“Adrian, I said the truth.”
“Oh, all right,” he looked at me sheepishly. “I’m the one with a mad crush on Ralph Fiennes. It’s really embarrassing.”
I made to pick up my purse and get ready to leave.
“All right, all right. I just really wanted to see you, and I hoped you would take pity on me and come to the theater tonight.”
I sat back down. “And gran?”
“Gran was on standby the whole time in case you refused, but I’m very glad you didn’t and I am sure so is she. She really does prefer telly to live theater.”
I took a sip of my wine. I wasn’t sure how to feel about Adrian’s confession. I had to admit I was flattered by his desire to see me, but was I reading too much into it? This was the second time he’d lured me out, and it felt suspiciously like a date. I’d made it clear to him before that I was involved, but some men took no notice of minor inconveniences like a boyfriend. It was just another obstacle that added to the thrill of the chase. I could feel his eyes on me as I looked at the menu, warm and admiring. I knew he found me attractive, and if I was honest with myself, I found him attractive too. There was a certain edge to him I didn’t find in most of the men I knew. It might’ve been the fact that he’d spent a decade in places torn by conflict and war, but there was a ruggedness beneath his urban veneer, and I suddenly wondered exactly what he was capable of. He was witty and flirtatious, but I’d seen a different side of him earlier, and I wondered which was the real Adrian.
We had a pleasant meal discussing the play, then moving on to politics and our favorite books and movies. Adrian seemed very happy and relaxed, and I realized that I felt comfortable in his company. Whatever his intentions were, he was being the perfect gentleman. After all, a man and a woman should be able to spend an evening together without it being a date. Shouldn’t they? I wondered if there was a woman in the picture, but he hadn’t mentioned anyone and I didn’t dare ask.
By the time we left “The Bistro” it was well past midnight and Adrian hailed a taxi, giving the driver my address. I could feel his thigh brushing against mine in the close confines of the cab as several shameful thoughts surfaced in my mind before I sternly told them to go away. The driver pulled up and Adrian got out first, opening the door for me. He instructed the driver to wait and walked me up the path to my door. This was the awkward part. I fumbled for my keys while Adrian waited patiently.
“Well, thank you for a lovely evening, Adrian. Tell your gran that Mr. Fiennes was in fine form tonight. “
I expected him to say something polite and appropriate, but Adrian bent down and kissed me. The kiss wasn’t passionate. It was tender and sweet, and I still tasted his lips on mine as he walked toward the waiting cab and disappeared into the night.
“Maddening man!” I mumbled as I let myself into the silent house.
Chapter 25
June 1586
Constance was in the kitchen slicing turnips to add to her stew. It was late afternoon and the spring sunshine sent shafts of light through the diamond-paned window, dappling the floor with sunlight. Connie was humming a tune she had heard at the May Day celebration at Whitehall Palace, as she checked on the loaves of bread rising in the oven. It had been written to honor the Queen, and she recalled Her Majesty gaily singing along with the players.
Ride a cock horse to Banbury Cross
To see a fine lady upon a white horse
With rings on her fingers and bells on her toes
She shall have music wherever she goes
Tom would be home soon and he would be hungry. He would most likely eat and change into clean clothes before going to see Jane. Her parents approved of their plans to marry, but he would still have to formally ask her father for his consent. Once they married, Jane would move into the house on Carter Lane, and she would be the lady of the house, putting Constance in the position of the spinster sister-in-law, but she didn’t mind. She liked Jane enormously and knew they would get on together. Tom and Jane would move into her parents’ bedroom and leave Tom’s old room for future offspring. The idea of children made Connie a little sad. She desperately wanted to have a baby of her own, and probably would have had one had she married Henry. She hoped that she would not remain a spinster forever.
A loud banging on the front door brought her out of her reverie, and she ran to see who it was. Jane was on the doorstep looking disheveled and frightened to death. She ran into the hall and slammed the door behind her before trying to catch her breath.
“Oh, Connie. I ran all the way. It’s horrible. There were so many of them.” She was babbling, so Connie sat her down on the window seat and took her by the shoulders.
“Jane, what happened?”
Jane took a deep breath to calm herself and some of the color began to return to her face, her eyes filling with tears as she began her story. “Tom and I quarreled yesterday. I told him that I was tired of waiting and wanted to be wed by June. He was very upset because he felt he can’t take on a wife while he has two unmarried sisters. I didn’t really mean what I said. I would have waited for him forever, but he took it to heart and came to our house directly after work. He spoke to my father and got his consent for us to marry. We were so happy that we decided to go see Father Francis at the Hortons to ask him to perform the ceremony.
We got there safely, and Tom was just talking to Father Francis when there was loud banging on the door, and all these men came pouring into the house. They treated Mrs. Horton very roughly indeed and pushed her out of the way while they seized the priest, Mr. Horton and Tom, and beat them cruelly. The man in charge ordered them taken away, and they dragged them out of the door and into waiting carriages. I have no idea where they took them, Connie, but I thought that you were our only hope. You can go see Mr. Carlisle and he will set everything to rights, won’t he?”
Jane looked so desperate that Constance didn’t have the heart to tell her Richard could probably do very little, especially for Father Francis. Tom, on the other hand was a completely different matter. “Jane, who was the man in charge?”
“Edward Norris,” Jane whispered and started crying.
Constance told Jane to go home, then threw on her cloak, covering her face. She ran all the way to Cheapside, stumbling several times and nearly getting run over by a passing wagon. She had never been to Richard’s house, but she knew where he lived and prayed he would be at home when she got there. She was out of breath by the time she found the house and lifted the brass knocker, banging on the door. A plump servant opened the door, ushering her inside.
“He is in the study, Mistress,” the woman said, pointing the way.
Constance knocked and pushed open the door. Richard was sitting in front of a large desk covered with books and papers, showing something on the globe to a young boy of about five. They were so absorbed in what they were looking at, that he didn’t notice her standing there at first, then jumped up from his chair nearly knocking over the boy and the globe. “Run along, William, I must speak with Mistress Thorne.”
As the boy ran past her, she noticed that he had light hair and blue eyes, just like Richard. Did Richard have a son? He mentioned that he had been married a long time ago, but he never mentioned any children. She mentally berated herself for getting distracted, and closed the door to the study facing Richard over the desk.
“Richard, Tom has been arrested. He went with Jane to Mr. Horton’s house to see the priest about their wedding ceremony. According to Jane, several men arrived while they were closeted together, beat them, and dragged them from the house. She said the man in charge was Edward Norris. Oh, Richard, you have to help Tom. He hasn’t done anything wrong. He just wanted to finally get married. What will happen to him?” Connie knew she sounded hysterical, but the thought of losing her brother was more than she could bear.
Richard listened to her calmly, stroking his goatee as he assessed the situation.
“Constance, I very much doubt that I can do anything for
the Jesuit or Mr. Horton. He was found to be hiding a priest in his household, which is against the law. Norris was within his rights. Your brother, on the other hand, was just visiting the house and happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time. I will find out where they are holding him and try to at least get him a fair trial if I can’t get him released.” As Richard stopped talking, he realized he was only wearing a shirt and breeches in the presence of a lady, and asked Constance to wait while he went to dress.
“I will take you home. Please stay inside and don’t go anywhere, and for God’s sake don’t open the door to anyone. I will come as soon as I can. I promise.”
They rode back to Blackfriars in silence, Richard holding Connie’s cold hand in his. As the carriage drew closer to the house, Richard turned to Constance, “I will do everything in my power. You have my word.” With that he walked her to her door and waited until she was safely inside.
Chapter 26
Richard got back into the carriage and slammed the door behind him. He had to figure out the best way to approach the situation without making things worse for Thomas Thorne. Confronting Norris was probably the worst thing he could do, since he would be showing his hand and putting himself at Norris’s mercy. He would never let Tom go if he thought for a minute that something could be gained by keeping him imprisoned.
Finding Tom on his own and breaking him out of wherever he was held would be foolhardy. He would just be re-arrested as soon as he was found, and probably accused of something much worse in the bargain, not to mention Richard would now be complicit as well. “Terrible idea,” he muttered to himself. His only viable option was to go see Walsingham. He knew that pleading for Tom’s freedom would compromise his position with the Secretary, but he couldn’t let Constance down. He would do absolutely anything to help her, even if it meant putting himself at risk. She came to him for help and that was progress. At least she was giving him a chance to prove himself, and he wasn’t letting it slip away.
Richard had to admit that he genuinely liked Tom, and didn’t think the poor lad should be in prison. All he wanted was to get married by a priest, hardly a crime. He sighed. He was amazed at what people who believed in the same God were willing to do to each other to prove their way was better than theirs. Richard instructed John to drive to Walsingham’s house. It was safer to talk to him there than at Court, and as far as Richard knew he was at home tonight.
The Secretary was at supper with his family when Richard arrived, and he was shown into a well-appointed library where he could wait. Richard tried to sit down, but ended up pacing back and forth until the door finally opened and Walsingham walked in.
“You must really love her, my boy,” Walsingham said as he settled into a comfortable chair by the fireplace, “a terrible liability for a spy.”
“You’ve heard.”
“I have. Norris was exceedingly proud of himself, and came running over here to tell me of his triumph. He was within his rights, you know.” Walsingham was watching Richard, his expression inscrutable, but Richard knew he had to go on.
“The boy is innocent. He just went there to discuss a wedding ceremony. Is it a crime in our great nation to be married by a priest?”
“It is if the priest in question is a Jesuit who is being hidden in the home of a prominent merchan, who poses as a Protestant in front of the rest of the world. Bad luck for the kid.” Walsingham continued to watch Richard, a sly smile playing on his lips. Richard knew he was toying with him and tried to keep his composure. Losing his temper would be the worst thing he could do.
“Is there anything I can do to help him?” asked Richard, feeling desperate.
“Don’t you mean her?”
Richard nodded in defeat. “Yes, I want to help her.”
“All right, Richard. I’ll do this for you, but not because I am doing you a favor. I believe the boy is innocent and I see no reason to let Norris torture him to death. I will give you a warrant for his release and deal with Norris in the morning. I will keep your name out of it. I don’t need the two of you snarling at each other like mad dogs. I don’t know where they took him, so you will have to find him by morning. I hope you have a lot of coin with you.”
Walsingham sat down at a small desk by the window and penned a letter of release, which he signed and marked with his seal. Richard felt a great relief as he put away the scroll and thanked his boss profusely. Now all he had to do was find Tom in a huge city full of prisons.
Chapter 27
Richard spent the whole night scouring the city. He started with the Tower, which was the most logical choice. The guard informed him that Tom wasn’t there after pocketing the bribe. He did, however, tell Richard that the priest and Horton were being held there by Norris. Why would he separate the prisoners? It didn’t make sense. On the other hand, if Tom was not at the Tower, he probably had not been tortured and was still in relatively good shape, whereas the priest and the merchant were not as lucky. Richard left the Tower and began his search. He visited the Fleet, Marshalsea and Battersea prisons by the time the first light of dawn was appearing on the horizon, but there was no sign of Tom. Richard was running low on bribe money, and his clothes reeked of human waste, rat shit, and spilled ale.
The turnkeys took his money to let him in, and told him that Tom wasn’t there, but Richard wasn’t leaving until he was certain. Norris could have paid them to lie, and he was leaving no stone unturned, or in this case, no chamber pot. His head was beginning to itch and he hoped he hadn’t picked up lice as he went through the prisons. All the prisoners had lice, and used the dirty straw in the cells to piss and defecate on, turning the prisons into a living, breathing dung heap.
By the time Richard pulled up to Newgate, the sun was beginning to rise in the sky, and he took a last breath of fresh air before knocking on the door and entering the dark, reeking prison. The turnkey was a beefy man in his thirties, bald with only two teeth left in his mouth. He bit down on the coin with his remaining teeth before allowing Richard access and going back to his ale completely oblivious to the suffocating smell or the screams of the prisoners. Richard searched for an hour until he finally saw a familiar shape huddled in the corner of a dank cell. Tom was sitting with his arms around his legs, his head resting on his knees. His clothes were stained with blood and worse, and his face had been beaten severely. Richard stepped over the scurrying rats in the cell and crouched down next to Thomas. Tom didn’t bother to look up, so he gently took him by the shoulder.
“Tom, its Richard.” Tom slowly raised his head trying to focus on Richard’s face.
“Have you come to torture me?” He seemed resigned to his fate and Richard felt pity for the poor boy. He looked so young just sitting there.
“I am here to get you out. Walsingham gave me a letter of release. Come with me. Can you walk?” He helped Tom rise to his feet and led him out of the cell and toward the exit of the prison. Tom was shaky, but he was walking on his own, holding a hand to his ribs. He winced with every step, but didn’t complain. They both gulped in lungfuls of fresh, morning air as they stepped outside. John was already waiting outside and Richard helped Tom into the carriage. The boy looked even worse in the light. Norris certainly didn’t waste any time in having him beaten. Getting him out of prison was just the beginning. This wouldn’t be the end of it. Richard wouldn’t be able to do anything if this happened again and he needed to know that he could protect Constance. He had made up his mind by the time they reached the house in Carter Lane.
Constance looked exhausted as she opened the door, with her hair falling out of her cap, and shadows under her tired eyes. She gasped as she saw Tom, but didn’t make a scene, just helped lead him inside and got him water to wash with. Tom was swaying with pain and fatigue, but he allowed Connie to clean his face before going up to his room to change out of his reeking clothes and go to bed. Connie helped Tom upstairs, then closed the door softly and went downstairs to join Richard. He was standing by the window looking like
he needed a bath and a bed almost as much as Tom.
“Won’t you sit down, Richard?” Connie asked as she came into the room.
“I would dearly love to, but I don’t wish to soil your furniture. These clothes will need to be burned.” He made a face at the state of his coat and doublet and glanced down at his hose, which were splattered with God knows what.
“Richard, I cannot thank you enough. You have saved my brother’s life. If there is anything I can do to repay you…”
“Actually, there is.” Richard took a deep breath and plunged in. “Marry me.”
Chapter 28
Edward Norris looked with disgust at Matthew, who was sitting on the floor in the corner and sobbing while wiping blood off his split lip and nose. Matthew looked up at Norris with undisguised fear and huddled further into the corner, hoping to lose himself in the shadows.
“Stop whimpering and get out of my sight,” said Norris as he resumed his pacing around his bedchamber. Matthew didn’t need to be told twice and scrambled to his feet running for the door. Norris was still furious, although his rage was beginning to abate. Maybe he shouldn’t have hit the boy, but he needed to take it out on someone, and Matthew was to hand. Just a few short hours ago, Edward was basking in the glory of Walsingham’s praise. He rounded up the Jesuit, the merchant and Thorne to boot, getting three where he only expected one. His men had been watching Horton for some weeks now and Norris was convinced he was involved in some plot. He didn’t actually expect to find the priest hiding at his house, but it was a welcome bonus. Where there was one priest, there were usually more and a few rounds on the rack would reveal their whereabouts.
Horton would talk too. He would name names of other prominent Catholics who were harboring Jesuits and plotting against Queen and country. Norris was very pleased with himself indeed, until he got a scribbled note from the turnkey at Newgate where he had stashed Thorne. The turnkey was a brainless sack of dung, but he had enough brains to find someone who could write, and sent round a boy informing Norris that his prisoner has been released on the authority of Frances Walsingham, and spirited away by no other than Richard Carlisle.
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