Mistress Spy

by Mingle, Pamela

  Nicholas dropped Daniel to the ground and shooed him toward the archery butts. “I am glad to see you in good spirits, Maddy. Come.” They sat on the bench, turning to face each other. “Master Carleton is taking charge of the investigation,” Nicholas said. “He will want to question you.”

  “I didn’t look closely at Cath’s body after I realized what it was. Not close enough to discern any marks or wounds. How will the authorities be able to tell she was murdered and did not simply drown?”

  Nicholas’s eyes drifted away, and she could see he was considering how much to reveal. “She had bruises on her neck indicating she was strangled,” he finally said. “And many lacerations on her body, although ’tis hard to tell if those resulted from her time in the river or a beating.”

  Tears welled in Maddy’s eyes. “How frightened she must have been. She was so young, Nicholas.” He grasped her hand and held it tightly while she wrestled with her sadness. “Who will tell her parents?”

  “Carleton has that unhappy duty.”

  They were quiet for a brief time, this act of murder colliding with what Maddy had earlier deemed a perfect day, sneaking in without warning and violating them.

  “I know this will be difficult for you, given your feelings about John Musgrave,” Nicholas said, “but I must ask you to try very hard not to be judge and jury in this case, Maddy. When Master Carleton questions you, you must tell what you know without accusing anybody. The justice of the peace will weigh the evidence and determine if it is sufficient to make an arrest.”

  “But I am sure beyond anything that Musgrave is the devil who did this! Are you asking me not to reveal what passed between him and Cath?”

  “I did not say that. Only that I want you to relate the dealings between them as you observed them, including your own intervention, without giving your opinion.”

  “Are you saying I should not tell him Cath was frightened and came to me for advice?”

  Nicholas heaved an impatient sigh. “No, of course not. Only that it is important for Master Carleton to be objective, to consider the facts. All the facts. As much as you would like to think it, we cannot know that Musgrave is responsible for Cath’s murder until Carleton looks into the matter and reaches his conclusions.”

  Unexpectedly, a harsh voice interrupted them. “What is she doing here, Nick?”

  Francis Ryder had returned.

  Maddy did not rise or acknowledge him in any way. If he would be rude to her, she would treat him in kind. Nicholas stood and said, “It’s a long story, sir. How was your journey?”

  “My journey be damned,” he answered. “I want to know what has transpired in my absence, and why the wench who’s supposed to be at Lanercost in the service of her queen is here in Brampton.”

  “Come to the library with me, Father. We can talk there.” Not another word was spoken by either of them as they strode away. There was much to relate. Maddy doubted she would see Nicholas again until supper. She walked over to Daniel and the two of them practiced their shooting until evening was nearly upon them. Maddy’s prowess with the bow would become legend if she continued to hone her skills with such frequency and exactitude. Daniel, too, was turning into quite a marksman.

  “Come, Daniel,” she said. “We must wash before our meal.” He took her hand and they ambled toward the house together. In the dim light, she glimpsed Nicholas coming toward them. Soon he drew near enough for her to make out his grim expression.

  “Nephew, Margery is waiting for you upstairs. Go find her.” His voice and manner brooked no argument, and the little boy ran off. They entered through the glass house, and Nicholas stopped her. “My father wishes to speak to you. I’ve told him everything, including what happened today.”

  Maddy nodded, then followed Nicholas toward the library. She had known this idyllic time with him would come to an end. Nothing so happy lasts long, at least not in her experience. Today’s nightmarish discovery of Cath’s body had been only the beginning. And now this. There was no use asking what the man wanted of her. It would be an interrogation, with more threats thrown in to frighten her. Her knees trembled, and she clenched her hands together. Stand your ground, Madeleine. Nicholas will back you up. Didn’t he say so?

  Upon entering the room, Maddy was surprised to see Francis Ryder seated on a chair before the fire instead of standing in an intimidating posture. She curtsied and said, “Good even, sir.”

  “Pray be seated, Mistress Vernon. My son tells me you have been ill.”

  “Aye. But I am well now.” Nicholas led her to the cushioned settle.

  “Unfortunately, your illness does not change your circumstances, nor the urgency of your mission at Lanercost. Your presence there is required, now more than ever. Since Nick tells me it is your wish to return, this should not be too much of a hardship for you.”

  “I did wish to return, it is true. Until today, I was certain of it. But after finding Cath’s—the serving girl’s—body, I am fearful. John Musgrave—”

  “Is also on the queen’s business and under a direct order to stay away from you.”

  Shocked, she asked, “Has he known all along of my reason for being at Lanercost?”

  “He was not informed until recently. I wish you to bear in mind that we currently have no proof he is culpable in the death of this serving girl.”

  “Nicholas told you of the dealings between him and Cath? And of my involvement?” She glanced at him, then back to his father. “And that he tried to rape me?” Nicholas winced, but this was not the time to spare anybody’s feelings.

  “My son told me a while back of Musgrave’s threats against you. As I said, he has been warned.”

  Maddy thought for a moment, staring into the fire. Everything she’d told Nicholas earlier still held true, yet she was reluctant. A deep unease had taken root in her, and she knew it was largely due to Cath’s murder. Could there be a connection between her demise and whatever else was going on at Lanercost? She remembered how Lady Dacre and her stepson had looked the other way when Musgrave was seducing Cath, instead of offering her their protection. Maddy did not have all the pieces of the puzzle yet. She would have to return to find them and put them all together. For now, she would keep this notion to herself.

  “Mistress?”

  Francis Ryder’s voice, surprisingly gentle, called her back to the moment. “I’ll return, even though my instincts are warning me not to.”

  “You have little choice in the matter, as you have not yet discharged your debt to the crown. There is more work to be done before you may regain your freedom.”

  Ah, this was the Ryder Maddy had expected. Should she tell him that’s not what Nicholas had said? Before she could decide, he spoke up, looking at her earnestly.

  “You don’t have to do this, Maddy. As far as I’m concerned, you have earned the right to refuse. You’ve given us much valuable information, intelligence that has carried this investigation forward.”

  Francis Ryder gave his son a hard, cold glare. “This is my operation, Nick, and I say Mistress Vernon must continue to do my bidding. This matter is not finished, is it?”

  “And I say it is too risky,” Nicholas said. “There are other ways—”

  Maddy interrupted. “If I go back, I want to know everything, starting with what was in Norfolk’s letter. You must have some inkling of what they are planning. I need to know what that is, especially at this stage.”

  Father and son exchanged a look. “Go ahead, Nick.”

  Beard rubbing ensued, a gesture that was becoming dear to her. “You will insist on this, then, Maddy? I cannot stop you?”

  “I must finish it, Nicholas. For all the reasons I explained earlier.” If his father had not been present, she would have gone to him and thrown herself into his embrace. She needed the reassurance, and so did he.

  “Very well, then. Norfolk’s letter. It was a poorly designed cipher meant to inform the Dacres that he would be arriving around the time of Mary Stewart’s trip to Ca
rlisle. He warned them about any further action against the queen that would arouse suspicion or bring unwanted attention to the region. He also implied he would require their assistance upon his arrival in the North.”

  “If I remember correctly, he seemed to believe he would be released from the Tower by the time of the visit. Has that happened?”

  “No,” the elder Ryder said. “At this point, I think we can rule out his showing up here.”

  “He could escape,” she said.

  “Highly unlikely. He is too heavily guarded. Oh, the queen will release him at some point, but I do not believe she’s prepared to take that step yet.” Francis Ryder had an almost unnatural stillness about him. He showed no outer sign of worry or hesitation, only an overarching self-assurance.

  “What should I be watching—and listening—for?”

  Nicholas was quiet, letting his father do the talking. “That’s the tricky part. I’m afraid we don’t know much more than we ever have. Your instincts are good. Rely on them.”

  “So—nothing. You can tell me naught, other than I should not expect Norfolk to show up?”

  “Father,” Nicholas said. His voice held a note of warning. A challenge. “Tell her the rest.”

  That earned him a glower from his parent. “The less she knows, the more honed her instincts will be. If she is anticipating one thing only, she may miss something else.”

  “Believe me, sir, I will be mindful of any piece of information, no matter how trivial, no matter if I do not fully comprehend it.”

  After eyeing her for a moment, he said, “Fair enough. We suspect something is afoot to coincide with Mary Stewart’s sojourn in Carlisle. But we don’t know what or when. The Dacres are a party to this, which is the reason they staged the false raid as a cover for meeting with the Scottish lairds.”

  “That sounds rather vague. Can you tell me anything more?”

  “Aye, we can,” Nicholas said. “We think there may be an attempt to abduct—rescue, in their eyes—Mary while she’s in Carlisle for the visit with her child. Any piece of intelligence regarding that possibility will be of primary importance.”

  His father jumped in. “But herein lies the problem.” He leaned forward, regarding Maddy closely. “We’re not at all certain about that. And to muddy the waters further, that is not the only thing we must be on the lookout for. Allies of the Earl of Moray, Mary’s late brother and erstwhile regent, may take this as a prime opportunity to assassinate her, so that she will never be restored to the Scottish monarchy or have any influence over her son. And then we have the Marians, Mary’s staunch supporters, some of whom are accompanying her on this trip and may use the opportunity to make their own mischief. We simply don’t know at this point.”

  Nicholas rose. “We’ve said enough, Father. An attempt on Mary’s life should not concern Mistress Vernon. Lady Dacre and her son would most likely be involved only in the rescue plot and may be working with the Marians in that.” He turned to Maddy, looking weary of the whole business. “We’ll soon find out. With your help.”

  When had this become so complicated? She got to her feet and paced away from them. “By God’s light, I have less chance of discovering the truth than finding the threepence in the Christmas pudding.”

  Francis Ryder scowled at her. “If you are not able—”

  Maddy interrupted. “When will I return? Do we need to inform them first?” Nicholas moved to gaze out the windows, silent.

  “We’ll send a missive tomorrow. You’ll leave the following day. Is that satisfactory?”

  “The letter should be from me,” Maddy said.

  “I agree. See to it after supper.”

  She nodded. Ryder stood to leave. He actually honored her with a short bow, but that meant nothing. She didn’t trust him anymore than she ever had. He needed her now, but at the end of this, would he let her go? Or would it suit his purposes better to rid himself of her because she knew too much? From all Nicholas had revealed, and what she’d witnessed herself, he was ruthless enough to do it. Maddy sat back down, looked at Nicholas, and said, “Well.”

  He eased down next to her. “How I wish I had never gotten you into this,” he said, his voice ragged. “If only you had not taken part in Leonard Dacre’s raid—Dacre’s folly.”

  She put a hand on his arm. “How many times I have wished my brother hadn’t joined the rebellion. But I can’t change the fact that he did.”

  With a tormented look, he pulled her into his arms. “Maddy, dear Maddy. How shall I keep you safe? And how shall I do without you when you are away?”

  Fear, and the uncertainty of their future, trembled in the air between them.

  After the evening meal, Maddy composed a letter to Lady Dacre. It was simple and concise, stating that she was now well and would be returning two days’ hence.

  Nicholas insisted on accompanying her to Lanercost, but dread was her true companion. It seemed to be mounted behind her, nudging her, in case she forgot just where she was headed. The day was overcast and pale, hazy light cast a pall over everything. Even the river looked brown and dull. Maddy insisted they part ways before reaching the gatehouse. They dismounted, and Nicholas grasped her arms. “Get word to me right away if you feel endangered, Maddy. My father was right about using your instincts. If you feel threatened, there is most likely a good reason for it.”

  She nodded. Her sense of apprehension was mounting, and she wanted to be on her way and finish this. Face whatever dangers were awaiting her. “Will your man be close by?”

  “Always.”

  She started to pull away, but he wouldn’t let her. “Kiss me, sweeting.”

  Maddy framed his face with her hands and did as he asked. Ah. The sweet press of his lips. The soft bristles of his beard skimming her face. He tasted of mint and smelled like…himself. Whatever else the Dacres might do, they could not steal these sweet moments.

  I love him. Parting from him is the last thing I want.

  Abruptly, she let go. “Adieu, Nicholas.”

  “May God keep you safe, Maddy.”

  She rode away from him, blinking back the tears she didn’t want him to see.

  Chapter Twenty

  Maddy arrived mid-morning, and Lady Dacre was there to welcome her back. She seemed gratified to see Maddy, and they spent the time before dinner at their work while the older lady shared news of the tenants, staff, and servants. Sadly, Maddy realized she no longer trusted her mistress. All she could think was: there is plenty going on here you are keeping hidden from me. No doubt Lady Dacre felt the same way. It was strange that Maddy could enjoy her company, and yet at the same time distrust her. Logic told her she had to be involved with whatever dark deeds were in the offing. But for the moment, Maddy must carry on as though all was normal.

  She was surprised to see both Christopher Dacre and John Musgrave at the midday meal. The latter simply nodded in greeting, but Master Dacre was more welcoming. As well as full of questions, which he asked between bites of salad and swallows of ale.

  “And how do you fare, Mistress Vernon?” he asked. “Is your health restored?”

  “Aye, I am perfectly well, sir.” She deftly deboned the turbot on her trencher, acting as if the matter of her well-being was trivial.

  “My stepmother and I were most distressed that the raiders made off with you, especially given the state of your health. It must have been quite a ride they took you on.”

  At this she looked up. “Indeed. I pleaded with them to leave me be, told them I’d been ill, but they were determined to carry on, for whatever reason.” Maddy wiped her hands on the serviette draped over her wrist and chewed a bite of fish, drenched with a savory cream sauce.

  “And they dropped you near Brampton?” Dacre asked. His tone was accusatory, as if she had planned her own kidnapping. Had wanted it.

  She set her knife down. “Aye. ‘Dropped’ is a good word for it. They shoved me off the horse. I recognized where I was and made my way to my cousin’s house. I suff
ered a relapse of the influenza, and they took care of me. I also had many cuts and bruises, but nothing serious.”

  “So your cousin’s letter said. How is it, mistress, that they seized you? My stepmother said she had tucked you into your bed herself.” The idea that because Lady Dacre had helped her back to bed made her somehow invincible was ludicrous, but both mother and stepson seemed to feel strongly that if Maddy had remained there, she would have been safe. She felt like arguing the point but desisted. He was waiting for an answer, studying her over the rim of his tankard.

  She and Nicholas had discussed a response to this query and decided she should be as truthful as possible, because they did not know what her captors had told them. “Very true, sir, but I could not sleep. The commotion beneath my window frightened me. I wanted to see what was happening.”

  “Where were you when they caught you?” he asked.

  Maddy was beginning to feel uncomfortable. She’d anticipated a few questions, but not this grilling. “I had just stepped outside the hall when they came along. I stayed in the shadows, but a small piece of stone broke loose and gave me away. And that was that.”

  Lady Dacre pointed her chin at her son. “Enough, Christopher. I am quite sure Madeleine does not wish to relive her terrifying experience.”

  No sooner had Maddy gulped some ale, feeling relieved that the questioning was over, than Lady Dacre said, “I am only grateful the same fate did not befall you as befell our Cath.”

  The sight and smell of the food was beginning to nauseate her. Maddy had not expected anybody to mention Cath’s death, at least not right away. And if she’d wanted to ask her about it, why had she waited until now to bring it up, when they’d had that time alone earlier? Surely it was not something to be discussed during a meal.

  “We heard you and your cousin discovered the body,” Dacre said.

  “We did. It is not a pleasant thing to recall.” Maddy was beginning to tremble, and she wrapped her arms about herself to stop it.