They continued in silence for five minutes. Instinctively, neither wished to break the moment.
‘You didn’t speak at the meeting,’ Tom finally observed.
‘There were a lot of questions on my mind’.
‘About what? The events at Bolton Hall?’
‘Yes, of course. If what Robert Petty suspects is correct and the radical mob wanted to make their mark outside London, why choose Bolton Hall? Your parents are not known as rabid royalists. There are many more obvious targets.’
‘Maybe those places are better defended for that very reason, or situated in more public places, nearer the city,’ Tom replied. ‘Bolton Hall is more of a backwater. Less chance of being disturbed. And it could be the same gang we encountered at the warehouse, with a point to prove. I’ve even been thinking perhaps our house was attacked because I refused to sign the Bill of Attainder that condemned Strafford to death. That could also explain why that gang came the warehouse. The word is about; and I’m known for my friendship with Barty, a King’s man, who also didn’t sign.’
‘Well that could be another reason,’ Elizabeth calmly replied. ‘Still, I am not convinced. There’s something nagging in the back of my mind. Something your father said a while ago but I can’t put my finger on it. Anyway, let us see what Mr. Petty’s enquiries uncover. Of course, a certain person I am visiting next week might have a view. ‘
He could tell she was bursting to share her news. ‘So who is that – someone important?’
‘No, not really. Only the Countess of Carlisle.’
‘Lucy Carlisle, formerly the Earl of Strafford’s mistress?’
‘Now hush. I’m surprised at you! That’s just court gossip.
‘But why on earth would Lucy Carlisle want you?’
‘Tom! How deeply hurtful. A lady of my talents, there could be many things. Maybe she wants to know where to buy the best Virginian tobacco.’
They both burst out laughing which subsided, once again, into silence.
‘No doubt I will find out when I see her, but one thing’s for sure.’ Elizabeth added. ‘There’ll be no time for dizzy wits or she’ll have me for breakfast.’
Chapter 8
Little Salisbury House, Strand
A rustle of fabric made Elizabeth turn to see the Countess of Carlisle enter the room. Lucy Carlisle, the royal courtier famed throughout England, was standing before her. Try as she might, she could not suppress a feeling of nervousness and, to her dismay, a certain deference.
‘The Countess stepped forward to greet her. ‘How good of you to come! I have looked forward to our meeting very much.’ She doubted that, but Lucy Carlisle was renowned as much for her charm as her beauty. She must want something, Elizabeth concluded, but for the life of her she could not imagine what.
‘Let us it sit by the window. There is such a wonderful view of the garden and the river beyond, don’t you think? Would you like some refreshment?’
Elizabeth politely declined and followed her host to the end of the room where they settled into two exquisite reception chairs. Probably French and absurdly expensive. To keep the enveloping sense of unreality at bay, she calculated the price of one seat and realised it would keep her in tobacco for a year. She pinched her leg, as she accepted Lucy’s invitation to sit. I’m in the presence of the she-wolf. Must keep alert.
‘So, here we are,’ Lucy said. ‘How pleasant.’
She studied her host. Her dress was dazzling in aquamarine silk, with an embroidered petticoat studded with perfect small sapphires. She was now past her fortieth year but, despite the first hints of a double chin, the Countess retained sufficient confidence in her appearance to wear a low cut bodice, set off by a spectacular pearl necklace. Her hair was also a la mode, surrounding her face with tight pale brown curls.
If not a work of art, her appearance was the result of much consideration. Her eyes, her smile, even her exquisite smell, matched by her jewel encrusted clothes created a shimmering presence and, once again, Elizabeth felt herself drawn in. She had wondered if Lucy would be in black, so soon after the death of her very close friend, the Earl of Strafford. But to do so would have confirmed the rumour that they had become lovers following the death of her husband the Earl of Carlisle five years ago. And showing her hand was not in Lucy’s nature
‘I am sure you will be busy, so I will get straight to the point. I believe you and I share a good friend.’ Elizabeth’s brow furrowed. The mystery was deepening.
‘No?’ Lucy continued. ‘Well, how surprising. I’m sure you would not have forgotten him. Henry Jermyn is such a dashing fellow.’
Elizabeth was jolted out of her reverie. Now the reason for their meeting had her full and anxious attention. Henry Jermyn had fled England weeks earlier when his plan to release Strafford from the Tower was uncovered. She had learned to both fear and despise the man in the past and had offered up a silent prayer of thanks when he left the country.
‘Ah, Mr. Jermyn, of course. I should have realised you would be known to each other,’ she replied with a sardonic smile. ‘But I haven’t seen him in quite a time and now I hear he is abroad?’
‘He has been treated most unfairly,’ Lucy said with a childish pout that, in a breath, turned into a genteel sneer. ‘His part in that scheme was completely overstated. But see how they twisted the truth to condemn my poor Strafford to the block. What else can you expect?’
Elizabeth had to tread carefully. Jermyn was the Queen’s favourite but now Her Majesty had been denied his company because of his attempt to free Strafford, Lucy’s ‘special’ friend. This was not something Lucy would want the Queen to dwell upon.
‘Before his hasty departure, Mr. Jermyn secured the King’s agreement to appoint my brother-in-law the Earl of Leicester to the position of Lord Lieutenant of Ireland, to replace my fallen Strafford. He was a most accommodating fellow, and now he too has gone. It’s too much, really,’ and the stone face now shed a tear. Lucy was giving a full performance of her wiles at their first meeting. Should she feel flattered or was this Lady Carlisle’s usual modus operandi?
‘But Henry Jermyn has left me with one final gift – you!’ Lucy smiled and clapped her hands with delight.
Elizabeth shrank into her chair, repulsed at the notion of being Jermyn’s gift to give and Lucy Carlisle’s to accept. This was no good. She must get on the front foot. ‘Well, I am at your service, Lady Carlisle. How exactly can I help?’
The reception room was large with no one else present. Nevertheless, the Countess leaned forward and lowered her voice conspiratorially. ‘What I will tell you must never be repeated, do you understand? Not under any circumstances.’
She nodded, not taking her eyes off Lucy Carlisle’s face.
‘Because of my previous long and loyal service as lady-in-waiting, I have won the Queen’s confidence and earned her trust in all matters. Her Majesty plays a prominent role in the business of the nation and is a constant and valued advisor to our King, especially during these most challenging times. Our current travails take the King to many different parts of this island. Recently he was in Scotland to subdue those with rebellious intentions. In such circumstances, it is imperative that the flow of information between King and Queen continues uninterrupted, as affairs of state are currently in a delicate condition.’ At last Elizabeth could see what was coming, and it filled her with misgivings.
‘Their most gracious majesties require a unique system to encode their correspondence and it will be very much to my advantage if I can provide it. The cipher must be newly minted, unknown by any other than its creator. Henry Jermyn once told me he was confounded by a code that had defeated his best men, and you cracked it within a matter of hours. He could not speak highly enough of your talents. He assured me you would be both willing and able to create a cipher that would be safe and relatively easy to use.’
Elizabeth sighed. Damn Jermyn. She had only acquiesced to his request under duress, when he threatened to ruin her father’s c
areer in Whitehall. She must assume that threat remained, only now her father would be in the clutches of Lucy Carlisle.
The Countess fixed her with a sweet smile and eyes of steel. ‘So, Elizabeth Seymour. I am giving you an opportunity to serve your King and Queen, in their time of need.’
‘What say you?’
Chapter 9
The Bolt and Tunn Inn, Alsatia
Jack Dancer held up the gold bracelet to a shaft of sunlight penetrating the gloom. He turned it over, playing the light over a row of small rubies running down its centre.
‘Hmm, pretty little piece,’ he murmured and slipped it into his pocket before turning to a small pile of jewellery on the table. He glanced at the meagre haul in silence, save for the tapping of his knuckles on the tabletop. Dancer stepped back and sat down. He reached for his tankard and swallowed a long draught of beer. ‘So, this is everything?’
Billy Boy fidgeted nervously in his usual place, a wooden stool in the corner of the room facing Jack. From the bitter experience of others, he had learned to keep two arms’ length from his master at all times. The stool was a deliberate choice. Easy to vacate in a hurry, it also provided a useful obstacle should Jack make one of his unpredictable, venomous lunges. Such attention to detail kept Billy Boy alive and in his position of chief accomplice to Jack Dancer. He had lasted six months, twice as long as his predecessor, each day like living on the gallows with a rope around his neck, never knowing when the floor would disappear beneath him. But it had its compensations.
‘There’s also some silver plate. Nothing special. You told us not load ourselves with too much.’
‘And this is everything? No-one tempted to lift a piece or two for themselves?’
‘I got all the boys to turn out their pockets before we left the Hall. I told them how you’d take it, if any tried it on. And they know not to say a word if they want to see another day.’
‘Good. Well hopefully that will confuse the Tallants. Did we visit to rob the place or go on the rampage? It sounds like the lads enjoyed themselves!’ and Dancer’s face broke into a sour grin.
‘We upended every room. Caused so much damage you couldn’t have known we were looking for anything.’
Dancer’s head jerked up and he fixed Billy Boy with a murderous glare. ‘And, as far as anyone was concerned, you weren’t looking, were you, except for the gems you pocketed.’
Billy instinctively half rose from his stool, ready to escape: ‘No, no, Jack. Only the jewellery. That’s what I told the lads. Find a few valuables and then enjoy yourselves with a bit of carnage at the Tallants' expense. But I was taking a good peep while they were having fun, following them, from room to room, keeping my eyes open for…anything else.’
Dancer leaned back and said nothing. He removed a long dagger from his belt and impaled the tabletop. ‘And, let’s just check one more time. You found nothing?’
Billy could feel the stare from his master’s cold blue eyes burning through his brain. A spasm of panic twisted his gut. He was terrified of leaving a shred of doubt in Dancer’s mind. His life could depend on it. ‘Nothing. Nothing at all.’ He heard his voice croak like a frog, as fear flooded his body.
Jack Dancer held his gaze and then turned away. ‘Tis a pity. But not a surprise.’
‘I still don’t understand why we didn’t raid the house when the Tallants were home and make ‘em tell us where everything was?’
Dancer sighed and gave Billy a look of disdain. ‘Because then they would know what we were looking for, wouldn’t they? And before we could blink , it would be shipped to their family in Amsterdam, for safekeeping. Then where would we be? No, we need to keep them guessing, but keep on searching.’
‘And what about the Jesuits? Do we keep looking for them?’
‘For the moment, let’s keep that iron in the fire, Billy, as their eminences from the Inquisition might have put it. Also – don’t be tempted to fence those jewels or silver plate. Bury them for now. Nothing can be traced back to us, do you understand? Nothing.’
Chapter 10
Bolton Hall
Ralph Tallant was not a small man, and unaccustomed to looking upwards towards anyone. So Tom was startled to see him overshadowed by two giants as together they walked into the garden at Bolton Hall.
He was sitting at a table with Elizabeth, Robert Petty and Barty by the spreading meddler tree full of new fruit. They had been called together by his father to review progress on the investigation into the attack on Bolton Hall.
‘What ho, Tom. Good morrow one and all.’ Ralph inclined his head to each in turn. ‘Good of you to come. Let me introduce Dirck and Jan.’ He pointed to each and then stopped. Have I got that the right way round? No? Oh well, we will all learn soon enough!’
Both men smiled and stepped forward, bowing towards Elizabeth and then the others. Identical twins, both six foot three inches with immensely powerful shoulders and hands the size of dinner plates.
‘It appears we are living in increasingly uncertain and unstable times,’ Ralph continued. ‘There has been a number of threats and attacks on our staff and property and there could well be worse to come. So I have decided to call in reinforcements. My brother-in-law Jonas in Amsterdam has kindly agreed to the loan of two of his finest,’ and here he presented the twin giants with a flourish. ‘Both are skilled wharf men but also know how to handle themselves should trouble occur. I’m sure you will agree they are a valuable addition to our team. I will sleep a little easier knowing they are looking over us. For now, Dirck is to be based at the warehouse and Jan here at Bolton Hall.’
Tom noticed throughout that Dirck was whispering to his brother. He assumed Jan’s knowledge of English was limited, so it was sensible to assign him to Bolton Hall. A month or two under the tutorship of his mother Beatrix would have him talking English like a native.
The twins were taken back to the house to continue their introductions while Ralph sat at the table with the others. ‘Jonas tells me they’re inseparable and always work, fight and play together. Unfortunately we need cover both here and on the river, so it will be interesting to see how they cope apart. Anyway, to business. Mr. Petty, have you made any progress with your investigation?’
‘In a manner of speaking, Sir Ralph. The most noteworthy result is that I have virtually no new information.’ Tom could see his father frown, but Elizabeth nodded her head. ‘I have used all my usual contacts throughout the City and particularly along the river. Most hadn’t heard about the robbery at Bolton Hall. A few were aware of a break-in, but didn’t have any details, or any knowledge of who might be responsible.’
‘And in your experience, Mr. Petty,’ Elizabeth cut in, ‘that is unusual, in fact barely credible?’
Petty nodded. ‘Especially when the attack was so well planned and involved at least ten people. It tells me this was either the work of a gang from out of town, or the instigator is a man who has the power to silence a lot of voices in the City.’
‘That’s interesting’ Ralph replied. ‘After the attack, I asked my son Peter for his opinion, given his influence within the Puritan community. He surprised me. I expected a tongue lashing when I suggested godly radicals could be responsible. Instead he admitted there are a number of hot-heads among Pym’s junto and, for our own protection, we should not discount the possibility of their involvement. He was angry about what happened, both for our sakes and the damage it did to the Puritan cause, and said he would keep his ear to the ground.
‘So it was political?’ Tom interjected. ‘Set up by Pym or one of his cronies? There can’t be many more powerful people in the land at the moment than John Pym.’
‘Well, I can’t imagine anyone based a long distance away trying something like this,’ Petty added. ‘ It would be almost impossible to bring a large group this close to London without attracting attention.’
‘Quite so,’ Elizabeth replied. ‘That leaves Pym’s Apprentice Boys but I do not imagine they are well suited to subterfuge and
careful minute-by-minute planning. Don’t they act more on instinct? Also, if they left London hell-bent on rampaging through Bolton Hall, and arrived only half of the hour after your parents left, why didn’t their paths cross? They must have had extraordinary luck to remain undetected, or they weren’t on the London road to Bolton Hall, which as we have discussed is unlikely and I…’
Ralph interrupted. ‘Elizabeth, your ingenious mind is once again producing many valuable questions, but answer me this,’ and here he coughed and softened his tone, ‘if they were not Apprentice Boys, not politically motivated, they must have had theft in mind. So, if they went to so much trouble to plan this raid, with so many people involved, why did they spend more time damaging the house than looking for other valuables to steal? I grant you, the furniture would be difficult to carry back to London, but there were many things they ignored, for example a number of valuable miniatures in our collection of paintings.’
Petty now spoke up. ‘And if they were thieves, why have they not sold their haul? I have spoken to a number of villains who buy stolen goods, and owe me a favour. None have seen any of the items from Bolton Hall on the market.
‘As I thought’ Ralph added. ‘No, I’m sure I have damn Pym to thank for this. I don’t know how yet, but I swear he will regret crossing swords with my family.’
Chapter 11
Bishop’s Gate, East London
Elizabeth pulled the hood of her cloak tightly around her as she headed north up Bishop’s Gate Street.
Londoners were up and about their business and the streets were crowded. The press on the wooden boardwalk kept forcing her on to the road, which resembled a midden more than a thoroughfare. It was like this throughout the city which was drowning under the weight of its growing population. People were dumping waste anywhere and everywhere, and the city’s rudimentary sewage system was completely overwhelmed.
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