‘They don’t look so dangerous from here, do they?’ she said.
‘My Lady,’ I said, flustered, and tried to rise and let her sit. She refused, but one of her men brought her chair over and she sat in it composedly.
‘You know, I have spent much of my life in a strange limbo,’ she said. ‘At first my life seemed full of joy and promise. I was the King’s own Princess, and he fawned over me and my mother. It seemed so natural. And then, suddenly, I was cut off. My mother was not in favour, and the King had her …’ She broke off a moment, sniffed delicately, and continued, ‘After that, of course, life changed. I found that I had no new clothes, and soon outgrew my old ones. My position was troublesome. And then Edward was born, and my brother came to join Mary and me. We had an enjoyable childhood, I think.’
‘It must have been difficult, too,’ I said.
‘I believe that all have their own crosses to bear to their individual Calvary. My sister is very kind, you see. The only area of life which we dispute is that of our religion. She adheres to her mother’s tradition, while I believe that my father and brother had a different vision. I tend towards the latter, although I am content to take my sister’s instruction.’
She had a disarming manner, when speaking to a man, of turning her head so that she brought the strength of both of her eyes to bear. ‘You know this boy?’
‘Yes, my Lady.’
‘It seems you are adept at discovering the dead and injured,’ she said, and laughed to see my shock, clapping her hands in delight. ‘Do not be afraid! I make no comment about your character – only your misfortune! This boy was helped by you and should be grateful, while Lady Margery’s death was no fault of yours, was it? In truth, I am sorry for her. Her instructions were to control me and my household, no matter what. She was told to manage every aspect of our lives, and refused to allow me even to correspond with my friends. It was intolerable.’
‘You still wrote to Sir Thomas, surely?’
‘Yes.’ She looked away.
A quick inspiration struck me: I recalled my meeting with Blount in his London home. It seemed so long ago now, yet it was little more than a week. He had mentioned that Lady Margery had taken the Princess’s seal so that all correspondence must pass before her, so that she could report it to Bedingfield.
‘I had heard that your own seal was taken?’ I said.
The Princess looked at me very straight. ‘You know that? Yes. She took it. That was why I was keen to learn about it when we last met. I had thought Lady Margery still held it on the necklace about her neck.’
‘Why would you think that?’ I said. I was thinking about the coincidence of Lady Margery carrying two seals about her neck. Yet no one had mentioned the second. That was curious. They had seen and commented on the one signet, as they had about the crucifix, but no one had seen a second seal.
‘I had seen it. When I needed a letter validated, I would ask her for my seal, and she brought it forth.’ Her eyes clouded.
‘You are worried?’
‘It is my seal. If it is taken by my enemies, who can tell what they will not do with it?’
‘Still, it must be a relief that Lady Margery is dead.’
‘A relief? She was my friend!’
Before I could speak on hearing this astonishing comment, there was an almighty crash below us.
We both shot to our feet, and I was staring about me like a peasant who sees his first cannonade when Harvey blundered into the room. He bellowed, ‘To the chamber!’ and held the door wide for the Princess and her ladies to ascend to the chamber, only waiting until the last had passed through the door before slipping through the door himself.
I was about to follow when the boy Gilbert moaned and rose to one elbow. ‘What’s happening?’
‘We’re being attacked, I think,’ I said, and was halfway through the door when I saw the lad attempt to climb to his feet. He swung his legs over the edge and slid from his bench, whimpering as his splinted arm caught an edge and was jarred, but that was nothing compared with the noise he made as his feet hit the floor and he toppled.
‘Quiet! Don’t make so much noise!’ I hissed, but it was no good. The lad was wailing and sobbing like a paid mourner, and I could do nothing to silence him. Instead, I hurried through the door to the main stair just as the first of the men were coming through it. I bleated pathetically, reversed at speed and grabbed the boy, picking him up in my arms. At least I was mostly protected that way, I thought, and then stood, irresolutely.
The men entered, swords ready drawn, and I haughtily gave them a quick look up and down like a captain assessing a troop’s quality on the parade ground. ‘Let me through, please. This fellow is in bad need of a physician.’
‘Who is he?’
‘Gilbert, the son of Sir Walter Throcklehampton. I have to take him to his father.’
To my astonishment, a look of respect appeared in the eyes of the men before me, and their sword-points were lowered some inches, so that I didn’t run the risk of disembowelment, only of castration. Taking this as tacit agreement, I took my burden down the stairs and into the yard, all the while aware of the hairs on the back of my neck rising and waving as if in preparation for a knife or sword blade.
There was none. I reached the court without injury, and there I stood gazing about me like the village’s idiot, wondering what on earth I should do now.
There were plenty of shouts and the odd curse as I stared about me. Gilbert groaned and I hissed at him to keep quiet. ‘If they notice us, we could be in trouble,’ I said.
‘What do you mean?’
‘Just keep quiet and I’ll carry you away from all this,’ I said.
‘Don’t you understand?’ he said. ‘This is my father’s doing!’
‘What!’
He was lucky I didn’t drop him. The idea that his father could have been involved in this was a huge surprise, I don’t know why. By that stage, nothing should have shocked me. I mean, in recent days I had fallen over a body, been beaten up, rescued, watched my master being imprisoned, and I don’t know what else. Yet to learn that the widower of Lady Margery was in fact himself a traitor was somehow more of a bolt from the blue than I had expected.
I took a deep breath. ‘So he is a rebel? He wants to see Lady Elizabeth on the throne instead of our Queen?’
‘No. He wants people to think that the Princess is plotting to take Queen Mary’s throne, so that he can denounce her and be rewarded.’
I considered this while walking towards the stables. If the Princess was right and Lady Margery carried both seals, that would explain why Sir Walter was still searching for a seal. He wanted the Princess’s. The boy winced and sucked in his breath in pain a couple of times, but I was as careful with him as I could be. Inside, there was a bench where the grooms would sit and polish their harnesses, I imagine. I put the boy down on this and squatted at his feet. He was dreadfully pale, but at least he hadn’t thrown up all over me yet.
‘Did your mother know all this?’
‘I expect so.’
‘But you aren’t happy about it?’
He looked at me very straight then. ‘My mother disapproved very much, and so do I, but what could we say or do against him?’
I smiled at his innocence. ‘I know it must be hard, Gilbert. But, you see, your mother was installed in there purely to keep a close watch on Lady Elizabeth. She was an intelligencer for the enemies of the Lady, who sought to watch her every move and gather evidence of her misbehaviour.’
He did not return my smile. ‘She was forced to go there by my father. She hated spying on the Lady Elizabeth.’
‘I think she would have been able to make herself less unpopular, if she wanted to help the Princess.’
‘My father wanted her to incriminate Lady Elizabeth. He wanted her to use the Princess’s seal to write a letter, but she wouldn’t do it. That was why they argued so much.’
‘They argued?’
Just then there were m
ore shouts from the gatehouse and the sound of wood thudding, as though being beaten by a heavy hammer. The noise reverberated through the wall of the stable, as though the stables were complaining about the violence being done to the chamber nearby. Gilbert winced, and I looked up as a fine dust sprinkled down on us through the rafters above. Making a quick decision, I picked him up again – he was beginning to feel heavy by this time – and carried him to the door, but there I hesitated at the sight. Out in the courtyard, Sir Walter and the Coroner stood conferring in a corner, while Sir Henry Bedingfield stood quietly nearby, his face fretful as he watched the desecration of the Princess’s quarters. In his eyes I thought I saw the panic of a man who has always attempted to do the right thing, and who now is forced to collude with others who hold to a different set of beliefs.
There were some men gathered near Sir Henry, but they were held under the watchful gaze of six of the Coroner’s men. All were familiar. I could see a couple of the men who had been on the gates in recent days, and one who was a steward, and three grooms. They looked grumpy at being held at spear-point.
‘Don’t take me to him,’ Gilbert pleaded in a low voice. He was staring at Sir Walter. I turned and strolled back into the stables before we were noticed. Dust was still filtering through the rafters with each knock above, but that was less concerning to me just now. All I could think of was Sir Walter and the look on Sir Henry’s face.
‘You said that Sir Walter and your mother argued a lot,’ I said, making him as comfortable as I could on the bench.
‘Mother felt that it was beneath her dignity to spy. She disapproved of the new religion, but she thought if God wanted England to return to the Catholic faith, He would make it happen.’
‘How long were they married?’
‘Sir Walter married her four years ago. After my father died.’
‘Ah yes, I heard of him. He was a Neville, wasn’t he?’
‘No. My grandfather was a Neville. My father was a Percy. He was a brave man,’ Gilbert said, lifting his chin with pride. ‘But he died, and when he did, the borders became more dangerous, and my mother brought me down to London for safety. Then Sir Walter met her, and the marriage was proposed.’
‘You don’t like him, do you?’
‘No. He is unkind, and only ever thinks of money.’
‘I have heard that the Princess’s seal was also on your mother’s necklace.’
‘I don’t think so. She only ever had the one.’
‘And that was your grandsire’s.’
‘Yes.’
‘So what happened to the second seal, then? The Princess was adamant that it was about your mother’s throat.’
And I didn’t add the comment, but I was aware of the little mark about his mother’s dead neck where a necklace could have been pulled away. Someone must have thought that the Princess’s seal was still there.
There was a sudden crash, then a roar of glee, and the thundering changed from sledgehammer blows against timbers to the regular pounding of booted feet on the floorboards. The fine dust settled on us, and no more seemed to be falling now. I was just congratulating myself on escaping a nasty-looking fight when there came a rumble and shouts.
I went back to the doorway and was just in time to see my friend Harvey being bustled from the gatehouse. He was pushed hard at the top of the steps; with his hands bound at his back, he could do nothing to protect himself, while the men-at-arms behind him laughed to see him slam to the ground. He rolled over and came up on his arse, legs stuck out in front of him, apparently taking a careful note of all the people who were watching. After him came two of Princess Elizabeth’s manservants, and then, with little shrieks of alarm, three ladies-in-waiting, before Elizabeth herself appeared.
She looked queenly, I have to admit. With her head held high, she walked out from her rooms with her nose in the air and glanced about her as though there was no one in the courtyard but her. She looked down at Harvey, and murmured something, but before Harvey could answer, a boot caught the side of his head and he went over again. This time he didn’t rise so swiftly. I felt sick on his behalf.
‘What is the meaning of this?’
The Coroner stepped forward with Sir Walter at his side. ‘This gives me no pleasure, my Lady. However, it has been said that you conspired to see Lady Margery Throcklehampton murdered, and you paid a man to ensure that the foul act was carried out.’
‘Who suggests that I was in any way responsible for poor Lady Margery’s death?’ Lady Elizabeth demanded.
‘We have your captain held in the cell now,’ Sir Walter said. ‘It was only a matter of time before he confessed.’
‘I have no idea—’
Sir Walter tried to speak, but the Coroner jumped in first. ‘Lady Elizabeth, you don’t realize how much we have already gleaned. Your man Blount is talking already. He could not cope with the various … implements at the castle’s disposal. He has told us that he was ordered to kill Lady Margery because she was a spy in your household and had seen a letter you sent under your own seal.’
‘This is outrageous! My seal was taken by Lady Margery.’
‘So you deny having the Lady killed so you could write this.’
Lady Elizabeth looked at it and her face seemed to stiffen, like a dying man’s just before his last breath when all turns to softness and relaxation. ‘That is not a letter I recognize,’ she said.
‘You deny your signature, your seal, the mark of your office?’
‘It is false! I have not had my seal in days, and any man can copy a signature,’ she said.
The Coroner opened the letter and waved it. ‘This letter clearly states that you want to have a force of men here. You instruct Sir Thomas Parry to gather men loyal to you to come and free you from your captivity, and to organize an army to march on London and the Queen.’
‘That is a lie! I have never written that and—’
‘Lady Elizabeth, I—’
‘Do not presume to interrupt me, Coroner!’ Lady Elizabeth spat, and if they could have, her eyes would have flashed lightning at the man. As it was, I felt her words like a kick in the ballocks. He would have been a better man than me, had he continued to speak. She continued with a loud, clear declaration: ‘I may look like a weak and feeble woman, but I am not so foolish as to plot to harm my beloved sister! I am content with my lot here in Woodstock, and will remain here until it pleases my sister to release me. Until that day, I will stay. However, you may be assured that the foul mistreatment of my staff and my belongings will be noted. Even now your agents rifle through my clothes and letters, seeking I know not what. It is my belief that they seek to pillage and loot, and perhaps even one or more might deposit incriminatory material in my room.’
‘They are only there to aid you, my Lady,’ the Coroner said smoothly. ‘They hope to recover your mislaid seal. Perhaps it will be discovered up there.’
‘Really? And then you can, of course, accuse me of the crime of writing that,’ Lady Elizabeth said, indicating the paper with a flick of her finger. ‘Except I neither wrote, nor dictated, nor sealed that letter. You must try to do better.’
‘We have the letter, and when we find your seal, my Lady, we shall have all the proof we need.’
‘Sir Walter,’ Lady Elizabeth said, ‘I am very disappointed to find you involved in this treasonous fiction. I respected your wife.’
‘She was a good Catholic woman. Your heretical views were enough to make her wish to help bring you down,’ Sir Walter said. He sounded like a man who was holding his anger at bay with enormous difficulty.
‘Really? She always seemed most accommodating to me,’ Lady Elizabeth said.
She said no more. Instead, she stood in the court and surveyed the area with every appearance of patience. Upstairs, the men lumbered about, and I heard heavy furniture being moved, planks being levered aside, clumping boots and occasional thuds as items of value were unceremoniously deposited on the floor. Through it all, the Princess stood lik
e one who can endure any indignity, until at last she glanced up at the sky and spoke quietly to one of her ladies-in-waiting. At once, her manservants formed an honour guard before her, one helping Harvey to stand. He looked confused and wobbly on his feet, but apart from that he was well enough.
‘Where are you going?’ the Coroner snapped. He was growing testy with the lack of food and drink.
‘You may stand here in the cool, if you wish. I am going to Mass, as my sister the Queen wishes,’ Elizabeth informed him. ‘I will not break her firm injunction.’
‘You will remain here, my Lady,’ the Coroner said.
‘I will go to the chapel now, and if you attempt to prevent me, you will have to answer for all your actions. I can assure you, Coroner, that even if you were to install incriminating items in my chambers, and find a written confession of mine signed in my own blood, yet would you suffer all the indignities my sister could conceive of, were you to prevent me making my peace with my Maker!’
She held his gaze with a haughty rage, and then she and her companions crossed the yard to the chapel, and I saw them stand aside for her as she entered, dipping her fingers in the stoup of Holy Water at the door and crossing herself, before the others in her party did the same.
I wished I was in there with her. I would feel much safer in the presence of a strong-willed lady like her.
It was enough to spark an idea.
I did not dare leave the stable. It was in plain view of all the men in the courtyard. I did glance quickly out, and I was almost certain I saw Bedingfield’s eye upon me, but I must have been mistaken because he made no sign of seeing me, but instead turned and stared at something over to the left. In fact, he was so engrossed in whatever it was he had spotted that the Coroner noted his stare, and he and Sir Walter both followed his gaze with some annoyance, wondering what he had seen.
It was enough for me. I peered along the stalls and saw that there was light at the farther end of the stable. I made my way along the cobbled floor until I found a second entrance at that end. It was much nearer to the chapel, and I hurried back to collect the boy, whom I was beginning to view as a personal mascot of safety, and thence back to the second door.
A Murder too Soon Page 18
