by Kris Tualla
Avery’s respect jumped another notch. “So he declared his undying love before you took him to bed?”
“Of course.” Anne leaned forward. “I was not so foolish as to gamble my entire life away before I knew I had the right cards in my favor.”
Avery stared at Catherine. “What do you make of our determined young friend?”
“I must confess that she has orchestrated her circumstances more effectively than many experienced women I know.”
“And Percy is truly smitten,” Avery admitted. “I have never seen him happier.”
Catherine turned her regard to Anne. “I like you. Please visit me more often once you are married.”
Anne looked suddenly shy again. “Thank you, Your Grace. I would be pleased to do so.”
“I do have one question, though.” Avery pinned Anne’s gaze. “Percy is certain you will bear a son. What happens if you present him with a daughter?”
“I will not.”
Catherine scowled at the girl. “There is no way to be certain. I, of all people, know that well.”
Anne dipped her chin. “I mean no disrespect, Your Grace. But a son is what I planned. The babe does not dare to come out unequipped.”
§ § §
“She said that?” Jakob roared his laughter. “Catherine must have wanted to rip her head off!”
“I wanted to rip her head off!” Avery waited while Emily tied her underskirts over her panier. “And yet in spite of that horrific misstep, the girl is completely engaging.”
Jakob looked askance at her. “Truly?”
Avery dove under her overskirt and came out through the narrowed waist. “Truly. Did Percy tell you she decided to marry him when she was only twelve?”
Jakob wagged his head. “He said that she claimed to have met him years ago, but he did not recall it.”
Emily tied the skirt’s waist snuggly and slipped the matching bodice over Avery’s head. “As it turns out, what I said about her being the one who chose him is true.”
Jakob pointed a finger at her. “The question is, does she love him the way he believes she does.”
“More, I think.” Avery drew a deep breath while Emily tied the lacings on her bodice, assuring herself the ability to breathe adequately that evening. “She has devoted her life to becoming his wife.”
Jakob stood and looked at his reflection in the tall silvered glass in their large bedchamber. “Do I need to change my tunic?”
“What did you do today?” Avery countered.
“I trained with the squires. But I took it off so it would not become soiled.”
Avery leaned close and sniffed. She wrinkled her nose and stepped away from him. “The tunic is fine, but I believe you should change your shirt.”
Jakob nodded and opened the door. “Askel! Come give me a hand.”
§ § §
Every night that Henry or Catherine was in residence, dinner was served promptly at eight o’clock in the Tower’s formal dining room. Jakob and Avery entered the room with Bergdis in tow, in spite of the older woman’s objections.
“I do not have the appropriate gowns,” she told Jakob. “And I cannot converse with anyone in any case.”
“Only this one time, Mamma. Let me show you off.” Jakob looped one arm around her shoulders and kissed her forehead. “After tonight, you can dine here with Emily and Askel if you prefer.”
Now he watched her face as the magnificence of Henry’s court overwhelmed her. Her eyes were round as saucers and never stopped moving as she took in the visual explosion of fine portraits, expensive fabrics and lace, rich foods on pewter platters, decanters of wine, and crockery pitchers of beer.
“I could never have believed this if I did not see it,” she murmured. “You could have tried to tell me and I would have said you were dreaming of Heaven.”
Jakob chuckled and leaned down to whisper in her ear. “Let us all hope that Heaven is a less fraught place than living under Henry’s capricious moods.”
Avery let Bergdis sit between herself and Jakob so his mother would never be left out of their conversation, but she leaned over to speak past her to him. “Percival has brought Anne to dinner at last.”
Jakob’s gaze moved over the crowd until he found his friend. “Now that Catherine has approved of her, he can bring her into their presence I suppose.”
“Has Henry met her?”
“I am not certain. But her father has, and Henry would know of her lineage before granting Percy permission to marry her.”
Jakob faced his mother and explained their conversation. Bergdis craned her neck to see the couple in question.
Someone clapped him on the shoulder.
Jakob turned around and looked up into Charles Brandon’s eyes. The Duke of Suffolk was Henry’s one true friend, a man who could press Henry harder than any other man alive. Even so, Brandon was cautious around the King, never pressing too hard.
The Duke’s eyes rested on Bergdis. “Who is this enchanting creature, Hansen?”
Jakob rose to his feet. “May I present my mother, the Lady Bergdis Hansen of Hansen Hall in Arendal, Norway.” He cleared his throat. “She does not have any English, in case you are wondering why she did not react to your kind words.”
Bergdis smiled up at the handsome duke and lifted her hand.
Brandon took it and pressed his lips to her skin. Then he winked at her. Bergdis blushed furiously and actually giggled.
Brandon straightened. “I see the family resemblance clearly, Hansen. Tell your mother you can thank her for your good looks.”
“I will, Your Grace.” Jakob bowed his head. “Thank you.”
Bergdis leaned close to Jakob and whispered in his ear. “I am so glad I came. If only your brothers could see you now.”
Chapter Six
February 13, 1520
Avery boarded the Albergar to meet with the captain. Jakob wanted to come with her, but she said no.
“Askel can escort me to and from the dock if you are worried for my safety,” she conceded. “But I control that captain’s employment, and I cannot have my position undermined by looking as though I require my husband’s presence in order to conduct my business.”
Jakob reluctantly agreed to her logic, charging Askel to watch over her or lose his life by failing.
“Y—yes, my lord.” Askel swallowed and faced Avery. “I beg you, my lady, have a care for me.”
Avery shook her head. “Jakob is not going to kill anyone. And I am not going to do anything foolish.”
Now she was being led to the captain’s cabin in the front of the ship and tucked under the main deck. She carried a ledger with her, updated each time her business partner sent her a copy of his accounting. Gustavo Salazar was required to show his balance sheets to her Barcelona accountant every three months since she left Spain and send her a copy as well.
Their agreement was for Gustavo to pay her sixty-five percent of all profits until she earned back the three hundred thousand maravedis which was required to complete the ships—and less than the value of her husband’s palazzo, which she deeded to the shipbuilder in exchange for completing her two trade ships.
After that was achieved, she would give Gustavo forty-nine percent ownership of the vessels and sixty percent of the profits. This first sailing was the beginning of fulfilling that dream.
The Albergar’s Captain Montero was an attractive man in his forties with gray temples and a neat gray-streaked beard. He stood when she entered the bright, windowed cabin.
“Lady Hansen?” He gave her a shallow bow. “I am Captain Juan Montero. It is an honor to meet you.”
Avery walked toward him. “And I am pleased to meet you, Captain. Thank you for taking such good care of my ship.”
He smiled. “She is a worthy vessel.”
Avery dipped her chin in acknowledgement. “I hope you have good news for me.”
Montero nodded and indicated a chair. “Have a seat, my lady, and I will show you the numbers.”
Avery frowned. “Is the purser not available?”
Montero gave her an apologetic look. “I am afraid Mister Esteban has fallen victim to a common stomach malady and is unable to join us.”
Avery felt a jolt of recognition. “Esteban?”
“Gonzalo Esteban. He came from Madrid with very high recommendations.”
Avery nodded and forced herself to ignore the similarity between the purser’s name and that of the embezzling majordomo of her dead husband Paolo Mendoza’s estate—and the man who nearly destroyed her life.
Avery sat in the indicated chair. “Show me your numbers, then. I am very curious to see how we have done thus far.”
§ § §
Gonzalo waited nearly an hour into Avery’s meeting with Montero before putting his plan into action. The delicate balance between beginning too soon, while there was still much business left to discuss, and too late, which would leave him scant time to complete the arrangements, needed to be perfectly chosen.
The purser walked down the ship’s plank to the lady’s waiting valet. “I have a message from Lady Avery.”
The man straightened and looked at him. “Yes?”
Gonzalo held out a hand with several coins. “The lady wishes you to go to a shop and purchase some paper and ink for her.”
That suggestion was met with a deep frown. “I am under orders not to leave my post.”
“Your orders have changed, obviously.”
He shook his head. “Her husband gives me orders.”
This must be Hansen’s man, whom he thankfully never met in Barcelona, if indeed this valet had been there.
Gonzalo scoffed. “Shall I go back inside and inform the lady that her requests are not to be honored, but only her husband’s?”
“I—” The valet was caught. “But—”
“Fine, then.” Gonzalo moved to put the coins in his pocket. “I will tell the lady that you refused her request.”
He turned to climb back up the plank when the other man grabbed his arm. “Give me the coins. I will do as she bids.”
As soon as the valet turned his back and began to weave his way through the perpetually busy pier, Gonzalo scanned the crowd for his next accomplice.
“You, there!” he called out to a tall man with a blank expression who was sitting on a barrel.
He looked startled. “Me?”
“Yes.” Gonzalo approached him. “How would you like to earn some money?”
He squinted at Gonzalo. “How much money?”
The purser held out another fistful of coins, allowing them to gleam dully in the half-hidden sun.
The man’s eyes widened. “What I got t’ do?”
“Do you know the empty house on the other side of Tower Hill?” Gonzalo asked. “The one where the man was bundled off to gaol and then his wife ran off?”
“Aye.”
Gonzalo poured the clinking coins from one hand to the other. “A lady in a blue gown and a fur wrap is going to appear at the top of that ship’s plank.” He pointed at the Albergar. “She will be looking for her valet.”
“Aye…”
“You need to tell her that something happened and her man was called to a house across the way.” Gonzalo leaned in closer. “Then you say whatever you must in order to get her to follow you to that empty house.”
The man scowled. “Why for?”
“That is not your concern.”
He rubbed his scruffy chin. “I dunno.”
“You can keep the fur,” Gonzalo sweetened the pot. “I have no need for it.”
Hurry up you fool. Time is wasting.
“Maybe.” He tilted his head. “When do I get paid?”
Gonzalo refrained from sighing his relief. Barely. “As soon as you arrive at that house with the lady, all of this is yours.”
The man’s scowl deepened. “How much is that?”
“Half a crown.”
“Bloody hell!” He rose to his feet and looked down at Gonzalo. “And all I got t’ do is convince her t’ follow me to that house?”
“Yes.”
His eyes moved past Gonzalo. “Is that her?”
Bloody hell, indeed.
Gonzalo glanced over his shoulder, praying that she did not see him. Lady Avery was scanning the crowd and she looked extremely displeased. “Yes. Lady Avery.”
The man nodded. “I will take her t’ that house.”
Gonzalo turned his back to the ship. “And I will be waiting for you there.”
§ § §
Jakob will be furious.
Avery could not believe that Askel had disobeyed Jakob and left his position at the bottom of the plank. Even if he had to relieve himself, he could have done so over the edge of the pier like all the other men did.
“He better have a good excuse, or I fear for his employment, if not even his life,” she muttered into the damp breeze.
A tall non-descript man was moving toward the ship, and he was looking up at her. He called out, “Lady Avery?”
Do not say yes until you know what is going on. “Why do you ask me that?”
He looked apologetic. “I have a message for a Lady Avery who was on this ship. Do ye know where I can find her?”
Avery’s pulse surged. “What is the message?”
“Her man has been in a fight.”
Jakob? Is that where Askel went?
Avery tugged the fur wrap tighter and began her descent down the plank. “Where is he?”
The tall man shook his head, his scraggly brown hair waving in oily hanks. “Beggin’ yer pardon, but are ye the Lady Avery?”
She nodded but did not get too close to the unpleasantly aromatic man. “I am.”
“Aye, then. Follow me.” He spun on a heel and began to walk toward Tower Hill.
“Excuse me, but can you tell me what happened?” Avery demanded of his back.
He shook his head again, but did not look backward at her. “I was asked to bring ye to him.”
Avery lifted her skirts so she could walk faster. “Who attacked him?”
The man glanced back at that. “How do ye know who attacked who?”
“I know my man. My husband.” Avery raised her voice. “He is a knight of the Queen.”
The tall man stopped of a sudden and Avery nearly collided with him. “The Queen, ye say?”
Avery lifted her chin and glared at the man. “Yes. Both he and I are under her protection.”
“That is very pretty information.” He chuckled as he turned around to resume his path. “Very pretty indeed.”
Her sense of foreboding deepened. “Why?”
He did not answer her.
The man led her over the hill, past the spot where she used to meet Lizzy on her nighttime excursions. Avery looked around, hoping to find some evidence of a disturbance that would corroborate this man’s story, but the city of London appeared undisturbed.
The street in front of them now was lined with houses, most of which were in a state of disrepair. Avery stopped walking.
“Where are we going?” she shouted.
Her escort stopped when she shouted and turned to face her. “It’s just that house over there.”
His vague wave was unhelpful.
“No, I do not believe my husband is there. I will return to the Tower and send a guard to be certain.”
Avery spun around and took several long strides toward the massive fortress. The unkempt man grabbed her arm with a grip like steel and yanked her around to face him.
“Nah. Ye’ll come wit’ me.” He pulled her uncomfortably close to him and flashed a knife. “I do not want t’ kill ye.”
Avery clamped her teeth together and walked with the man. She believed an opportunity to escape would soon present itself if she just kept her wits about her.
Chapter Seven
The man opened the door to an obviously abandoned house and shoved her inside. The small and grimy windows did not allow much light from the graying day to enter, and a
t first she couldn’t make out the contents of the disordered room.
“What is this?” a second man asked. “Why the knife?”
“She changed her mind about coming wit’ me, so I had t’ convince her.” Avery’s escort let go of her arm. “And she told me somethin’ very interesting that ye left out.”
Avery heard the clink of coins and turned her head toward the sound. Her knees nearly buckled when she recognized the second man in the dim room.
“You!” she snarled. “What foolishness are you about now?”
Esteban Gonzales crossed the musty room. Ignoring her question, and with one hand behind his back, he addressed the tall man behind her.
“And what interesting thing is that?”
“She’s worth more than ye offered, I’d say. She’s under the protection of the Queen herself.”
Esteban sighed and shook his head. “I am afraid that does not change our original agreement.”
“And I’m afeared it does,” he replied. “The queen’ll pay far more’n half a crown to get this one back.”
Esteban looked at the man, pity etched in his expression. “That is not possible, I am afraid.”
“Well, I say it is.”
“Sadly for you, it is not.”
Esteban’s right hand appeared and the shot from his pistol nearly deafened Avery. She cried out, clapped her hands over her ringing ears, and crumpled to the filthy floor.
The tall man folded limply onto his face, the back of his head gaping gruesomely.
Avery gaped at Esteban. “You killed him!”
Esteban shrugged. “I had to. I could not have a witness.”
In spite of her growing fear, Avery straightened until she was sitting up on her knees and glared at her former majordomo. “Are you going to kill me as well?”
“Not yet.” He flashed a smug smile. “I need to regain what was mine.”
“Yours?” Avery began to tremble more with rage than fear. “What do you believe to be yours?”
Esteban leaned into her face. “The ships of course, you thieving bitch.”