HOLY POISON: Boxed Set: The Complete Series 1-6

by Margaret Brazear

  As his wife’s figure filled out he satisfied himself with hugs and kisses when he really wanted to possess her as he always had. She glowed with the joy of prospective motherhood, but it was such a dangerous time and he was so afraid of losing her.

  At last the day came when her maid emerged from her chamber to inform him that Her Ladyship had begun her labour pains.

  He listened outside the door for that entire morning, his mother with him and she held his hand just as she had when he was a little boy, when he fell from a tree and tore his knees.

  “Try not to worry so much, Adrian,” she soothed. “I had two healthy sons without ill effect. Women have babies all the time, otherwise the species would not have survived.”

  He nodded, drew a deep breath in an effort to calm himself, but he was too distracted, he forgot who he was speaking to.

  “You are right,” he said. “If Frances can give birth safely in that godforsaken wild land…”

  He stopped talking abruptly, wishing he could catch back the words. He had never told his mother he knew the whereabouts of his brother or that he regularly exchanged letters with him. It took months for a letter to get from one to the other, so he had not heard often, but he knew how they fared just the same, knew about their farm and their two children. His mother did not.

  “Frances?” She questioned. “You know what she and your brother are doing? You know where they are?”

  Her voice had risen angrily as she spoke but it was too late now to pretend ignorance.

  “Yes, Mother,” he said. “I know.”

  Her mouth turned down in disapproval.

  “Are you telling me that Mark had the audacity to write to you? After what he did to you? Did he beg your forgiveness? Did you give it?”

  It was time to confess, to own up to the deception as he had no way of taking back the words. He just wished it was not now; all he wanted right now was to worry about his wife.

  “Mother, I have always known where they are,” he admitted. “Who do you think gave them the money with which to start a life together?”

  “You?” He nodded, watched her eyes open wide in shock. “But he betrayed you! He seduced your betrothed and shamed your father to his grave!”

  “Please Mother,” he said. “Do we have to talk about this now?”

  She stared at him in silence for a few moments then went to listen at the door to Elizabeth’s chamber. She opened the door a little and looked inside.

  “She is perfectly well, Adrian,” she told him. “Please explain to me how you can be so forgiving.”

  He gave her a look of resignation.

  “He came to me just a few days before the date set for the wedding. He told me they had fallen in love and asked me to release her. What else could I do?”

  “You could have insisted on her keeping her word, that is what.”

  “And spent the rest of my life with a woman who resented me?” He shook his head. “Besides, I thank him for telling me. Supposing the wedding had gone ahead; I would never have met Elizabeth, I would never have known the love I share with her.”

  He felt his mother’s eyes on his face, almost as though she were trying to bore through to his brain. When she spoke, her tone was one of fury.

  “All the time I was searching for them, sending out servants to seek them out, comforting you in your grief and shame…all the time you knew where they were? How could you?”

  “It was what we agreed, Mother. It is late in the day to talk of this now. Please.”

  A loud scream from inside the chamber interrupted their argument. It was followed by the lusty sound of a newborn’s cry; Elizabeth had given birth to a healthy daughter.

  ***

  They named their daughter Elise, just because they liked the name. The nobility mostly named their children for parents or grandparents, or other ancestors, but Adrian and Elizabeth wanted to start a new trend. Why should they have old fashioned names for their babies when there were better names to be had?

  “Are you disappointed?” Elizabeth asked him after the birth.

  “Disappointed? About what?”

  “About not having a son. I know you wanted a son.”

  He sat beside her on the bed, his back and head resting against the headboard, his arm around her and now he pulled her closer and kissed her.

  “You are well, the child is well,” he said. “They are the only things that matter. There is just one thing.”

  “What is that?”

  “How soon can we start on that son?”

  ***

  As soon as Elizabeth recovered from the birth, they removed the whole household from the terrors of London. Adrian wished he had done it sooner, before the fanatic began to terrorise her way throughout the Protestant world. He had not realised the affect it would have on his wife.

  At Kennington House on the edge of Surrey, the air was fresh and silent and London was in another world. They could almost hope to stay unmolested, that nobody in London at the court of Queen Mary would remember their existence. Perhaps they could survive this reign here and hope for it to be a short one.

  But it was not to be.

  Elise had just begun to sit up unaided when the visitor arrived who would change their contented life. He was tall and dark and he arrived on a huge, black stallion whose coat shone and who held himself with the same superior dignity as his rider.

  Adrian knew him at once. He had seen him before, only once, riding beside the Queen’s carriage at her coronation, and he had hoped never to see him again.

  He had been playing with his daughter in the nursery when he saw him arrive from the window and now he handed the child back to her nurse, squeezed his wife’s hand and went downstairs to meet his visitor. There could be only one reason for a personal visit from the Queen’s closest advisor and he would rather Elizabeth knew nothing about that reason until she had to.

  He had been shown into the great hall and was gazing up at the portrait of Elizabeth which hung above the fireplace, his arms folded, his bearing confident. He wore a jacket of burgundy velvet, quilted with gold thread, and a shirt of very expensive white silk.

  He turned at Adrian’s approach and gave a small bow.

  “Lord Kennington,” he said and strode forward with his hand held out. “I am the Earl of Summerville.”

  “I know who you are, My Lord,” Adrian replied, taking his hand. “Although I am puzzled to find you in my house.”

  Lord Summerville gave a little enigmatic smile as he leaned back against the table and looked at Adrian silently for a moment, as though trying to gather the right words.

  “I come on the orders of the Queen,” he said.

  Adrian’s heart skipped a beat. What rumours had reached the Queen’s ears about him and his family? What more could he do to pretend allegiance? His first thought was for Elizabeth and his daughter; if they were in danger he would swear anything to save them.

  “What does the Queen want with me, My Lord?” He demanded after a few moments.

  Lord Summerville sighed heavily, his demeanour losing some of its confidence.

  “She wants to know why you have no position at court. She is anxious that all her noblemen support her, help her as she strives to restore England to the true faith.”

  Adrian shivered. He had been dreading this day since the damned woman took the throne; he had hoped she had forgotten he ever existed.

  “I have much to keep me busy here, My Lord,” he answered at last.

  “So I hear,” Lord Summerville answered. “A new baby daughter, no less.”

  Adrian raised an eyebrow. He was becoming uneasy as well as angry, feeling that his family were in danger. He would do anything to keep them safe, even become a papist, if that is what it took.

  “What do you want with me, My Lord? I have little time to give to a position at court. I only wish to stay quietly with my family.”

  “As do I, My Lord,” his visitor replied with a sigh. “I, too have a baby daughter
I have seen little of and a beautiful wife. In fact she not unlike your own wife in that regard. I see she, too, is very beautiful. We are both fortunate men indeed.”

  He gestured toward the portrait as he spoke. Had his visitor been anyone else, Adrian would have found nothing but friendliness in his words, but as it was he could not help but search for the threat in his speech, sure there must be one. But his tone was amiable. At last Lord Summerville sighed heavily once more and spoke again.

  “Forgive me, My Lord,” he said. “I do not wish to alarm you and I know your wife was to be part of the Sinclair family, who were put to death early in the reign. That is why Her Majesty is so insistent on your taking a position in her court; she does not trust you.”

  Adrian’s heart jumped painfully and he wished he was on the other side of the world with his brother.

  “She has said so?” He asked fearfully.

  “No, but it is what she is thinking. Believe me, I have been with her since the beginning and I knew her when her father ruled. I know how her mind works.”

  “What does she want me to do?” He asked.

  “What she wants you to do and what you are actually going to do are two very different things.”

  “My Lord?”

  “Please, call me Richard. I hate titles; they are so formal and I do want us to be friends. May I call you Adrian?” He nodded. “You no doubt think this is some sort of trap and I can say nothing to dissuade you. I would think the same in your place. Mary wants you actively helping to expose heretics.”

  Adrian caught his breath, wanting desperately to correct him, to tell him they were Protestants, not heretics. But he knew of this man’s reputation, he knew how close he was to the Queen.

  “It is difficult for me, My Lord…Richard. I have tried to be a good catholic since this reign began, I have tried to follow the Queen’s wishes, but what you ask goes far beyond that. Why can we not be left alone to live in peace with our consciences?”

  “I share your sentiments, Sir,” Richard replied.

  “My wife lost the family into which she was to marry. It was a tremendous trauma for her.” Adrian paused and thought frantically for a way out. “She witnessed their arrest.”

  “I too have lost people close to me. My wife’s sister went to the stake; it turned my wife against me.”

  “And if I follow your wishes, My Lord, it will turn my wife against me.”

  “Not my wishes, Adrian.”

  “I wish you would tell Her Majesty my estate needs me here. There is no one else.”

  Richard stood up straight, his expression grave as he gathered his gloves from where he had placed them, on the table beside him.

  “Would that I could. Adrian,” he said. “I do not ask this of you lightly, but Mary will not let it go. If it were as easy as simply declining her offer, life would be easier for me too.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  “No matter. Suffice it to say you can no longer get away with paying lip service to the faith; you must do something actively to prove your support or I will not be able to help you.”

  “Why would you want to help me?”

  “I have my reasons. Please, give my words careful thought. I shall return tomorrow when we can discuss it further.” He held out his hand once more and took Adrian’s in a firm clasp. “Until tomorrow.”

  Adrian watched him go from the window and noticed a carriage, a huge black carriage with the Summerville crest on its door. That had not been there before and neither had its passenger who now leaned from the window and smiled at His Lordship as he spoke to her. Adrian could not hear their words, but he was curious about the woman.

  He made his way outside.

  “Forgive me, My Lord,” he said. “Your visit took me quite by surprise and I had no idea you had brought this lovely lady. I neglected to offer you refreshment.”

  “No matter,” he replied. “My wife and I need to be back in London in an hour. The Queen is expecting us.”

  Lord Summerville climbed onto his beautiful horse and rode slowly away, the carriage following and Adrian watched with a puzzled frown until he felt Elizabeth’s hand on his arm.

  “What was he doing here?” She demanded and he could hear the tremor in her voice.

  Apparently, he was not alone in recognising Lord Summerville; she too knew who he was and his visit had terrified her.

  “He had a proposition for me,” Adrian replied. “But I am unsure about the spirit in which it was made.”

  ***

  Adrian handed a goblet of mead to Lord Summerville as he sat before the window in the small sitting room. He was dressed as splendidly as the day before, his manner was as confident and as friendly. Adrian could feel no threat from this man, nothing to make him suspect his family would be in danger from him if he refused the position he was being offered. But he had assured him that was the case, that it was not merely an offer, a request, but a command from the papist Queen.

  He watched his arrival from the upstairs nursery window and saw that he was not followed by the carriage, that this time he had come alone. Adrian was glad of that. His guest had intimated that the woman who had accompanied him yesterday was his wife, but Adrian knew better and his curiosity was aroused.

  “You have not brought your beautiful companion today,” he remarked.

  “No. She has duties at court; she is lady in waiting to Her Majesty.”

  Adrian had struggled all night with his conscience; the position being offered involved betraying his own people, the people his wife had lost and their own beliefs. How could he be asked to do that, and had he found a way out?

  “The lady who was with you yesterday,” he began. “She is very beautiful.”

  “She is, thank you.”

  Adrian sipped his drink, his eyes meeting those of his guest and a little grin played about his mouth as he waited for him to elaborate. He did not.

  “Who is she?” He asked finally.

  Richard smiled.

  “She is my wife, as I believe I told you.”

  “Really?”

  Richard smiled hesitantly.

  “I know I used to have something of a reputation with the ladies, but all that changed when I married. You, too have a beautiful wife; you should understand.”

  “Oh, I do, My Lord, I do,” Adrian replied. “But there lies my dilemma. I remember your wife; I saw her at the coronation procession, I spoke to her there and during the banquet. She was riding, unlike most of the other ladies who rode in carriages. Unless you have been widowed since then and remarried, a fact I am sure I would have heard about, that lady you brought here yesterday…she is not your wife.”

  Richard concentrated his gaze on his mead as he swirled the liquid around the goblet and cursed himself for a fool. He had grown so used to presenting Rachel as Lady Summerville, had become accustomed to everyone’s acceptance of her as his wife, it had never occurred to him that someone who had no position at court and who he had never met before would know the truth.

  It was pointless to deny it and such a denial would only have his host making enquiries to put them all in danger. After a few minutes his eyes met those of Adrian.

  “You are far more observant, My Lord, than most others at court.”

  “Possibly because I did not share their enthusiasm for the new reign,” Adrian answered cynically, then wondered if he had gone too far. This man was, after all, Mary’s close advisor.

  “What price your silence?” Richard said.

  “Drop this idea of a position for me at court.”

  “Would that I could,” Richard replied. “But I do not come here on my own behalf. You must take the position, what you do with it is up to you. Show your face at the palace once or twice a week, pay lip service to the cause, use your inside knowledge however you wish.”

  “That would be treason.”

  Richard raised an eyebrow.

  “I offer you a position on my staff. If you refuse, the next visit you re
ceive will be from Bishop Bonner and you do not want your wife to meet him. Trust me; you can do more for your cause from the inside.”

  Adrian sat down and stared at his visitor for a long time, a frown on his brow and puzzlement in his mind. He did not trust him, could not trust him, and he could find no reason why he should have exposed his own secrets to Adrian.

  “The woman,” he asked again. “She is your mistress?”

  Richard nodded.

  “She is. But nobody knows that. As far as anyone at court is concerned, she is Lady Summerville.”

  “You would present your mistress to the Queen as your wife? If she found out, you would be charged with treason.”

  “I know.”

  “Does the woman mean that much to you? And what of your real wife? Where is she?”

  “We are estranged. That is all I am prepared to say. Now you know my darkest secret, you have to trust me.”

  “Very well, although I doubt this is your darkest secret. You seem to be a man of many secrets, all of them dark. But I cannot condemn other Protestants; my wife would never forgive me. I would never forgive myself.”

  “As I said, you may do with the position whatever you wish. Once you have a position at court, once you have met the Queen and given her your devotion, she will look no closer at your activities. She is an arrogant woman who believes when someone swears allegiance to her, they dare not do otherwise.”

  “You are a Catholic, My Lord,” Adrian replied. “You were Mary’s staunchest supporter, her close friend. Your name strikes terror into the hearts of Protestants everywhere, yet you are telling me you have ulterior motives for what you do. I thought you were more eager than anyone to return England to the Church of Rome.”

  “I was,” Richard replied. “But I wanted to do it peacefully; I wanted to reason with the Protestants and persuade them to the true faith, not torture and burn them, not force them to it. What good is that? God knows what is in their hearts. I believed Mary would do that, she promised to do that when she took the throne.” His words held so much bitterness it was almost tangible; they held a hatred for the Queen he once loved which shocked Adrian into silence. When he went on, his tone was venomous. “Instead she has poisoned the hearts of even the faithful.”