“’Tis long days here at Nonsuch, is it not, Mistress Haywood?” he answered. His smile at last appeared, but small, almost bitter. “Much like at Westminster, eh?”
Kate had to laugh wryly. “I hope it will not prove that strange, my lord.”
“Those of us who care for the queen must be ever vigilant for her safety. I fear that will always be true, as enemies will always lurk in the shadows waiting to pounce. Even on the brightest of days.” He nodded toward Bishop de Quadra, who stood in a doorway with his Spanish cohorts.
“The fight at the banquet last night—do you think it was more than hotheaded young men arguing?”
“I know not what that business was about—yet.” Sir Robert’s jaw, covered in a short, dark beard, tightened, and Kate was sure that he knew more than he said. He always did. But what did he want from her? “Master Green has a temper on him, aye, but does Master Constable strike you as any sort of a hothead, Mistress Haywood?”
Kate thought of Master Constable, so pale, so quiet. And of how he was lurking around the queen’s chamber. “Nay, he seems a man who keeps to his own business. But his master . . .”
That jaw flexed again. “Dr. Dee?”
Kate hesitated, remembering how she had been told Dr. Dee had once tutored Sir Robert in his youth. “I have been hearing old gossip, of things that happened during Queen Mary’s time. And here, when Henry was king.”
“I fear we all had to make hard choices during the dark days of Queen Mary, to ensure our survival in hopes of better days to come. And now those days are here.” His tone was quiet, expressionless. “Dr. Dee is a man with a rare gift. He did nothing sinister, I assure you, Mistress Haywood. He has always been loyal to the Tudors, and a faithful Protestant, no matter what one hears of his more . . . obscure studies. Perhaps you have heard he was my tutor for a time, when I was a boy.”
Kate nodded. She had heard such, yet Sir Robert always seemed so robustly part of the wild outdoor world that she had a difficult time envisioning his studies with such a man as Dr. Dee, so preoccupied with the world of the mind and the spirits.
But then, Sir Robert had been at that strange cottage. She couldn’t help teasing him just a bit. “I would wager you were not his most assiduous pupil?”
He gave a startled-sounding laugh, and for an instant his face was so unearthly handsome, like a rakish pirate or a fallen dark angel, that Kate saw why Elizabeth was so eager to keep him near. “My brothers, Ambrose and Guildford, found it hard to pay attention, I confess. We all liked our horses and our arrows above books. But for me, Dr. Dee’s lessons were—different. Astonishing, that the secrets of the world could be found in numbers. His work could do great things for England, now that Elizabeth is queen.”
Was that what was happening in that secret cottage? Great work for England? “And Master Constable? Is he a worthy assistant for such work?”
Sir Robert frowned thoughtfully. “I am sure Master Constable, like so many of us, has hidden depths, Mistress Haywood. He does bear watching, I think. Perhaps, Mistress Haywood, you could keep a watch on him? You are an observant lady, and I have many duties here, too many to keep an eye on everyone. I would have the queen kept safe from everyone around her.”
Kate nearly told him of how she had found Constable lurking about the queen’s deserted bedchamber, but his sister Mary Sidney called out to him at that moment and rushed over to take his arm. Kate knew it was fortuitous; she needed to be cautious with everyone, even a man such as Dudley.
And there was no time to say much, anyway. She could only give him a quick nod of agreement as Mary Sidney, one of the queen’s favorite ladies, a woman quick with a laugh and a song, with her brother’s dark eyes, hurried to his side. “Robert, dearest, there you are! Have you heard? The Duchess of Somerset is come to court. What suppose you this means for the Seymours?” Her voice lowered to a whisper, and Kate discreetly walked ahead so the siblings could talk. Seymours, Dudleys, Boleyns, Howards—old enemies, old allies. Where did they stand now? And what was Constable up to? She agreed with Dudley that the man bore watching.
It was raining again, as it had during the long night Kate had followed Constable to the cottage. A steady, cold, gray dampness swathed the beautiful gardens in a smoky haze and held everyone captive indoors. A canopy stretched over the doorway to give some shelter to those coming or departing, and Mistress Ashley already waited under its shelter, tapping her foot impatiently. Her duties as Mistress of the Robes, and a confidante to the queen since Elizabeth was a child, kept her always busy. She had no time for fussy duchesses.
They did not have long to wait. The gates were dragged open, and a fine coach jolted through, slowed by the mud that mixed with the gravel and made the ground slide away. Painted on its door was the swan, the crest of the Seymour family. It was followed by a string of carts piled with luggage, and another, smaller carriage. Even a short visit was a large undertaking for a duchess, it seemed.
The fine coach had barely lurched to a halt when the front doors opened and two more people slipped outside into the damp day. Lord Hertford and his sister, Lady Jane, Lady Catherine Grey’s best friend, quickly took their places to greet their mother, fidgeting and whispering. Their faces, matching in delicate beauty, looked doubtful, but they quickly masked their frowns with welcoming smiles.
“It does not matter why she is here, sister,” came Lord Hertford’s audible whisper through a gritted-teeth smile. “Only that she departs soon, so behave.”
“Behave, yourself! ’Tis you she comes to inspect,” Jane hissed.
A footman in the Seymour red and gold colors leaped down to open the carriage door, and the duchess climbed down slowly in a flurry of dark skirts and veils. A lady-in-waiting followed to quickly hand her a walking stick. She leaned on it carefully, and it seemed rumors of her ill health were not false, as her heavily lined face was chalk white. She had been through much in her life, the grandest highs and the lowest of disgraceful lows, and it seemed it was not over yet.
She also did not look overjoyed to see her children.
“Well, Ned, Jane,” she said hoarsely, holding out her gloved hand for her son to kiss. “I hope I shall not have a wasted journey, tearing across the muddy countryside in such an ill fashion. I have had no good reports of your life here at court.”
“Mother, I . . . ,” Lord Hertford began, but she waved his words away. She leaned heavily on his arm as he led her inside, Lady Jane fluttering after them. Kat Ashley caught Kate’s eye and raised her brows. Kate laughed, quickly smothering the sound. It did indeed seem they were a wasted greeting party, hovering in the rain for no good purpose. She started to turn away, to follow Mistress Ashley into the palace, when the door to the second coach opened and a familiar figure carefully climbed down.
“Master Hardy! What are you doing at Nonsuch today?” Kate cried, astonished to see the attorney here and not in London, where he now worked at his prosperous practice. Like the duchess, he looked rather pale after the journey, his white hair in disarray under his cap, but he smiled to see her. She hurried toward him to give him aid on the slippery drive, but he waved her back with a pained smile.
“Ah, my dear Mistress Haywood, we did hope to see you here,” he said cheerfully. “You have certainly made even such a long, hasty journey worthwhile.”
We? A tiny reluctant hope took hold inside of her, a hope she dared not even acknowledge, as she turned toward the carriage. That hope was rewarded when Anthony Elias jumped down from behind Master Hardy and gave her a brilliant smile.
They had last met when snow was still on the ground in London, and so many new feelings and hopes had stirred. Yet it seemed only a moment had passed now as she looked into his bright green eyes.
“Kate,” he said. “How well you are looking.”
“And you,” she answered. It was certainly the truth. London life and work seemed to agree with him, making him s
eem brighter, more vital. “I am surprised to see you here at Nonsuch.”
His smile widened. “Not unpleasantly surprised, I do hope.”
“It is only ever pleasant to see you, Anthony.” “Pleasant” sounded such a small, dimly lit word compared to how it actually felt to look up at him now. He made all the strangeness of the last few days seem distant.
They followed Master Hardy and the duchess’s army of servants into the palace, so close they almost touched. So close she could smell the clean scent of him, and it made her smile even more. She felt rather foolish, like Violet and her blushes when Master Green was near. At least he could not see if she did blush, for the hall was dimly lit after the gray glare of the day.
“Master Hardy has been much occupied of late looking after the duchess’s business affairs,” Anthony said as they made their way down the crowded corridor. “He was in need of a clerk on this journey, so I volunteered my services.”
In hopes of seeing her there? Kate dared not even think that. “I am glad to hear Master Hardy’s business prospers.”
“He has more than he can handle of late. Mistress Hardy complains she never sees him. But ’tis much preferable to the way things once were.”
Kate nodded, thinking of those dark days near the end of Queen Mary’s reign, when Master Hardy had been sent to gaol. “And how are you keeping yourself, Anthony? Finishing your studies must consume a great deal of time.”
“So it does. Master Hardy thinks I will be ready to take on my own patrons soon.” They came to a chamber at the far end of the corridor. Master Hardy followed the duchess and her children inside and waved to Anthony to wait outside.
They sat down on a bench near one of the windows, out of the way of the scurry of servants, and Kate could not think what to say. Just sitting there next to him made her feel as if she might burst.
“I have had no business so interesting as that you brought me in January, Kate,” he said. “For once I thought I could be truly useful.”
Kate laughed wryly. “And rescuing drowning maidens from the Thames? Aye, I would say that was most useful, too.”
Anthony laughed, too, a lovely, warm, springtime kind of sound that banished all those old, frozen memories. “I was certainly most happy to oblige with that. But I also meant when I found the information on the Dennis family in those old legal records, and you said it could be used to help the queen. Dusty old law ledgers are good for something, I suppose.”
A thought suddenly occurred to Kate. Anthony could find documents where she could not go. He had discovered letters in law libraries before that helped lead her to a murderer. Perhaps he could do so again. “There might be something you could help me with now, Anthony. If you have time, of course. I cannot interfere with your business.”
His expression sharpened with interest. “You have not found another dead body, have you?”
“Nay, no body at all, thanks be. But that is the strangeness of it.” She quickly told him the old tale of Dr. Macey, Dr. Dee’s old teacher, and his disappearance here at Nonsuch all those years before. Of the mysterious Lord Marchand, who had accused Macey of treason. She didn’t speak of the cottage, though, or Master Constable and his quarrels. Not yet.
Anthony nodded thoughtfully. “I’m not sure where to begin looking, but there is certainly a tale to be found there, I would wager. Horoscopes and talking with spirits have long been an enthusiasm of those who speak about Dr. Dee. When I return to London, I will look into the old records. If this Macey had dealings with royalty, there should be much there if one digs deep enough. Is there some danger to the queen now in this business?”
Kate feared there might be, but it was only a gut feeling and she couldn’t say for sure. As Sir Robert had said, the queen’s enemies were always lurking. Was it spirits, or something more immediate? “I cannot say yet. But this house holds such oddness in its walls. It is so beautiful, yet so . . .”
“Haunting.”
“Aye,” she murmured, remembering Lady Anne’s ghost stories. “Haunted.”
“And you, Kate? How do you fare here at court this summer? Surely you have been busy as well.”
“I do very well. Busy, aye, with much music for dancing and banquets. The queen has been in a merrymaking mood, and someone must play for it.”
He teasingly plucked at her blue silk skirt. “And be well paid for it, I hope. You are looking very fine.”
Kate laughed. “The queen has been kind to me, as she is to all who serve her.” Some more than others, like her Boleyn cousins, to the chagrin of the Seymours and their ilk.
“And has Her Majesty mayhap talked of a match for you yet?”
Surprised, Kate looked up at him to find his face tensely watchful. “Nay, she does not like to speak of marriage at all. Not for herself, or those around her.”
He nodded, and she realized she wanted so much to know what he really thought. She had lived so long with courtly prevarication, and suddenly she was weary with it. Before Elizabeth became queen, Kate had thought she could say almost anything to Anthony. To laugh with him, confide in him.
Then things changed, so suddenly yet so softly she barely noticed at first. Then came that terrible night on the river. Anthony had saved her life that night, when she was kidnapped by a madman and taken onto the raging river in a boat. She had almost drowned, and Anthony’s arms around her made her feel safe again. Now she didn’t know what to think at all. So much had changed between them.
“We hear talk of the royal court all the time in London,” he said at last, with his old teasing smile. “Parties and dancing. Surely there must be many who woo you.”
Kate laughed. “Nary a one, and if they did I would not believe them. Court gentlemen are ever full of pretty words, saying ‘sweeting’ this and ‘darling’ that. Life is all a pageant here, ’tis all. I hope I know better than to wager a farthing on such.”
His smile deepened. “Kate—I hope you know that not all the world is so untrustworthy as that. Some of us do not live in a sonnet.”
Kate studied him carefully, barely daring to breathe. “I— Yes, I do know that.”
“There are things we must talk about, though I know now is not the time,” he said, lighter now. “Can we walk in the garden tomorrow, if the rain will cease?”
She nodded. “I am meant to be composing a masque for Lord Arundel, but I’m sure I could get away for a time.”
He opened his mouth to answer, but whatever he was going to say was lost as Master Hardy opened the duchess’s door and summoned Anthony to his work. And Kate had to get to hers.
“We will speak later,” he said once more, and she smiled. She did want to speak to him and wondered what he wanted to discuss, yet somehow she feared it as well.
She made her way down the stairs back to the great hall, deep in thought. In a quiet doorway, she glimpsed a couple standing close together, a blond head bent toward a dark one. For an instant, she thought it was Hertford and Catherine Grey again, growing ever more foolishly bold, but then she saw it was Violet and her once-disappointed suitor Master Longville.
He did not look so very disappointed now. Violet had tears in her eyes, as she had ever since Master Green had turned away from her at the queen’s banquet. She nodded as he whispered in her ear, and he smiled triumphantly.
So many tangled romances. Kate had no time for such things.
Yet as she spun around to hurry away to find her work, she couldn’t help but remember how it felt when Anthony touched her hand . . .
CHAPTER SEVEN
He was there again.
Kate paused as she hurried down the corridor outside the queen’s apartments, caught by the sight of Master Constable hovering in the doorway. His dark robe and cap looked so stark against the carved paneling of the wall, and he seemed startled to see her passing by.
She remembered Robert Dudley saying Consta
ble needed watching, and her own suspicions that it was true. Dr. Dee trusted Constable enough to work with him, but Kate couldn’t help feeling a cold chill whenever she saw him. His clammy pale skin; the way his watery eyes seemed to shift to take in everything around him; the tremble of his hands. It all seemed most strange for a man purportedly learning how to harness the powers of the stars.
And now he was peering into the crowd of the queen’s rooms again. Was he spying? For whom? What did he hope to discover?
“Mistress Haywood,” someone called behind her. Startled, Kate spun around, her heart pounding. The workbasket she held fell from her hands, tumbling bundles of silk thread onto the inlaid floor.
She saw Mistress Ashley hurrying toward her. The Mistress of the Robes had her own hands full, bright, glossy satins that shimmered in the faint light. Her graying hair was escaping from her pearl-edged cap, and she looked most harried.
“There you are, Mistress Haywood. Did the queen send for you to play? Where is your lute? Oh, never mind,” Mistress Ashley said quickly. “Come along now.”
Kate had not actually been summoned by the queen, not that afternoon. She was merely fetching the workbox as a favor to Violet Roland. But she let herself be borne into the privy chamber along with Mistress Ashley. Perhaps it was a good chance to see what that strange Master Constable was looking for now.
He was caught up in Mistress Ashley’s inexorable wake, too, though Kate noticed he tried to get away, his black sleeves flailing like a crow’s wings. Two loitering ladies-in-waiting were also pushed into the room, and for a moment Kate lost sight of him in the crowd. She saw Master Roland playing cards with Master Longville amid all the tables of games, and ladies chattered behind their feathered fans. Catherine Grey laughed with some of her friends, sneaking glances at the queen.
Constable reappeared, his black cap bobbing over the heads of the shorter ladies around him. He seemed to take refuge near the large marble fireplace, his expression rather stunned.
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