The Tudor Conspiracy

by C. W. Gortner

  He went quiet, observing me with a studied impartiality. It occurred to me that Simon Renard was testing my suitability for the task he’d already prepared for me.

  “So we might say that for you, faith rests in the purse,” he said at length.

  “We might, though I wouldn’t want to be quoted on it.”

  “Indeed. How is this, to start?” He inked a quill, wrote on a scrap of paper, and pushed it to me.

  I looked at the sum, then allowed a few seconds to pass before I said, “Generous, to start. Though it depends on what it’s for. I’m not accustomed to agreeing to a price before I know what I’m being paid for.”

  “Naturally.” He took another sip. “As you may have surmised from those idiots in my antechamber, I am indeed in need of another clerk. Actually, several more, but as you made clear to me and Her Majesty yesterday in her apartments, an office position is not your preference. Nor, you will be satisfied to know, is it the job Her Majesty has chosen for you.”

  Under my jerkin, my stomach knotted. “Chosen for me? Could Your Excellency be more specific?”

  “I can, though what I am about to say must be kept in the strictest confidence.” He paused; when I assented, he went on. “Her Majesty and I believe there is a conspiracy afoot against her. She’s made no secret of the fact that she deplores the heresy that has overtaken this realm, or of her determination to remedy it. However, not everyone on the council shares her aspirations. Those against her are in the minority, naturally, but they exist nonetheless. I’ve had an eye on this subversive element for some time now, but until recently Her Majesty has refused to accept that her own subjects may seek to do her harm.”

  I noted he made no mention of the emperor or Prince Philip, though there could be no doubt he was acting as much on their behalf as the queen’s. Indeed, this so-called subversive element could be a direct result of the queen’s consideration of a foreign Catholic prince as her spouse, only months into her own reign.

  “But you believe her subjects do, in fact, seek her harm?” I said carefully.

  “I know it.” He set his hand on the desk. “The queen has enemies not only in the land but here, in this very court! They seek to destroy her peace of mind and overthrow her rule, if they can manage it. They would plunge England into chaos, to their own advantage.”

  “I see. May I ask who these enemies are, precisely?”

  “Do you propose I give you names?” he retorted. “If I had them, we’d hardly have need of you, now would we?”

  “Nevertheless, you mentioned you’ve had an eye on this subversive element for some time. Surely you must have some idea of who they are?”

  He went quiet, regarding me as if he were contemplating throwing me out. Then he said tersely, “I have only suspicions, unfortunately.” He paused again, drawing out the moment. I didn’t reveal my apprehension, waiting patiently as if I had this whole day. Abruptly he came to his feet, moving to the window. Standing with his back to me, he said, “If you succeed in finding these traitors, Her Majesty will be generous. An official post at court is not out of the question; perhaps a title and grant of lands, if you prefer. But in return, the evidence must be unassailable. She will not be satisfied with less.”

  “It sounds as if my loyalty is in question,” I said.

  He turned around to me. Though nothing outward in his demeanor had changed, his tone now held unmistakable menace. “The queen has expressed confidence in you. Naturally, I must bow to her wisdom. Nevertheless, a man for hire, with no stated religious affiliation, who once worked for Cecil and is available to the highest bidder—well, surely you can appreciate my concern.”

  “I do.” I inclined my head. “I thank you for your time. I’d not wish to be an impediment. I can seek my livelihood elsewhere and spare you this … concern.”

  He let me stand. I moved to the door and actually set my hand on the latch before he remarked, “Her Majesty wants you, and you alone, for this task. In fact, she commands it.”

  I swallowed and returned to my chair. My mind raced. It seemed I hadn’t kept Mary’s trust after all. I had stepped into the viper’s nest. This time, she would have me prove myself in a job of her choosing, and everything told me I wasn’t going to like it.

  Renard let the moment settle. Then he said, “I would not hire you were it within my purview. You are not the sort of man to entrust with a matter of this gravity, and I protested as much to Her Majesty. Still, she gave me her order, and I must obey.” He paused; his next words hit me like a bludgeon to the stomach. “The suspects she wishes you to investigate,” he said, “are Edward Courtenay, Earl of Devon, and the Lady Elizabeth.”

  I tasted bile. Though I’d expected this, to hear it said aloud was terrible, and it confirmed what Cecil had told me about Renard having Mary’s ear.

  “If you know who your suspects are,” I said, my entire body tightening in the chair, as if braced for an assault, “why not simply arrest and question them?”

  He made an impatient sound. “Her Majesty is a trusting woman. She does not want to think the worst of anyone, much less her own sister and her cousin. She’ll not act before she has the proper evidence.”

  “And you expect me to…?”

  “Hardly. You’d never get any closer to Lady Elizabeth, for example, than you did last night with that dog. She hides her true self like no other; she is as cunning as she is wary. I daresay nothing short of the rack would break her.” He smiled—actually smiled. “And we can hardly throw her on the rack, now can we? Nor do we dare arrest her yet; that would only alert her supporters, who would change whatever they plan to evade detection.”

  “Supporters?” I echoed. “You believe she has supporters?”

  “Traitors invariably do. And while Lady Elizabeth and the Earl of Devon cannot be questioned directly, if they conspire to treason, as I believe they do, it stands to reason there must be some evidence of their conspiracy. We need any letters that may have gone between them and their accomplices, as well as dates and places of their meetings. This is what I require of you. And I require it before their conspiracy comes to pass.” He paused, with emphasis. “The queen may be trusting, but I, Master Beecham, am not. A man in my position cannot afford to be.”

  I had to force myself to lean back in my chair, my hand at my beard. Elizabeth had once told me that Mary was incapable of trust, having inherited the worst of their father; now I understood what she meant. It wasn’t that Mary could not trust; it was that she was easily persuaded to doubt—a doubt Renard now preyed on to his own ends.

  Mary still had a conscience, though; she had insisted on hiring me because she was unwilling to condemn her sister on Renard’s word alone. That had made him desperate. His secret plans for the queen’s marriage could not stay secret for much longer; time was running out. The uproar against Mary’s decision to wed the Spanish prince could be worse than he anticipated; should others at court vocalize their opposition, it would be difficult to single out Elizabeth as the cause. To succeed in destroying the princess, Renard needed proof of treason before any public announcement of the queen’s betrothal was made.

  That meant I could win. I could beat the ambassador at his own gambit.

  “What if nothing can be found?” I asked. “Again, excuse me for stating the obvious, but with two such persons, well, surely you can appreciate my concerns. I value my reputation, my lord, such as it is, and the Lady Elizabeth is the queen’s heir.”

  His face turned cold. “I’d not be so quick to consider her such. There is serious question as to her suitability. Some believe she is not the king’s daughter at all. The queen herself has her doubts. She once told me she sees nothing of her father in Elizabeth and too much of her whore of a mother.”

  My fist clenched at my side. Had I not found myself in this position, I’d have knocked his teeth out for uttering such baseless filth.

  “It is not in my purview to speculate on such matters,” I managed to say. “But if evidence cannot be fou
nd against the Lady Elizabeth, I’ve no desire to be singled out as the man who sought to incriminate her.”

  “You won’t be,” said Renard. “As I mentioned, this task is strictly confidential. Only the queen and I know of it. You can rest assured that Her Majesty would not have asked you to undertake it if she doubted the outcome. Do you understand?”

  I did. I understood all too well. I understood I had no guarantee he wouldn’t order me killed the moment I delivered what he requested. I also understood that while he might hide behind the queen’s authority, this was his deed. He had orchestrated an invasion by a foreign power through the betrothal with Prince Philip and would not cease until he had Elizabeth on the block. He was ruthless and lethal.

  To save the princess, he must be defeated.

  “I understand perfectly, my lord,” I said.

  He remained motionless, his glacial stare fixed on me. Then his expression shifted with mercurial swiftness, that false air of camaraderie resurfacing in the blink of an eye.

  “I’m pleased to hear it, as will be Her Majesty. I’m sure I needn’t add that you must refrain from making yourself too visible about court, as you did last night. And if you provide me with a list of expenditures, I’ll do my best to see them fulfilled. Though I must warn you, my resources are quite limited. However, I can spare an extra man if you…?”

  Either he toyed with me or he’d forgotten who he was dealing with. Did he actually think I’d ask him to set a spy on me?

  I stifled the urge to smile. “I prefer to work on my own, given the delicate nature of this assignment. However, a third of my wage up front would be appreciated. Oh, and a new dagger, if at all possible. I seem to have misplaced mine.”

  He wrote on a paper, then rang a small silver bell on his desk. The rotund clerk waddled in, wiping his hands on his breeches, spilling crumbs.

  “Take care of this,” Renard said, thrusting the paper at him, “before you resume your dinner.” The clerk scowled and trudged out. Renard turned to me with an exasperated look. “Decent help is so difficult to find these days. I can’t tell you how refreshing it is to finally be working with a professional. I’ll expect a report from you in, say, three days? I trust that’s sufficient time to compile…?”

  “I’ll do my best,” I said. I stood and shook his hand, resisting the revulsion I felt as I enclosed his dry palm briefly in mine.

  Let the hunt begin.

  Chapter Eight

  I inhaled deep of the winter air, cleansing my mind and lungs as I strode across the base court toward the stable block, my new Spanish poniard of flexible Toledo steel secured in my boot, my sword at my side and my purse weighting my pocket.

  The day was crisp; distant clouds clustered on the horizon, white as the snow on the ground. Urgency quickened my step. I prayed Elizabeth would keep our appointment; she had to be apprised that Renard was setting a trap for her. For the moment, I was a step ahead. I’d just been hired by the man I must thwart, but I still had Courtenay’s henchman to worry about. She could tell the earl to get his man to back off, but until then I was exposed, and I kept looking over my shoulder, listening for the telltale crunch of feet on snow that would alert me I was being followed.

  I covered my head with my hood as I neared the stables, avoiding several young grooms idling under an overhang by the courtyard, where they tossed dice on a mounting block and shared an illicit wineskin. Evidently there wasn’t much call for horses today. I scanned them from under my hood, but I didn’t see Peregrine among them. With any luck, he’d lured his friend Toby elsewhere to question him.

  Within white-and-green-painted buildings that housed the court’s horses and dogs, I was greeted by a startled black cat, which hissed and slunk away. The comforting smell of hide, manure, and hay brought back a sudden, vivid reminder of my boyhood, when I’d been charged with caring for the animals on the Dudley estate.

  I almost didn’t hear her approach. One moment I was breathing in the close, still air; the next I felt a shift and whirled about, my poniard drawn.

  “Careful,” she said, and as I lowered my weapon, my heart beating fast, I found myself staring into Elizabeth’s leonine eyes, the black velvet of her hood framing her face. Her voice was icy. “I thought I told you that if I needed you, I would send word to Hatfield.”

  I replied cautiously, “Yes, you did. But I came anyway, to help you.”

  “Did you?” Her brow arched. “I had to bribe the grooms; luckily, it doesn’t take much to entice them. You didn’t think about that, did you, when you slipped me your note? That anyone could have seen us meeting here?”

  I cursed under my breath. I hadn’t, in truth. I had been so intent on speaking to her, I hadn’t considered the possible consequences.

  “We’ve still a little time,” she went on. “I made up an excuse that I needed fresh air, a walk around the grounds and to check on my horse. I’ve sent Blanche Parry back for my gloves and muff, with that pack of witches my sister surrounded me with, but they’ll return soon enough, so”—she fixed her gaze on me—“tell me why you are here.”

  I had a sudden moment of doubt. What was I doing? She’d been bred for this world; she’d long since learned to navigate its treacherous shoals. I hadn’t. Still, I had no choice but to go on. As I recalled what Renard had told me and what he’d hired me to do, I said bluntly, “I’ve just had an appointment with Ambassador Renard. He’s charged me to find evidence that you and the earl conspire against the queen.” I lowered my voice, the restless horses in the stalls behind us nickering. “He seeks to arrest Your Grace for treason!”

  The sparse color in her cheeks faded. When she spoke, her voice was tremulous. “So, it has finally happened. Mary has given that vile man leave to move against me.”

  “Yes, but she has doubts. Renard preys on her suspicions. He seeks your downfall to his own ends, and—”

  She let out a mirthless laugh. “My sister hardly needs his persuasion to think the worst of me.”

  I searched her face. “Does she have reason to? I was in the passageway last night; I overheard everything. And Courtenay was very concerned that I might go to Renard or the queen with it.” I took a step closer to her. “What are you involved in? What did you give Courtenay last night, and why did he mention Robert Dudley?”

  “Not that I need to answer you,” she said with a hint of asperity, “but I gave him a book. It’s hardly evidence of anything.” She paused, her voice turning grave. “I warn you now: You, too, could be in grave danger if you persist in this pursuit. I’ll not have you risk yourself for my sake, not this time. Regardless of your loyalty, this is not your fight.”

  “Let me decide that on my own,” I said. As she drew in a sharp gasp, I did something I had never done before: I took her hand. Her bare fingers were cold, and as she felt my touch, her expression faltered. I knew how difficult this was for her. She was daring, secure in her right to act as she saw fit. Few ever glimpsed the vulnerability she hid within.

  “Who was that book for?” I asked softly, though I already knew.

  She withdrew her hands. “For Robert.” She lifted her chin, as if to preempt my outburst, and I recalled that volatile passion between her and Dudley, as inexplicable to me as it was terrifying. Their desire defied everything I thought I knew about Elizabeth, like a reckless tide that swept caution aside, though not, God willing, her instinct for self-preservation.

  I appealed to this quality in her now. “Have you forgotten how Robert and his father did everything possible to force you, and your sister, into an impasse? They tried to set Jane Grey and Guilford Dudley on the throne. Had they succeeded, your sister would be dead or imprisoned; you’d have been obliged to do as they saw fit. Robert does not deserve your care for him. Were the situation reversed, I doubt he’d do the same for you.”

  Her eyes sparked. “You seem to forget that I know what Robert really desired.”

  “No, I remember all too well. He wanted to marry you and share your crown.” We
locked eyes. “But now, he and his brothers are condemned. Should Renard discover you’ve been communicating with Dudley, a traitor, he will use it against you.”

  Sudden pallor tightened her features. “It’s more than a book,” she said. “I put a letter inside it. Courtenay has a way to smuggle it into the Tower. He told me it was safe.”

  I felt as if my insides had turned to liquid. “A letter?”

  “Yes,” she said. “If my sister weds Philip of Spain, she will destroy everything—our faith, our future, our very lives. Robert must be forewarned. The betrothal could be his death warrant; Philip will demand it of her. He will demand that she execute every traitor in the Tower before he sets foot on these shores.”

  I found it difficult to draw a full breath. It was more than Cecil had feared, more than Renard could have hoped for: a letter from Elizabeth herself, to none other than Robert Dudley, a convicted traitor. I did not want to ask the question that burned on my lips; I did not want to confront some terrible truth about this woman I served. Yet I had to be sure. I had to know how far Elizabeth was willing to go before I committed myself.

  “Do you know what Dudley and Courtenay plan?” I asked. “Tell me now, or so help me, I’ll leave court this very hour. I cannot serve you if you will not place your trust in me.”

  I saw her teeth cut at her lower lip, hesitating. I turned on my heel and set off for the stable entranceway. I meant it. I would not be manipulated, not even by her.

  “Brendan, wait.” The unexpected tremor in her voice stopped me. I glanced over my shoulder. “I don’t know anything else,” she said. “I swear it to you.”

  I heard Cecil in my mind, We can guide her to her destiny—you and I. But first, we must keep her alive, and I had a vivid recollection of the queen in her fabric-strewn chamber, the complicit laughter of her women, that portrait half-covered by a sheet in the corner. In that moment, I faced a terrible choice. I could turn away now and disappear the way I had come. I could return to the life I’d left behind. I felt a sudden longing for that uncomplicated existence, where Kate and I could wed and have children; where I needn’t watch for shadows at every corner; where there were no covert plans or lies within lies.