination of glossy hair, striking blue-green eyes, and luminous skin. He badly wanted his hands on her body, and Maddy’s on his. By God, if he could only get rid of Daniel for a few hours…never mind. Not possible.

  “Ha!” She waved him away.

  He acknowledged with a healthy dose of regret that what he wanted to do with Maddy, how he’d come to feel about her, was absolutely forbidden because of his work for the queen. He only dared violate it because his father was away.

  What would happen when he returned? Nicholas chose not to worry about that at present. He would deal with it when the time came.

  After shedding their doublets, Nicholas and Daniel began with Daniel’s favorite game—chase—which Nicholas was persuaded the lad subjected him to simply to wear him out. After that, it was wrestling and rolling about on the grass. Daniel could have kept on forever. Finally, Nicholas called a halt. “Off, ruffian!”

  The lad started to protest, but his uncle said firmly, “Enough for now, Daniel.” He helped the child put his doublet back on, whispered something in the lad’s ear, then walked toward Maddy while slipping into his own doublet. She was watching him, and he took the opportunity to allow her a long look. Moving slowly, he lifted his shoulders to adjust the garment to his form. Her cheeks turned rosy and she averted her gaze. Nicholas grinned. Daniel was racing toward the archery butts, and she turned her attention to him
.

  “Do little boys ever simply walk anywhere?”

  “Nay.” Still breathing hard, and not only because of the horseplay, Nicholas lowered himself to the bench. “I told him he could shoot while we talk. Are you warm enough?”

  “Aye. The sun feels wonderful. While I was watching you and Daniel, a vivid picture of my father and Robert playing in much the same way caught me by surprise. Bittersweet…” Her voice trailed off on a sob.

  He put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close, and she laid her head against his chest. “I don’t have a handkerchief with me, but you are welcome to my sleeve,” Nicholas said.

  That made her laugh. “I’ll use my own—handkerchief, not sleeve—if need be, but thank you for the offer.”

  “Do you often think of your brother, Maddy?” Nicholas wasn’t sure why he asked. Perhaps because she was trusting him. Confiding in him, and it felt damned good.

  Maddy straightened up. The flood of emotion, and the accompanying tears, seemed to have ebbed. “Oh, aye. Every day. We had an unusual bond from the time we were children. Robbie was a sickly child, spoiled and cosseted by my mother, with me as her willing accomplice. As he grew older, he took full advantage and somehow managed to dance through life without accepting responsibility for anything.”

  “Such as?”

  “It began with little boy mischief, like the bee attack, among other pranks.”

  “The bee attack?” Nicholas repeated. “That needs explaining.”

  She nodded. “Aye. He was ten at the time. Robbie interfered with the swarm, and of all people, his tutor happened to be outside taking the air. The poor man was stung dozens of times. Rob convinced me Master Ripley smelled like manure, and that was what had attracted the bees.”

  Nicholas tried in vain to stifle a laugh, then apologized.

  “Nay, I understand. ’Tis funny, if you were not the one called to account for it. Looking back on it as an adult, I’m certain my father suspected I was covering up Robert’s misdeeds, so there was no caning. But I was made to work side by side with the shrewish wife of his tutor, in her brew house, for two weeks. I hated her, but even worse was the stink. To this day, my gorge rises if I smell the malt.”

  “There is one aspect of this I don’t understand,” Nicholas said. “If your father suspected…did your mother also? Why were you all complicit?”

  Maddy shrugged. “From the time Robert was young, no older than Daniel, I began to take responsibility for many of his misdeeds. It was my job to keep him on the straight and narrow path, and if he strayed, it was because I failed in my duty.”

  Nicholas was incredulous. “Did your parents expect this of you?”

  She sighed. “’Tis hard to explain. My mother lost several babes and consequently became an invalid. Father was too busy to give Robert much guidance, so it fell to me. I accepted it. We all did.”

  “And as he grew older?”

  “His mischief progressed to more serious offenses. Stealing from the neighbors, setting fire to their hayricks, even poaching. At some point, it became impossible for me to take the blame. My father never would have believed I’d committed certain of Robert’s crimes. And yet, I continued to come to his aid when he begged me for help or advice.”

  “He married quite young and even had children,” Nicholas said, perplexed. “That does not seem like something a man with his tendencies would do.”

  “How do you know that about him?”

  Damnation. He should not have revealed what he knew. She would not like the answer. “Before we assigned you, we thoroughly investigated your family.”

  To his surprise, she did not seem angry, or even irritated, but took it in stride. “Ah. To answer your question, he married Kat because she was with child.”

  “So that was the way of it. Was he a good husband? Father?”

  “Aside from evenings at the alehouse with his friends now and then, I believe so.”

  Nicholas squeezed her hand. “That is a good memory to keep.” No matter what he’d promised his father, it was time to tell her the truth about her brother. “Maddy,” he said, and heard the peculiar ring to his voice.

  But she ignored him, still lost in her memories. “Thinking of Robert, I can’t help comparing him to you, Nicholas.” She turned and looked directly at him. “You have shouldered so much responsibility. I never glimpsed in my brother any signs of the devotion you show Daniel. But I think he was faithful to Kat and protective of the children.”

  Nicholas barely heard the last part of that, so stunned was he by her compliment. “You believe I show devotion to my nephew? That is high praise. I don’t deserve it. I had little choice in the matter.”

  “Nonsense. You could have paid somebody to take him in. You give everything to Daniel. You hold nothing back. Without you, he would be alone in the world.”

  That she admired him provoked a visceral reaction he felt all the way to his loins. “I wish I could kiss you right now. But I do not think I would be able to stop with a kiss.”

  “Nicholas!” He’d made her blush, and he hoped not only from embarrassment.

  Laughing, he rose and pulled her up. “Come. Time for you to rest.” He accompanied Maddy to her chamber and kissed her lightly before taking his leave.

  He was already wondering when he could kiss her again. Hold her. Make love to her.

  …

  It rained during the night. The pitter-patter of the drops against the windows woke Maddy, then lulled her back to sleep. Easter morning dawned fresh and warm, but she could not persuade Nicholas to take her out. He and Margery insisted she needed one day more to rest. Uncle and nephew attended services, and afterward, Nicholas sequestered himself in his study. Was he considering her options, mulling them over, arguing with himself about what would be best for her? She read to Daniel, played with him, but could not keep her mind from drifting toward the closed door, wondering about her future at Lanercost or elsewhere.

  Something else was bothering her, too. Yesterday’s conversation with Nicholas was plaguing her like an itch that needed scratching. She vowed not to think about it. Surely it would come to her on its own.

  The midday meal was a mouthwatering banquet of the meat withheld during Lent. Thick slices of beef, roast pig, all manner of fowl—guinea hen, duck, even swan—accompanied by spring vegetables and strawberry tarts with fresh cream. Eating proved to be the greatest exertion of Maddy’s day.

  At last it came to her. Nicholas had never told her what he wanted when he’d said her name in that odd voice.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Maddy and Nicholas were seated in the drawing room when Margery brought in the long-awaited missive from Lady Dacre. Daniel had been in and out, but now it was quiet. Maddy was sewing, working on a piece of embroidery designed and partially stitched by Daniel’s mother. Nicholas had given her leave to have any of Susan Ryder’s things she desired, and she’d found a treasure trove of fabric and silks in a chest in the blue chamber. Maddy was beginning to feel as though Susan was her second self. Or she hers.

  Every so often, she looked up at Nicholas. After Easter, they had established a comfortable routine, and Maddy believed he enjoyed the peaceful times they spent together as much as she did, each of them with their heads bent over their work. Today he had been studying a map and reading various letters. He did not say, but Maddy felt sure these must have been from his father. A couple of times she’d caught him staring out the window, as though what he was learning upset him or required him to come to a decision.

  “A letter for Mistress Vernon,” Margery said, handing it to her.

  When Nicholas leaped to his feet, acting as if he might snatch it from her, she held up a hand to forestall him. “I’ll read it out loud,” she said, wondering if Christopher Dacre had written it for his stepmother. While Maddy broke the seal, Nicholas waited, arms crossed across his chest.

  28 March 1570

  My dear Madeleine,

  I do heartily apologize for wha
t befell you the night of the raid on the Lanercost property. My stepson and I were certain all the reivers had been chased off, and thus I was confident you would be safe. As you will remember, I saw you back to your bed myself. Had you remained there, I do not believe your abduction would have occurred. Nevertheless, I am most distressed over your suffering at the hands of those brutes and am only grateful the harm they inflicted on you was not worse.

  I hope your recovery proceeds apace and you will soon be well enough to return to your duties here at Lanercost. I find I can hardly get along without you, my dear. You have made an old woman quite dependent on your kind offices.

  Pray inform me of the date you may return to us.

  “She signs it, ‘With regard, Lady Jane Dacre.’”

  Nicholas huffed a sardonic laugh. “She regrets what happened, but obviously believes you brought it on yourself because you did not stay in your bed.” He paused, then said, “What think you, Maddy?”

  “It is her way of scolding me for not doing as she bid. She truly wants me back, I’ll warrant.” Maddy said this while fighting a niggling voice reminding her of Lady Dacre’s actions the night of the raid. She’d been certain her employer was involved in whatever was going on.

  Nicholas looked skeptical. “Has she asked herself why you did not remain in your bed? Why you were prowling about when you were still sick and weak? Does she wonder what you were up to? This is what worries me.” He rubbed at his beard. “She may have guessed you were spying.”

  “Perhaps she’ll talk to me about all of that upon my return,” Maddy said, somewhat defensively. “I can explain what I was doing.”

  “Truly? What will you say?” Before she could answer, he walked over and came down beside her on the settle. “I have reservations about your continuing employment at Lanercost.”

  “But I am close, so close, to discovering something truly significant! I’ve already obtained much information that has been useful—Norfolk’s letter, Lady Dacre’s religious leanings, Dacre and Musgrave’s mention of the Scottish lairds. More. The fact that the raid was a ruse for a meeting between the Dacres and the lairds.”