by C. J. Sansom
I shrugged. ‘The King plays one faction off against the other. He trusts neither now.’
‘So with him it is all politics?’
‘Perhaps he believes every twist and turn he makes inspired by God himself working in his mind.’
He grunted. ‘I think we are agreed at least that the notion God works the King’s mind for him is nonsense.’
‘We old reformers never sought to put the King in the Pope’s place.’ I looked at him. I was not surprised he was a religious conservative, I had gathered as much. Yet the obstinate bitterness he had shown towards his family had shown me a new side to his character. But we all have darker sides to our natures, I thought.
‘Well,’ he said with a sigh. ‘Let us leave these sad topics. We should go and see how young Barak is doing.’
I hesitated, then said, ‘Giles. Before we do, there is something I ought to tell you in my turn.’
He looked at me curiously. ‘What is that?’
‘Yesterday, when I was in your library, looking at your maps—’
‘Ah, yes. Did you find what you wanted? Madge said you stayed a long time.’
‘I did, and thank you. Your collection is truly remarkable.’
He smiled with pleasure. ‘It has been my pastime for fifty years.’
‘Did you know you have some lawbooks there that I think no one else has, that have been lost?’
He gave a childlike smile of pleasure. ‘Really?’
‘Lincoln’s Inn would pay well for copies. But I found something else.’ I took a deep breath. ‘An Act of Parliament, that I think has been excised from the records. Called the Titulus Regulus.’
He sat very still then, looked at me from narrowed eyes. ‘Ah,’ he said.
‘I wondered if you knew you had it.’
‘Yes, I did. You read it? What did you think?’
I shrugged. ‘It repeats the old rumours that King Edward IV’s marriage to Elizabeth Woodville was invalid because of a precontract. Impossible to prove one way or the other now. It seemed to me King Richard was cobbling together all the arguments he could to justify his seizure of power.’
He nodded judiciously. ‘Perhaps.’
‘Yet if it came to light now, it could cause trouble.’
To my surprise he smiled. ‘Matthew, for those of us past seventy, especially lawyers, the suppression of the Titulus is an old story. I was a student at Gray’s Inn when it was published for all the world to see, and also when next year the new King’s men came to the Inns to seize all copies. There is nothing new there.’
‘Forgive me speaking bluntly, Giles, but there will be few left alive now who remember. And that Act could cause embarrassment if it came to light.’
He continued to smile. ‘I found the Titulus ten years ago, when they were clearing old lawbooks from the Minster library. I kept it. But few have any interest in my collection. Martin used to go and look at the books, he was interested, and occasionally one of my fellow lawyers, but I think you are the first person other than me to have spent much time up there in years. And the Act is well hidden in its way, unmarked among the dusty shelves, for I keep the index in my head. And you would not tell Maleverer.’
‘Of course not. But you should know, there is a hunt on for subversive documents at King’s Manor —’
‘A hunt? What documents?’ He looked at me with interest.
‘I cannot say more. But believe me when I say you should get rid of the Titulus.’
He pondered a moment. ‘You speak true, Matthew?’
‘Yes. I care little for any embarrassment disclosure of the Titulus might cause the King. But I would not have you, or anyone, in danger because of that wretched Act. This is not a good time to have a copy in your possession.’
He looked into the fire, considering, then sighed. ‘Perhaps you are right. I have been too vain of my collection. Pride, again.’
‘I hope you have no other dangerous materials in those rooms.’
‘No. Only the Titulus. When I am gone, if the Titulus were found I suppose it could be a problem for my executors.’
‘Yes,’ I said uncomfortably. ‘It could. Madge could end up being questioned too.’
‘Danger to Madge. By Jesu, what has England come to, eh? Very well. Wait here, Matthew.’ He rose slowly from his chair, holding the arm a moment when he stood to get his balance.
‘Do you need help?’ I asked, getting up.
‘No, I am a little wembly after being in bed so long, that is all.’ He walked steadily enough to the door, and left the room. I stood looking into the fire. I wondered if he had made a will, who the library would go to. His nephew, perhaps. And then I thought, if Martin Dakin was a strong political conservative and a lawyer at Gray’s Inn, he was a prime candidate to have been involved with Robert Aske’s group of conservative lawyers there in 1536. And a man likely to be a suspect in the present rebellion; for all I knew Martin Dakin could be in the Tower, like Jennet Marlin’s fiancé, that other Gray’s Inn lawyer.
Giles reappeared. To my surprise he was carrying the book containing the Titulus, together with a sharp knife. He smiled at me sadly. ‘Here, Matthew,’ he said. ‘See how I trust you.’ He laid the book on the table and, taking the knife, carefully cut out the pages of the Titulus. He lifted them with a sigh. ‘There, I have never done such a thing with one of my books before.’ He walked over to the fire and, with a steady hand, laid the pages on the flames. We watched as the thick old parchment flared and blackened. The greyfalcon turned on its perch to watch, the dancing flames reflected in its eyes.
‘That must have been hard to do,’ I said.
‘Well, you are right, we live in dangerous times. Come, look out of the window.’ He beckoned me over and pointed at a small stout man who was walking confidently down the street towards the Minster, clerical robes flapping round him. ‘I saw him from the library. Do you know who he is?’
‘No.’
‘Dr Legh. The Minster Dean. Formerly Cromwell’s most feared commissioner. The hammer of the monasteries.’
I looked at Giles. ‘They made him Dean?’
‘To keep an eye on the Archbishop of York. You are right, Matthew, even mere scholars must keep watch these days.’
I turned back to the window. The figure of a woman had caught my eye, half-running down the narrow street towards the house, skirts lifted above her ankles and blonde hair flying out behind her. It was Tamasin.
Chapter Twenty-four
THERE WAS A LOUD KNOCK at the front door, and a moment later Madge ushered Tamasin into the room. The girl was flushed and anxious-looking, and gave us the briefest of curtsies. ‘Sir,’ she said. ‘I have come from the King’s Manor. The guard on the gate said you had gone into the city and I guessed you might be here. We are ordered to return there now. Is Jack here?’
I nodded. Madge went to summon him. Giles smiled and looked admiringly at her clothes, her green dress and her blonde hair beneath her French hood. ‘By heaven,’ he said. ‘They employ pretty messengers at the court these days.’
‘I fear we must leave without looking at the petitions,’ I said.
‘Well, they are simple enough and we have seen them already. Come to the castle at nine and we can take an hour then.’ He looked at me curiously. ‘Is something amiss? Does Maleverer require you?’
‘I was half expecting a summons,’ I said evasively.
Giles nodded, then went back to studying Tamasin with frank appreciation; she coloured a little.
‘And where are you from, mistress?’ he asked.
‘London, sir.’
‘Like Master Barak.’
Barak appeared in the doorway. He gave Tamasin an anxious look.
‘Well,’ Giles said. ‘I will see you both tomorrow morning.’
I apologized again for our hasty departure, and we left the house.
‘WHAT’S HAPPENED?’ Barak asked as Tamasin led a rapid pace down the street.
‘It is as I thought would happen,
’ she replied a little breathlessly. ‘I was in my room and Lady Rochford herself came in, looking grim as an ogre. She told me to fetch you, Jack. We are to meet her in one of the pavilions. I ran almost all the way.’
‘Looks like you were both right,’ Barak told me. ‘She wants to talk to us, not kill us.’
I took a deep breath. ‘We shall see.’
Tamasin looked at me earnestly. ‘The summons was for me and Jack alone.’
‘I want to see what she says for myself,’ I said firmly. ‘And perhaps she will be less bullying with a lawyer present.’
‘You do not know Lady Rochford, sir,’ Tamasin answered uncertainly.
We walked rapidly to King’s Manor and headed for the pavilions, which had stood guarded but empty over the weekend. ‘ ’Tis the nearer one,’ Tamasin said, leading the way across to the fantastic structure. The towers on either side of the entrance arch, which seemed so like brick till you came right up and saw the grain of wood through the paint, had guards posted in front of them. They crossed their pikes to bar our way. I glanced at Tamasin, who nodded.
‘We are due to meet Lady Rochford here,’ I told one of them.
The guard looked us over. ‘Her ladyship said a young man and woman only.’
‘The instructions have changed.’
As the guard looked me over I was uncomfortably aware that I was carrying a dagger, against all the rules. But he nodded, deciding I was not dangerous. ‘Second door on the left,’ he said. He and his colleague raised their weapons and we passed through. I felt suddenly afraid. What if Lady Rochford was behind everything, and had associates ready to kill us? But that was ridiculous; the soldiers had seen us come in and knew she was here, how could she ever escape discovery?
Beyond the arch a whole inner courtyard had been laid in marble, which the walls had also been painted to resemble. All smelled sweetly of new-cut wood. A number of doorways led off, each with its own guard. I whispered to Tamasin, ‘Won’t the guards think it odd, Lady Rochford meeting us in here?’
‘Lady Rochford’s oddity is well known. And they will see no harm in it – the pavilions will stand empty till the Scotch King comes. Their concern is to prevent servants entering to steal the tapestries and furnishings.’
We walked on to the door the guard had indicated, passing one that stood open, leading into a reception room decorated with brilliant tapestries. I glimpsed a buffet laden with gold plate, servants strewing scented rushes on the floor. Two great chairs of state with purple cushions had been set there. So this was where the kings would meet.
The guard at the next door opened it as we approached. We entered a chamber that was smaller than the one we had seen, unfurnished but with a magnificent series of tapestries showing the life of John the Baptist on the walls. stood at the far end. She wore a bright red dress, low-cut to show her upper bosom, which like her face and neck was white with ceruse; her dark brown hair was drawn back tightly under a French hood lined with pearls. She had composed her features into a Lady Rochford haughty frown, which intensified as she looked at me.
‘Why have you brought this lawyer?’ Her rich voice rose. ‘God’s death, Mistress Reedbourne, if you try to set a lawyer on me I shall set something far worse on you.’
I bowed, then looked her in the eye. I was intimidated, but I must not show it. ‘My name is Matthew Shardlake, my lady. I am the employer of Master Barak here. He and Mistress Reedbourne sought my protection, after their encounter last night.’
Lady Rochford stepped forward to Tamasin. I feared she might strike her. ‘Who else have you told?’ she hissed. ‘Who else?’ And I saw that she, too, was sorely frightened.
‘No one, my lady,’ Tamasin answered in a small voice.
Lady Rochford looked at me again, uncertainly, then turned to Barak. ‘That’s an odd name you have,’ she said. ‘Are you English?’
‘Through and through, my lady.’
Lady Rochford turned her stare back to Tamasin: she would concentrate her fire on her, I thought, a junior servant in her direct power. ‘And just what did you and this rude lump of a clerk see, or think you saw, last night?’
Tamasin answered clearly, though a tremble underlay her voice. ‘Master Culpeper outside the kitchen door, the Queen in the doorway, and you behind, my lady. The Queen seemed to be taking leave of Master Culpeper.’
Lady Rochford gave a forced, hollow laugh. ‘Stupid children! Master Culpeper had called late to see me, it was I that took leave of him. The Queen heard us and came down to see. Culpeper is always playing jests on me, he is a naughty fellow.’
It was such palpable nonsense that Tamasin did not reply.
‘It was innocent,’ Lady Rochford went on. Her voice rose. ‘All innocent. Anyone who says differently will face the King’s wrath, I warn you.’
I spoke up. ‘If the King heard his Queen was seen in a doorway with the sauciest rake in the court, I think he would be wrathful indeed. However innocent, that meeting must have broken every rule of conduct there is.’
Lady Rochford’s white bosom heaved, her eyes flashing. ‘You are the crookback the King jested over at Fulford. What is this, lawyer – do you seek revenge on your monarch because he mocked your bent back?’
‘No, my lady. I seek only to protect these young people.’
Her eyes narrowed. ‘Lawyers ever speak with coloured doubleness. Is it money you want, to buy your silence and theirs?’
‘No, my lady. Only their safety. And mine.’
She frowned angrily. ‘What do you mean? Why should any of you be unsafe?’
‘People who learn naughty secrets by mistake often are. I work with Sir William Maleverer in connection with certain matters of security here, so I know that well.’
Lady Rochford’s eyes narrowed at the mention of Maleverer’s name. She made herself smile. ‘There is no secret, sir,’ she said in a tone of forced lightness. ‘None. The Queen merely enjoys the company of the friends of her young days. It has been hard for her, this Progress, all the formal receptions, the endless journeys along the miry ways, hard for a young girl. The King would not mind her meeting old friends, but people will ever gossip, so she meets them in secret sometimes. Were that to be known it would be an – embarrassment.’
‘Then all is well,’ I answered smoothly. It was interesting that she had changed her story. ‘We have no interest in gossip, all three of us wish only to return to London as quickly as possible and forget all about this tiresome Progress.’
‘Then you will say nothing?’ Lady Rochford said, a touch of her old imperiousness returning. ‘Say nothing and all will be well, I promise you.’
‘That is our intention,’ Barak replied, and Tamasin nodded.
Lady Rochford looked at our serious faces. ‘Just as well,’ she said, her voice taking on a bullying tone again. ‘After all, one might ask what you young people were doing abroad at past one in the morning. You, Mistress Reedbourne, should have been long abed. Mistress Marlin is too lax with you. I could easily have you both dismissed from the King’s service, remember that.’
‘She will,’ I said. ‘By the way, my lady, does Mistress Marlin know anything of what happened last night?’
Lady Rochford laughed incredulously. ‘That sour prig? Of course not. No one else knows, or will know.’
‘Then as you say, all will be well. Though I should tell you, as a lawyer, that I must take precautions.’
Lady Rochford looked scared again. ‘What do you mean? You said you had told nobody!’
‘We have not. But certain writings may be left, should I die suddenly.’
‘No! You must not do that. If they came to light – you fool, do you think I would harm you? Think! Even if the Queen would permit that, which she would not, do you think I would want to draw attention to any of you?’ She paused, then her voice rose to a shout. ‘I want you quiet, quiet!’ Her body began to tremble slightly.
‘My lady, unless you are quieter yourself the guard will know your business; he
is probably listening at the door as it is.’
She put a hand to her mouth. ‘Yes,’ she said distractedly. ‘Yes.’ She looked at the door then back at me, so frightened I felt sorry for the beldame.
‘Quiet we shall be,’ I said.
Lady Rochford gave me a hard look. ‘It seems I must trust you.’
‘Then we will take our leave.’ I waited to see if she had more to say, but she only nodded, though she looked at me savagely. Barak and I bowed, Tamasin curtsied, and we left the room.
I glanced at the guard outside, who stood poker-faced. But we said no more till we were clear of the pavilions, in the open space between them and the manor. Then I leaned against a cart and wiped my brow with my handkerchief.
‘Thank you, sir,’ Tamasin said. ‘But for you I would have collapsed with fear.’
‘Ay,’ Barak added. ‘That was well done. You kept your composure.’
‘Years of dealing with bad-tempered judges teaches you that. But it wasn’t easy. Jesu, my heart is thumping now.’ I felt a little giddy.
‘Are you all right, sir?’ Tamasin asked. ‘You are very pale.’
‘Give me a moment.’ I sighed and shook my head. ‘These days I feel as though I were adrift in a boat in a storm, wave after wave crashing over me as the wind drives me God knows where.’
‘Hopefully soon we will be on a real boat,’ Barak said. ‘And away from here.’
‘Ay. By God, Lady Rochford is terrified of what we might say. Is there something between the Queen and Culpeper? Or is she afraid for her own position?’
‘Jesu knows,’ Tamasin said. ‘All I know is that the servants say there is bad blood between Culpeper and Francis Dereham.’
‘Yes, Dereham,’ I said thoughtfully. ‘Another old friend of the Queen’s.’
‘Are Culpeper and the Queen and Lady Rochford all mad ?’ Barak asked.
‘Lady Rochford seems – well, not quite normal. And Culpeper seemed a wantwit.’
