Keeper of the King’s Secrets

by Michelle Diener

  This was not the time and place to speak with the King, but now was all she had. The thought of postponing her audience made her sick.

  She could not wait.

  “It is strange to see you about, my lady, without Parker scowling like a fierce hawk at your shoulder.” The words were spoken lightly, with humor, and a hand touched her arm.

  Susanna turned, and at the sight of Will Somers her panic lifted a little. The Fool was dressed all in black tonight, and her image of him as a quick-witted and humorous Death was made all the stronger.

  She opened her mouth and then closed it again. Somers may be kind and wish her well, but anything she said was fair game to the King’s fool. There would be no keeping Parker’s disappearance a secret if he knew of it.

  She frowned, weighing the benefits and drawbacks of Parker’s disappearance remaining a secret.

  “I think you have decided the fate of mankind and put to rest the secrets of alchemy in these few short moments, my lady. Never have I seen a brain working so fast.”

  “My pardon.” Susanna lowered her eyes and hoped she looked suitably demure. But when she lifted her head, Will Somers was watching her, his head tilted to the side.

  “What is afoot, my lady?”

  She shook her head, a twinge of regret in the movement. There was something about Somers that made her want to trust him, but not enough to risk Parker.

  “I need to speak with the King, and did not realize he would be occupied this evening.”

  A laugh rolled out from the center of the room, and Susanna stilled. The King was surrounded by men in fine velvet doublets, all taking care not to crowd him too much.

  Susanna set her shoulders back and started forward. With one long stride, Somers grabbed her shoulder and held her back.

  “You’ll do more harm than good to approach him tonight. He is in a vicious mood. There is no news yet from the Emperor on a war with France, and he is impatient to move ahead.”

  The King laughed again, and Susanna raised an eyebrow at Somers.

  “He laughs, but darkness lies no deeper than the scratch of a fingernail beneath the surface. Before the dinner began, he sent Wolsey scurrying away when he tried to come forward with another complaint about Parker. It is the first time I’ve seen the King lose his temper with the Cardinal.”

  Susanna gripped Somers’s long black sleeve. “What did Wolsey say about Parker?”

  Somers shrugged. “Barely anything before the King went red in the face. A line about Parker conspiring with the French.”

  Rage flashed through Susanna like a lightning strike. Every sense was alive and burning, her body ready for battle. If Wolsey had been nearby, she would have thrown the knife that was up her sleeve straight for his eye.

  Somers stepped back. “You are no friend of the Cardinal tonight either, I see.” For the first time, there was a hint of uncertainty in his eyes.

  She drew in her breath between clenched teeth. “I am no friend of his ever.”

  She turned. If Somers was right, she would not approach the King tonight. But now she knew where she could go. Wolsey’s complaints held the smack of preparation, of setting up Parker as a scapegoat.

  And scapegoats were kept tethered to a pole, safely chained as they awaited their fate.

  “Where are you going, my lady?” Somers’s soft call made her look over her shoulder.

  “To find a pole.”

  26

  A wise prince ought to observe some such rules, and never in peaceful times stand idle, but increase his resources with industry in such a way that they may be available to him in adversity, so that if fortune chances it may find him prepared to resist her blows.

  —Machiavelli, The Prince, chapter 14

  Before she reached the door, a hand fell on her shoulder in a strong grip. A tight-knit group of Frenchmen closed in around her, shielding her from the rest of the room.

  Susanna glared at the man holding her. She was tired of being manhandled. “You move quickly, Monsieur le Comte.” She tugged and he released her with a little dip of his head.

  “No faster than you, madame. You wasted no time coming to the King.” The men around them were pretending not to listen, and he took her arm again to steer her to a little alcove in a private corner.

  “I know you have heard of the argument between Wolsey and the King. In fact, I know to the precise moment when you did hear it. I saw your face,” he said.

  “That must have been a blow to your plans.” She had damped down the rage she felt at Wolsey, but now it came roaring back to life. “Did you think somehow Wolsey’s accusations wouldn’t reach my ears?”

  “We are not behind this.” The Comte slammed his fist into his open palm. “Madame, on my life, we did not lie to you tonight. We do not know where your betrothed is.”

  “Then you must at least be pleased with what has happened tonight. Wolsey intends to give you the jewel, if he’s trying to lay blame on Parker in advance. Otherwise all he needs do is to return the jewel to its place.”

  The Comte started, suddenly alert. “You do not know. Wolsey has told us very clearly he will not give us the Mirror of Naples.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he does not know where it is.”

  Susanna did not move. “How can that be?”

  The Comte shrugged. “Because Jens of Antwerp panicked. That is the only explanation. I don’t think Wolsey told him exactly what he would be doing when he got to London.”

  “And when he realized what it really was, he went a little … mad.” That would explain a great deal.

  The Comte nodded. “When Jens fell out with Wolsey, the Cardinal denied him access to the palace. That is when Jens began running around London, approaching friends for a way out of the country.”

  “Jean killed him.” She wanted to wash her skin where the Comte had touched her; there was too much blood on his hands.

  The Comte looked down his aquiline nose at her. “I understand your distrust of us. But we are willing to help you get what you want, if you help us get what we want.”

  “You ask a great deal.”

  He shrugged. “I have no choice. And you have no betrothed.”

  “You know where the Mirror is? You seem so sure I can get it for you.”

  “I have a good idea.”

  “But you do not know where Parker is. Why shouldn’t I simply look without you?”

  “Because Wolsey is a powerful man, and if he wants your betrothed hidden, hidden he will be. I have spies all through this city, men who hear many things. We have a better chance of finding him than you do.”

  Susanna took a step back. “I will think on it a little longer. The stakes are very high to gamble on the strength of your guess.”

  “Certainly.” The Comte gave a stiff bow; frustration and impatience shimmered off him with every jerky movement.

  She dipped a curtsy and slipped through the crowd to the door.

  Just as she stepped out, she felt the weight of a gaze on her and turned.

  Norfolk stood in the middle of the room, watching her. The look in his eyes was not comforting.

  The door swung shut behind her, and Susanna resisted the urge to lean back against it in relief to be out of the room.

  She stepped forward, and found her way blocked by a young woman. She looked exotic, with a slight tilt to her dark eyes and thick, dark hair. She clasped her hands nervously before her.

  Susanna remembered her face from the time she’d spent in the Queen’s chambers more than a month ago.

  “My lady. The Queen wishes an audience.”

  Susanna’s heart squeezed painfully in her chest. She already suspected the Queen had no love for her, and she would have even less if Susanna refused a direct summons.

  “I am honored, my lady. But I have an urgent matter—”

  “Please.” The woman’s eyes darted left and right, and she stepped closer, placed a hand on Susanna’s arm. “I am Gertrude Courtenay, Henry Courtena
y’s wife.” She drew Susanna across to the shadows on the other side of the passageway.

  A flicker of surprise went through Susanna. Henry Courtenay was one of the four men she and Parker had saved from being named as conspirators against the Crown in February.

  “I know what my husband and I owe you. I am one of the Queen’s favorites. My mother is Spanish and my father is the Queen’s chamberlain. My aunt is one of the Queen’s closest friends. She came over to England with the Queen when she was first married to the King’s brother. I have some influence and I will use it to your benefit, but please, come.”

  “I thank you for that.” Susanna hesitated, then took a small risk. “I truly would be honored to attend the Queen, but I find myself in a situation as bad as your husband was in last month. If I do not hurry, the ending will not be so happy for me.”

  Gertrude stiffened, and her fingers dug in to Susanna’s arm. “I see. May I ask if there is any help I can give you in this?”

  Susanna shook her head.

  “Does this involve the Cardinal Wolsey?”

  Susanna grabbed her, held her close. “Why do you ask that?”

  “Because it is all over the court that not an hour ago, the King and Wolsey exchanged heated words over your betrothed. Usually the Cardinal only comes to court on Sundays, but since the King’s mishap in the country, he has remained at Bridewell. That in itself is worthy of note. But never before has the King lost his temper with Wolsey so openly.”

  Susanna nodded. “Wolsey is involved.”

  “Then you should come with me. But say nothing of this in the general hearing of the ladies. The Cardinal has spies among the women.”

  Susanna resisted Gertrude’s tug on her sleeve. “Are you sure this will help me more than confronting Wolsey directly?”

  Gertrude laughed without any trace of mirth. “Unless you have a weapon to hand, yes.”

  Susanna stared at her, not looking away, and Gertrude cleared her throat. “Even if you have a weapon, my way will surely be the better one, I swear. I mean to repay the debt I have to you for my husband’s life, and for the well-being of my family. I have a way for you to get the better of the Cardinal.”

  Susanna allowed herself to be pulled down the passage, away from the Cardinal’s rooms.

  She only hoped it was the right way to go.

  27

  When princes have thought more of ease than of arms they have lost their states.

  —Machiavelli, The Prince, chapter 14

  The Queen’s chambers were less sumptuous than the King’s, but Susanna knew it was from the Queen’s preference, rather than any lack of funds from her husband.

  The antechamber was not so full as the last time Susanna had entered it, and she assumed many of the ladies were below at the reception, attending their husbands or fathers.

  As soon as she stepped into the chamber, Gertrude’s manner became cooler, more distant. “Please wait a moment while I see if the Queen will receive you now.”

  Susanna curtsied low. She did not doubt Wolsey had spies here. Norfolk must have some, too, although he preferred servants rather than nobility to act as his eyes and ears. They could be paid with money, rather than favors.

  Gertrude slipped into the Queen’s chamber and Susanna kept her eyes on the door, her hands clenched as tight as her stomach.

  “Mistress Horenbout.”

  The woman who approached her looked sharp and hard. She wore fine clothes, but there was a musty smell of sweat about her. Susanna did not recognize her from her last visit to the Queen’s chambers.

  “’Tis late for the Queen to need the services of the King’s painter.” Her words were bright and brittle.

  “How lucky, then, that I was in attendance.” Susanna smiled, sweet as a lemon tart. “You have the better of me, my lady. You know my name, but I do not know yours.”

  “I am Jane Stafford. I have heard much about you, my lady. And I am curious, what commission has the Queen for you? I look forward to seeing it.”

  “A portrait of the Princess Mary,” Susanna lied. “So when the princess is away from court, in the good air of the country, the Queen may look on it and be comforted.”

  “How delightful.” Jane’s words seemed to stick in her throat, thick and choking. It seemed she believed Susanna’s lie.

  She had clearly been hoping for something else. Something she could take back to Norfolk or Wolsey—whoever’s pay she was in.

  “The Queen will see you now.” Gertrude stood in the doorway, the door open just enough to let her through, as if shielding the occupants of the room from view. Her gaze went to Jane Stafford and her lips pursed in a thin line.

  “My lady.” Susanna dipped her head in farewell and walked toward Gertrude.

  “What did she want?” Gertrude whispered as she stood back to let Susanna enter.

  “To know why I was here.”

  Gertrude shot another look at Jane, but she had turned away and was talking with a small group of women. Gertrude pulled the door closed, shutting them out. “What did you tell her?”

  “I said the Queen has commissioned me to paint a small picture of the Princess to keep beside her and give her comfort while the Princess is away.”

  “That is a good idea.”

  Susanna looked up, surprised, to see the Queen and one other woman only in the large chamber. They were seated by a fire and it was the Queen who had spoken.

  “Your Majesty.” She curtsied low.

  “Despite what we are really discussing here, Mistress Horenbout, I find the idea of a small painting of my daughter most delightful. You will paint it.”

  “Of course.” Susanna curtsied low again.

  “Now, what has the Cardinal put his meddling fingers into this time?”

  The Queen was short, her shoulders round and plump. The woman with her was beautiful, a Spanish lady from the parting in her dark hair, to the tips of her wide, pink-lined sleeves.

  “This is my aunt, Maria.” Gertrude went to stand beside her aunt’s chair, and Susanna could see the resemblance. “She is visiting the Queen for a few weeks.”

  Susanna curtsied again. “My lady.”

  It was clear these three were a close-knit group. Susanna felt fortunate to be owed a favor by Gertrude Courtenay; there was no question she was being privileged with this audience.

  “I wanted to warn you tonight that Wolsey seems determined to cast John Parker in the worst possible light, but Gertrude tells me you are aware of it.” Katherine watched her with eyes filled with intelligence.

  “I think Wolsey has done worse than try to tarnish Parker’s name, Your Majesty. I believe he has injured him and taken him somewhere. That somewhere, he is locked in a room, if he has not already been …” Susanna stopped, appalled at the way her voice was thickening, the way her breath was rasping in her throat. Her eyes seemed determined to shed the tears she had forbidden them to shed.

  She closed them, tipped her head up, and forced herself to breathe deep. “My pardon.”

  “There have been many times I have felt just as you do now.” Katherine’s voice was low, and Susanna could hear a depth to it, of sorrow and of steel. “Wolsey even now plots to push my daughter aside and raise up my husband’s bastard son in her place. There is very little I believe he would not do, and if it suited him to falsely accuse Parker, to keep him out of the way while he lays his traps, I have no doubt that is what he would do.”

  “I need to know what I can do.” Tears leaked from the corners of Susanna’s eyes and she rubbed them away with the backs of her hands. “I had thought to confront him—”

  “Bah.” Katherine chopped the air with a sharp hand. “That will accomplish nothing more than alerting him to what you know. There are other ways.”

  Susanna wanted to believe her. If it was possible to save Parker without relying on the Comte and Jean, that would be the best possible outcome.

  “I used to have women spies in his household.” Katherine watched her as she
spoke, and Susanna realized the Queen must have told very few people that she had spies at all. She gave a little nod, to indicate approval and that she was ready to hear more.

  “They have all been dismissed. Someone in my chambers either heard me talking of them, or read my private accounts and found the entries of their payment. But before they were sent away, I did learn something that may be of interest to you.”

  Susanna’s heart gave a little skip.

  “When Wolsey wants someone out of the way, someone whose actions or comments are inconvenient or who poses a threat to him, he has them sent to Fleet Prison. Many nobles have been sent to the Fleet by the Star Chamber or another court, but Wolsey has taken to sending people there with no due process whatsoever.”

  “How do those people get out?” Susanna clenched her hands to stop them trembling.

  “When Wolsey has manufactured enough evidence against them he makes their stay more official, or if they are no longer a threat, he releases them.”

  “Parker will never cease to be a threat to the Cardinal.” She felt as if she were standing in some high place, where her words were snatched from her mouth as she uttered them.

  “Indeed.” The look Katherine gave her was pitying.

  “There is a way into the Fleet that is not through the front gates.” Gertrude stepped away from her aunt and reached for Susanna’s hand. “The Queen’s spies discovered Wolsey uses a tunnel from St. Sepulchre’s Church to sneak the prisoners in. So there is no official record of them being admitted.”

  The Queen leaned forward, intense. “My spies in Wolsey’s house heard about it one day in the kitchens. Wolsey employs two men to grab his enemies and drag them blindfolded to the Fleet through the tunnels. That way no one can report where they were held or point a finger back at him if he decides to release them.”

  “There is another tunnel between St. Sepulchre’s and Newgate Prison.” Gertrude released her hand, and Susanna felt the loss of warmth. “The priests use it to walk to Newgate and ring their Execution Bell at midnight on the day someone is to be condemned to death.”