Chapter Ten
Sir Francis’s revelation about Sir William was intriguing, if only because he had never mentioned his Dutch interests before, but part of her wondered whether her uncle was merely being mischievous.
‘Sir William cannot be the source of Virgo’s information,’ she explained to Nicholas, walking beside him on an hour-long stroll around the palace – or rather, an hour-long march. ‘He was sailing home with us when the King’s false report was finding its way into enemy hands.’
‘Then likely ’tis nothing to worry on. A reminder to be careful, is all.’
‘As the King said.’ She sighed. ‘Damn Lady Castlemaine. She more or less made a promise on my behalf I doubt I shall be able to keep. Success by the end of next week, she said.’
‘Can you do it?’ He smiled. ‘Can we?’
‘We shall have to make a discovery of some sort. I tell you one thing, mind: she was not pleased when the King ordered her from the room. Perhaps her position is not so secure as she likes others to believe. And we still have no idea who Virgo is. I shall have to speak with the other women again. I mean to start with Lady Cartwright.’
‘The mocking woman with the servant boy? I thought you said you’d offended her.’
‘Remember the first Indians we met in New England? Well, they had been offended too. I plan to ambush her, as they did to us in the forest.’
Nicholas laughed out loud. ‘Will you also throw a head on the ground at her feet?’
‘And she is Sir Geoffrey Allcot’s mistress. She might have some notion why his wife could have been murdered. But truth be told, none of these women are much like me. It is difficult to find a way into their lives at all.’
‘I wouldn’t worry about fitting in. I certainly don’t.’
‘I suppose not.’ She glanced at the extravagant sleeve of her pale-yellow dress. ‘I must admit, I sometimes wish I could be back in the simplicity of my attire on board ship.’
‘You didn’t say that at the time. You said you wanted to throw them in the sea, if I remember right.’
‘Yes, Nicholas.’ A passing courtier gave them a snide glance, and she lowered her voice. ‘But you should temper how you address me here. These people do not care we have spent months together, crossing the ocean and back, or realise what we have lived through. Any closeness on our part will not be understood, or will be deliberately misconstrued.’
He held up a hand. ‘Back to the gutter for me, then.’
‘I do not mean that. Take care not to be conspicuous, is all.’ She cleared her throat. ‘What will you do while I am trying to make progress? It must be dull for you here.’
‘I … promised Cerwen a turn in the park.’
‘Cerwen?’
‘The maid who washed my shirt that time, when Phibae brought it back. She has a spare hour this afternoon, and as she doesn’t leave the palace much, I thought …’
‘I see.’ She raised a playful eyebrow. ‘Then enjoy.’
Arranging the ambush was not hard. Once a day at least, Lady Cartwright met her cohort of admirers at her vantage point beneath the Italianate statue, the whiteness of the youth’s harsh pallor gleaming in the candlelight that lit up his handsome face. Just out of sight, Mercia spread herself across a comfortable bench, reading over and again the same lines of Wroth’s poetry, waiting for the women’s banal conversation to end. Hours seemed to pass, though it must have been minutes, until a baying of raucous laughter caused her to raise her head. Then Lady Cartwright’s morose boy Tacitus came round the corner, staring at the floor, his eyes glum.
‘Tacitus,’ she said, setting down her book.
He bowed and made to move on. ‘My lady.’
The boy’s wretched expression tugged at her heart. ‘Stay a moment. Why so sad?’
His whole frame sagged. ‘There is no reason, my lady.’
‘Come, sit beside me.’
He hesitated, but did as she asked, installing himself on the bench. The candlelight in the sconce above seemed to find reflection in his darting eyes.
‘Is it your mistress, Tacitus?’ she asked. ‘Do not worry. She cannot hear if we speak low.’
He glanced back the way he had come. ‘She is my mistress, my lady.’
‘That is not much of an answer. Do you like being in her service?’
He blinked. ‘Then yes, my lady.’
‘In truth?’ She leant in. ‘She does not like me. You have seen that for yourself.’
‘That is … not for me to say, my lady.’
‘Perhaps not. But I can. I think she is a vain wretch who would last not ten minutes outside of the comforts of this Court.’ She smiled. ‘Look at me, Tacitus. I am not trying to trick you. I am merely trying to say that there are people who do not think as she does.’
He stared at the floor, the smile she had hoped for nowhere to be seen. But then what had she expected? As far as he was concerned, she was a lady of the Court, and he was but a servant. A young, mocked servant at that. The gulf between them was greater even than that between herself and the King.
‘What is your name?’ she ventured.
‘Tacitus,’ came the response.
‘I mean your birth name. Not the one these women have given you.’
At that he looked up, and there was something new in his eyes.
‘Are you like Miss Whent, my lady?’
‘Miss Whent? Why say that?’
‘Because … I am sorry, my lady. I should not speak.’
‘Has your mistress ordered that you must remain silent? Tacitus, if you talk with me I will not say. Why speak so about Miss Whent?’
He swallowed, but this time he answered. ‘She is the only other person who has asked me my name. She is …’
‘She is what, Tacitus?’
His hands were gripping the edge of the bench; he looked as though he wanted to flee. ‘She is kind, my lady, nothing more. I mean no offence.’
‘There is no offence.’
‘Then you are kind too, my lady.’
‘I am … understanding, that is all. So what is your real name?’
He wrung his hands, but his voice caught a little firmer. ‘I do not speak it here.’
‘Oh? Why not?’
‘Because it is mine, my lady. While I am Lady Cartwright’s, I am Tacitus. If one day I am someone else, then perhaps I will have my old name once more.’
The notion appealed to her. ‘I understand. It is something that is yours alone. Then tell me how old you are.’
‘Sixteen, my lady. But … do not think I am complaining. I am well treated, have good clothes and food.’
He seemed in a state of perpetual anxiety. What can I do to help? she thought. There must be something. Then she glanced at her book and had an idea.
‘What of entertainments, Tacitus? Do you have friends?’
‘Yes, my lady. Some boys outside the palace. And – I know your maid, my lady, Phibae. She talks to me sometimes because … Well. Because.’
‘That is good. And with your friends, do you play games, or read together also?’
‘No, my lady.’ His eyes widened. ‘I cannot read.’
She would have been astounded if he could. ‘Would you like to be able to, Tacitus?’
He looked away. ‘Sometimes we try to teach each other things, like some letters, but … read, my lady? That is not for boys like me. Boys like your son read.’
‘You know I have a son?’
‘My mistress has talked of it with her friends.’
‘Of course.’ She smiled. ‘There was a time, Tacitus, when nobody in England was allowed to read the Bible save for priests. But now all who can read are able to follow its teachings for themselves. It is a noble thing to read, and a good one. To enjoy beautiful poetry, or to understand what others think. History from across the ages, written by men such as a long-dead Roman called Tacitus himself.’ She looked at him. ‘While I am here, I have promised to help Phibae improve her reading, just a little. If you wi
sh it, I could teach you as well.’
The look of wonder on his face caught at her soul. ‘You would do that?’
‘While I help one, I may as well help two.’
‘Not even Miss Whent would do that!’ He frowned. ‘Why so gentle?’
‘Because I like to help, where I can. Some would say because I like to interfere.’
‘My lady, I would like …’ But his sparse frame wilted once more. ‘I cannot go anywhere without my mistress’s permission.’
‘You are not with your mistress all the time. You are not with her now, for instance. You can come when you have your spare time.’
He thought a moment, then of a sudden looked right at her. ‘My lady, Phibae says you have sailed the seas. Have you seen my people, as Miss Whent has? She tells me things. Bad things.’
She shook her head. ‘I have not much seen them, no, not outside of London. But Tacitus, I believe we are all God’s creation, wherever we are from. It is strength of action and of mind that separates one man from another, or one woman. I think you, too, have a strong mind beneath. Can I ask Phibae to arrange for you to join us?’
He looked away, and then –
‘Yes.’ He nodded. ‘Yes, my lady. Please.’ But then his body turned rigid, and he leapt to his feet. ‘Mistress! I was just … I was …’
Mercia glanced round to see Lady Cartwright hands on hips before them, glaring with obvious pique. Much more slowly, she stood herself.
‘Lady Cartwright,’ she greeted. ‘I did not hear you come up.’
‘Mrs Blakewood, I might have known. Why are you keeping my boy from his duties?’
‘The blame is mine. Tacitus walked past while I was reading. I made him sit with me awhile.’
‘Why? Because you cannot afford your own black?’ She clicked her fingers. ‘Boy, go back to my chambers and wait for me there.’
Tacitus’s wide eyes darted from woman to woman in a sort of sympathetic fright. He scurried away, but not before Mercia raised the slightest eyebrow, giving him a complicit glance. Then she took a deep breath and turned back to Lady Cartwright.
‘It is pleasing to see you again, Lady Cartwright. Pray, may we talk a short while?’
Lady Cartwright pursed her lips. ‘I have been talking this past hour. And your conversation was not the most appealing when last we met.’
‘I was affected by the assault on my aunt that day. You will understand my mind was not itself.’
‘Oh, I think you were perfectly lucid. And the insult was taken nonetheless.’
‘It was not meant to be as such.’ She tried a warm smile. ‘Come, let us sit and talk.’
‘Then let me be plain, Mrs Blakewood.’ She folded her arms. ‘You may think you can inveigle your way into Court, but however much you feign it, you are not one of us. Once Sir William is bored, you will be on your way. Now kindly stand aside. I must prepare for tonight.’
‘Another party, Lady Cartwright?’
‘Another you shall not attend.’
Attempts at civility were getting her nowhere. ‘And yet you were not at the ball in the Banqueting House. Why ever not?’
Anger flashed over her face. ‘What concern is that of yours? I was elsewhere, that is all. But know this. I should take care that what happened to your aunt that evening does not happen to you.’
‘Assuredly, Lady Cartwright? What does that mean?’
‘Nothing at all. A mere observation that those who pry tend to come undone.’ She brushed Mercia aside with a rustle of her dress. ‘And now, Mrs Blakewood, goodnight.’
All the more pleased with her offer to teach Tacitus, Mercia made her way back to her rooms, pondering the force of Lady Cartwright’s words. Had they been a mere observation, as the bitter woman had implied, or had they been more of a threat?
Reaching her chambers, she heard the sounds of laughter from behind the closed door, a man’s voice and a woman’s. She pushed it open to find Nicholas jutting out his chin, sharing a joke with a maid she had never before seen, while Phibae sat in a corner altering a dress. He held out his hands and waved them around in imitation of some creature or other, making the woman laugh louder as she brushed a hand through her deep brown hair.
Hearing Mercia enter, she abruptly ceased her mirth. Nicholas turned his head and coughed, tucking a fold of his shirt into his breeches.
‘Hello,’ he said. ‘Er, this is Cerwen.’
The maid curtsied. ‘My lady. I was … helping Nick pass the time.’ She retreated to the corridor. ‘Goodnight, my lady.’
She left, pulling closed the door. Over Nicholas’s shoulder, Phibae lightly shook her head.
‘You told me to wait for you here,’ he explained, ‘and I thought I’d welcome a bit of company. Phibae is … that is, I didn’t want to disturb her from …’
‘Indeed, Nicholas,’ said Mercia. ‘But I would rather you be careful whom you invite into my chambers.’ She looked behind him. ‘Phibae, I happened to speak with Lady Cartwright’s boy, Tacitus, just now. I had a thought I should like to discuss with you later.’
Phibae nodded, not breaking from her work. ‘He is a good boy, that one.’
‘Nicholas, would you come with me a moment?’
She walked into the bedroom. Nicholas followed her in, shutting the door.
‘Nicholas,’ she began, ‘I know you want to make friends, but you must heed what I said before. I should have thought what we have experienced these past months would have taught you the value of caution.’
His eyes widened. ‘We were talking, is all. Phibae was there the whole time. I’m not going to—’ He shook his head. ‘No matter.’
‘Not going to what?’
He sighed. ‘Suspect everyone I ever come across. ’Tis not right.’
‘And you think I do, is that it?’
‘No, Mercia, but …’ He glanced briefly away. ‘I’ve served as your manservant for months. Aside from … that once … I’ve acted faithfully. I’ve stood by you, risked my own life … God’s truth, I was nearly killed in America! I sat idly by as Nathan was left behind—’
She folded her arms. ‘Left behind?’
‘All I mean is I’ve done a lot for you, and I’ve been glad to do it. But I don’t think it wrong to expect I might be allowed my own life into the bargain. Now I’ve taken a woman for a walk in the park, and I’ve talked to her here in your rooms. If you’d rather I didn’t bring her here, then I won’t. But I’d think I’d be allowed a little freedom.’
‘What has brought this on?’ She stared at him. ‘You know I am grateful for everything you have done. And it was not me who forced you to come to the palace. You think I want to be here? I want to be home, with Daniel, as soon as I can. All I said was, we need to be discreet.’ She lowered her voice. ‘Which presumably includes not arguing while Phibae is near.’
He took a deep breath. ‘You’re right. And I’m sorry. But I am … frustrated, if truth be told. I was looking forward to seeing my daughter again, my family and my mates. Instead I’m stuck here with all these … precious coxcombs, and if a pretty woman wants to spend some time with me, what harm is that?’
‘None, Nicholas. I just meant you should—’
‘You may have given up on all that, but I haven’t.’ He looked to the ceiling, tugging at his already ruffled hair. ‘Damn it, Mercia, I’m sorry, again.’ He turned his sad eyes to her. ‘I’m sorry, Mercia.’
She nodded, but the backs of her eyes were burning. He was right, she knew, but what he had said still hurt.
‘Perhaps you should go,’ she said. ‘We can speak another time about what we do next.’
‘I said I was sorry.’ He took a step forwards. ‘I mean it.’
‘And I know you speak the truth.’ Annoyed with herself, she scratched away her nascent tears, but then the words began to flow in their place. ‘Why cannot everything turn out right? Why do I have to struggle like this, my whole life? My brother, my mother … by the Lord, I have not seen my mother since
we returned! All I want is a normal life, Nicholas, like other women have. All I want is to be with Daniel and with …’ She shook her head in angst. ‘But that is too late. After what happened in America … it hurt, Nicholas. It hurt, and it goes on hurting.’ She jabbed at her chest. ‘Here, in my heart. In my mind. I see them over and over, all the deaths! And I have nobody to turn to but myself.’
‘Yes, you do.’ He came round to her, and he placed his hands lightly on her shoulders. ‘You have me, in spite of what I said. But you cannot rely on me forever, not like that.’ He smiled. ‘I’m from the alleys of London, Mercia, and you’re a fine lady of the gentry. We’re a very odd twosome. May I?’ He reached into his pockets and withdrew a clean handkerchief, wiping the moisture from her eyelids. ‘But you need someone else to share some of this with, as I need someone too. I’ve lain awake myself at night because of what we’ve seen. You aren’t alone in how you feel, but …’
‘Yes?’ she said.
‘You are strong, Mercia. The bravest woman I’ve known. But there’s no shame in admitting that it’s hard to live alone.’
‘Strong.’ She bit her lip. ‘’Tis hard for you to understand, perhaps, but I have to fight, every single day, to be taken as seriously as my brother would have been taken in my place. When I tell those who doubt me of the hardships I have endured, of the things I have done, they oft refuse to believe them, solely because of who I am. But I mean to go on ignoring those naysayers until the day I join my brother in heaven.’ She eased herself from his touch, and she forced a smile. ‘I am well, Nicholas, truly. Now, ’tis not too late. Why not join your friends in some tavern or other? Spend tomorrow with your daughter, or with Cerwen, if you like, if she can be spared the time. Come back the day after. You need the rest.’
‘That’s … are you sure you don’t mind?’
‘Go. I shall want my bed soon.’ She shooed him away. ‘I mean it. Have a day apart.’
‘A whole day?’ He grinned. ‘Thank you. That means a lot.’
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