The Elizabeth Tudor Conspiracy

by Alexandra Walsh

  “Assuming she was still alive,” said Kit.

  Perdita shot him a confused look, wondering why he was being so negative. Instinct told her this was the correct path to follow in order to find the missing Tudor princess in the same way it had guided her to the chapel at Marquess House in their search for Catherine’s grave.

  The research into the ruby ring had been put on hold as the start of the wedding celebrations took over Castle Jerusalem.

  Tonight was the first drinks party to welcome the new guests. Perdita had arranged to meet Kit at the bottom of the staircase which divided the family wing from the towers she and Piper were staying in, once they had changed into their formal gear.

  “Wow! Perds, you look beautiful,” exclaimed Kit, as she appeared in a whirl of purple and black.

  “You don’t look too bad either,” she replied.

  Privately, Perdita thought Kit looked great. In the few months she had known him, Kit had usually worn casual clothes. During the summer in Pembrokeshire this had been surf shorts, t-shirts and jeans. Here in Andorra, with the cold weather intensifying every day, his work uniform had become jeans, boots and jumpers. Dressed in an impeccably cut black suit with pristine white shirt and swirling patterned purple tie, he looked more handsome than she had ever seen him. Even his unruly curls had been tamed and were swept back from his forehead.

  “Shall we?” He offered her his arm.

  Sliding her hand through his and walking closely beside him, Perdita could smell the faint lemon tang of his expensive aftershave.

  “Who’s going to be at this soirée?” she asked.

  “Mostly local friends: the Merriweathers, who own the hotel and ski centre down the road. Other friends of Mum and Dad’s, Pablo’s family who live in the capital Andorra La Vella and some of Megan’s contacts from the government, not to mention everyone from here. Where’s Piper?”

  “She went down earlier. Megan wanted her to check the decorations.”

  “Quick, come in here,” Kit said suddenly, pulling her into a small sitting room off the large stone entrance hall. “I want to tell you something.”

  Before Perdita could protest, he had propelled her into the cosy, fire-lit room.

  “Come and sit down.” He ushered her towards the sofa but rather than sit beside her, he stood by the fire, gazing into the flames as though struggling with what to say, something which was unlike him.

  “Has something happened?” Perdita asked.

  “What? No.” He came out of his reverie. “Sorry Perds, no. It’s only me being indecisive about whether or not I’m about to make a colossal prat of myself.”

  “Whatever you say, you won’t make a colossal prat of yourself,” she reassured him.

  He ran his hand nervously through his curly hair. “Maybe, maybe not,” he murmured, then he took a deep breath as though steeling himself to get the worst over. “There’s a strong possibility Suki Merriweather will be here this evening.”

  “Who’s Suki Merriweather?” asked Perdita, thinking she sounded like a character from a children’s book.

  “She’s the youngest of the Merriweather family. They’re the closest thing we have to neighbours here and her parents, Toby and Linda Merriweather, are friends of Mum and Dad. You haven’t met them yet because they’ve been in Australia for the past few months.”

  Perdita had no idea where this was going but she had never seen Kit so agitated. Remaining silent, she waited for him to continue.

  “Anyway, Suki arrived in Andorra this afternoon and she texted me. And —” he began to pace up and down, rubbing his palms together in a nervous gesture Perdita had never seen him use before — “well, some years ago, she and I had a bit of a drunken kiss one New Year’s Eve and I wanted to warn you that she’s a troublemaker, especially when she’s had a few drinks, and that there’s nothing between us, no matter what she might imply. I’ve always made it clear I wasn’t interested in her, at all; and, well, I wanted you to know. I wouldn’t want her to cause any problems between us.”

  He ground to a halt and Perdita sat in stunned silence. This was the last thing she had expected him to divulge. She would have been lying if she denied there was a spark of attraction between them but neither of them had ever referred to it, until now.

  Kit looked at her imploringly.

  “Thanks for telling me, Kit,” she said, before joining him by the fire and giving him a hug. “I appreciate your honesty. I’ll bear in mind all you’ve said if I meet Suki Merriweather this evening.”

  “There’s something else, too, and this is the bit I need you to hear from me first,” he said. “Suki’s very pretty and she knows it,” continued Kit. “She’s also extremely dull.”

  “That’s a bit harsh.”

  “In all the years I’ve known her, we’ve never had a conversation which hasn’t involved her name-dropping several minor celebrities ‘who are, like, my really good friends’,” said Kit, going into an exaggerated posh London accent. Perdita grinned. “She wants a rich husband, several homes around the world and the chance to suck up to anyone even faintly famous.”

  “And she’s set her sights on you?”

  “Oh no, I’m merely a conquest. She told me that years ago.” Kit took her hand and stared into her unusual storm-coloured eyes, before continuing. “The thing is, Perds, even if she hadn’t said that, I would never have been interested in her.” Perdita stared back at Kit, unsure what to say. When she did not speak, he prompted her, “And we’re OK?”

  “Of course we’re OK,” she said.

  He planted the lightest of kisses on her lips before taking her hand and dragging her to the party in the vast Grande Hall.

  “Ah, there you are!” called Alistair as they entered the room, and before Perdita could protest, Alistair swung her away from Kit’s protective arm, whisking her off on a round of introductions.

  After an hour of small talk and sipping champagne, she caught sight of Piper talking to Stuart and hurried across the room to join them, hooking up a glass of red wine from a tray on her way over.

  “Hi Stuart,” she said, reaching up to accept the kiss on the cheek he proffered.

  Stuart was a similar height to Kit but, along with Megan, he had inherited their mother, Susan’s, colouring. His light brown hair and soft brown eyes were quite different from Kit and Alistair’s more startling Celtic looks with their dark hair and piercing blue eyes.

  “How’s Megan?” Perdita asked Piper, as Stuart was accosted by one of Pablo’s brothers.

  “Glowing — look at her,” replied Piper with a smile. “She and Pablo are so happy. I think she wanted one of us down here as moral support rather than for any decorating adjustments. She hadn’t wanted to ask you because she knows how busy you’ve been.”

  “Oh, Pipes, I’m sorry,” said Perdita, a wave of guilt washing through her. “I should have been here too. As of now, I’m officially at the beck and call of the bride, in any way she needs me.”

  “Brilliant, it’ll good to have some fun together,” said Piper as they chinked glasses.

  A waitress approached with a tray of canapés and, as they took one each, the doors opened to admit more guests, one of whom was a petite blonde, wearing a short, tight black dress. Her large brown eyes swept the room and fixed on first Stuart, then Kit, who was talking to Pablo’s father. However, before she could walk towards him, Susan and Megan hurried over to greet the newcomers. Perdita watched the blonde woman for a few moments.

  “Who’s she?” asked Piper.

  “I suspect she’s Suki Merriweather who once told Kit she planned to have an affair with him.”

  Piper choked on her mouthful of wine, “What?” she croaked through streaming eyes.

  “Kit told me before we came to the party,” said Perdita, watching as Stuart and Kit went to greet the Merriweather family. “He also warned me they had once had a drunken New Year’s Eve kiss and that she’s a troublemaker.”

  “And what did you say in response?”


  “Nothing, because it’s none of my business.”

  “Don’t kid yourself, Perds,” snorted Piper but before she could say any more, Megan called them over to be introduced.

  Suki was fascinated by the fact Perdita and Piper were twins and despite herself, Perdita found herself liking her. Suki was very funny, if slightly bitchy about any female who was not part of Megan’s group of friends.

  As the party progressed, Perdita was becoming increasingly aware of the height of her new heels. When she could bear it no longer, she grabbed Piper and whispered, “I’m going back to our room to change my shoes — these might be beautiful but they’re eating my feet.” As she left, she waved to Kit, who struggled towards her through the throng but she did not wait. Another part of the reason she needed to escape for a few minutes was the constant feeling of Kit’s intense blue gaze on her.

  After changing into more comfortable footwear Perdita wandered back towards the party. She had paused to admire the white beauty of the full moon against the dense blackness of the mountain sky when she heard her name. Two women were sitting on a padded seat in the curve of the corridor, the window beside them open while they smoked. One of the women was Suki Merriweather, the other was a friend of Megan’s, Lara Cunningham. Perdita slipped into a shadowy alcove, wondering what they could be saying about her.

  “And it’s definitely her? Perdita Woodville-Rivers?”

  “Dr Rivers,” corrected Suki. “Don’t forget her PhD. Lydia’s always going on about it.”

  “Suki, I know Lydia’s your friend but don’t you think it’s time you and everyone else impressed upon her the fact that Kit isn’t going back to her, ever.”

  “Believe me, I’ve tried but she’s convinced he’ll, as she puts it, ‘see the error of his ways and run back into her waiting arms’.”

  Lara took a deep drag on her cigarette, then exhaled out of the window before replying. “Has Kit given her any indication that he’s going to change his mind? He’s usually very honest — I can’t imagine he’d be stringing her along. It isn’t in his nature.”

  “None at all,” admitted Suki. “He was very kind to begin with, because I think he felt so guilty about ending it, but he’s losing his patience with her now. She’s been texting and ringing him endlessly asking why she hasn’t been invited to Megan’s wedding. I think Kit feels too guilty to ignore her completely. He said he feels terrible because he knew Lydia had been expecting him to propose, but he had known for a long time that the relationship wasn’t working. Plus, there was another big reason why he couldn’t ask her.”

  “Which was…?”

  “He’d fallen in love with someone else.”

  “What?!”

  “Dr Perdita Woodville-Rivers. Kit took one look at her and fell absolutely head-over-heels in love. The worst thing was, at that point, Perdita was engaged to someone else.”

  With that, they turned the corner and Perdita could no longer hear their conversation. She leant against the wall, shaking. This was not what Kit had told her when he had confessed that his relationship with his long-term girlfriend, Lydia Brooks, was over. He had made it seem a very casual, matter-of-fact event, claiming it had been a mutual decision between him and Lydia. He had not told her of the devastation his actions had caused. Nor, once he had returned to Marquess House after that fateful weekend at his friends’ wedding, had he shown any signs of misery at his newly-single status. In fact, he had seemed positively gleeful.

  Another sentence floated to the surface of her teeming mind, “Kit took one look at her and fell head-over-heels in love.”

  Surely, that was a mistake?

  Perdita closed her eyes, wondering whether to flee back to the tower and lock herself in while she tried to make sense of this unexpected revelation, but she was astute enough to realise her disappearance would be noticed. This is gossip, she told herself. It’s two women talking at a party — it might not even be true.

  Shaking her dark hair back, she forced a smile on to her face and walked back to the party, determined to treat Kit in exactly the same way as always. As she re-entered the room, glancing around for Piper, Kit appeared and led her back towards the lively crowd in the corner. He had taken her hand on many other occasions but this time when he did it she felt a strange, and not unpleasant, tingling.

  The next morning, Perdita and Piper were having breakfast with Kit and Megan when there was a flurry of noise at the door and Deborah’s sons, Elliot and Callum, walked in. Kit gave a cry of joy and rushed over, pulling the dark-haired man into a huge hug, while Elliot laughed. Perdita grinned and turned to her sister, ready for the two of them to be introduced, but when she looked at Piper, she was horrified.

  “Piper, what is it…?”

  All, the colour had drained from Piper’s face and fury filled her eyes.

  “Callum Black!” she snarled, barely able to speak such was her rage. “What the hell is he doing here?”

  “You knew he was coming,” said Perdita, confused by her sister’s reaction.

  “But I never made the connection!”

  “How do you even know him?”

  “He worked for one of the subsidiary companies that employed Jeremy and he came to a tedious black-tie event we had to attend.”

  “And…?”

  “He was Kirstin’s date! We have to tell Alistair.”

  Piper stormed out of the kitchen before Kit could call them over for the introductions. Perdita hesitated, then went over to Kit and said a brief “hello” to Callum, before hurrying after her sister.

  She found Alistair and Susan trying to calm Piper down.

  “Piper has told us about Callum and Kirstin,” said Alistair. “I wasn’t aware of their connection, so I’ll take it from here.”

  “Of course. Come on Pipes, let’s get you sorted out.”

  Perdita led her sister up to their apartment and sat her down by the roaring stove. Piper’s face was stricken. All the happiness of the past weeks had vanished and she was shaking.

  “Pipes, tell me,” whispered Perdita, “this isn’t only about Callum, is it? What else is wrong?”

  Piper gulped, wiping her eyes, then she took Perdita’s hands and her words delivered a blow to Perdita’s confidence.

  “Do you think we can trust the Mackensies?” she asked, in a low, urgent whisper.

  “What?”

  It was the last thing Perdita had expected to hear.

  “I’ve been wondering for a while; do you think we would be safer going it alone and heading back to Marquess House where the Milford Haven Treaty would protect us?”

  “Piper, what’s brought this on? The Mackensies have saved our lives more than once. Why do you doubt them? They couldn’t have done more for us. And, anyway, with Connors on the loose, you know it would be unsafe for us to return at the moment.”

  “But what if it’s is a ruse to keep us here?” said Piper, her voice panicked. “They keep us here while you work out the truth before turning us over to the highest bidder: be that the authorities or Connors.”

  “Piper, this is madness…”

  “What if the Mackensies are part of the conspiracy?” she interrupted. “What if they’re playing both sides? What if they hadn’t expected me to recognise Callum? Even the best criminals make mistakes.”

  Perdita knew a moment of pure fear as Piper’s words tapped into every dark thought she had harboured since their escape from MI1 and the frightening news that Randolph Connors was circling them like a hawk. The three-o’clock in the morning doubts that she had always pushed to one side, the terror that no matter how far they ran and how well they hid they would never be safe…

  Then reason came to her rescue.

  “No,” she said, her voice harsh but firm.

  “But Perds…”

  “If we begin thinking this way, we’re lost. Alistair and Susan, all the Mackensies, have risked their lives to save us. Alistair has never given us any reason to doubt him…”

&nbs
p; “But Callum Black and Kirstin? How do you explain that?”

  “I can’t — yet. We at least need to hear Callum out. His mum has worked here for years, he and Kit are best friends and before you ask, yes, I would trust Kit with both our lives. He’s a good judge of character and, if for any reason, MI1 has got to Callum, you’ve alerted Alistair soon enough for us to be able to deal with it.”

  “But…”

  “No Piper,” said Perdita, her voice gentler now but determined. “We have to deal with this logically. I’ll insist on being in the interview with Alistair and Callum. We will sort this out but I think some of this is your anger with Jeremy and Kirstin.”

  Piper sagged at her sister’s words. For the first time, Perdita saw the fragility behind her sister’s smile. The past months had been hard on them both but Perdita had thought Piper was coping. Now she understood her sister was struggling with their new lives more than she had shown and more than Perdita had realised, particularly the collapse of her marriage.

  “You’re right,” Piper admitted. “I’m sorry, Perds. It’s been so strange and confusing. Even though Jeremy has behaved appallingly, I miss him. Apart for you, he’s been my closest companion all my life. But another part of me hates him and knows his betrayal has destroyed my trust in anyone.”

  “It’s understandable, Pipes.”

  Piper wiped her hand across her eyes. “I’m OK,” she said. “You go and talk to Alistair. Find out what’s going on.”

  Kit and his father were exchanging heated whispers outside his office door.

  “Callum is my best friend, he’s practically one of the family!” Kit exclaimed. “There is no way he’s involved with Kirstin or Randolph Connors.”

  “I’m sure there’s a rational explanation,” agreed Alistair, “but you understand we have to do this and it’s better if you aren’t involved.”