“It seems they are considering it.” Harry stood back and looked down the causeway. “If we’re forced away, who knows who will be waiting for us?”
The matter-of-fact talk between them made the guards more uncomfortable still. One of them called to a man amongst the small crowd of guards gathered to watch the spectacle, standing near Eric, just within the portcullis.
After a brief word, the man turned and disappeared into the darkness. Susanna was glad it was not Lewis who had sent him. Less chance of the Cardinal being summoned, if he were still within.
Eric caught her eye and then turned as well, and disappeared after him.
The guards in the tight crowd muttered amongst themselves, and Susanna had the sense one, at least, was watching her. She looked up, and her heart stumbled in her chest.
Jean looked back at her from amongst the men, his face unreadable.
Had he been trapped within all day? The way he eyed the road beyond told her he had, and he was thinking of a way to use this as a means to escape.
She had wanted to warn Kilburne of the danger of his being here, but she had not, for her own sake, and for Parker’s and everyone who depended on him. But by doing so, she may have risked Fitzroy’s life.
Desperate, needing to think, she nudged the horse around, so it faced back the way they had come, as if she were staring into the growing darkness beyond, looking for signs of danger.
It put her back to Jean, put her body between Fitzroy and any weapon Jean may have to hand.
The movement startled the guards, and one lunged for the reins. Kilburne’s mount flinched, nervous, hungry and ready for its stables.
A few of the guards stepped forward to assist.
“I see someone out there.”
She was not sure if it were Jean who called out, but three men ran down the road a little way. Atop the dancing, panicked horse, Susanna saw one of them turn to look back, caught the flash of a smile from under a helmet.
They disappeared into the dark with the sound of running feet.
Now all Susanna wanted was to turn the horse round again, get herself between Fitzroy and Jean, standing somewhere in the darkness, with an easy escape.
Better yet, she would like the thick, pale walls of the Tower between them.
She could only hope Jean did not want the fuss that would come with a royal assassination. That he was content to take one of the largest diamonds in the world and run.
* * *
Three guards approached him, weapons out, as he came through the Bulwark gate, and Parker threw back his robe to show his chain of office.
They stopped, and touched their hats, and then one of the guards continued past him.
“I’ll check Petty Wales,” he called.
The way he pronounced it, as it most likely was originally pronounced—Petit Wales—made Parker whip his head around to follow the man’s progress out the Bulwark gate.
Jean.
The assassin didn’t turn around and the night swallowed him from sight.
Parker knew, even if he raced to follow the Frenchman, he would be nowhere to be found. He had most likely been looking for a chance to escape the Tower all day, and he would not waste it.
He urged his mount forward, trailing Jules’s mare behind him. He’d been unwilling to abandon the horse in the alleyway.
Ahead, he saw a tight knot of people at the Middle Tower gate. Guards on one side, and could that be-
“Susanna!” He urged the horse faster.
“Parker.” She fought Kilburne’s horse around to face him, and her smile, her delight at the sight of him, made it difficult for him to breathe. Fitzroy sat before her, his face pale against the dark wool of her cloak.
When he reached her, even though her horse danced and shied, he hooked an arm around her and for a sweet moment felt the soft press of her body as she leaned against him, felt the warmth and life of her.
With an angry snort, Kilburne’s horse wrenched them apart.
He caught a glimpse of Harry, standing to the side. Something in the way he stood, the set of his face, chilled Parker.
Their trip had not been easy.
“What is this? What is the delay?” Parker frowned down at the guards.
“They will not let us in.” Fitzroy spoke, his words clear and accusing.
“It is near curfew. And the Constable has instructed me to tell you that your woman is no longer to be confined here, by order of the King.” The guard’s words oozed spite.
Susanna gasped, staring at the guard who had spoken. “You could have told me at the start, Lewis. You accused me of being a traitor, even though you knew already the King had dismissed the charges.” She turned Kilburne’s mount around again. “Let us be off. We will find no welcome or safety here.”
Parker caught a glimpse of someone running across the drawbridge to them, and Eric darted into the light thrown by the torches.
He stopped when he saw Parker, and smiled almost as widely as Susanna had when she’d seen him. “Sir.” The word left him like a relieved sigh.
“Did they fetch the Constable?” Harry asked.
Eric shook his head. “He is dining with the Cardinal, and would not be disturbed.”
“Wolsey is here?” Parker thought the Cardinal would be long gone. But his presence changed things. He would not stay in the Tower with Wolsey lurking. The Cardinal had too much power here.
“We’re off?” Susanna asked, her face tense with the effort of holding back Kilburne’s horse.
Parker gave a nod. “You and Eric take the extra horse,” he said to Harry, jerking his head back at Jules’s mount.
“Where will we go?” Fitzroy watched him with wide eyes, but Parker did not answer.
He would not give any hint of their direction to the guards standing around them. It was not a question of whether one of them may be in Wolsey’s pay, only how many.
While he waited for Harry to swing up into the saddle and haul Eric up before him, he took Fitzroy from Susanna, leaning across to lift the boy up and tuck him under his cloak.
“Let’s go.” He wheeled about, and took the causeway at a canter, wanting them to have a good speed by the time they exited by the Bulwark gate, in case Jean or Jules or some other threat waited for them there.
Behind them, he could hear the pounding of feet, the shout of voices, and he turned to look. Saw Wolsey and the Constable standing by the Middle Tower, fighting for breath, staring after them as they took the King’s only son into the darkness.
Chapter Thirty-six
The hardest point of all is, what to do with England; a treaty of peace is to be set on foot, and, if their alliance is not to be depended on, yet it is to be made as firm as possible, and they are to be called friends, but suspected as enemies
Utopia by Thomas More (translated by H. Morley)
Parker held his arms out to Susanna, catching her as she dismounted. She slid down his chest, breathing in his scent of horse and leather, and came to rest in his arms. She did not want to move.
They stood in the courtyard at Bridewell Palace, though, and she moved back at last.
Harry and Eric had dismounted as well, and were grabbing the horses by their bridles and leading them to the stables.
Fitzroy stood, uncertain and lost in the massive space. “Where do we go now, sir?”
“Within. I need guards around us, until I can find your father.” Parker stepped close to him, and knelt on one knee. “We will make sure you are safe, my lord.”
The courtyard was almost completely empty at this late hour, but somewhere outside the palace walls Susanna could hear the thunder of hooves. Not just one or two horses, but a cavalcade.
Parker rose, sword drawn, and Harry and Eric came running out of the stables, followed by some of the stablehands.
She braced as the noise became a roar of iron-clad hooves on cobbles, and what looked like the King’s hunt came bursting into the yard.
The King was in the lead, his face
set white, his eyes dark pools of fear and fatigue.
“Your Majesty.” Parker bowed in relief, and Susanna saw he had blocked Fitzroy completely with his body. The boy stood behind him, unnoticed.
“Parker. I went from my hunt to Greenwich for the night, and Master Croke was there. He told me—” Henry swallowed convulsively. “I have sent a guard to the Tower. Croke told me you were taking Fitzroy there.”
“They wouldn’t let us in there, Father.” Fitzroy stepped from behind Parker. “But I am safe.”
“Wouldn’t let you in?” Henry leapt from his horse and scooped the boy in his arms. “You are well?”
“Aye. Master Parker and his lady and pages risked their lives for me today. Many times over.”
Henry looked over the boy’s head, and caught Susanna’s eye. She hastily lowered her gaze.
“I would like to hear the story.” He swung Fitzroy up in his arms and moved towards the doors. “Parker, bring your lady and your pages. I would know who threatens my son.”
Parker sheathed his sword again, and held his arm to Susanna and she took it, glancing back to make sure Harry and Eric followed.
The rest of the King’s party began to dismount, and the courtyard echoed with noise behind them. It was a relief to step into the quiet hall of the palace.
“My chambers, just us.” Henry led the way, his servants scurrying ahead to light the sconces and open doors.
At last they were in Henry’s private quarters, and he sank into a chair near the fire in his study, and drew Fitzroy onto his lap.
“What is this, Parker?” Henry shook his head. “This comes from nowhere.”
Parker rubbed his chin and nodded in acknowledgement. “I was given the information this afternoon, and went straight to Durham House. Just in time, too. The attempt was made no more than a half hour after I arrived.”
“Croke told me. He told me you acted with great courage and that one of the Tower guards was severely injured.”
“Captain Kilburne. He was there to escort my lady to her appointment, to paint his lordship. He was struck by a bolt while blocking Master Fitzroy with his body.”
“Croke also told me you carried my boy yourself, mistress, covering his body with your own as you ran.” Henry was watching her, his eyes unreadable. Given their last conversation, the way he had deliberately hurt her, threatened her, she could not know what he was thinking now. She merely bowed her head and murmured assent.
“She held me on the horse, she drew a knife to protect us.” Fitzroy’s words were muffled, exhaustion seeping into his voice. “And Master Parker.” The eyes he lifted to Parker were full of hero-worship. “He drew them off, using himself as bait, and then he came for us at the Tower, like a dark knight from a story.”
“What is this about denying you entrance there?” Henry’s voice shook a little, and Susanna realized it was not relief at having his boy, but rage.
“The Cardinal had no proof of Susanna’s treason by nightfall, and Susanna was no longer a prisoner in the Tower. They refused her entry and did not believe her when she said they were pursued by assassins and that she had Master Fitzroy with her.” Parker crossed his arms over his chest.
“Did they not call for Wolsey? I am told he is still at the Tower.”
“He was dining with the Constable and would not be disturbed.” Eric spoke, daring and cheeky in the circumstances.
“Who was behind this, Parker?” Henry frowned at Eric as he spoke, and if trying to remember why he was there.
Susanna wondered how much Parker would say. How much would be dangerous to Lucas. “Some foreign spies, sir. Turned loose by their master and without funds. They were approached by someone at this court. Took the job for want of the money.”
“Who at court?” Henry was very still.
Parker shook his head. “I do not know. And the spies are all dead, or disappeared now. I deemed Fitzroy’s safety more important than running them down.”
“Aye.” Henry rubbed a hand through Fitzroy’s hair. “You chose wisely.” He set Fitzroy off his lap and stood. “You are all commended for your help. Parker, will you take Fitzroy to a bedchamber, and make sure he has an appropriate guard? Master Croke was only just behind me, and should be arriving soon.”
Parker nodded, and stood back for Susanna to leave the room before him.
Henry shook his head. “I would speak with Mistress Horenbout alone.”
Parker bowed and caught her eye. She shared a look with him, and he took Fitzroy by the hand, led him out followed by Eric and Harry.
Susanna waited, head bowed, until the door swung shut behind them.
“You have me at a disadvantage, mistress.” The King sat again beside the fire. “I recall our last meeting was not amicable. And yet, I am now deeply in your debt.”
She said nothing.
“What have you to say?”
“You owe me nothing for helping to save Fitzroy. As it is, I bought the information on the plans for his assassination with something of yours. And what I risked of my life for him, I did freely, for him alone. Not to create a debt of obligation from you.” Her voice shook as she spoke. She did not know when she’d decided to tell Henry about the Mirror. But now was the time, if there ever was to be a time. Now, while the flush of happiness at his son’s safety was strongest.
“It was you who discovered the plan to kill Fitzroy?”
“Aye.” She drew out the letter Jean had given her and past it to him. “The French assassin who tried to steal the Mirror of Naples in March tracked me down to the Tower. Offered what he knew of the plan in exchange for the whereabouts of the Mirror.”
“And you told him.” Henry’s voice was flat as he read the short missive.
“I thought you would gladly exchange the Mirror for information that could help to save your son, Your Majesty.” She had never been so daring.
There was a startled silence. “You are right. Fitzroy is my male heir. He is beyond the price of diamonds.”
“If it would make it easier for you to accept, the Frenchman told me he does not plan to return the Mirror to King Francis. He plans to have it cut down and sold, for his personal purse.”
She watched Henry from the corner of her eye, saw him absently drum his fingers on the arm of his chair. “That does make it easier. I need not inform anyone of its disappearance. The French will not officially have it back. There is no loss of face.”
She stood quietly, waiting for her dismissal, her hands curled into fists. She could feel the gem of the King’s ring pressing into her palm.
Henry stood. “Take your leave, knowing I will not speak against your betrothal again. And there will be no more slurs against your loyalty. From Wolsey or anyone else.”
She dipped in curtsy and made to go.
“One last thing.”
She turned with her hand on the door.
“I bade the Queen show me the likeness you made of my daughter. Make sure you finish that painting of Fitzroy in time for his acceptance into the Order of the Garter. And make sure it is just as good.”
She nodded. Opened the door.
“No.”
She paused again.
“Make sure it is better.”
Chapter Thirty-seven
a prince ought to take more care of his people’s happiness than of his own, as a shepherd is to take more care of his flock than of himself
Utopia by Thomas More (translated by H. Morley)
“Norfolk.” Parker closed the door of Fitzroy’s private chambers and stepped into the passage, his body blocking the way. He should not be surprised that Norfolk had the nerve to come here. To see for himself whether his plan to kill Fitzroy had come to nothing.
“I hear of great escapades, Parker. Of rides through the streets of London, with the King’s son beneath your cloak.”
“And I hear of French spies accepting a job to kill the King’s son from a nobleman of this court, and have someone who saw one of those spies visit a parti
cular nobleman’s house during the negotiations.”
Norfolk drew back, his head jerking as if Parker had slapped him with his glove. “And what have you done with what you have heard?”
“I have only my informant’s word on where the spy went. But I will try to find proof of that nobleman’s identity, and then, of course, I will take all I know to the King.”
“Of course.” Norfolk took a step back. “Of course you will.” His lips formed a thin, bitter line. “You know, it would serve me well to have you killed Parker. You are nothing but a thorn in my side.”
“I might say the same.” Parker’s gaze flicked over Norfolk’s shoulder, saw the two guards who had helped him at Durham House coming down the corridor.
He accepted their salute, and felt a lift of tension. These two, at least, could be trusted. “No one comes in without Master Croke’s approval. And you escort his lordship wherever he may go, within the palace or without.”
They nodded their agreement and took up place, hard-eyed, before the door.
“You might take this advice,” Parker said as he and Norfolk walked away. “If any accident should befall Fitzroy, I will go to the King with your name, whether I have conclusive proof, or not.”
“He would not believe it.” Norfolk barked out a laugh, but Parker could smell the stink of his fear, sharp and sour.
Parker stepped away from him, turned back to the King’s rooms to find Susanna. “Perhaps he won’t.” He shrugged. “It’s a chance I’ll take to bring you down.”
As he walked away, the spot between his shoulders twitched. If Norfolk could, his dagger would be buried there. To the hilt.
He only regretted there was almost no hope of connecting Norfolk to the assassination attempt. The word of a street boy against the Duke of Norfolk would never stand. And he was sure none of the spies had been foolish enough to remain in London. They were long gone now.
And once again, Norfolk weaselled himself free.
* * *
Susanna closed the door behind her and stared at it.
“King got your tongue?”
She choked back a scream and spun round. Saw Will Somers leaning against the passage wall. She lifted a hand to her heart and took a deep breath. “That was not kind.”
In Defense of the Queen Page 20
