by June Francis
He was about to leave the workroom when the door opened and his brother Philip entered. Nicholas’s face lit up. ‘So here you are at last, Pip! I thought I might have seen you over Easter, but Christopher told me that the King was keeping you busy.’
He clapped his younger brother on the shoulder and gazed into his handsome face with its lively vivid blue eyes, noticing traces of kohl about their lids and the odd smear of theatrical make-up. A lock of flaxen hair fell onto his brother’s forehead beneath the russet velvet cap set at a jaunty angle.
‘You’re quite the peacock,’ he added, running an eye over Philip’s well set-up figure, which was clad in a doublet of dark green velvet over a cream-coloured silk shirt; his russet hose was of the finest wool and his codpiece was of soft leather. ‘I presume you have the King’s permission to wear velvet and silk?’
‘Aye, one has to keep up appearances in my calling when in the King’s employ,’ said Philip, sweeping his brother a bow. ‘It’s good to see you—and looking better than I hoped. Could it be that marriage is going to suit you? My felicitations, brother. Christopher wasted no time in getting the news to me whilst you’ve been slaving away for him.’
Nicholas thanked him for his congratulations and extended his felicitations about Rebecca being with child. ‘I must give you two gold coins. One you can keep for the baby, but the other is because you were right about me chasing after a wife—although I could have done without having to return here after just getting married. I did not like leaving Jane. But then we would not have wed so soon if Rebecca had not arrived when she did.’
‘I know how you feel, but Christopher can’t afford to lose the King’s patronage and neither can I,’ said Philip with a sigh. ‘I thought I’d better warn you that Henry is here in the shipyard now,’ he added in a low voice.
Nicholas swallowed a groan. ‘Isn’t he leaving it a bit late in the day to come and see how his ship progresses? I was about to leave.’
Philip perched on the edge of the table. ‘It was a spur-of-the-moment decision on his part. Most likely due to my asking leave to return to Oxford for a few days after informing him of your arrival.’
‘I presume he is aware that our brother sent for me?’
‘Aye, and he knows of the attack on you a few weeks ago. Not that I was the first to inform him of it.’
Nicholas raised an eyebrow. ‘Who did?’
‘Sir Gawain!’ Philip folded his arms across his chest. ‘Twice he’s visited court in the last month. He and Beth are in London at the moment. He told me that a weaver named Willem Godar informed him, and to tell you of this when I saw you.’
Nicholas swore softly. ‘What else did he have to say?’
‘Apparently the man has married a Flemish woman called Berthe.’
Nicholas stilled. ‘That does come as a surprise. Did Sir Gawain tell you aught else about him?’
‘Godar has decided not to buy the lease on Jane’s house.’
Nicholas’s eyebrows shot up. ‘Does that mean he plans to remain in Tenderden?’
‘Possibly,’ said Philip cautiously. ‘Although I wasn’t always listening as attentively as I should have done. I presume you know this Flemish woman?’
‘Of course I do! Didn’t I tell you in my missive that she was my daughter’s wet nurse? She disappeared with Godar from the Blue Boar Inn a few weeks ago. I wonder what Godar’s game is? I can’t see what he has to gain by marrying Berthe.’
‘A mother for his children, apparently,’ said Phillip, stifling a yawn. ‘I remember that much because children are very much on my mind at the moment. I believe there was mention of four boys—one of them a babe in arms.’
Obviously Godar had decided that Nicholas and Jane were unlikely to bring a charge against Berthe for her abduction of Simon, thought Nicholas, so marrying her made sense. He frowned and changed the subject. ‘Have you seen aught of Tomas Vives at court?’
‘No, but that doesn’t say the swine hasn’t been freed from house arrest. I know the Princess has requested the King’s permission for him to sing during the coming celebrations,’ said Philip grimly. ‘Another matter you need to know about right now is that the King wishes not only to discuss your book with you but would like your opinion on another secret matter. There’s no doubt in my mind that he will invite you to attend him at court.’
Nicholas groaned and rubbed his forehead. ‘I have no time to spend at court. I want to get finished here as soon as I can so I can move Jane and the children to Bristol.’
‘So you really intend to settle there? How does she feel about that?’
‘She is eager to see the house we will make our main home, so I’ll make my recent marriage my excuse to the King. Besides, I’d rather not spend too much time in his company,’ said Nicholas, stroking his bristly chin.
‘Don’t be a fool! You can’t refuse the King. Just keep your head down so he doesn’t get a good look at your face. I’d have a closer shave, too, if I were you. His Grace is growing a beard. Anyway, I must add that I want to show you the new disguising hall and have your opinion on my latest play.’ There came the sound of voices and footsteps outside. ‘Here comes His Grace now,’ hissed Philip.
Nicholas stood and braced himself to receive his king. As Henry entered the workroom, followed by a couple of attendants, Nicholas swept off his cap, went down on one knee and kissed the huge ornate ring on the proffered royal hand. The King told him to rise. Nicholas did so, but remembered to keep his head down.
‘I deem I am taller than you, Master Nicholas,’ said Henry, sounding pleased.
Nicholas wondered why the difference in their heights was worthy of mention. Last time he had been this close to Henry, Nicholas had been a lot younger. He cleared his throat and glanced at the glittering bulk of Henry out of the corner of his eye. ‘If I may speak, Your Grace?’
‘Speak away, Master Nicholas.’
‘May I add that your shoulders are also broader and you have a fine leg. I also doubt I could ever match your strength in a tournament.’
‘I swear you speak the truth,’ said Henry, swaggering over to the table. ‘I see you have the plan of my ship here. Rumour has reached me that you have it in mind to build a different ship altogether after you have finished mine, but not here in your brother’s shipyard. Why is that?’
Nicholas did not immediately answer, wondering if it had been Christopher or Philip who had informed the King of his plans. He had thought his elder brother would keep quiet about it, hoping he would yet be able to persuade him to change his mind about setting up in the shipbuilding business for himself.
‘Aye, Your Grace. I inherited property in the Bristol area from my godparents and—’
‘Ha! Bristol! You mention that port in your book.’ Henry lifted his eyes from his perusal of his ship’s plans. ‘So you really have decided to cease your wanderings and settle down now you are married?’
‘Aye, Your Grace.’
‘Hmm! I would not be too certain of that,’ he said ominously. ‘You will attend me at the palace. Your brother will bring you to me. We will have supper together and you can join me in worship on Sunday.’
Nicholas’s heart sank, but he thanked the King and said he was overwhelmed by His Grace’s generosity and would be delighted. The King gave him permission to don his cap and swept out of the room, calling over his shoulder that no doubt the brothers had plenty to say to each other and he would see them both late afternoon on the morrow.
Nicholas rammed his cap back on his head and blew out a breath. He resumed his seat. ‘I cannot see how the King looks like me in any way,’ he rasped. ‘Even so, I wish I didn’t have to attend him at court. I suspect that he has a fresh task in mind for me.’
‘The likeness is there,’ said Philip, drumming his fingers on the table. ‘You just can’t see it because you don’t make a habit of gazing at your reflection in a looking glass—unlike Henry, who has numerous costly mirrors. Fortunately he didn’t get a good look at you, but
I reckon we need to alter your appearance slightly.’
Nicholas shot a glance at his brother. ‘I was starting to believe that I really could settle down to family life, but now I fear that I was being too optimistic,’ he said dourly.
‘I’ve had plenty of time to study the King, and what he said about him being taller than you is his way of saying his stature is so much greater than yours.’ Philip straightened up. ‘It is possible he might already know of our tie to his maternal grandfather. At least you had the sense to flatter him.’
Nicholas said wryly, ‘I haven’t forgotten what you told me about his removing Buckingham’s head from his shoulders due to his arrogance and closeness to the throne.’ He changed the subject. ‘Let’s go and eat. On the way you can tell me about the new disguising hall at the palace.’
‘I can do even better than that,’ said Philip enthusiastically. ‘You can watch us rehearse there and I will introduce you to the artist commissioned to paint a large painting on the wall of the disguising and banqueting halls, as well as two triumphant arches. His name is Hans Holbein and I deem that one day his name will be famous in all the courts of Europe.’
‘I look forward to it,’ said Nicholas, thinking that Jane would have enjoyed seeing the picture and watching Philip and his players perform. He should not have made so little of her suggestion that she join him here. Even so, she was probably safer where she was until the men who had broken into the shipyard were caught.
Chapter Thirteen
Jane held on to her hat as a gust of wind blew rain in her face. She was on her way with the constable of Oxfordshire and Berkshire to Christopher’s house in Greenwich. The hem of her gown flapped against her ankles and the bag she carried bumped against her knee. If it were not for the thought of seeing Nicholas she might have wished herself back in Oxford with Rebecca and the children. They had gone there in company with Tabitha and Dorothea a couple of days after the constable had inspected the Spaniard’s corpse and listened to all that Jane had to tell him. He had also spent some time in conversation with Louise’s sister and Anthony Mortimer. Jane had no idea what they had told him, but he had made no arrest. Instead he had decided he must speak to Berthe. On the way to Kent he had decided he would visit Nicholas in Greenwich.
Even before the constable had spoken of his intention to Jane she had decided that she, too, must see her husband. Now she was feeling more than a little apprehensive.
They arrived at the house and the constable hammered on the front door. It was several moments before it opened, to reveal a woman of ample figure and homely features. She looked harassed and blurted out, ‘What d’you want?’
Jane said, ‘It’s me, Mary. Nicholas’s wife.’
Mary’s eyes widened. ‘By our Lady and St Joseph, what are you doing here? Is there something amiss with Rebecca?’
‘Rebecca is well,’ said Jane in a soothing voice. ‘I have the constable of Oxfordshire and Berkshire here and he wishes to speak to Nicholas about the attack on him a few weeks ago.’
‘Oh, my goodness,’ said Mary, crossing herself. ‘No doubt he is also interested in the attack on my husband and the break-in at the shipyard.’ She bumbled aside to allow them to enter, looking askance at the burly figure in the sodden brown riding coat as the constable stepped over the threshold in Jane’s wake.
He nodded. ‘It could prove useful.’
‘Is Nicholas within?’ asked Jane, glancing up the ill-lit passage.
‘He should be back from the shipyard soon, for he is late for supper,’ said Mary, opening a door on the left. ‘You’d best come into the parlour and warm yourselves. I will fetch refreshments as I am sure you are hungry and thirsty after your journey. My husband has retired to his bedchamber but I will inform him that you are here.’
The fact that Nicholas was late worried Jane, but she followed the constable into the parlour without comment. A few moments later a young maidservant scurried in and asked if she could take their coats and hats, adding that she would place them in front of the kitchen fire to dry.
That done, Jane and the constable settled themselves in front of the parlour fire. She was on pins, wishing Nicholas would come. Fortunately they had been there only a few moments when there came the sound of the front door opening and male voices. Instantly she recognised Nicholas’s voice and relief and joy soared inside her. She hurried out into the passage and spoke his name in a voice husky with emotion.
He whirled round and stared at her wordlessly. Her heart sank. Was he so vexed with her for coming that he was lost for words? Then he strode forward with his hands outstretched.
‘For a moment I thought I was imagining your voice, and due to the lack of light in here I could not see you clearly.’
Relieved, she grasped his hands. ‘You are well?’
‘Aye, and you? I pray you do not bring bad news. Matilda and the other children...?’
‘They are well and staying in Oxford with Rebecca, Tabitha and Dorothea. We thought it safer, and it is more roomy and comfortable for Rebecca.’
He frowned. ‘Why should you deem it safer, what with Vives’s uncle lodging at one of the colleges?’
Before she could explain the constable spoke up, ‘As much as I don’t wish to interrupt, I need to speak to you, Master Hurst.’
Nicholas released one of Jane’s hands and gazed at the man. ‘Constable Treadwell, how good to see you! I presume you wish to discuss the attack of several weeks ago?’
‘Aye—that and the recent discovery of a corpse not far from Draymore Manor.’
‘What?’ Nicholas shot a glance at Jane.
‘James found it,’ she said swiftly. ‘You can imagine the shock it gave the poor boy. Fortunately it was concealed beneath a bramble bush, so he saw just the feet and came running to me.’
‘Who was it? Surely not Mortimer?’
Before she could reply Constable Treadwell said, ‘If you don’t mind, Mistress Hurst? I’ll take over now.’
Nicholas squeezed Jane’s hand before releasing it. ‘Let’s go into the parlour and sit down.’
Philip came alongside Jane and whispered in her ear, ‘Tell me it wasn’t Rebecca’s father?’
Jane whirled round and smiled. ‘No, he is fine. Rebecca is also fit and well and sends her love.’
‘Thank God.’
Nicholas caught the words and glanced over his shoulder at them, but no more was said until they were all seated in the parlour.
‘So what happened?’ asked Nicholas, sitting beside Jane on the settle. ‘Has this discovery something to do with the latest attack on me? Although I don’t see how there can be a connection.’
He felt Jane’s hand slide into his left one and grip it tightly and knew then that the two were tied in some way and she was worried. He took a deep breath. ‘How did this man die? Who was he?’
‘A Spaniard named Vives. I thought you might be able to help me with the rest, Master Hurst,’ said the constable, his eyes intent on Nicholas’s face.
Nicholas frowned. ‘Are you saying that you think I killed him?’
‘I know a man called Vives attempted to kill you last year, and this one is his kin. Apparently he attacked you and you retaliated.’
‘Neither blow I inflicted on my attackers would have caused their deaths,’ said Nicholas vehemently. ‘I unsaddled one without wounding him and the other I hit across the forearm with my sword. How did this man die?’
‘He was stabbed in the chest. Madame Dupon apparently believed you ran him through with your sword and he died later of his wounds on his way to meet his kinsman. I certainly wouldn’t have blamed you, Master Hurst, if you were responsible for his death,’ said the constable. ‘You were, after all, fighting for your life.’
Nicholas’s eyes glinted. ‘I have just explained how I defended myself. Did you find any sign of a possible broken arm or a head injury? In my opinion Madame Dupon was not near enough to see what took place. The wet nurse, Berthe—now, she could have seen what happe
ned.’
‘There was some damage to the arm, according to the physician.’
Nicholas said, ‘Did Madame Dupon swear that she saw me kill this man?’
The constable frowned. ‘No, but she could see no other reason for his death. Although she seemed surprised about where the body was found. She had believed him to be miles away.’
Nicholas leaned forward. ‘If you speak to Berthe then you should also speak to her husband, Willem Godar. He saw a Spaniard in company with Madame Dupon and Master Mortimer the evening after the attack on me.’
‘I wonder why the other Spaniard wasn’t with them?’ said Jane.
Unexpectedly, Philip joined in the discussion. ‘It could be that the two Spaniards quarrelled because their plans had gone awry. Maybe one of them wanted to try once more to kill my brother and the other disagreed. There was a fight and your man was killed and the other fled.’
The constable pursed his lips. ‘It is a possibility. After I have talked with this Berthe and Master Godar I will speak to you again, Master Hurst.’
‘You know where they are?’ asked Nicholas.
‘Tenderden in Kent,’ said the constable, smiling suddenly. ‘Your wife was able to inform me of that.’
Nicholas glanced at Jane. ‘I, too, realised that once I gave their disappearance more thought. Apparently he needed a mother for his children so has married Berthe. Hopefully, she will find fulfilment and contentment in that role,’ he added lightly.
Before any more could be said on the subject, the door opened and Mary and two serving maids entered. One carried a pewter salver of drinking vessels and a steaming pitcher, whilst the mistress of the house and another maid bore trays of bowls of soup, bread, grilled perch and cheese. They set them down on two small tables and Mary bid her guests to help themselves.
Jane could only be relieved that she no longer needed to concern herself about Berthe and Willem. She poured out the mulled wine, listening to Mary informing the constable that Christopher would see him in his bedchamber after he had had some refreshment. Philip and Nicholas had their heads together and thanked Jane absently when she handed drinks to them.
