Mistress Spy

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Mistress Spy Page 23

by Mingle, Pamela


  “An official pardon, issued on the queen’s authority, would have changed everything, Nicholas. You know that.”

  Truly, he did not believe the pardon would have made a difference to her, so determined had she been to find redemption. “Would you have given up, if you’d known?” This time he moved faster than Maddy, grasping her arms, giving her a slight shake. “No. You’d never have stopped, and all on account of your worthless brother, curse him. Your brother, who is alive, hiding near Carlisle these many months.” He let go of her and stepped back, so abruptly she nearly fell.

  Now he’d gone too far. He hadn’t meant to break it to her like this, when they were both half-crazed with anger. Maddy’s face crumpled with the shock. “What? Is this some preposterous new ploy to force me to do as you bid?”

  Nicholas sat down, leaning his forehead into his hands. “I knew this would end badly,” he muttered to himself. Then he looked up at her. “Sit by me. You must hear this.”

  Maddy didn’t argue. She wouldn’t, with something so vital at stake. She settled herself beside him, and he allowed himself to hope nothing would change between them.

  Nicholas turned toward her. “Robert was not executed. He bought his way out of it.”

  She gave her head a shake. “That is a lie, invented to further confuse and control me. I witnessed his execution.”

  “Are you certain of that? You saw a man who resembled your brother. Was it you who prepared his body for burial?”

  “No. I never saw him after he…afterward. Kat insisted on doing it herself. She thought it would be too painful for me.”

  “Your sister-in-law made sure you did not.”

  She massaged her forehead, as if that might help clarify matters. “How is it possible to ‘buy your way out’ of an execution?”

  “Generally speaking, it is not. But in your village—Rickerby—the list was short. The executions of four men, your brother being one of them, were stayed.”

  “On what grounds?”

  Nicholas hedged. “Does it matter? Your brother is alive, Maddy. Why concern yourself with the details?”

  “It matters to me. You have deceived me in all ways imaginable; pray do me the honor of telling me the truth about this.”

  Nicholas rose and put some distance between them. It would be easier to reveal the truth if he weren’t so near her. Every word he spoke was driving them farther apart. “To gain their freedom, Robert and the others each had to find someone—a ruffian, thief, or worse—to die in their stead. I don’t know it for a fact, but I’d wager coin changed hands as well.”

  “My brother bartered another man’s life for his own.” Her voice was as flat as a schoolboy’s declining Latin verbs. “That’s what you’re saying?”

  Her face was a mix of sorrow and ire, and he could hardly bear to look at it. “That is the crux of it, yes.”

  She stood, shook out her skirts, and made for the door. “Wait,” Nicholas said and she paused. “I have tried to tell you more than once. Remember the day in the garden, when I asked you about Robert? I very nearly gave you the truth of it then. It pains me to see you hurt. That’s why—”

  “Don’t! You couldn’t tell me because you knew how it would make you look in my eyes. I came to your door, sick and despairing, and begged for help, yet still you let me believe Robert was dead, even though you knew how it grieved me. How you must have laughed when I said I wanted to atone for his death, knowing I’d soon be granted a pardon.” A brittle sound tore from her throat. “I told myself over and over that you were my enemy, that I should never make the mistake of thinking of you as anything more. And then I foolishly disregarded my own counsel.”

  “Don’t leave like this, Maddy. You are not yourself, and that makes you vulnerable. Stay the night here, and we can sort this out in the morning. I’ll send word to Lady Dacre that you’ve taken ill.”

  “Stay here under the same roof with you? With the man who put duty before love? The man who used me, seduced me, and betrayed my trust? I’d rather spend the night in a hovel along the road.” She grabbed her cloak and wrapped it around her shoulders. “Pray call for my horse.”

  Nicholas knew he could do nothing to sway her today. She needed time. When he thrust the door open, it nearly slammed into Daniel. He’d obviously been listening to their conversation, and if he did not comprehend it, he recognized the implications.

  Maddy stopped in her tracks. Daniel’s eyes were big and round, and though he wasn’t crying, fear and confusion reigned in his gaze. Nicholas tried to pull him close, but he wouldn’t allow it. Maddy was standing in the doorway, and it was to her Daniel directed his attention. He opened his mouth, and Nicholas heard a whoosh of air burst out. Felt it. Daniel’s lips pressed together. “M-Ma-Maddy.” The child’s eyes darted back to Nicholas, as though seeking permission to speak to her.

  Daniel had spoken for the first time in a year.

  Maddy dropped to her knees, the better to hear him. “D-don’t g-go. St-stay here w-with us.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Maddy thought it wiser not to show too much elation at Daniel’s speaking. It might frighten him. She yearned to look at Nicholas but would not let herself. “How wonderful to hear your voice, Daniel,” she said.

  Maddy rose so that Nicholas could take her place. He had waited for this day a long time, despaired of its ever coming. Kneeling, he clasped the boy against his chest, burying his face in Daniel’s hair, laughing and crying all at once. This immediately brought tears to her own eyes. She didn’t want to weep, not now, when she must leave and never return. Maddy tiptoed down the hall while uncle and nephew rejoiced together.

  Margery was there to open the door for her. “Did the little one speak?”

  Maddy smiled. “Aye.”

  “’Tis a miracle from God!”

  “Mayhap it is, Margery.” She hurried outside and summoned a groom, who ran off to get her horse. While waiting, Maddy debated whether to go back in and bid Daniel farewell. He would be disappointed if she did not, but the last thing she wanted was to see Nicholas again. Before she had time to decide, the two of them hastened through the doorway.

  “Daniel wishes to make his farewell.”

  The child nodded hesitantly, as though he wasn’t entirely sure. “W-will you come back?” he asked. His words sounded tentative, as if he wasn’t convinced anybody but himself could hear them.

  Maddy nodded. “Aye, to see you.” Will I?

  Nicholas set him down and turned to give orders to the groom. “Escort Mistress Vernon to the gate at the priory, John, and watch until she is safely inside.” He bent down and spoke to Daniel then. “I must speak with Mistress Vernon alone. Go inside to Margery. She might like to hear you talk.”

  Maddy kissed Daniel’s cheek. “I’m so proud of you for trying out your voice. Talking after all this time took courage. Now I know for certain that you are a brave knight, Sir Mouse.” He smiled, hugged her around the neck, and ran inside.

  When she rose, Nicholas was watching her, cheeks wet with tears. If things between them had not changed so drastically, she would take him in her arms and hold him close. They would celebrate together. But now that would not serve. He was the best of fathers for Daniel, but never again could he be anything to Maddy. Neither friend nor lover, but simply a man who had wronged her. Betrayed her. His work for the queen was more to him than she could ever be.

  He reached out for her hand, but she shook him off. Regardless, he spoke. “Maddy. Forgive me for my errors in judgment. My sins and my failures. Forgive me for not being completely honest with you.”

  She shook her head. “I cannot. Not now. Maybe never.”

  He nodded, seeming to accept the finality of her words. “Do you intend to leave the priory?”

  “I’ll remain until I solve the mystery of Cath’s murder. After that, I’ll most likely go home. My relations may believe me dead.” Ironic that she’d thought her brother dead all these months, and he probably thought the same
about her.

  “Pray don’t do anything rash. Get word to me, or the justice of the peace. There is nothing you can do on your own.”

  “I’ll get word to Master Carleton when I leave the priory. That is, if I find out anything. ’Tis doubtful I will.” She glanced at the sky and saw that it was growing late.

  Without another word, Maddy stepped to the mounting block, and the groom helped her up. He led the way out onto the road. She did not look back.

  John trotted ahead, leaving Maddy free to examine the discordant thoughts spinning through her mind. Robert is alive. She should be rejoicing, but instead she could only shake her head over it. The way in which he’d saved his life, by sacrificing another man’s, was repugnant to her and told her he hadn’t changed. That the aftermath of Northumberland’s fiasco had taught him nothing. Why hadn’t Robbie simply gone into hiding, as countless others had, when he realized the queen’s justice would be swift and merciless? Instead, he sent some poor soul to his death. As it turned out, Robert must have had to secret himself anyway, since the entire village had seen him swing and thought him dead. Maddy hadn’t asked Nicholas, but maybe her brother had remained in hiding until the pardons were issued. Afterward, others would have been making themselves known, too.

  He should have realized that pardons would one day be possible. Once a fool, always a fool. She did not relish the idea of going home to live with Robert, Kat, and their children in the same house as Kat’s parents. If only they could get their land back. Maddy could perhaps live in one of the tenant’s cottages by herself. Sadly, she would not wish to be in Robert’s company for some time to come. There was a slim chance she could plead her case with the Council for the return of her family’s land. After all, she had spied for the queen and discovered much valuable information. Shouldn’t that count for something?

  In the aftermath of their dispute, Nicholas had mentioned nothing about the work she’d been doing for him and his father at Lanercost. Maddy was grateful for that, because she had no idea what she’d do if she stumbled across a significant bit of intelligence. Ignore it? Feign total disinterest? Even if she pretended otherwise, she was still invested in the outcome of all of this. Still drawn to deciphering the machinations of the Dacres. If a crisis arose, she would need to rely on her instincts to guide her. Given the situation between them, she hoped Nicholas and his father had no further expectations of her.

  One thing she knew for a certainty. Never again would she feel responsible for her brother’s actions. Or those of anyone else.

  All the way home, Maddy had been watching the setting sun. Now, while she rode under the gate and into the garth, day was easing into night. Dread welled up inside her. Tonight, bone weary and in very low spirits, she wished only to bathe and have a meal sent to her chamber. But she knew she would have to sup with the others; they would think it odd if she did not make an appearance.

  She entered the hall and approached the kitchen, the warm fragrance of roasting meat and something else, something sweet, floating toward her. Pleased that she’d not encountered Mistress Derby, she made haste up the stairs to her chamber. In a very short time, freshly washed and hair tidied, she hurried to the vicarage. The others were waiting for her in the drawing room, the two Dacres drinking wine, Musgrave quaffing ale.

  “My dear, sit, sit,” Lady Dacre said. She waved a hand, nearly spilling her drink. “Christopher, pour Madeleine some wine.” Maddy wondered if her mistress perhaps had imbibed too much.

  Dacre poured the burgundy liquid into her glass from a ewer. She thanked him and took a swallow. It was excellent, rich and warming.

  “How was your visit with your cousin today, mistress?” Dacre asked. He and Musgrave were standing, looming over her and Lady Dacre.

  None of them had ever asked her about what she did on market days, so the sudden interest seemed suspicious. “Satisfactory, thank you. I stopped by the market on my way back, which is why I was so late. Everybody was talking about the pardons for the rebels.” Maddy hadn’t intended to raise that subject, but neither did she want to talk about Nicholas.

  “We’ve heard the news,” Dacre said.

  Musgrave gave a mocking laugh. “The queen finally decided to show some mercy.”

  “Tell us about your relations, Madeleine,” Lady Dacre said. “What do they do?”

  Maddy sipped more wine to relieve her dry mouth. Never had she given any thought to what she might say if they asked about Nicholas. She racked her brain to recall what they’d talked about the day he’d brought her to the priory. “Do?”

  “Aye. Are they farmers? Do they own livestock? What is their livelihood?” asked Lady Dacre.

  “Nay, they are not farmers. They live in Brampton, in the town. My cousin, Nicholas, grows roses. They are quite beautiful; I’ll bring you a bouquet next week.” She was talking too fast.

  “And what about Francis Ryder?” Dacre asked.

  “I haven’t seen much of him. He’s from home quite often,” Maddy said, trying not to stammer. “On business, I suppose.”

  “But you do not know what that might be?”

  “I haven’t felt it was my place to inquire.” Hoping the wine would have a calming effect, Maddy finished what was left in her glass and set it down. Their sudden interest in Nicholas and his father was chilling.

  “It’s been rumored in the past that he was an agent of the queen,” Dacre went on. “What do you know about that?”

  Jesu.

  Hands shaking, she folded them in her lap and hoped they would not notice. Lacing her voice with skepticism, she said, “Nothing, sir. It’s never been mentioned, at least not in my hearing.” Impulsively, she decided to tell them about Daniel, just to turn the conversation. “Nicholas is a good man. He is raising his nephew, who was orphaned after the death of both his parents.”

  “How kind,” Lady Dacre said. In a few moments, they adjourned to the dining room and, praise God, nothing further was said about the Ryders.

  “Madam, will we continue our project?” Maddy asked.

  “I am afraid I shall be away for a time, Madeleine. I have some business to attend to.”

  “I see. When do you leave?”

  “Not for a few days yet, so we can continue with our work until then.”

  Maddy nodded. The visit to her daughter. If Nicholas was correct, the conspirators needed her in Carlisle when the plan to abduct Mary Stewart was put in motion. That was the true reason for her trip.

  Lady Dacre fell asleep in her chair after supper. The men had disappeared. Maddy summoned Edith, who roused their mistress and bundled her off to bed. Leaving the vicarage, she went in search of Mistress Derby, who was cleaning and polishing and putting away the last of the trenchers and serving pieces. Maddy had not yet spoken to her about Cath, and no doubt the cook was wondering why. She threw down her cleaning cloth and motioned her toward the worktable, where two stools stood. Without preamble she said, “You found Cath’s body.”

  Maddy nodded. “Aye.”

  “Tell me the truth about how she died.”

  Maddy related a shortened version of the sad tale. “Master Carleton, the justice of the peace, is investigating. When he questions us, we must answer truthfully, without making accusations.”

  The older woman didn’t speak but watched Maddy with a keen eye. “I talked to Thomas Vine about Cath,” Maddy said.

  “And what did that varlet have to say?”

  “He thought because Cath had been found in the river, she had drowned. He swears he didn’t kill her.”

  Mistress Derby’s chest puffed out like a robin’s breast in the cold. “The filthy liar!”

  “I thought so too, at first. You may not credit it, but I could have sworn he was telling the truth. It was in his expression, something around his eyes and mouth. A flicker of genuine sadness.”

  “Hmph.”

  “In the end, he claimed to know who’d done it. But he wouldn’t tell me. He said I should figure it out for myself.”


  “Because he’s the murderer! You know it as well as I, poor Cath was afraid of him.”

  Maddy listened patiently. Maybe if she’d been there and heard what Musgrave said, she wouldn’t be so determined to lay the guilt at his feet. Maddy had been the same way with Nicholas, unwilling to consider that while Musgrave may be a reiver, a thief, and a violator of women, those sins didn’t necessarily make him a murderer.

  And speaking of reivers…she hadn’t planned to, but it seemed an opportune moment to ask the cook what she knew about the raid. Musgrave had said he learned what happened from the servants. It would be wise to proceed carefully, though. While Mistress Derby now considered her a friend, Maddy was all but certain she would be loyal to the Dacres over her.

  “Mistress, you were not here the night of the raid, were you?”

  The cook’s gaze dropped down to the table. She picked up her cleaning cloth and rubbed it across a spot that looked like it was etched into the rough wood. “Nay, I was not.”

  Maddy had always thought it strange that she’d gone off somewhere after supper that night, when darkness had already fallen. “Where did you go?”

  “Not that it’s any of your affair, but I went to Brampton to visit my sister and her husband. He’s been ailing, and I’d been putting it off. Lady Dacre prepared some remedies for him in the stillroom.”

  “So late in the day seems a strange time to venture out.”

  Mistress Derby made no response to that but jumped off her stool and began to wipe down the table with long, vigorous strokes, still not looking at Maddy. She could press her, but that would only make her angry. She’d learn nothing more from her tonight.

  Maddy slid off the stool and shook out her skirts. “Good even, mistress,” she said, making her way toward the stairs.

  “Wait!” the cook called.

  Maddy stopped but did not turn around. Perhaps whatever she had to say would come easier that way.

  “Lady Dacre told me earlier that day it would be best if I took myself off after supper. And if you ever say I told you so, I’ll swear you’re a liar.”

 

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