The Betrayal

by Mary Hooper

  ‘Here it is!’ said Sonny.

  I almost began crying again on seeing it, for it was very squalid. Sonny, anxious that I should stay there, scraped up all the straw he could muster into a corner to make a mattress, and spread out the piece of blanket over this.

  ‘I’ll come back in the morning.’

  ‘Make sure you’re not seen.’

  ‘Never fear. I’m an old hand at this, Missus. I’ll come back with some food and a candle and a bit o’ kindling to make you a fire. An’ I’ll get some rags to bind up your foot.’

  I looked down at my ankle, which I could hardly see but which I could feel had already begun puffing up. ‘Will you ask Mistress Midge if she has any sage and comfrey to help take down the swelling?’

  He nodded. ‘You’ll be all right here, won’t you?’

  I nodded, trying to keep my tears under control.

  ‘An’ you won’t run off?’

  I gave a miserable snort of derision. ‘And tomorrow we’ll see what else we can do.’

  I nodded and told him to go, for I felt I could no longer hold my emotions in check and I didn’t want to distress him further. He went off and though I heard his footsteps retreating, I knew I was not alone, for the scuffling in the far corner told me there were rats. There were always rats.

  I was in pain from my ankle now, and was cold and wet. I put the damp and stinking blanket around my shoulders in an effort to warm myself (which it did not) and knew that I had never felt more alone, or more wretched, in my life. Where was Tomas? Had Juliette managed to convince him that I was a thief? Had he, too, forsaken me?

  Thinking this, I began to weep – and then stopped as I came to a sudden realisation. Of course! The torn red blanket I had around me was actually the ‘jacket’ that the figure had been wearing in Dr Dee’s show-stone. And the figure I’d seen – bowed, miserable and completely alone – had been me …

  Chapter Seventeen

  I didn’t sleep, and it wasn’t long before I heard the watch calling five o’clock and, soon after this, cocks a-crowing, the milkmaids beginning their rounds of the streets, crying, ‘Milk below, Mistress!’, and the other noises of London waking. I would have dearly loved a pitcher of milk, for I thought it might restore me. I had only a few coins, however, and would need these, for in the time I’d been sitting around, shivering and miserable, I’d made a plan.

  It gradually grew lighter, enabling me to see better the shack I found myself in, which was such a filthy mess of dead insects, puddles of dirt and turkey droppings that had I been able to see it clearly before, I’d never have suffered to stay there. I sat huddled in a corner on my grimy straw, not daring to move. Not only was I frightened of being seen, but I was also worried that, if I found another, cleaner hiding place, Sonny wouldn’t know where to find me.

  He came about nine o’clock with a shawl sent by Mistress Midge, an ointment made from sage and comfrey, a length of clean rag to use for a bandage and some more bread and cheese. Feeling pleased almost to the point of tears to see him, I flung my arms around him and kissed him heartily on both cheeks.

  Alarmed, he quickly moved out of my embrace. ‘Mistress Midge says you must apply the paste, then wet the bandage and tie it around your ankle as tightly as you can bear it,’ he told me.

  ‘I will,’ I nodded. ‘And is all quiet in Green Lane?’

  ‘Apart from the guard outside,’ he said. ‘An’ the ones who arrived at first light to search the house.’

  ‘They did?’ I gasped.

  He nodded. ‘Marched in two-be-two and went all over the house like they was looking for a priest in a whorehouse.’ I looked at him, surprised at his language, and he added, shamefaced, ‘Mistress Midge said that.’

  ‘But of course they didn’t find anything.’

  He shook his head. ‘They looked in that coffer, though. They would have discovered you for sure.’

  ‘Then maybe I should be happy to have spent the night in this squalor,’ I said. I picked up the ointment, unscrewed the lid and stirred it with my finger. ‘But I have a mission for you.’

  ‘What’s that?’ he asked suspiciously, all the time eyeing my bread and cheese.

  ‘While I apply this I want you to go to the nearest stationer and buy a quill, a bottle of ink and a piece of parchment.’

  His voice took on a resigned tone. ‘You’re going to write a letter, ain’t you? And I suppose once you’ve done that, then I’ll have to take it somewhere.’

  I nodded. ‘Yes indeed. To Whitehall.’

  ‘Then may the saints preserve me,’ he said, sounding so droll it made me smile.

  By the time he’d returned from the shop I’d wrapped up my ankle (which already felt better for being treated so kindly) and laid the red blanket on the floor in order to make a smooth area for the parchment. Kneeling down, with Sonny sitting beside me watching carefully as I formed the letters, I wrote the following:

  For the eyes of Tomas, the Queen’s Fool.

  I find myself in difficult circumstances. If you value the friendship which we have shared, please do not believe what you may have heard.

  The boy who bears this note will bring you to me, and I will explain all.

  Yours always in deep loyalty to Her Grace the Queen.

  Lucy.

  I thought to send this to him with the groat I wore, as I’d done once before when I’d been in trouble, but when I reached about my neck to feel for the string on which it hung, I found to my horror that it wasn’t there. Sonny and I searched all over the floor of the hovel, and I made him look outside in the alleyway, too, but it was not to be found. I was very cast down by this, for I’d had this token of the queen’s image for many years.

  I read through my written words again, reading them out to Sonny and worrying about whether I’d phrased things strongly enough. Had Juliette already spoken to Tomas and blackened my name? Would he really believe that I’d got into the palace to steal a handful of pretty baubles? He knew, surely, that such gee-gaws meant nothing to me. Once the ink was properly dry I folded the parchment carefully, regretting that I had no seal to make it secure.

  ‘You must take this to the queen’s fool,’ I said to Sonny. ‘And – this is most important – be sure that you give it into his own hands. He and he alone must receive it, even if you have to wait there overnight.’

  He nodded earnestly. ‘I shall do my best, Missus. But how am I to get into the palace in the first place?’

  This, too, I’d already thought about in the dead of the night. ‘You must say that you are sent by Mr James with a message from the Queen’s Players. That will be good enough, for everyone at the palace knows that Tomas arranges Her Grace’s entertainments.’

  ‘Suppose I get caught?’

  ‘There is nothing they can catch you for,’ I said. ‘You are merely delivering a letter.’

  ‘Suppose they read it and see that it’s not from Mr James?’

  ‘The guards can’t read! And even if they could, they wouldn’t dare read a letter addressed to the queen’s own man!’ I thought for a moment, then added, ‘If you get into any difficulties, ask for Barbara, the laundress. Tell her you’re my little brother, and she’ll help.’ Poor Barbara, I thought. When she’d flirted with Luke the actor, she little could have realised what she was getting herself into.

  Sonny went off, somewhat reluctantly, and I settled myself to wait, trying to occupy the smallest possible space on the fetid floor. It was bound to be a long wait, I knew that, for Tomas might have gone elsewhere – to another of the royal palaces, perhaps on the queen’s business. In the meantime I had nothing to do besides count the number of spiders on a spar of wood, ponder on the formation of cobwebs and worry about the trouble I was in.

  Although cold and uncomfortable, I fell asleep twice, but was woken once by the street criers, and once by a snorting, grunting pig that came into the hovel looking for food. I ate the bread and cheese, more to keep myself occupied than from feeling any great hunger,
and made a vulgar cleansing of my face by – oh, how glad I was that none of the elegant ladies at the palace could see me – spitting on a portion of shirt tail and rubbing it over my face. I then tidied my hair back, hoping that I did not look too far off neat and respectable, and entered a state of mind where just four words ran through my head: will Tomas help me?

  First I thought yes, and then no. Firstly I believed that because of all we’d shared, he would never let me down, then I thought he might; the evidence against me being too compelling. Forgetting I’d lost it, I often felt for my necklet. For long years it had been my lucky charm; was losing it a sign that things were not going to go well for me?

  Hours went by and it was growing dark again when I at last heard footsteps and Sonny appeared, followed – how my heart leapt! – by Tomas. He was wearing a black velvet suit with a cloak lined in scarlet cloth, and looked extremely out of place in his surroundings.

  ‘I got him!’ Sonny said unnecessarily, grinning all over his face.

  I struggled to get to my feet, imagining what a sight I must present to someone who’d come from the elegance and refinement of the palace. Tomas put out a hand to help me up, looking at me with such a mixture of expressions: exasperation, vexation, impatience and – yes, I believe perhaps a little tenderness, such as one might show to a pet that has done wrong.

  ‘Mistress Lucy,’ he said, giving a mock bow. ‘Delighted to attend you at home.’

  Being so happy to see him, I couldn’t be cross with him for making fun of my predicament. ‘How did Sonny find you?’ I asked.

  ‘He was riding through the square!’ Sonny said. ‘I saw him coming in this morning and recognised him.’ A broad smile crossed his face. ‘An’ then he took me into the palace to wait a long time. I’ve been inside it!’

  ‘I’ve been away for a day or two on an assignment for Her Grace,’ Tomas said. ‘Your young friend here was lucky enough to catch me as I returned.’

  ‘He had to go and see the queen!’ Sonny burst out. ‘I gave him the letter, then waited in his room for ages while he went and saw the gracious queen Her Majesty!’

  Tomas nodded. ‘And during this time I was also informed by a certain lady-in-waiting of what had occurred in my absence.’ There was a pause, then Tomas looked at me and shook his head. ‘So … stealing jewels … what are we going to do with you, Mistress Lucy?’

  ‘Really and truly I didn’t!’ I burst out. ‘Can I just –’

  ‘Before you start!’ Sonny said. ‘I don’t want to hear no more than I oughta.’

  ‘Wise fellow,’ said Tomas. ‘Why don’t you wait for us in the street?’

  There was a silence after he’d left, and Tomas looked at me rather sternly. ‘I’ll not mince words, Lucy,’ he said. ‘Directly after I received your letter from Sonny’s hands, Mistress Juliette came to tell me that you were discovered in her room, and that you had stolen some gold and jewels. Do you deny this?’

  I felt my face redden with anger. ‘Yes, I do!’

  ‘You were not there?’

  ‘I was there,’ I said, ‘but I didn’t take anything. Not a wisp, a feather nor a mote of dust!’ I looked at him imploringly. ‘You must believe me.’

  ‘So why did you go into her chamber?’

  I took a deep breath. ‘Because of what I told you; what I discovered about her.’

  He frowned deeply, but nodded at me to go on.

  ‘I am perfectly sure that she is not who she says she is.’

  Tomas was shaking his head almost before I’d finished. ‘And I am perfectly sure that your Lady Ashe must have two nieces.’

  ‘My mother assured me that she has not. The Ashes are the principal family in our village and my mother and the other village goodwives know their lineage as intimately as they know their own. Better, probably.’

  ‘Hmm.’ He frowned again and turned away from me slightly, enabling me to admire his profile and the shape of his nose.

  ‘Don’t you believe me?’ I asked when I couldn’t bear to wait a moment longer.

  ‘I believe you believe it to be true,’ he said, and after a pause added, ‘and I also believe you to be innocent of theft.’

  I sighed with relief.

  ‘Could there possibly be two Lady Margaret Ashes? And could someone else have taken Mistress Juliette’s jewels?’

  ‘I was there when she said she found them in my room!’

  Of a sudden he seemed to come to a decision, and took up my hand. ‘We must go to the palace!’

  ‘What? ’ I was horrified.

  ‘’Tis the only way. We must go to the palace, speak to Mistress Juliette and clear up this matter. We must hear what she has to say about it.’

  ‘I cannot,’ I said, shaking my head and backing away.

  ‘You must,’ he said. ‘Or you will have a charge of treason on your head – for you must know that a violation against one of the queen’s ladies is a violation against the queen herself.’

  ‘No!’ I protested.

  ‘And if such a charge was brought, you and I would never be able to meet again.’

  As I heard these words and understood them, my eyes filled with tears. I looked at him. ‘Then I must go with you,’ I said.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tomas gave me the choice of going to the palace as I was, in my boy’s garb, or going back to the house on Green Lane to change.

  Vanity won the day, for I could no more have entered the palace and faced Juliette unkempt and dressed as a boy with torn hose and dirty knees, than I could have ridden on a hog to Bartholomew Fair. So, in spite of the seriousness of my situation, it was with the required amount of all-boys-together conviviality to fool the guard that the three of us went back towards the house.

  Seeing him standing outside with his halberd I felt nervous as we approached, but he seemed more interested in chatting to a buxom street-seller who was crying fresh mackerel than in checking who was going in and out of the house.

  I went through to the kitchen, surprising Mistress Midge, who gave a scream when she saw me. ‘Lucy!’ she hissed. ‘Lord above, what a risk to take! The guards have been all over the house turning things upside down, and are sure to return.’

  ‘I had to come back here to change my clothes …’

  ‘They even looked inside my skillets – though what they hoped to find there the Lord only knows.’

  ‘Tomas says I must go to the palace to try and make things right,’ I said, ‘and I can’t go looking like this.’

  Only then did she look me up and down and take in my dishevelled appearance. ‘No more you can,’ she said. She pulled a horrified face. ‘But – to go to the palace. Is that wise?’

  Tomas appeared from the hall. ‘It takes a fool like me to know that it is wise, Mistress Midge,’ he said, bowing to her. ‘I think Lucy must face her opponent, so that each can say their piece.’ He clasped her hand and kissed it. ‘I’m sure you agree, do you not?’ he said, and smiled so winningly that Mistress Midge did no more than give him a simpering nod.

  I went to the courtyard to draw some water, then washed my face, combed my hair and put on my best gown of green velvet, the one given to me by Charity Mucklow, the Puritan’s daughter. It seemed, for good or ill, that things were coming to a head and I needed to look my best for whatever was going to happen. I was very scared, but knew myself to be honest and loyal to our queen, and determined that I would not be overpowered without a fair fight. Leaving the house, I took the same route as before: out of the house by the back door and through the courtyard, while Tomas went ahead and waited for me in Milk Street.

  We began to walk towards Whitehall, each deep in our own thoughts. My ankle pained me somewhat, making me limp, but this was the smallest of my worries and I didn’t even mention it. After all, I thought, a sprained ankle could be treated with herbs and simples, but a crime against a member of the queen’s household was treated by putting you on the rack.

  Tomas, seeming to sense my unease, began to tell
me of the new banqueting hall the queen had erected in the gardens of the palace. It was, he said, made of white sailcloth fabric, lit by candle-holders and decorated with swags of fresh flowers. It looked exceedingly lovely and had much pleased the queen.

  ‘And is Her Grace in good spirits?’ I asked.

  He gave a wry smile. ‘Not really. At the moment her mind is much taken up with the problem of Mary of Scotland.’

  ‘There is still much discord?’

  ‘There will always be discord. And trouble, disorder, plots and counter-plots from those unhappy people who think our queen is not the rightful monarch.’

  I went to touch my groat for luck when he said this, but of course it wasn’t there.

  ‘The queen has been talked into signing Mary’s death warrant, but I fear she will tear it up at any moment. She doesn’t seem to appreciate the danger she’s in.’

  Once this conversation was over we fell into another silence and, beginning to lose my earlier bravado, I started to fear the confrontation ahead. Would Juliette prove too clever for me? Who else did she have on her side? Was it just a scheme to remove me from London – because of my friendship with Tomas, perhaps – or was there more to her plotting? We went past a glove-maker’s shop, which made me muse on home, and I wondered momentarily if Ma might possibly be wrong about Lady Ashe. Could she have muddled the facts? Just supposing, with the trauma of my father’s death fresh upon her, she’d got the details wrong. Perhaps it was not a niece who had died, but a cousin, or godchild.

  By the time we went through Holbein Gate and crossed the roadway towards the palace, I’d become deeply afraid and felt I could no longer trust my own memory. Suppose I’d somehow taken the jewellery without realising it? What if I’d placed a handful of shiny treasures in my pocket and carried them to my room? Was such a thing possible? At that moment, I feared the worst.